by D. B. Penner
Through the immense work required of these classes, Will’s arms had swelled with muscle, becoming lined with veins; his stomach, too, shed all fat and had become firm. As his eighteenth birthday passed in the autumn of his second year at the Academy, Will noticed that he had grown into his height as well, no longer looking as if someone had stretched him out on the rack. Just as Will had grown in physical strength and height, he also boasted greater control over his abilities with a sword and without, talents that earned him the respect of the other cadets who clamored for a chance to dethrone him as the top duelist in the Range.
Brightflame, as Will was now referred to by everyone but Art, found himself gradually becoming one of the most well-respected cadets in the Academy until it was evident that only Ogdin and his following of Scalefires harbored any resentment for Will. Despite this esteem, Will could count the number of his closest friends on one hand--Art, Pat, Gregor, Ben, and the Warrior General Caleb.
Now, two years after coupling recruit with frevmat, the Beastmaster announced an end to the project by asking the students whether they would like to keep their frevmat or not. For those that accepted the bond, a ceremony would be held on the eve of Winter Frost that would officially bind the recruits to their frevmats followed by a ball to celebrate. It was nearing Winter Frost, and Will was confronted with a problem he could not feasibly hope to rectify with his blade: he was without a dancing partner.
As he had such a phenomenal experience bonding with Vale, Will was surprised to see most recruits chose to return their frevmats. Will noted Ogdin and his gang were the first in line to be rid of their creatures. Among the recruits to decline the frevmat bond was Vivyan, who handed back the figurine of the tiger cub with a saddened expression. Her choice was the one that shocked Will the most. Often, had Will saw Vivyan flaunt her frevmat’s grace and power, a habit to which the enamored Will did not object as it provided ample opportunity to interact with Vivyan.
Of Will’s immediate friends, Gregor had soon grown bored of his flightless fledgling and Ben was never again able to find his frevmat after it disappeared into his pack the first day, so only Will and Art, whose young calf Scarp--grown into a massive bull aurochs that had to be housed in the stables due to his immense size--decided to keep their companions.
With Winter Frost and the ball fast approaching, however, Will did not dwell on his comrades’ decisions as his energy was spent instead on crafting a master strategy that would ensure his success when he finally asked Vivyan to be his dancing partner. Indeed, the whole of the castle’s energies seemed to be focused on the ball in the days building up to the ceremony.
Boewdard had been busy organizing and planning, occupied at all times if not in body then in mind. Allowing Will and Vivyan to practice magic alone in his office, the Blademaster had not been present for their lessons for some time, often showing up only at the end of the period in order to send them away.
When Will asked Boewdard what specifically he was planning that consumed so much time, the Blademaster avoided the question, “Just an unprecedented surprise. And of course, I must prepare the castle for guests. As my most gifted recruits, naturally, I will introduce you to my friends upon their arrival.”
The day before the dance, Will was growing nervous. He had tried to work up enough courage to ask Vivyan to the event but so far had fallen short of the necessary gall. Today, however, Will was intent on asking Vivyan out.
After their lessons were complete, he waited outside the Blademaster’s office for Vivyan to finish talking to Boewdard, who had asked her to stay behind for a minute. When she appeared, Will cleared his throat, praying his jelly knees would stop shaking. “Vivyan, I need to ask a favor of you,” Will began.
“Me first. Will, I am still without a dancing partner for the formal, and I had hoped you would err… well, I’d hoped you would take me, if it please you,” Vivyan said.
“It pleases me more than words can describe.”
“Save your words then,” Vivyan stroked his arm with a soft hand before turning to walk down the corridor. “Tomorrow, William.”
Spared the embarrassment of asking, Will looked up at the ceiling relieved. A task made too easy. I’ve a partner to the formal, a partner to the formal, Will sang to himself.
Be careful, Vale warned.
Must it always be warnings and cautions with you? Cheer up; I’ve got a partner to the formal.
So long as you’re happy, Vale said forlornly.
As excited as Will was, he had trouble sleeping that night. Every time he closed his eyes, Will saw Vivyan and could not help but imagine them intertwined in passionate embrace.
The day of Winter Frost was stunning. Fresh snow had fallen overnight and stuck throughout the day. The afternoon was cloudless, allowing a cold sun to shine on the festivities of that day.
Wearing a ceremonial wolf skin headdress to symbolize his own connection to his frevmat, Worth presided over the procession, a parade of finely dressed recruits and their animals. The Beastmaster chanted words from an ancient language that flowed beautifully together as if they were song. The incantation, flowing and imbued with passion, floated over the ears of all in attendance. Save for the dancing words and a slight wind that rustled the leaves in the trees, everything and everyone were silent.
Worth called to the raised platform from which he addressed those gathered his own frevmat, the wolf Relic. “Two bodies, one soul. From this day forward, you will live as a single being. Two bodies, one soul. Reach out now to your frevmat. Feel his energy, his breath, and his heartbeat. Know that his life’s blood is yours, that yours is his. Two bodies, one soul. Do you accept this bond?”
The query was answered with a resounding “I do” from the recruits standing by their frevmats. Will clasped the nape of Vale’s neck with a gentle hand, relishing the feel of Vale’s luxurious fur.
“Then, let it be so,” Worth concluded the ceremony. The recruits and their newly affirmed frevmats filed forwards to receive the Beastmaster’s blessing, submitting their heads for anointing.
Afterwards, Will felt that Vale and he had truly accepted the bond tying them together. Though neither the manner of their relationship nor the connection they shared had changed in the slightest, in Will’s eyes at least, the ritual made their pact official.
Upon conclusion of the ceremony, the frevmats followed Worth and Relic to the stables for their final instructions while Will, Art, and the rest began to prepare for the dance.
Will threw on a freshly washed, tunic of a fashionable sky blue color over his decorated chainmail. Feeling that nobody would have desire to disturb the night’s revelry, Will left his weapons behind. He needed not bother with his hair, for he had kept it cropped short, but Will could not help fidgeting with it all the same.
Art watched Will nervously fixing his hair and laughed. Art had asked Maribelle, Vivyan’s dearest friend, to Winter Frost before anyone else had even begun to consider asking for a partner. Art’s proposal had taken her by surprise, but with a huge smile Maribelle had consented. Suddenly as gallant as the most chivalrous knight could hope to be, Art had since been seen all over the castle with the young Soardale beauty. Indeed, the two had grown rather fond of each other over the passing weeks. Now dressed in a white tunic, Art laughed at Will with a merry glint in his eyes. “Ready, farm boy?” Art asked as Will adjusted his ornate belt. “Must be perfect for Vivyan, eh?” Art teased, receiving in response a dirty look.
Ben and Gregor met them in the common room each with a young noblewoman on his arm. Of the five friends, Pat alone had not asked for a partner’s hand, a fact that did not bother him in the slightest.
As frevmats were not invited to the formal dance, Will strutted down to the Foyer with the others, leaving Vale in the Pit. Passing his fellow Warrior, Will clapped Caleb on the back. The Warrior General merely grunted a garbled “Hail, protégé” in response, already pressed lustily against one of the Warrior twins.
“Will,” Vivyan call
ed, gracefully gliding toward him. She was stunning, and for several moments, Will could not find his tongue. Clad in a short black dress that revealed more leg than Will had ever seen, Vivyan hugged him tightly. Her hair hung loosely about her alluring face and was perfumed lightly, giving the air about her a hint of lavender.
“You look beautiful!” Will said. “Truly gorgeous,” he said, taking her slender hand in his. A girl nearby glared jealously at Vivyan.
“I wish to dance,” Vivyan declared, leading Will out the open castle doors. A band of musicians and singers was playing soft melodies in the courtyard where a sizable area had been cleared of the snow. Several couples twirled slowly in time with the music. Vivyan pulled Will into the center of the dancing couples, and they began their dance.
For Will, this was heaven. With his hand on Vivyan’s hip and hers on his shoulder, the distance between them was reduced to nothing. The proximity to her lips was making Will’s head swim as he debated whether or not to kiss her.
Before Will had a chance to commit to the act, Blademaster Boewdard appeared, announcing the feast ready to be served and effectively killing the mood for the time being.
At the long table, Vivyan sat close to Will on the bench, her leg brushing against his. Talking with Art and Maribelle, Will and Vivyan thoroughly enjoyed themselves, laughing for hours. Drunk with the atmosphere, Art leaned near to Maribelle and planted a kiss on her cheek. Leading him back onto the dance floor, Maribelle grabbed Art’s hand with an eager smile and left Will and Vivyan continued to sit, talking happily.
After some time, a serving girl sent by Boewdard fetched Will and Vivyan, directing them to where the Blademaster and his friends sat drinking.
“And these, my friends, are the most prized soldiers in all of Bladebeard Academy. Coincidentally, Lady Payne and Brightflame are dancing partners this eve.” The group gasped in unison at the name.
A scarred, barrel-chested man snorted, coughing up his ale. “A jest. Certainly, you jest Boewdard. Though a jape made in poor taste, I dare say. Enlisting the son of Matthew Stormhand? Are you daft?”
“Blademaster Boewdard,” Boewdard corrected, his black eyes narrowed sternly. “This is no jape, Balthazar; they can change the future of our cause. Brightflame, a demonstration, if you would.”
Will looked at Boewdard, then at the party of grim men. It felt strange to be shown off like a prized possession, but Will would not embarrass the Blademaster in front of guests by refusing the request.
The man named Balthazar frowned at him, taking a swig of his brew. Closing his eyes, Will concentrated on the glass from which the man drank. “Canath,” he whispered.
The mug began to shake violently, and Will smiled broadly; his magical abilities enabled him to do things normal men would not think possible. Not that destroying mugs is particularly difficult for me now, Will thought smugly.
Looking rather stupid, Balthazar stared at his flagon with his mouth hanging open. His raggedy, unkempt beard fluttered from the energy now pulsing through the mug.
Suddenly, the mug exploded, spraying ale everywhere. With another muttered command, Will stopped the flying brew in mid-air. After all his practice, the use of that sort of magic hardly caused him to breathe heavily. Releasing his hold, Will allowed the droplets of drink to fall to the ground.
“Inconceivable! I would have never expected this kind of magic of one so young,” a man with a graying beard and bushy eyebrows exclaimed.
Balthazar frowned, “An amusing tavern trick, but it means nothing if he is not on our side. Men, Boewdard here may have created our solution… or another Furialist nightmare. The question remains, will he cooperate?”
“We shall soon see, won’t we? I propose we test his loyalty with the little activity we have planned for this evening,” Boewdard responded evasively.
“You assume too much, Boewdard. Too much is at stake tonight for one of your experiments,” Balthazar said, looking for another flagon of ale. “Whores of Alesai! More ale, you stupid wench.”
At the rough handling of the young serving girl flitting about the table, Boewdard grimaced, malice glinting in his eyes as the cold, black orbs bore into Balthazar’s brutish face.
“Very well,” the Blademaster said evenly. Turning to the recruits, he forced a smile, “Lady Payne, Brightflame, you may take leave. I do not wish to keep you from enjoying all the night has to offer.”
As soon as they were out of hearing range of Boewdard and his companions, Vivyan pulled Will into the Foyer, “Come, I have waited too long. It’s not what a proper lady would do, but I have needs and I cannot resist. Let us take advantage of the evening.”
Surprised at her forwardness, Will grinned, following her up the stairs and into an empty classroom. Spinning around, Vivyan looked at Will expectantly. Will took her hands in his, staring into her enchanting eyes.
“Vivyan, I’ve always known you were the one. From the first moment I set eyes on you, I’ve been drawn to you. When this is over, I want to take you into the country where we can raise a family. I want to make you mine,” said Will, surprising himself at how easily the half-truths rushed from his lips. It seemed, however, to be just what Vivyan had wanted to hear.
“I cannot wait for that future; I need you now.”
Vivyan lunged at Will for a kiss. Wrapping her arms around his neck, her embrace was warm; the tender contact of her lips on his made his skin tingle with electric energy. Will thought for a second that the moment could not be any more perfect, then promptly forgot how to think, his mind clouded. They stood pressed together, lips and bodies. Lips locked, Vivyan guided Will into a chair.
After the initial surprise of the event, Will had let his eyelids fall. Shortly after that, Will’s mind went blank of everything but the young woman writhing in his arms.
Eyes closed, Will did not see the ropes Vivyan conjured float from the corner of the room. In moments, the unsuspecting Will was bound tight to the chair. Realizing with a start of fear what was happening, Will struggled to free himself, but the knots were strong as Vivyan had tied them tight with magic. “I’m so sorry, Will. They were Boewdard’s orders,” Vivyan said. She found she could not make eye contact with him, so she turned away. Vivyan would not let Will see the tears welling in her eyes.
“Why?” he growled, ineffectively struggling against his bonds.
“So that you could not interfere with his plans. You heard that thug Balthazar; Boewdard would be mad to trust you. So, he won’t... yet. Will, you cannot even begin to imagine what good Boewdard will do for the Empire. His work here tonight will change the face of the Shadow Liberator’s struggle.”
“What?” Will exclaimed, “You mean to say that Boewdard is the Shadow, the man my father has been fighting all those years? Balthazar was right; I would never help him!”
“No, you still fail to see all in its entirety. Boewdard isn’t intelligent enough to plan the entire war and evade the Emperor’s troops for so long. He is only a pawn to my master, only a small player in the grand scheme,” Vivyan said.
“Whom exactly do you serve then, daughter of troll? I curse you and your family to oblivion,” Will spat, his eyes turning red as his fury rose. “To think I trusted you.”
“Will, please, you must understand,” Vivyan cried. In her face was desperation, but Will’s face remained hard to her plea. “In truth, I know not whom I serve, but I know His plan. In the end, all will benefit. Social order will be returned and all will know their place. Only then may peace be returned to the Empire. As for our beloved Blademaster, Boewdard is one of His commanders; to think a weak-minded bastard like him is highly regarded. I laugh at the thought. You saw those men at the feast, how they have so little respect for him. They are Boewdard’s lieutenants. They despise him, yet they obey. And tonight, they seek to bolster their ranks here at the Academy, slaughtering all who oppose them.”
“How did you come to know all this?” Will asked.
“The plan? I knew Boewdard’s loyalty l
aid not with the Empire for some time. When Boewdard finally found me out, I told him all I knew, and he initiated me into the Shadow’s Liberated Army. I myself devised the plan shortly thereafter. I will admit, it is not elegant, rather barbaric for my tastes, but I saw no other option. There will be resistance, but the safest course of action is to put it down with blade and spell. Tonight, Boewdard makes his move. If all goes according to plan, the Blademaster will induct many of the cadets here at the Academy into Liberated Army. The rest shall be slain, a whole generation of leaders lost to the Empire and gained by the Shadow Liberator.”
“Why, Vivyan? Why join with the Shadow? And does he not want me as well? Could he not foresee that tying me up in an abandoned room will alienate me?”
Vivyan laughed. Despite the circumstances, the sound still softened Will’s temper. Vivyan smiled, “If nobody else wants you, Brightflame, I do. I do not lie when I say that my desire for a man has never been so great. To have you warm betwixt my thighs every night… The thought is the essence of my dreams.”
“But why the Shadow?” Will asked, now surveying his temptress with a mixture of pity and longing. If only she had not chosen this path, Will thought despondently.
Vivyan pulled a strand of hair out of her face agitatedly. “The Paynes are a proud Bloodline of long lineage. Of late, the Emperor has been prone to elevating gold-obsessed merchant families far beyond their station. Positions rightfully belonging to my brothers, my uncles, and my father have been filled by this sublimated peasant filth. It is my duty as a Payne to join against my family’s enemy. Paynes protect our own.”
“A bigot, you hold prejudices against those who seek advancement for their children, to provide a better life than that in which they were raised. I thought you better, Vivyan. Have you no empathy?”
“You speak to me of empathy? Do pirates raid your lands? Do your villagers know the sound of death at their doors? Death is oars on the river and the shout of an armed bandit as he jumps the gangplank. My people know death. They also know rape, theft, kidnap, and massacre. The income stolen from my family by those of lesser Bloodlines would have been used to protect our lands. As is, our coffers run dry and our people are in need of drink. Do not lecture to me on issues of empathy, William.”