Cursed Knight

by Elmon Dean Todd

  Kairos rubbed his head. The blow was meant to be playful, but it felt like someone had struck him with a rock. ‘Okay, I get it!’

  Mr. Dubose handed the rucksack and the sword back to Kairos. ‘Give the sword to Flain immediately upon arriving at Valour Keep. Otherwise, you’ll be disciplined for carrying a weapon. And give him this letter, too.’ He handed over an envelope, which Kairos almost dropped as his hands were already busy holding the rucksack and the sword. ‘Well, you’d better get going. Those knights don’t like being here, and the dwarves don’t like them here, either.’

  ‘Thank you for everything, Mr. Dubose,’ Kairos said.

  The dwarf snorted. ‘Don’t thank me. Go become a knight so you can start repaying me for all the food you’ve eaten from my pantry.’

  Chapter nine

  Knight Academy

  The line between a healer and necromancer is a very thin one, indeed. Both users manipulate the mana of the surrounding nature to do their bidding. One encourages the stabilisation of the injured or dying spirits, while the other contaminates and corrupts.

  Treatise of the D’Kari Arts’, Acolyte Clovis

  I

  t was 965 A.C. Spring had come early this year. The melting of the snow and rivers, and the blooming of the flora and fauna brought new excitement to Valour Keep.

  The squires were in good spirits upon their return from Yule, all eager to complete their training and pass their test. They were well past the halfway point of the Academy, and now they all knew each other, the pranks and jokes ran freely. Kairos and Vaughn still did not speak, but they nodded a silent greeting whenever they passed by each other. Each squire knew that their time at the Academy was nearing an end, and with each passing day, they tried to enjoy what remained.

  The only person not enjoying herself was Althea.

  She seemed more forlorn and serious than ever, since her return from the Yule holidays. Everyone in Valour Keep heard about the incident at her home and offered their obligatory condolences, which caused Althea to withdraw even further. Everyone recognised her grief, and left her alone, partly out of sympathy, but mostly because they felt awkward around her.

  Only Kairos lingered, but even he did not understand the turmoil in her mind.

  For most of her life, Althea felt as though she walked in her father’s shadow. He was a great and powerful Dragon Knight, while she could not even muster up an average spell. She felt like a failure. Though she never admitted it to anyone else, her father was the only reason she was allowed into the Academy. Despite the advantage of nepotism, some instructors tried to weed her out – and they almost succeeded. She couldn’t do the lessons, and the physical training was too demanding. She had been on the verge of giving up since day one.

  Until the skirmish with Togram.

  She saw the dwarf trying to kill Kairos. Althea witnessed their exchange from the second floor of the temple, as she hid up the stairs and listened. When the dwarf approached Kairos and drew his sword, her heart lurched, she couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. Summoning her mana and willing her hand to not shake, she had traced the fire glyph that singed the dwarf’s hair and allowed Kairos to escape.

  That was when Althea realised that up till that moment, she was trying to become a knight for the wrong reasons. To her, being a Mana Knight was all about parading around in fancy armour, showcasing one’s authority, and basking in a hero’s praise from the grateful populace. She fantasised about the image and adulation her father had.

  The encounter with Togram shattered that image. She finally began to understand the high stakes for which she gambled, stakes that would make her feel a sense of accomplishment, but would also kill her. The Knighthood was extremely dangerous.

  Then Togram returned and murdered Stella.

  When Kairos mentioned that killing Togram would have prevented more murders, he unknowingly cut into Althea’s soul very deeply with his sharp words. She knew that he was speaking the truth and meant no harm, but she felt that killing anyone was wrong. Doing so would cause her to stoop to the dwarf’s level.

  It took several days for Althea to speak to Kairos again, and they had avoided talking about Togram and Stella – although their shadows seemed to lurk in the background of any conversation, out of sight, but always nearby.

  In Althea’s case, time was the panacea. The passing weeks made her sadness recede, to be replaced by a new resolve. She vowed to improve herself, both in her magic and physical abilities, until she completed the Academy. She would prevent more wanton killings.

  Word of Sir Hugo’s recovery around Valour Keep also offered her a sense of ease. She felt guilty about the Wolf Knight’s injuries, and his death would have eaten away at her conscience.

  Althea made progress for the remainder of winter, aiming for faster times on the obstacle course and swift victories when sparring with the others. She persisted in her magic practise with unrelenting fervour. Whenever she had a free moment, she traipsed off to the training hall where she could practise spells on the corzite targets without fear of hurting anyone. During these training sessions, she replayed, over and over, the scenario of Togram attacking Kairos. She decided it was pure luck that the dwarf’s hair had caught on fire. The spell was weak, and had she not been lucky, Kairos would have died. Althea would be better prepared for next time.

  Flain took notice of her recent improvements.

  ‘Squire Avenal,’ he said one day after Althea completed the obstacle course faster than most of the others, ‘I used to think you were the most useless human being I had come across in all my years on Alban, with no chance at redemption, but I realised I was wrong. It seems that you actually can polish a rusty sword.’

  ‘Um, thank you, Sir Flain?’

  Sir Flain did not respond, only took his place before the recruits in the Commons. He regarded them with a sour look on his face, as if he were about to make a very bad decision. His customary frown had deepened more than usual, if that were possible.

  ‘Listen up, you worms,’ he said. ‘Henceforth, we will train with real weapons. As some of you may already know, our standard issue weapon is the mana lance. These are the easiest to use and carry around.’ He drew a crystal-tipped rod from his belt and hoisted it high. ‘All you do is channel a little of your mana into it like this–’ Flain’s hands glowed and the mana lance began to extend to four times its length, ‘and now you have a weapon that should protect you, should your magic ever fail. Now you try.’

  The paladin and another knight handed out the mana lances.

  Althea hefted her mana lance. It was lighter than she thought it would be. Just as Flain instructed, she willed a portion of her mana into the staff, and the shaft extended into the length of a normal spear, but she barely had enough mana to extend the crystal-pointed tip a foot.

  That was the one thing she didn’t improve much upon – mana. She wondered what she was doing wrong. She wasn’t alone. She looked over at Kairos, who stared at his mana lance with a darkened expression, making no attempt to activate it for combat.

  She wondered what was ailing him. Was he not feeling well today? No, that wasn’t right. He had excelled at the obstacle course, as usual, running about with an air of contentment like a child during playtime. No, he was fine until he was asked to channel mana.

  Flain also noticed. ‘Squire Azel, why aren’t you engaging your mana lance?’

  Kairos acted as if he didn’t hear anything.

  Flain’s scowl deepened, and he marched towards Kairos to confront him. ‘Squire Azel! I asked you a question. Now you–’

  A glowing crystal tip grazed Flain’s hair as he ducked, just in time.

  ‘Oops,’ said an embarrassed Shah, sheepishly clutching the mana lance that had almost skewered his instructor. ‘Sorry about that, sir.’

  Flain rounded on Shah and snatched his mana lance away. As he continued berating the hapless squire, Althea saw Kairos breathe a sigh of relief. A murky understanding began to coalesce in her
mind. The answer was fuzzy, but the more she thought about his strange behaviour since their first encounter, the clearer it became.

  Her thoughts were interrupted, because Flain was apparently finished yelling at Shah.

  ‘Attention!’ Flain yelled, directing the squires' focus back towards him. ‘You received those mana lances for a reason. As you all may well know, due to recent and unfortunate circumstances, we have a shortage of knights in the field. Therefore, we have many unfulfilled quests from the citizens of Vadost and its surrounding region. Thankfully, the Knighthood has allowed us the honour of performing that deed – though looking at you pathetic excuses for human beings, I would say that honour is well undeserved.’ The paladin fixed his recruits – who now stood aghast – with a scathing eye. ‘Don’t worry. The Knighthood knows that you aren’t big enough to wipe your arses yet – especially you!’ He cast a fiery gaze on Shah, who slunk his head. ‘That’s why you’ll be getting the easiest of assignments. And you’ll have a seasoned knight coming along to help in case you botch the job miserably. Any questions?’

  The class was quiet.

  ‘Good.’ Sir Flain looked at everyone and nodded. ‘There is no need to fear. The key to success is constant training. You are free to spend the remainder of the day doing just that. Dismissed.’

  The squires began chatting excitedly with each other as Flain walked away. Almost every squire was eager to stab a mana lance into something. They practised channelling mana into the lances, along with the jabs and swings that Flain had made them do thousands of times over. The mana lances were much lighter than the practise spears. Everyone marvelled how easily they could fight with them. As they drilled themselves for the next hour, some began trading jokes and good-natured insults, and a few imitated Sir Flain in the act of berating the other squires, though they first made sure to look around to check if Flain was still in the vicinity.

  Shah joined in with his own humour. ‘There is need to fear,’ he barked in perfect imitation of Flain as he puffed his chest out and pretended to admire the backside of Squire Urzen. ‘Flower Flain is at your rear!’

  No one laughed. A few of the other squires coughed and shuffled their feet uncomfortably.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Shah asked. ‘That’s funny!’

  Kairos tried to hiss a warning, but Shah remained oblivious. He finally noticed several squires looking past him.

  ‘Oh… He’s right behind me, isn’t he?’ Shah said, defeated.

  ‘Yes, Squire Shah, he is,’ came Sir Flain’s low, deadly voice. ‘You must really like running until you puke.’

  Slowly turning, Shah said, ‘N-no, Sir Flain, I was just–’

  ‘Oh, I know what you were doing.’ Looking at the silent squires, Flain asked, ‘Don’t we have something better to do? Class dismissed!’

  As the squires scattered, Flain said to Shah, ‘Oh, not you, Squire Shah. I have another task for you.’ The knight flashed a wicked smile.

  Shah swallowed hard, trying to keep his knees from knocking together.

  As Althea left, she turned one last time and saw Flain doling out physical punishment of the worst kind on the unfortunate squire, who looked like he was facing his own doom. In a way, she envied Shah. She would trade places with him in an instant, if it would rid herself of her worries, her fears, and the memories of Stella’s death. The physical pain of Shah’s punishment seemed to pale in comparison to the mental anguish raging inside of her soul.

  The time of the Knight’s Test was nigh approaching and she wasn’t ready. She needed more training. Her mana level was insufficient and she didn’t know what she would do in combat. She could only think of one person who could help her: Professor Argent.

  During the storm of her internal struggle, she had forgotten about Kairos, who still stood near Flain and Shah, hopelessly gripping the still-retracted mana lance.

  * * *

  The mana lance felt cold and lifeless in Kairos’s hands.

  He watched the other students and attempted to copy them. It was no use. He could not activate the weapon and he already knew why. He knew before he had even touched the weapon: he was god-cursed with no mana.

  He felt numb as he stood there, unaware that the class had been dismissed. He didn’t notice that Althea had left. He could only see the mana lance in front of him, and, try as he might, he could not channel anything into the weapon. If he couldn’t activate a standard-issue weapon, the Knighthood would eventually discover his shortcomings and kick him out. Why had Professor Argent even allowed him entry into the Academy if wielding a mana lance was a prerequisite?

  ‘What are you still doing here?’ a stern voice demanded. ‘I said that class was dismissed.’

  Kairos looked up as if he were in a daze. Sir Flain stood in front of him, looking angry, as usual. Shah lay on the cold ground, out of breath and covered in sweat.

  Flain continued, ‘I also said to give back my mana lances, so if you don’t hand it back over right now, I’m going to snatch it from you and clobber you over the head with it.’

  ‘Oh, right,’ Kairos said contritely, handing the weapon over and inwardly bracing himself for a scolding. ‘Sorry, Sir Flain.’

  Flain eyed him. ‘Do you know what your problem is, Azel? You think too damn much. That’s my job. Your job is to take orders from me. If you did only that, then your life would be much easier.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Kairos said hastily, suddenly self-conscious that the paladin could read his troubled mind. Perhaps his tormenting thoughts appeared on his facial expressions. He decided to heed the paladin’s advice. ‘Yes, sir,’ he said again, turning to follow the other squires who had already left.

  ‘One more thing, Azel.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘Is there something you’re not telling me?’ Flain affixed him with a scrutinising gaze.

  He knows. Kairos couldn’t meet Flain in the eye. This is it. I’m done.

  ‘Answer the question!’ Flain yelled.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Kairos said dejectedly. He might as well tell the truth now. It was bound to come out sooner or later. ‘I’m afraid that I cannot use the mana lance.’

  ‘Perhaps a different weapon would suit you better then.’

  Kairos looked up. ‘Sir?’

  ‘Did I stutter, squire?’ Flain gestured to the mana lance. ‘You looked more awkward than Shah, holding one of these. Would you prefer another weapon – such as a sword?’

  Kairos was unsure if he had heard correctly. ‘Is that allowed, sir? I thought the mana lance was the standard issue weapon of the–’

  ‘See? That’s your damn problem! You think too much. So a sword, it is, then. Very well, starting tomorrow, you will use a practise sword for training.’ Flain turned to leave, but paused. ‘And to answer your question, it is allowed… Using swords, that is. During my great grandfather’s time, most Mana Knights carried swords, though that tradition has long disappeared. The invention of the mana lance changed that.’

  ‘How so, sir?’

  ‘Because a sword requires a lot of training to become skilful. Mana lances and spears don’t. Even an untrained spearman can easily defeat a skilled swordsman if he utilises the advantage of reach. Mana lances are also lighter and easier to carry around. But if you want to carry a sword, I won’t stop you.’

  Kairos bowed. ‘Thank you, sir.’

  ‘Don’t thank me,’ Flain said gruffly, pulling out a letter. ‘Thank Mr. Dubose. According to this letter, he vouched for your swordsmanship. So starting tomorrow, you’re going to start training like a barrel of gnome powder has been shoved up your arse with a burning torch.’

  Kairos wiped the sweat from his brow as he walked back to the barracks, fatigued with sudden relief. He did not know how much longer he could go on with this ruse. It was only a matter of time before somebody discovered that he was god-cursed.

  But for now, he had managed to avoid another problem.

  * * *

  Althea thought of turning back once she en
tered the Gauntlet, the row of living quarters for the teaching faculty – instructors, professors, and scholars – at Valour Keep. According to Shah (who was a frequent visitor), the place earned its name due to the punishments professors doled out to squires, after hours. Even Flain had his own quarters here, complete with a large garden and a greenhouse, accommodating many colourful varieties of flower, thus earning him his much loathed nickname, ‘Flower Flain.’

  It was a beautiful garden, Althea thought, as she strolled past. She wondered why the hot-tempered and foul-mouthed paladin took such a passionate interest in gardening. It was such an odd contrast to his hot-headed demeanour. She forced her wandering thoughts to focus on her current task; she had questions and needed answers.

  For a long while, Althea had kept her shortcomings pent up inside. It was no secret to everyone else that her mana was lacking, but pride compelled her to avoid seeking help. There were other reasons, too. She didn’t want to be labelled as incompetent. Mana Knights were not supposed to beg for help; they were supposed to render help. After extensively deliberating her options, along with a strong dose of desperation, she came to the conclusion she would ask Argent.

  The professor acted aloof during class, rarely engaged anyone in conversation, and he seemed like a loner outside of the classroom. But whenever she had a question or concern, he always helped. She figured the anti-social professor would keep her request private, even if he refused to help her. What did she have to lose? Pride, maybe. And she had already lost so much of that during her tenure at the Academy.

  She approached his quarters and saw candlelight flickering from within the window. Perfect, she thought. As she raised her hand to rap on the door, the sound of voices from inside made her hesitate.

  ‘But he is! I’ve seen him before he came to Ordonia!’ said a man’s voice. It sounded very familiar, yet very brutish.

  ‘There are other methods,’ said another voice – Argent’s. ‘Don’t forget I’ve toiled long and hard for this position. I’d rather keep it.’