Cursed Knight

by Elmon Dean Todd

  ‘When I call your name, you will come forward and accompany either me, Instructor Jomur here, or Professor Bumbershoot,’ Argent gestured to an old man poking at an anthill with his cane, oblivious to his name being called, ‘to the Chamber of Trials where you will demonstrate your knowledge of glyphs and spellcasting. The rest of you will wait here until called upon.’

  Althea heard several names called out and jumped when hers came up. Her breathing quickened. There was no way she could cast a spell now – her hands were shaking too much and the mana in her body fluttered about, out of control. She looked up and saw Professor Argent was staring right at her.

  ‘This way, Lady Avenal,’ he said.

  She followed him towards a nearby tower, nervous tears brimming in her limpid eyes.

  * * *

  The training grounds cleared out considerably after many of the recruits were called upon. Kairos still remained, sitting on a stone bench, wondering how he was going to demonstrate spellcasting when he had never once cast a spell in his life. He also didn’t know a thing about glyphs. He sighed and thought of what Thylar used to tell him: One step at a time.

  There was no use worrying. He would act when the time came.

  ‘Hey, you!’ a harsh voice called out, breaking him out of his musings. Kairos looked over and saw two boys and a girl lounging by the side of the building. He recognised two of them as the bullies from Lazio Fountain: Vaughn and Claudius, the boys he had almost fought. He did not recognise the girl.

  ‘You don’t look so tough without Lord Avenal around,’ the tall, stocky one, known as Vaughn, said. ‘Maybe you’re spending time with his daughter hoping to get your prick wet.’ He made a thrusting motion with his hips, stuck his tongue out, and rolled his eyes into the back of his head. His companions laughed.

  Kairos ignored them and stood up to move away, but Vaughn stepped into his path, blocking it. The other two edged closer.

  ‘Don’t be so rude. Aren’t you here to enter the Mana Knight Academy, too? Where’s that bravado you had earlier?’ Vaughn clenched his fists and puffed out his chest, imitating Kairos’s actions from their previous encounter. ‘Oh, that’s right, Lord Avenal is not here to save you now. Care to finish what was started?’

  Kairos could feel his face flush in anger. His hands clenched into fists at his side. But he remembered Galen and Althea’s words. He must control his anger. He should not let this fool goad him, he would lose his only chance into the Knighthood. Maybe that was Vaughn’s intention.

  ‘You wouldn’t behave so boorishly if your friends weren’t here, Vaughn. I’ve heard that your level of mana would make you a powerful Mana Knight. You would do well to act as such. You demean yourself and the Knighthood.’ Kairos made an attempt to sidestep Vaughn, but the tall boy moved again to block his path. His companions had stopped laughing now. The encounter took on a vicious edge. Vaughn put one hand on Kairos’s chest and raised the other one, the fingertips glowing with energy.

  ‘Watch it, boy,’ he snarled.

  ‘No, you watch it,’ countered Kairos in a glacial tone. He stared Vaughn directly in the eyes. He had to raise his head slightly to do so. ‘Take your hand off of me, or you’ll regret it.’

  The two stared at each other for a long time, neither giving in. Vaughn’s companions shifted nervously and looked around. ‘Um, Vaughn,’ said the girl, who was Althea’s age with long, chestnut hair. ‘Someone’s coming.’

  ‘Kairos Azel!’ A voice called out. It was Professor Argent. ‘This way, please.’

  Reluctantly Vaughn removed his hand and let Kairos pass. But he could not resist having the last word. ‘You’d better quit the Academy now, you git. Otherwise you’re in for a long, painful time.’

  As Vaughn’s companions laughed, Kairos walked away with the professor to take the Badger’s Trial.

  * * *

  ‘So what you’re telling me is that you don’t have any knowledge of glyphs or spellcasting?’ Professor Argent asked in a mild tone.

  Kairos thought he detected a glint of amusement in the silver-haired man’s eyes. ‘No.’

  ‘No, sir,’ the professor admonished gently.

  ‘No, sir,’ Kairos said.

  Every muscle in his body tensed. His stomach churned and squirmed, and his heart lurched and pressed painfully against his chest. He tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry. His palms were so sweaty that they left wet streaks when he wiped them on his shirt.

  The Chamber of Trials looked very different to what Kairos had imagined. It was like any other ordinary room – and neat, orderly, and clean. A few desks here and there, bookshelves along the walls, and a large stone table, which held parchments, a quill pen, and an ink pot. The only oddity in the room was a human-shaped figure suspended on chains, resembling the straw dummy that Mr. Dubose used for weapon practise in his workshop. This dummy, however, was made of blue rock. Kairos recognised it as corzite, the same material Mr. Dubose had.

  The room was a disappointment for Kairos. He had envisioned vicious creatures, rampant sorcery, and other monstrosities greeting him. Instead, Professor Argent asked him to trace glyphs, which was needed for spellcasting, and to draw runes on a sheaf of parchment, neither of which he could do, both of which increased his anxiety.

  When he failed each task miserably, the professor regarded him with a shrewd glance, his eyes narrowing. ‘This test is of the utmost importance for entering the Knighthood,’ the professor began. ‘We give this test to every child who attempts to enrol prior to his or her entrance. It determines whether you possess the basic knowledge and fundamentals to fulfil the requirements the Academy will place on you. But in all my years, I have never met a child who has the magical knowledge of a dwarf. Are you making a mockery of this test, or is your education that lacking? Do you come from a farm in the middle of nowhere?’

  Kairos looked away. He had never felt so much shame in his life, not even when he had placed last in the Azel Clan’s arm wrestling competition, resulting in his father almost disowning him. At least then, he had known what he was doing. Here, he had no idea how to trace a glyph or cast a spell. He dared not say so, however.

  Professor Argent’s gaze softened in understanding. ‘Try this,’ he offered, raising a finger. ‘Focus your mana into the tip of your finger and trace this glyph into the air. It’s a simple glyph. A mere light spell, often the first spell anyone learns.’ The professor’s fingertip glowed faintly, and he drew a pattern in the air, which left a glowing afterimage. The pattern became a glyph, which flashed when completed, and a ball of white light flared into existence, hovering above the professor’s hand and brightening the room. He extinguished it quickly. ‘Now you try.’

  Kairos turned inward, focusing on the very core of his being, to draw the energy out. He wanted this so much. He needed to become a knight. Galen said it was one of the few ways he could earn a ship and Kairos could see no other method. He willed everything into his fingertip, which was glistening with sweat. He felt his body trembling under the strain to steady his finger, and somehow, he managed to trace the same glyph as the professor, or at least he thought he had.

  Apparently, Kairos had imitated the spell perfectly. The professor’s look soon turned to one of puzzlement.

  Nothing happened. No glyph flashed. No ball of light appeared.

  Grave disappointment flooded Kairos’s being. Did he do the spell wrong? ‘I can try it again,’ he said.

  ‘No,’ the professor said. ‘You performed the glyph well. Exactly as I have, in fact.’

  ‘Then what’s wrong?’ asked Kairos. ‘Why did the spell not work?’

  The professor said nothing, instead he thrust his right hand into the fold of his robes and pulled out an object that resembled a short wooden staff with a transparent cube embedded on the end. Before Kairos could ask what the object was, the professor aimed it at him, and the cube flashed.

  Kairos shielded his eyes with his arms. When he realised nothing bad was going to happen, he lowered
his arms. ‘What happened? What did you do?’

  Professor Argent stared intently at his cube-topped staff, and for the briefest instant, his face took on a look of bewilderment, but he caught himself and his face resumed its original stone-façade.

  ‘What is it?’ Concern crept into Kairos’s voice.

  ‘My dear boy...’ Argent began. ‘It appears that you have no mana.’

  Chapter six

  Hammerfall Festival

  The Order of the Mana Knights formed during the Age of Chaos, the chaotic period of time after the gods’ departure from Alban. The Knighthood’s primary objective is to secure and protect the godshards. Secondary objectives include taking on quests to protect the weak and defenceless, and abide by the code of chivalry and honour.

  ‘The History of the Mana Knights’, Sir Edwin Rosal

  J

  ace Dubose was pacing back and forth in the courtyard, eager to know the outcome of the Badger’s Trial. He saw the recruits come out and greet their family members and friends, mostly with excitement, though some of them gave a firm shake of their heads as if deciding that knighthood wasn’t for them. Althea finished her trial before Kairos and hugged her proud father.

  The last of the recruits trickled out, and still no sign of Kairos. Galen and Althea came over to the dwarf, who didn’t even notice them at first.

  ‘Worried?’ Galen asked.

  ‘Me?’ Mr. Dubose was appalled by the question. ‘No! I’m bored. There’s nothing to do but stand around and wait. A dwarf’s worst nightmare, considering I’m the only non-human here.’ He spat for emphasis, which caused a nearby knight to frown.

  The dwarf was indeed worried, though he would never admit such a thing, even to himself. As far as anyone else was concerned, the boy just happened to be a good apprentice who, despite being human, worked as hard as any other dwarf from Dvergar. And he didn’t want anything bad to happen to a good apprentice.

  ‘How’s the boy coming along?’ Galen asked.

  ‘Not as good as a dwarf, mind you,’ Mr. Dubose answered. ‘But he knows how to finish a job, I suppose. He’s already started working on weapons.’

  The knight nodded with a knowing smile. ‘Do you have any plans for him before he starts the Academy?’

  ‘We have the Hammerfall Festival coming up.’ The dwarf tugged his beard in thought, and glanced at Althea who was hovering behind Galen, pretending not to listen. ‘It’s usually for dwarves, but I guess you’re invited. Would you like to come along?’

  Althea’s eyes brightened. ‘Yes!’ she interrupted, a little more enthusiastically than she intended, caught herself, and blushed.

  ‘We’ll have to ask Stella,’ Galen cautioned. ‘You know how she fusses over your whereabouts.’

  Althea grimaced, her hopes dashed. ‘I know.’

  ‘I’m sure the kid would like that,’ Jace Dubose said. ‘It’s in three weeks.’

  They talked for a while longer and made tentative plans, but the dwarf barely listened. Eventually the Dragon Knight and his daughter left, the sun began its descent, and he ran out of patience. He was about to enter the Chamber of Trials to find out what was bloody taking so damn long when Kairos emerged.

  * * *

  As the sun dipped into the western mountains, Jace Dubose and Kairos made their way along the city road back to Dwarfside. Kairos sulked and glared at the ground as if he held a personal grudge against the earth, kicking a loose stone here and there.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Mr. Dubose asked.

  ‘Nothing,’ came the cold reply.

  ‘Horseshit,’ said the dwarf. ‘You came to Valour Keep happier than a stag in rutting season, and came out looking as though the whole herd rejected you. Something happened in there, and I understand it bothers you.’

  ‘No, you wouldn’t understand,’ Kairos said.

  ‘Bah, you’re sixteen… and a human. I think I can understand a damn sixteen-year-old human.’

  The boy frowned and turned away. The dwarf saw the look, and his tone softened.

  ‘Look, lad. If something is bothering you, then speak up about it. I may have a solution. Keeping these problems bottled up inside won’t help either of us. I sure don’t want to have you moping around my workshop like that. It’s depressing me just to look at you.’

  Kairos stopped and told Mr. Dubose about the Chamber of Trials.

  ‘What do you mean that you have no mana?’ Mr. Dubose asked.

  ‘Professor Argent said that I have no mana,’ Kairos answered glumly. ‘He compared my situation to dwarves and gnomes.’

  The dwarf was astonished. Never in all of his ninety-three years had he ever heard of a human with no mana. All humans had mana. Gnomes and dwarves did not. It was impossible for humans to intermingle with other races, so Kairos being a half-breed was out of the question – although why any race would want to mingle with an ugly human was beyond the dwarf’s comprehension anyway. He suspected a prank at first, but another look at the boy’s pale face revealed the truth. And, Jace thought, he had never seen the boy cast a spell during the past few months, or even demonstrate a sliver of magic. Something was odd about all of this.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry kid,’ said Mr. Dubose, gripped by profound sympathy. He once tried – with Galen’s help – to become a Mana Knight, himself. The Knighthood rejected him based on two things: he had no mana, and he was a dwarf. One of the Dragon Knights at the time told him that the point of being a Mana Knight was to ‘have mana.’ The memory made the dwarf seethe. ‘If the Knighthood won’t accept you, there are thousands of other things to do.’

  ‘The strange thing is,’ said Kairos, ‘that they didn’t reject me. Professor Argent told me he would put me in his class, along with the other squires who demonstrated low proficiency.’

  This was another surprise for the dwarf. ‘He did? How so?’

  ‘Well, that puzzled me at first, too,’ Kairos said, lifting his head up. ‘But Professor Argent had received a letter of recommendation from Lord Avenal and Gulliver about how I killed an elven soldier from Malus’s army. He said that based on my m-m-metal…’ Kairos struggled to remember the word.

  ‘Mettle,’ Mr. Dubose offered.

  ‘Right,’ Kairos continued. ‘He said based on that along with my willingness to fight Malus’s army, I would make a great candidate for Knighthood. So he made an exception and offered to teach me directly so I could succeed. He said I had promising skills for a warrior, and it would be a waste if I didn’t make it, so he would like to help.’

  ‘That’s wonderful news!’ the dwarf yelled, giving Kairos a slap of approval on the back that was so hard, it sent the boy pitching forward. ‘So why are you so upset? Oh, that’s right. You have no mana.’

  Kairos looked around in alarm. ‘Mr. Dubose, please don’t mention that so loudly. What will I do without mana?’

  Mr. Dubose shrugged. ‘The same thing you’ve been doing. That means you’re just like a dwarf, then. We get along fine without mana. It may be a problem for you in the Academy, though.’

  ‘Professor Argent said the same thing, especially if the other knights or instructors found out. Some of the tests require some degree of magic skill.’ Kairos paused and stepped aside to allow a horse-drawn wagon to pass. The dwarf did the same, and when the wagon was out of earshot, the boy continued, ‘One other problem is fighting. How do I fight against those who use magic when I cannot?’

  ‘Bah! Magic doesn’t determine an outcome of a fight. It’s merely a tool, just as your sword and shield are tools. As long as you know how to use them better than your opponent, you can win.’ Seeing Kairos about to say something, the dwarf held up a hand. ‘Of course, magic is a powerful tool, but some of those humans and elves get so caught up with wiggling their fingers and throwing spells around that they’d never see a punch coming.’

  Kairos did not say anything. He walked alongside the dwarf, staring, with envy, at the townspeople going about their everyday lives. They used magic for everything, from
watering their gardens to heating their stoves. Magic made everything convenient.

  Mr. Dubose understood how the boy felt. All dwarves, at some point in their lives, felt the pang of not being able to use magic. He remembered his childhood of building forts and hurling imaginary spells at the other dwarven children. He heard many grown-up dwarves grumble about the ‘useless’ magic-users. He had done so himself, but deep down, he knew they felt the stab of jealousy and inadequacy, for if it were not for magic, the dwarves would not have lost the war and ceded most of their lands to the humans all those centuries ago.

  ‘The professor also said something else,’ Kairos began, as if reluctant to speak. His tone had taken on a sense of dread.

  ‘Go on,’ the dwarf said, fearing the onset of worse news.

  ‘He mentioned the legend about the ‘Curse of the Gods.’ Have you heard of this?’

  Jace Dubose snorted. ‘I have, boy. It’s just superstitious nonsense from humans who worshipped Zemus. An old wives’ tale.’

  Kairos dipped his head in acknowledgement, but appeared uneasy. ‘Yes. The professor said the humans with this curse could bring about the destruction of civilisation. He said that a group of these humans, working under a god named Murasa, wrought havoc before the Celestial War. That’s why the Badger’s Trial took so long. He was explaining all of this to me, and told me not to tell anyone.’

  Mr. Dubose snorted. ‘Well, you’re telling me!’

  ‘You don’t count.’

  ‘I don’t count,’ the dwarf grumbled. ‘Remind me to never tell you any secrets, then.’

  Kairos stopped in the middle of the street and took a deep breath. ‘Mr. Dubose, I am being earnest. You don’t think I’m god-cursed, do you?’

  The dwarf laughed, which caused Kairos to glare at him. ‘I don’t think this is funny.’