by D. B. Penner
Will felt pain coursing through his body, doubling over from the intensity of it. He felt Vale’s pain. The infuriating sensation flooded Will’s being; Will was enraged at what Caleb had done, and the fire in his eyes became an inferno. The white sword seemed to be ablaze itself, a wavering, flame-like aura surrounding it. Dashing forward, Will slashed. Caleb attempted to block the berserker’s attack, but when his sword contacted Will’s, a blinding, white flare erupted. The fire surrounding Will’s blade melted through Caleb’s sword, leaving only the grip unharmed. With the swift motion, Will quickly slashed again and buried his sword in Caleb’s side. Ribs cracked beneath the blow; Will withdrew the sword violently and tossed the bloody blade into the grass.
Will knelt next to the wounded Vale, lifting him gently into his arms. Caleb’s anguished screams filled the air as the Warrior General writhed, grinding his broken ribs against one another.
Will, help that boy! Vale cried, a desperate mewl. Call for help!
Are you okay? Will asked tenderly, cradling the cub in his arms. The Furialist’s anger in Will subsided, and he was himself again.
HELP HIM!
Realizing his brutality, Will called for Modwyn who paled as he knelt by Caleb’s side and began to mend his injuries. “Why didn’t you call earlier? A grievous wound such as this necessitates immediate attention,” Modwyn asked after he finished his medical incantation. “And how did you let this happen? We are still in class, not aiming to kill.”
Tension rising, Will struggled to regain full control of his thoughts again. The Furialist power was eager to overcome his mind, but was Will was determined not to give it full reign. After a moment, Will felt the fervor lessen and said, “I don’t know. I thought only about Vale and his safety. I… I couldn’t call for help. I wanted him to be killed for what he’d done.”
Modwyn frowned deeply, but made no attempt to reprimand. Caleb’s breaths came in rasps. He was unconscious and needed to be carried up to the Healer’s Ward. Though he felt he should be, Will wasn’t punished. He felt guilty for hurting his comrade so grievously, but was more sickened with himself for not wanting to help Caleb once he was downed.
Boewdard’s lesson went by quickly. Will and Vivyan lifted the stones again, proceeding to learn how to move them through the air at their whim. The technique was fairly easy; in fact, Vivyan had shown it to Will a day earlier as she had discovered it on her own long ago. Will was beginning to suspect that her weaver talent lay in telekinesis as the spells Boewdard was teaching them, specifically Raisíth, came so naturally to her, whereas Will required two or three attempts at the newer incantations to perform them correctly.
After their lessons had ended, Will walked with Vale, Art, and Scarp to the grounds near the woods. Thirty or so recruits stood around a wooden fence. Smiling broadly, Pat, Ben, and Gregor waved Art and Will over.
“These are great,” Gregor grinned at an eaglet peeking from a pocket in his cloak. “That Bloomington came to us in our free period and let us pick out a frevmat, too. He said, ‘Not all of you will have the mind for it, but no harm in letting you try having a frevmat for a week or two.’”
“Me little critter won’t come out of me bag,” Ben commented, searching his pack for his frevmat. Not finding it, Ben shrugged and fiddled with the hilt of his short sword. “Fat Pat here downright denied the chance to pick one.”
Pat shrugged his chunky shoulders and his head seemed to float as an odd protrusion of his torso. “Grandda always spoke against it. His wisdom and experience is quite a bit greater than mine; I will trust it. I politely suggest you do as well. ‘Nothing but trouble, frevmats,’ my Grandda is always saying. ‘Never trust a man with half his soul wandering around outside his body.’ One must agree with him; the arrangement is wholly unnatural.”
“It’s time for you to display your desire for danger,” Caleb shouted. He was back from the Healer’s Ward, alive, but with a bandage wrapped tightly around his chest. “As cadets, you will soon be dispatched to deal with threats to the smallfolk that live near the castle. The tasks require brave knights and proven warriors. Today, in order to prove to us your mettle and your worth, you must defeat a monster. If you fell the fiend, you are to recover a golden coin from the aforementioned monster to bring back to us. If you fail, then, I’m afraid there is not much for us to do but scrape you off the cave floor. You will be too far into the wood to call for assistance, and most likely, you will die a horrible death. But before you soil your armor, know that you will not face the trial alone. You will face your foe alongside your fellow Faction recruits. Ready yourself, recruits.”
Will approached the Warrior General timidly. “Sorry about earlier.”
“For what? That was a wicked strike, shattering my sword, my ribs, and my self-esteem in one blow. Not bad for a recruit greener than grass,” Caleb said laughing. “It’s official now, though.”
“What’s official?”
“You. You’re now my protégé. I’ll help you become the Warrior you were born to be, and you will replace me as General when I’m enlisted. But even after the Academy, I will guard your flank. Anything you need, simply send word. I’ll be there, and there’s my oath. My word is one not given lightly, and my honor is worth my weight in gold.”
“Gratitude,” Will said, solemnly. “Are not you supposed to do that already, as a Warrior helping a fellow Warrior?”
“You saw how great a lie that sentiment is in the Range. The system is broken, Brightflame. Trust only a select few, and when you shake their hands, count your fingers afterwards.”
Will nodded solemnly. The two stood in silence for a time. Vale weaved between Caleb’s legs purring.
“Caleb, I just noticed something.”
“What is it?”
“I have Vale; he makes a good companion, not to mention he can help in fighting when grows bigger. Why don’t you have a frevmat?”
“Will, I found having a frevmat too complicated. Worth presented me with the same project as you. I couldn’t deal with the responsibility of taking care of another creature for rest of my life. I returned my ‘frevmat’ at the project’s end.”
“I see,” Will said. “I suppose it’s not for everyone. Wait a minute. Isn’t that just what you promised to do for me? Take care of me and all that?”
“Hah, I suppose you’re right. Good luck, kid,” Caleb said changing the subject with one of his goodhearted laughs. Will began to think that there was more to his story, but let the evasion stand unchallenged. Turning around, Will rejoined his Lumberton recruits.
They were led to the forest’s edge, and one by one, the groups were sent in. Occasionally, Will heard screams of fear, even seeing two Soardale boys sprint out of the dark forest and back to the castle.
Caleb sent the Lumbertons--Will, Art, Ben, Gregor, and Pat--in last. Leaving Vale and Scarp behind, they strutted into the forest, with Pat following cautiously a step behind. They quickly found the monster’s lair. It was an ominous pit with an entrance lined with stalactite teeth. Moist air drifted from the mouth of the lair, bringing with it the heavy smell of something rotting. Will strode right in without second thought. Pat hesitated before scampering after Will.
“I’m not going in there,” the Ben said plainly, standing at the entrance to the pit.
“You must to complete the mission,” Will said. “Don’t worry not, we’ll take care of you.”
“I don’t need taking care of because I’m not going in,” Ben stated defiantly, but with an edge of fear in his voice. “You’re both going to die in there.”
“Suit yourself. Come along, Pat; this craven has squandered precious time.”
A screech filled the forest air. The Lumbertons froze, their ears straining to locate the source of the cry. Art tightened the grip on his ax.
“Will, Pat, go on ahead. We will remain and mitigate the unknown threat.”
Will nodded. “If you need aid, holler.”
Leaving their comrades behind, Will and Pat forge
d ahead into the near darkness, which thickened as they descended the steep slope taking them underground.
“Will,” Pat whined, “I can’t see.”
Will rolled his eyes, “Here, just stick close.” Will withdrew from a pocket the vial of Elixir of Illumination he had taken from Survival. The light that had seemed so bright in the classroom had faded, but even its faint light was welcome in the oppressive darkness. Their voices echoed loudly off of the high ceiling. A slight drip, drip of water falling from the moist walls added to the gloomy atmosphere.
“Ugh! A drop hit me. Ow! Another, right in the eye!” Pat cried.
“Don’t look up and you’ll be fine,” Will whispered, growing frustrated at the amount of noise they were making. The fearlessness with which he had entered the cave had faded, leaving Will wary and wishing that a certain party member of his would stay quiet so that the monster they hunted did not find them first.
Pat tripped over a rock hidden in the dark, crashing into Will. The flask of light slipped from Will’s hand, splattering the ground with luminescent slop. The noise of Pat’s lurch and the shattering of the glass on the stone floor rang sharply through the cave. Now mostly blind, Will became aware of a quiet snuffling ahead. “Pat, be quiet! This monster could be anywhere.”
“We need better light if we are to do battle here. Give me a moment,” Pat murmured. “I’ll summon some.”
The boy fell silent in concentration. Will waited patiently, alert for any sound in the dark cave. A full minute passed. Nothing had happened.
“Any luck with light, Pat?”
There was no response for some time. Finally, Pat sighed, “No, no luck. But I shouldn’t need luck to use a simple spell! What would Grandda say? I am the worst mage in all my Bloodline! I am sorry, Will. I’m useless.”
For a moment, Will was tempted to agree, but thought better of poking fun. In the dim light cast by the spilled Elixir, he saw Pat well enough to be able to clap him on the shoulder.
“Cheer up, Pat! Even if you were the worst spell bender in all of Gammalgard, and I’m certain that you’re not, your Grandda should be proud. You are a true Lumberton, valiant and brave. See Ben falter at the first sign of danger? You hardly balked at all and here you are, actively seeking to enter mortal combat with an unknown foe in near darkness. Whether you’re skilled in magic or not, such bravery is to be commended. Your grandfather would be proud.”
“I’m not as brave as you.”
“And why not? You’re here just the same as I am.”
“You never hesitated at the mouth of this cave. You always act deftly as if you know what to no matter the situation. I carry not the confidence in all my body that you have in your left foot.”
Will nearly laughed. “Often wrong, yet never in doubt. I’m afraid that’s my father’s influence on me. But Pat, it’s useless to tell you to be confident in yourself, that is something you need to realize on your own. It’s useless to try to be something you’re not. The effort will leave you weary and unhappy, and the world would miss out on your unique brilliance. You may not be a world-class sorcerer yet, but if you ignore the pressures to fit a specific mold, instead allowing yourself to become your own man, I have no doubt that you will find yourself wielding great power.”
Just as Will finished, a baritone grunt sounded close behind them. Pat shouted, his voice reverberating loudly off the walls. Will quickly drew his sword and saw, in the light of the white blade, a hulking troll.
The troll bellowed and shaded its beady eyes from the bright light with shovel-sized hands. Will froze, remembering his last encounter with a troll at the Jaohn tournament.
They hesitated for a moment, Warrior and troll, each sizing up the other. With a ferocious roar, the troll shook its large head and charged. Leaping to the side just in time, Will dodged a wicked blow from its clenched fist and clambered up the beast’s back.
Trying to maintain his balance, he sawed with all his might in an effort to slit the monster’s throat with his glittering blade. The troll’s massive hand groped wildly for Will, who redoubled his efforts, pumping his arms at a furious pace.
The troll bucked unexpectedly, just as the skin began to give way to the sword’s bite. Will was knocked off-balance and fell hard to the stone floor. The impact winded him, and Will gasped in a vain attempt to refill his lungs.
Rounding on Pat, the troll bared its blunted teeth in a brutish snarl. Will lay helpless as his portly friend stumbled and tripped out of sight.
In total darkness, Pat bounced off walls and staggered across the uneven floor. Will heard the troll take off in pursuit. Regaining his feet, Will forced his uncooperative body to follow the noises of the two figures ahead. Even with the light of his sword to guide him, Will could see neither Pat nor the troll.
The tunnel ceiling grew taller as the ground sloped downwards, and Will ran deeper beneath the earth. He might have been afraid, claustrophobic, if he paused to think about it. But he did not. He had to save Pat.
The cave veered sharply to the right and opened into a wide hollow. This must be its den, Will thought. It would be the end of the burrow, no more room to run.
The smell of the den was thick, oppressive. Will gagged and felt his eyes water in protest to the stench. He ignored the sensations of queasiness the moment he caught a glimpse of Pat in the light of his sword.
Flattened against the back wall of the cave, Pat quivered before the hulking monster before him. He saw Will enter the room and steeled himself. Clasping one fist in the other, Pat grew still as if oblivious to his impending doom.
Will saw this and shouted out, “Run, Pat!” The noise confused the troll, but not as much as Pat’s spell. With a cry, Pat’s hands erupted in white light that filled the whole of the burrow.
Blinded, the troll lurched backwards, landing with a muffled thud on its rear. Covering his eyes from the illumination with his arm, Will leapt again at the disabled troll.
He made quick work of the creature, his blade slashing through the thick hide. The troll jerked, swayed, and collapsed dead to the ground.
“You did it, Pat!”
The other just beamed.
Will presented a large, gold coin he had looted from the troll’s filthy loincloth to Caleb, who smiled broadly, “When the others returned here, I thought you wouldn’t make it back. Yet, you and the fat arrive unscathed and with token in hand. Congratulations.”
“What did you have to face?” Art asked. “The scream we heard was a pack of three goblins. They were patrolling the area; apparently, we had strolled straight into their territory.”
“One of the bastards bit me arm,” Ben smiled proudly, rolling up his sleeve to reveal greening puncture wounds on his forearm.
“Those are just the nibbles from that wench you slept with last week,” Gregor jested. “Funny, I don’t remember her having that many teeth.”
“They are not,” Ben protested.
“My Grandda-” Pat began.
“Knows all about wench nibbles, does he?” chimed in Art gleefully. Pat flushed bright pink.
Will was momentarily afraid that Pat would lose his newfound confidence when the boy surprised them all.
“He’d know a great deal more than you. Though, that’s not such a low bar is it?”
Art looked at Patrick with his mouth agape as the others burst into raucous laughter. Then, Art smiled, pulled Pat into a rough embrace, and joined in the mirth.
Supper that night was a hearty roast duck stew over which the boys jested and exchanged stories of their lives before the Academy. Afterwards, Will hastily finished his homework. He played with Vale before going to bed, wrestling with the leopard cub on his hands and knees. In bed, Vale curled up at Will’s feet, resting small head on furry paws. Good night, little cub. Will said.
You did well today. Until tomorrow, Vale replied with a yawn.
The next morning came too soon for Will’s liking, and he yawned widely as he rubbed his eyes. He looked at Vale and saw t
hat he had grown during the night. The frevmat had lengthened by a great deal and stood now as tall as Will’s knee. His white spotted fur seemed softer and more luscious, having grown thick overnight. The white fangs now protruded just slightly from his mouth. You’ve grown like a nasty weed, Vale. Pouncing on Will’s chest, the leopard sniffed in amusement and licked at Will with a rough tongue.
Winter Frost
The subsequent days passed much as they had the previous week, and the recruits became accustomed to the new Academy environment. Will especially began to feel more at ease living inside the castle, and the weeks quickly became a blur to him. A few weeks became a few months, and then two years.
Nailfram, intense as ever, assigned most of the work Will had to do each night. Admittedly, Will had mastered several new potions, antidotes, and other herbal medicines that would have been difficult without putting forth the extra labor.
Baruktaråg proved as pleasant as his classes were interesting. They finally had exhausted the long-winded subject of Elven history and began learning of the past wars and failed kingdoms of Men.
As became his custom, Boewdard spoke incessantly of the power and the influence Will and Vivyan would hold in the future. Will was beginning to see that Art’s concern about Boewdard’s intentions was not unwarranted. But by then, Will had accepted that particular feature as being part of the Blademaster’s character and did not dwell on the matter.
In Beast Mastery, Worth noted the growth of each frevmat every day. For his part, Vale had grown at a breakneck pace. When he had finally stopped getting bigger, Vale stretched quite long from head to tail and stood as tall as Will’s elbow at the shoulder. The frevmat’s fangs were no longer small pricks but vicious weapons, as sharp as daggers.
Over time, Modwyn grew in Will’s mind to be more friend than teacher, and the two often talking strategy late into the night with Caleb, who had yet to be called into service much to the Warrior General’s frustration. During his time in the two Combat classes, Will’s strength increased dramatically. Under Modwyn’s tutelage, Will learned to fight as a commander, as a unit of infantry, on horseback, and even alone with Vale.