Knight Rising

by T. Mikita

  “Headmistress,” Joel corrected. “Some stuff just sticks from the original British roots. So, I suppose you are living on campus for good then?”

  Asher nodded. “Yeah. Do some people commute?”

  “Some. Most stay. It’s safer when our parents or guardians are out on a mission. I mean where else would we go?” Joel shrugged. “What’s your first class?” He asked, as they hit the ground floor and the expansive lobby.

  Asher pulled a paper from his pocket. “Looks like some sort of PE class,” Asher said uncertainly. “HtH Combat?”

  “Hand-to-hand,” Joel explained. “That’s mine too. Come on. Breakfast first.” They went outside in the chill air. The simple blazer was not really much protection from the winter cold, and Asher regretted leaving his coat in his room. He hadn’t thought they would be going outside. He supposed he should have thought of that.

  “Bracing,” Joel said with a shiver and a grin. They went only to the next building across the cobbled walkway. Asher noted, like when he arrived, the cobbles had no snow on them. They were not just shoveled. They were not even wet from snow melt. It was like the sidewalk was experiencing a summer day while the rest of the ground was covered in snow. “My aunt showed me a way from the admin building to the dorms without going outside.” Asher commented.

  “Yeah. You can go that way,” said Joel. “But it’s on the other side of the building so it’s a much longer walk. If it’s really cold or raining most of us go that way though.”

  Asher nodded understanding. He looked back at the dorm building to keep his bearings. He wanted to be able to find his way without help.

  “Come on. I will introduce you to our group,” Joel said as he made a beeline to the next building. They entered the double doors to an expansive entrance hall.

  There was a scuffle ahead, and Joel quickened his pace. “Shit. Not again,” he muttered under his breath.

  Asher hurried to keep up with Joel. He stroud through the impressive arch of the main atrium. A plaque said: Sir Gawain Hall.

  In front of them, a somewhat overweight boy was sprawled on the marble floor. Three other students, obviously bullies, were laughing at his expense. Asher never stood for that sort of thing at his old school. He wasn’t going to stand for it here. He started forward, but Joel stepped in front of him, moving swiftly.

  “Get lost, Lacey,” he snapped at the smallest of the three boys.

  “Or what, Rosen?” the boy sneered. The other two bigger students moved up on either side of him.

  Asher moved along side of Joel in solidarity. Asher felt, rather than saw another boy move up on Joel’s other side. He was taller than Asher, with dark hair and skin the color of rich black coffee.

  “Or I will make sure you will fry every electronic you touch for the next year,” Joel snapped. “Your choice. Just walk away.”

  The fat boy sat on the ground brushing something from his clothing. He had splashes of something red on his white dress shirt. It looked suspiciously like blood, but that couldn’t be right, could it? Ketchup from an early breakfast?

  Lacey sniffed indignantly. “This isn’t over,” he said. Then looked directly at Asher. “And don’t think your aunt will save you, either.”

  Asher frowned. He didn’t even know this guy. Just what had he done to gain the boy’s instant dislike? He supposed just standing with Joel was enough.

  Lacey and his goons slithered away towards the dining hall.

  “You alright, Kenny?” Joel asked reaching a hand down to help the chubby boy climb awkwardly to his feet.

  “Yeah, fine.” Kenny said shamefacedly.

  “This is Asher Pendrick,” Joel said. He tossed a thumb towards Asher.

  “Pendrick?” said the tall black guy on the left. He gave Asher an appraising look with dark eyes.

  “Yeah,” Joel said. “He’s the headmistress’ nephew, but don’t hold it against him. He seems okay. Thanks for standing with us, man.”

  “Could you really fry his electronics for a year?” Asher asked.

  “Nah. Only what he had on him, but it’s a good threat, right?” Joel said.

  Asher nodded.

  The black guy held out his hand. “Dorren Yates,” he said in a soft English accent.

  Asher held out his hand to the other student. “Nice to meet you,” Asher said. “Are you from the UK,” he asked noting the accent.

  “Yeah. My Mum’s family is Irish, but not Fae, he corrected quickly. Dad was from Manchester, born and bred, until the Otherworlders got him. I’ve lived all over, but mostly in Manchester, until I was ten.”

  “How did you end up here?”

  “Just lucky I guess.”

  “Anything broken, Ken?” Dorren asked the boy who had just climbed awkwardly to his feet.

  “Nah. Just my pride.”

  “Dorren is our healer,” Joel said, continuing with the introductions. “He keeps us all safe.”

  The chubby kid was still trying to brush himself off. But nothing could fix the stain on his shirt.

  “The marshmallow with the red decoration is Kenny,” said Joel.

  “Hey!” Kenny said.

  “So what did you do to fall afoul of Corbin Lacey already this morning?” Joel asked Kenny.

  “Nothing,” Kenny protested. “He’s just a dick.”

  “Seems like,” Asher agreed, and Kenny threw him a grateful smile.

  “Lacey said I’d never get properly blooded, so he’d help me out.” Kenny gestured to the stains on his white shirt.

  “That’s not real blood, is it?” Asher asked with a frown.

  The others just shrugged.

  “Pig’s blood, I think. Peroxide will take it out,” Kenny said as if he was used to getting blood stains off of his clothes. “But I probably should go and clean it now.”

  “Breakfast first,” said Joel firmly. “You are going to need to change for PE anyway.” He turned back to Asher. “Ken, here is a genius when it comes to runes and languages,” Joel continued. “Strategy is his strong suit more than actual fighting. Ask him about anything ancient, but don’t expect him to do more than turn a computer on and off.”

  “Hey!” Kenny protested.

  “He’s not exactly from this century,” Joel smiled. “Technology scares him.”

  “Just because I’m not a geek like you…” Ken said, re-buttoning his blazer which covered most of the stains on his shirt.

  Joel pulled the chubby guy into a bear hug and rubbed his head mussing his shoulder length hair.

  “Let go!” Kenny howled in outrage. It was obvious that Kenny and Joel were good friends.

  Joel released him, grinning.

  “So you’re a legacy,” Kenny asked Asher, readjusting his stained shirt.

  “A what?” Asher asked.

  “A descendent of one of the Original Knights.”

  “Isn’t everyone?” Asher asked.

  “Oh, no.” Kenny shook his head vigorously. “Most of us are descended from those initiated into the Guardians after King Arthur’s death. I’m the Order of Gawain.” Kenny explained. “Joel is Lancelot. The Headmistress Pendragon is also the Order Lancelot, but she is said to be descended from Arthur himself, so I would guess you are too.”

  Asher shrugged sheepishly. Still confused by what all this meant. “Is it all Arthurian orders?”

  “Around here? Yeah, for the most part.” Joel answered, with a shrug. “A product of British colonization, I suppose. But other countries have their own orders and their own ways of dealing with what comes through the Gates.”

  Asher was still full of questions. “How do they pick which order you belong to if your parents are from different ones?”

  “Most often they do it traditionally.” Dorren replied. “Sons go to the father’s order and daughters to the mother’s. Or if one parent is a sentinel and the other is a knight, then if their children acquire offensive powers, they go to the order of their knight parent. If someone is found who has the gift and we don’t know th
eir origins, the Guardian Council will decide their order based on the manifestation of their power.”

  “What’s your order?” Asher asked Dorren.

  “Merlin.” He said proudly.

  Asher whistled appreciatively and Dorren smiled, flashing very even white teeth.

  12

  Welcome

  Asher followed Joel, Dorren and Kenny into the dining hall. It was a huge room filled with a number of round tables. The walls where lined with wood columns carved with magical beasts. Light shown through high arched windows, each bearing a stained-glass depiction at the top. Unlike most stained-glass windows Asher had seen before, the scenes were not religious in origin. Instead, the windows depicted various battle scenes. Some were quite gruesome. They cast the morning light in multi-colored designs across the many tables.

  Each of the tables had a carved relief on the pedestal that held it. Most were magical beasts like griffins and unicorns. The floor was polished white marble, and Asher had to think it took a lot to keep it clean. He wondered if he should have wiped his feet at the door, or maybe taken off his shoes. The thought reminded him of Sharon, and he paused looking at the student body. There was a crowd, although last night Galina had said the Legacies were few. Asher noticed there seemed to be a much larger spread of ages than at a normal high school.

  Joel marched right through the crowd to take a seat at one of the tables in the front of the room. Asher, along with Dorren and Kenny, followed him. The crowd parted for them, but some of them did not look too happy about it.

  Two girls were waiting at the table where Joel chose to sit. One was short and dark-haired and Asher recognized Galina from yesterday. The other was a tall redhead that he could only describe as a warrior.

  Asher pulled out a chair, but introductions had to wait because his aunt stood to begin morning announcements just as the group sat down.

  A hush fell over the hall.

  “For any of you who took a holiday away from school, welcome back. We are all glad to see you returned home safely to Whitehall,” Evelyn said.

  There was a bit of uneasy chuckling.

  “Although most of you know the risks, I must reiterate that visits to the Gate without proper supervision are absolutely forbidden. Even those of you who are fully inducted knights, should not go alone,” the headmistress warned. “This near to the Gate’s power, death is just a breath away. Do not be careless. We haven’t lost a student this term and I would hate to spoil the record.”

  There was a spattering of agreement, but Asher was horrified. A student had died here, less than a year ago?

  “Most accidents can be prevented by careful adherence to the rules. Which are…” Evelyn suddenly pointed to one of the students at a front table for the answer.

  “Remind me never to sit in the front row,” Asher muttered under his breath. They were already way too close to the front for his liking.

  Joel grinned at Asher. “It doesn’t matter,” he whispered.

  The student answered the Headmistress’ prompt. “Stay on school property and avoid the Gate unless it is a supervised mission.”

  Evelyn pointed to another student several tables back, and Asher understood what Joel meant by saying it didn’t matter if you sat in the front row or not.

  “Always travel in pairs or groups.” The second student responded.

  Another answered the Headmistress third gesture. “Have your talismans on your person at all times.”

  “If you have a blessed weapon don’t leave it in your room,” another student at a nearby table shamefacedly mumbled, and several people laughed.

  Asher’s aunt went on with her warnings. “The merits and demerits have been reset for a new semester, so those of you who did abysmally last semester can start fresh. But starting tomorrow,” she continued, “classes will begin one half hour earlier and end one half hour later to facilitate your continued training.”

  There were groans all around.

  A thin man sitting to his aunt’s right harrumphed and drew Asher’s attention. The first thing Asher noticed was the scar on the right side of the man’s face. He tried not to stare. What was most shocking, was that the man really didn’t look much older than Asher himself, maybe by a couple of years, but he was seated with the teachers.

  The man had an ethnic look about him. Maybe Native American, or something Middle-eastern. He was shorter than Asher with whipcord litheness. His straight dark hair was pulled back in a severe queue that trailed to the middle of his back. It threw his face into sharp relief and did nothing to hide the nasty scar that trailed from the corner of his right eye to nearly his chin.

  The man seemed to feel Asher’s stare upon him and turned to look directly at him. Asher immediately looked away, but the feeling of goose flesh crept up his arms. It was the most peculiar sensation. As if the man’s gaze carried physical weight. It gave Asher the creeps.

  “You have something you want to add, Merrick?” his aunt asked, turning to the odd young man.

  “I do,” he said standing. “This is for your own good,” he barked at the hall.

  “Do you think the Otherworlders will offer you demerits? They offer death or worse and not one of you is prepared to face it. Not. A. One.”

  “Such a pleasant man,” Galina whispered into her plate.

  “He shouldn’t even be here,” hissed the redheaded girl. Asher had to agree, although he didn’t know why he felt that way.

  The strange man sat back down at the teacher’s table and the hall buzzed with murmurs.

  The headmistress stood up again and clapped her hands for silence. The hall settled at once, and Evelyn spoke. “I have one final announcement before breakfast is served. We have a new student with us this term,” she said, and Asher felt his stomach drop as most of the student body turned to look at him. He slid down imperceptibly in his seat. “Rumors have already been rife, so I will confirm them for you. He is my nephew. Asher would you stand please?”

  “Did she have to tell everyone?” Asher muttered to no one in particular, as he stood in answer to his aunt’s request. He could feel his face heat as all eyes turned to him and he cursed his own fair complexion.

  “Asher Pendragon was raised in ignorance of his true lineage, but like all of you, he will quickly find his footing. Remember that even King Arthur began his journey without knowledge of his birthright. I expect you all to give Asher every respect, and help him find his place among us.”

  “Oh, dear Gawd.” Asher muttered, as he sank back into his chair. He wished he could sink directly into the ground.

  “I know you all will make him feel welcome,” his aunt finished. “Welcome home, Asher Pendragon.”

  She started to clap, and the student body obligingly joined her in applause. Asher’s face was practically burning with embarrassment.

  Asher thought, if he had any indication of magical power, he would have disappeared by now, apparated right the fuck out of here. But he changed his mind when he saw the food the servers brought out. Breakfast looked amazing. Eggs, toast, sausages and pancakes, were all piled high on serving dishes and everything was steaming hot. Real maple syrup, melted butter and honeyed ham, as well as fruit on platters. A moment later, another server brought an enormous tray of crispy bacon. Asher poured himself a coffee from the carafe and began to load his plate.

  “Don’t sweat it,” the redheaded girl next to him said, as she dug into her scrambled eggs. “The Headmistress does it to everyone. On my first day, she announced that I was picked up off the streets of Chicago, like I was homeless or something.”

  “Weren’t you?” Dorren asked with a quirked eyebrow. The redhead threw a potato at him. Dorren dodged and it hit Kenny.

  “Thanks,” Kenny said sourly. He picked the piece of potato off of his lapel just below the insignia. It left a small grease spot.

  “So introductions,” said Joel. “I guess now you all know this is Asher, the newest Pendragon.”

  “Pendrick,” Asher corre
cted. “My father went by Pendrick.”

  “All right then, Pendrick,” Joel continued, gesturing with a fork laden with a sausage to the small dark-haired girl. “This is Galina, but don’t let her size fool you into thinking she is helpless.”

  “Hi,” Asher said. “It’s nice to see you again.”

  Galina looked up quickly and grinned, showing tiny even teeth in her petite heart-shaped face. “Hi,” she said softly.

  “Do you to know each other?” Joel asked looking from one to the other.

  “We ran into each other last night,” Asher explained.

  “Galina is Order of Lancelot too,” Joel said, with his mouth full of sausage. “And she’s the only one of us that has a true knight talent. What was it again?” Joel asked.

  “Compulsion,” Galina mumbled looking at her plate.

  “Right,” Joel agreed.

  Asher nodded to Galina, but his attention was pulled to the girl beside her. The redhead had her sleeves rolled up to display a large phoenix tattoo wrapped around her forearm. The tail feathers interlaced over her fingers. The head was curled over her left bicep, which was considerable. Asher’s gaze traveled over her finally meeting her sharp green gaze. She was striking. He eyed her up appraisingly and when she caught him at it, she winked, completely unabashed.

  “This is Nicki,” Joel said smacking Asher in the arm and bringing him back to the present.

  “The homeless girl from Chicago,” Dorren added teasingly.

  “Fuck you, Dorren,” Nicki said good-naturedly. “Nicki Quinn,” she said holding out a hand to Asher. “Guinevere’s Order. But everyone calls me Phoenix. So, is the headmistress right? Your old man kept you in the dark?”

  “I guess so,” Asher said. “I’m still not sure what to expect here.”

  “None of us really do at first,” Phoenix said. She took another bite of egg and looked at him over her plate. “Do you have a talent?” she asked.

  “I really don’t know,” Asher stammered.

  She laughed. “You don’t know much do you, Asher Pendrick?” she said teasingly and suddenly he was reminded of Jules quoting Game of Thrones. He had always liked the mouthy red-head.