Brightflame Accension (Book 1)

by D. B. Penner

  “Will, supper!” Art shouted from behind the dormitory door. Will woke, startled and disturbed. Drenched in sweat, he pressed his hands to his eyes as if that would erase the persistent image of his father from his mind. After a moment, Will dressed and sheathed a hunting knife in his belt. Relaying his dream to Art, they walked to the Feasting Hall. Art again assured Will that it was but a dream and meant nothing, but this time, Will remained unsure.

  Halfway through the meal, Will realized that he needed to finish his assigned essays, the revelation hitting him like a charging Warrior. After dinner, he hurried back to the Pit and started the dull task of writing the papers assigned that week. The sun had long since fallen below the horizon by the time Will finished. He yawned and threw his parchments and quill into his pack. That night, for the first time in what seemed like days, Will rested well, despite his eventful weekend.

  A new week arrived, and the sleeping recruits awoke to the growling of their Faction Leader. They were all slow to dress and finally, after many yawns and an attempt by Gregor to fall back asleep, they made it into the Feasting Hall. The five boys sat in a row, ravenously devouring their breakfast. Finishing their eggs and ham, Will and the others wearily dragged themselves up the stairs to the Pit. Gearing up and readying themselves for class, the boys talked amongst themselves about the club notices.

  “What will the Blademaster have us fight?” Ben asked as they walked through the common room, referring to the notice that had been tacked to the Pit door three days prior.

  “I haven’t an idea, but after today, we’ll be battle-proven cadets,” Gregor acknowledged. “No more of this Academy training, no more of this Imperial Army rot. When I leave this place, I’m going to do my duty to the Empire and retire as soon as I am able. Then, I will be free to pursue a career in monster hunting, and life will be all about slaying beasts and bathing in gold.” Spontaneously, he burst into a dance in which he hopped from one foot to the other pretending to collect coins. The others soon joined him, hooting with laughter.

  Losing his balance, Pat fell to the ground and remained there, bawling tears of mirth and clutching his stomach with delight. Four girls carrying books close to their chests walked past the hysterical boys with looks of disgust firmly planted on their faces.

  Leaving the others laughing uncontrollably, Will and Art walked across the dew-dampened lawn to Beast Mastery. The weather was nice; the sun shone warmly down on them with only the slightest nip of cold in the air. Will saw Worth dressed in a leather vest, surrounded by a knot of recruits. The professor waved them over and, with a smile, said, “I had almost forgotten your prizes. I picked these out for the both of you because you performed exceedingly well in that first test. Methinks you will enjoy this.” Worth handed both Will and Art an enormous lump of chocolate, each piece big enough to fill Will’s palm.

  Thanking the professor, they bit into their chocolate. It was flavorful and sweet. Will ate more and more until he reached the core. Out burst a creamy mousse, tasting of a heavier cocoa. Before he realized it, Will had finished the entire lump.

  Then, he and Art felt very sick, for they had both eaten their entire chocolaty prize. Worth chuckled, “I figured that you would do that. Here drink this; it should make you feel better.” They drank the greenish liquid, and Art claimed that he did indeed feel better. Will, however, discerned no change.

  His stomach roiled queasily as class started, but sickness was replaced by excitement and curiosity when Worth announced their new project. “Now that you all know a little bit about frevmats, we will be experimenting with our knowledge. Each of you will pick a figurine from this bag. The figure you choose will depict the creature that will be your ‘frevmat’ for the next few weeks. The creatures will begin as hatchlings and newborns, and your goal is to care for them. If you nurture them correctly, they will grow. I will inspect your progress over the next few weeks to see how each pair is doing. Now, take your pick,” he said holding out a large sack.

  Four recruits quickly stepped up, each drawing from the large bag a small figure. They held statuettes of a viper, a monkey, a boar, and a green dragon. Worth told them to stand aside, and a wave of recruits crashed forward. Profanities issued from the mouths of the fighting youths as they jockeyed for position. Eventually, the crowd began to disperse, each recruit studying the likeness of his pretend frevmat.

  Calmly, Will had reached into the bag and withdrew the perfect likeness of a sleeping snow leopard cub. Inspecting the figurine, Will thought the animal adorable. He smiled, pleased with his choice. His mother had a white leopard, too. Will had always thought Lumina was merely a loyal pet, but he began to wonder now if she was actually his mother’s frevmat. And if so, why had his parents not told him about that either? They knew that Will was particularly fond of wild beasts and that the idea of taming one for his very own would be a topic of great interest. They have kept me ignorant of a beautiful world, my parents. Some day, I hope that I see all of it, Will thought.

  “Everyone got their pick? Follow me, and let’s go meet the little beasties.” Worth led the excited recruits around the stable and towards several pens near the woods. The young animals and creatures rose to jump playfully against their pen walls. Entering the enclosures, students laughed and giggled as the baby beasts leaned up against their legs. Will saw the pen containing his small leopard cub. A determined-looking tiger cub paced to and fro in the pen with it. Will smiled as the leopard attempted to climb the pen walls and fell back into the grass, rolling onto its back pawing at the air. With a rough little tongue, the leopard lapped at Will’s face when he picked it up, vibrating with a rumbling purr. Will put the cub at his feet and let it pounce on his shoes.

  “How precious, Will. Is that your frevmat?” a sweet voice sounded behind him. Vivyan was holding the tiger cub in her arms.

  “Aye, and he is rather endearing, isn’t he? Feisty little devil,” Will said with a smile. Vivyan let her tiger down, and immediately, the leopard pounced on it.

  Will went to stop the little brawl, but Vivyan held him back. With seconds, the tiger had flipped the leopard onto its back and held him down with its large, striped paws. The tiny tiger snorted contemptuously, releasing Will’s frevmat. The frightened leopard hurried back to Will and nuzzled his legs.

  Smiling at her frevmat, Vivyan walked away, the tiger trailing behind her. Picking up his frevmat, Will scrunched up his nose and touched it to the leopard’s. The frevmat looked at Will with pale blue eyes, then with a wide yawn, buried its head in his arms and fell asleep. Will stroked the sleeping cub as he looked for Art.

  “You too?” Art exclaimed. “Everyone gets a vicious monster for a frevmat, and I picked a bleating cow.” Art shook his head, walking up to Will with a knobby-kneed calf in his wake. Will’s leopard woke and suddenly jumped down from his arms. First, the calf looked suspiciously at the leopard circling him. Then, it bucked, kicking its back legs, and pranced toward the leopard.

  “By their manner of play, one would assume them mortal enemies, but I’m of the opinion that they like each other. It is curious,” Will commented as the two frevmats wrestled in the grass. Art nodded, smiling as his calf butted Will’s leopard with its nubby horns. Despite his earlier complaints about his choice in frevmat, Art was obviously enjoying the animal’s awkward charm, laughing kindly every time it lost its balance. With each stumble, the calf humorously locked its knees and leapt into the air, a behavior that, to Will, did not seem to help its balance issues at all, and to Art, seemed the most hilarious mode of travel ever.

  “Well, children? Are you pleased with your frevmats? I will give you a few more minutes to get to know one another before we head off,” Worth said to the class. His own frevmat, Relic, was watching the interactions between man and beast with an expression of great delight in her wolf eyes.

  Will and Art sat down and continued to watch their frevmats play for a time. They also laughed at other kids’ frevmats. One Soardale, a pale girl with frizzled reddis
h blond hair, poked her hideous baby troll with her toe. Another recruit tossed a stick at a strange creature seeming to consist entirely of fluffy purple fur, hitting it squarely in what Will supposed to be its head.

  “Unfortunately, time has run its course. Take good care of our friends and remember, they may seem too small and delicate to send to war now, but with the proper care and training, most everybody’s frevmat will be an asset on the battlefield,” Worth said, although he eyed the purple fuzz creature with certain skepticism.

  Pocketing the statuette of the snow leopard and admiring the real thing, Will walked up to the castle with Art and their animal companions in tow.

  All of a sudden, he remembered something about frevmats. Will stopped, closing his eyes. Focusing hard on extending his thoughts beyond his own head, Will touched the leopard’s consciousness. The bond held and flowed seamlessly between the two beings’ thoughts, more easily than with any other being Will had contacted before. Will felt the animal shudder at the contact. He himself felt a strange sensation in his chest, strange, but wholly comforting. What is your name? He asked tentatively. The leopard looked up at him and cocked his head.

  Suddenly, Will felt a great pain in his head. The contact between him and the cub spiked painfully into every memory, emotion, thought he had ever had. Will gasped and his eyes jolted open. Then, his eyes were not his, and Will saw, through the eyes of the leopard, a world of icy blues and vivid yellows. He saw his own face from the point of view of the small leopard. Then, just as suddenly as the pain had come, it ceased. Looking at the frevmat with greater respect, Will smiled, aware of the foreign thoughts in his mind.

  I have yet to own one, William, the leopard answered.

  But how do you know my name? And where did you learn to talk? Will asked surprised, but, at the same time, with an odd feeling as if he knew the answer already.

  I know all that you know, it answered curtly. Only, I see things in a different light.

  Ignoring the profoundness of this last statement, Will spoke again through their mental link, Then, I shall give you a name. Do you care for Crag?

  That is not my name.

  How about Turpon?

  No.

  Snowball?

  No!

  Will chuckled at the furious denial. The cub stared at Will with a mixture of distaste and a desire to hurt the boy in its ice-blue eyes.

  Then, I dub thee Vale, Will proclaimed, hoping that the title would stick; he was running short on ideas for a noble name.

  Yes, I do like that, Vale purred. The leopard cub then jumped in front of Will, bowing low at Will’s boots. I, Vale, vow to protect and serve beside William Brightflame, Stormhand’s son, to the hour of my death, Vale said with such vigor Will was compelled to believe him.

  Big promises from one so small, Will chuckled. Vale, I accept your offer of companionship. Know that I will do the same for you should the occasion arise, Will responded. Vale seemed content with his pledge and shook his spotted head.

  “Will, are you well?” Art asked. They were on the bridge, the water lapping noisily beneath their feet.

  “I am well,” he said, withdrawing from but not severing the mental link between himself and Vale.

  Heritage

  Nailfram scowled unpleasantly as he surveyed the beasts scampering around his pupils’ legs. “I see Bloomington has you toting around filthy little animals. Make sure that they do not make a mess of my floor, and they will be allowed to stay. If they do, you, not I, will be cleaning it up. Now, pass your homework forward. I must say, I hope we did a better job than last time; many of your essays were unbearably poor. The Hawthorn Root antidote,” Nailfram continued, “cure to a variety of poisons. Today, we shall be making and maybe even testing it,” Nailfram grinned dangerously. “Instructions are on the board; begin.”

  As Will worked diligently on his potion, Vale fell asleep beneath the desk. Finally, when Will was done, the potion had taken on a hazy, green tinge, smelling of sliced apples.

  “Time to test your concoctions,” Nailfram said. “First, drink this poison.”

  “Excuse me, sir?” Will asked.

  “Drink it, unless have no faith in your antidote, in which case, do not drink,” Nailfram said coolly. “I do not wish to clean up the mess afterwards should your antidote fail.”

  “I prefer to gamble when the stakes are less high,” Will replied in the same cool tone. Vale woke and growled softly.

  “What insubordination is this, Brightflame? Drink the poison, or I’ll string you up and whip you myself,” Nailfram threatened loudly. Some Scalefire students snickered.

  Will glared at Nailfram and snatched the poison from his hand. Hearing Vivyan’s gasp of shock, Will drained the vial in one gulp. Waiting, Will felt nothing, neither pain, nor bad taste, nor sickness. A long time passed. “Am I not supposed to be dying yet?” Will asked. The poison still had not affected him.

  Nailfram was speechless, but the alchemist regained composure again. Nailfram assumed a quizzical look and said warily, “That is very… odd. Take this.” He handed Will another vial. Will downed the second poison, which smelt and tasted like tar, to no effect. Nailfram forced on him three more poisons before allowing Will to drink an antidote. None of the poisons had any effect on Will; it seemed that he was immune to their deadly effects.

  Sifting through your memories, I can glean that you remain unaffected by not only poisons, but potions as well. Teristum Anothíl, to name one. You never felt rested or reenergized like Vivyan did after taking a swig. The trait is interesting, neither beneficial nor detrimental. One would assume it’s your Furialist heritage at work again, Vale said.

  Your knowledge is drawn only from my memories, yet you know more than I, Will smiled.

  When Nailfram dismissed the recruits, Vivyan approached Will as he packed his things. “Impressive,” she whispered in Will’s ear. “You’re a man with unique talents, Will. I like that.” Her words were tantalizing, dripping with desire. Mesmerized, Will felt as if he had melted. He tried to utter some response, but no sound came from of his mouth. Vivyan put a finger to his lips to silence him.

  Entranced, Will stood, staring after her curvy figure as Vivyan walked away. Vale swiped Will’s leg with his claws. Ouch! That hurts, Vale, Will shouted through the mental link, shocked out of his reverie.

  Don’t be so enamored by a person that they have opportunity to deceive you, Vale cautioned. People will take advantage of such desire.

  Speak not such nonsense. Vivyan is not capable of such villainy. Besides, I feel that I have her favor, Will responded. Vale twitched his tail impatiently but followed Will as he left the room. But did you see? The way she touched me… A maiden fair, methinks she favors me, Will laughed, leaping joyously into the air.

  Stop that; you would make jesters of us both. It’s embarrassing.

  Baruktaråg greeted them at the entrance to his classroom. Bending down, the dwarf rubbed Vale, who purred with delight.

  “Mine people cannot have frevmats,” the dwarf grumbled sadly. “Dwarves of the Ranullah Clan have a way with the beast; indeed, they channel beast-like behavior themselves. With the proper training, one of their Clan can transform into a great bear and alter certain forces of nature. But that’s as close as mine people get to experiencing a frevmat bond,” Baruktaråg said, admiring Vale’s luscious, white fur.

  Again, they reviewed Elven history, and Baruktaråg quizzed them on the subject. At the end of the class, Vale yawned widely, his tongue stretching. The dwarf, I like him, Vale commented.

  You just like him because he rubbed your belly. But, Will agreed; Baruktaråg was a fine teacher, Will’s favorite behind Modwyn. Sitting down to eat, Will heaped piles of food onto his plate.

  Vale nudged Will’s knee with his tiny face. What do you want? Vale flashed an image of a juicy hunk of meat across their link. Will understood what it meant without questioning the request. He looked around and found a tender-looking sheep flank. Then, cutting it in
to small pieces, Will began to feed the small leopard cub. Pleased, Vale ate all the bloody meat and growled for more. More? Will asked incredulously. The flank that Will had fed Vale was quite large; how much could this little cub eat? Vale just looked at him with his intelligent blue eyes.

  When the meal was finished, Combat seemed to pass quickly. Modwyn was teaching the recruits tactics to use while fighting alongside and against a frevmat. Will, Vale, Art, and his calf frevmat, Scarp, were waiting for Combat and Command together when the rest of the cadets and the Warriors arrived. This class began with a brief lecture on infantry formations and their importance in relation to cavalry movement. After, they moved onto dueling.

  Again, Will was paired with Caleb, as the Warrior General was the only cadet in class with a skill level equivalent to Will’s. Confidently, Will reached for his Furialist power, allowing the rush of power to sweep over him. Eyes ablaze, he looked at Vale and found that their mental connection was greater, clearer, and more fluid than ever. Will felt that they were the same entity; one’s breath was the other’s; one’s senses were the other’s. Their minds had fused into one. Will delighted in their new level of connection.

  Caleb raised his sword and motioned for Will to come with his gloved hand. Will drew his sword and looked at it in astonishment. The blade glowed, not blue, not red, but pure white. His connection to Vale seemed to have changed the color of his weapon. Forcing focus back to the task at hand, Will stepped forward and swung his white blade over his head. With all his training, the movement was effortless; the blade was a seamless and lethal extension of his arm.

  He brought it down swiftly, and as Caleb moved to block the strike, Will altered the course of his blow. Caleb hardly blocked the glittering white sword. Sparks danced as the blades glanced off each other. Leaping upon Caleb’s leg, Vale dug his sharp claws and fangs into the Warrior’s leg. Howling, Caleb swatted Vale off of his leg with his free hand. Vale whimpered as he soared through the air, landing on the soft grass.