The Oblivion Trials (The Astral Wanderer Book 3)

by D'Artagnan Rey

  “Macha ended up coming with a team herself,” Wulfsun told him as he joined the boys at the window. “It’ll all be repaired in a couple of days. She works fast. But it is certainly a much bigger restoration work than she is used to.”

  “Sorry. I don’t know what happened there.” Devol pointed to the large marks. A couple of smiths were measuring them and one stuck his arm deep within to check the depth. “Was that me?”

  Vaust looked at Nauru and it seemed some kind of silent communication passed between the two of them for a moment. “Well, if we needed any more signs…” He chuckled before he stood and placed a hand on Asla’s shoulder to get her attention. “You said you saw Devol’s sword, correct?”

  “It looked like it, at least,” she confirmed and her ears twitched. “But it was so bright.”

  The mori nodded and folded his arms. “And you do not remember striking the beast, Devol?”

  The boy shook his head as he turned away from the window. “No. I only remember being inside a light and someone talking to me.”

  “Someone talking to you?” Vaust asked sharply and drew everyone’s attention to him again. “And who was that?”

  He sighed and shrugged as he walked carefully to a lounge chair in front of the desk. “I don’t know. I’m not sure who or even what they were, honestly. They were made of light but a different color I guess, and told me I had the right idea but was still wrong.”

  “The right idea about what?” Wulfsun asked and ran a hand through his disheveled mane of hair.

  Devol looked around and his gaze settled on his sword where it leaned against the bed. “Last night, I talked to my father to see if he had any idea how to control Achroma. He said the only clue Elijah had mentioned was that it does not obey the user but listens to their heart.”

  Vaust looked at the grand mistress, who nodded and walked to where the boy sat, knelt beside him, and looked him in the eye. “Is there anything else you remember this being saying?”

  He leaned his head back and tried to recall the details. “That I would get there. Then it said my name.”

  Nauru looked at the Templars who exchanged surprised glances that seemed to be oddly knowing at the same time.

  “Well then, Devol, you may have talked to your birth father himself,” Vaust said with a grin.

  “Huh?” the boy muttered, astonished, and looked at Nauru, who nodded in agreement.

  “In spirit or perhaps in magic, at least,” she agreed. “It would explain how this person knew you and Asla saw your blade fell Freki’s familiar. After all, who else would have a blade like yours—or, rather, its other half?”

  “It also explains the destruction.” Wulfsun chortled and looked at the arena again. “Elijah is a great swordsman with a deft hand, but he has been known to put a little vigor behind it when he’s trying to prove a point.”

  “It could have something to do with the connection,” Vaust reasoned. “I don’t think this was simple resonance or mental communication. Devol said he saw himself in a realm of light. It could have been a gateway—something to do with the bond between both sides of the blade.”

  “That seems awfully detailed for a guess,” Freki commented with a frown. “What makes you think that?”

  “Well, it is a guess—mostly,” Vaust replied and waved a hand nonchalantly. “However, I have heard stories of majestic-wielders hearing the voices and even seeing the figures of their past owners. While I have not had the pleasure to experience these phenomena, this could be something like that. It’s not like there have been many moments in time where two people wield what is essentially the same majestic.”

  “That could have been him?” Devol asked and his gaze drifted reflexively to the sword. “I kind of wish he had stuck around to tell me more about it. And maybe more about him too.”

  Nauru placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “What you experienced was rather unique, Devol. But it shows you are connected to him in some way.”

  “It might have been the first time he truly knew you had it, boyo,” Wulfsun interjected. “I have tried to get in touch with him since you arrived but have heard nothing from him as yet.”

  “We don’t even know where he is,” Vaust continued. “We sent messages to his normal lodgings in various realms in the hope that he comes across one.”

  “Whatever you did—even if it wasn’t exactly correct—it opened a brief gateway to him,” the grand mistress said softly. “I’m sure that will have caught his attention and you’ll see him someday.”

  Devol raised his head and managed a tiny smile. “Nah, it’s all right. I’ll find the answers I need.” He stood and stretched. “It’s not like me to sit around and wait for something or someone to come to me, especially not with the trials coming up.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Jazai snapped his fingers. “Have any of you received the signets yet?”

  Zier chided him. “You could be a little more grateful. I should have made you fetch them.”

  “But that means less time for you to torture me, so that would never have happened,” his apprentice retorted.

  The young swordsman walked to Wulfsun and Vaust. “Did you?”

  The mori smiled and opened his hand to display the signets. “Indeed I did.”

  “Thank you.” He took one and studied it curiously. “Dark in color with some winged creature on it like my father described.”

  “Your father?” Wulfsun asked. “The guard captain one, right? What does he know about the trials?”

  “He says he is aware of them.” He took the other two signets and passed them to Jazai and Asla. “He also said that magi have been mugged and many reported these signets missing.”

  “That is one way to get them,” Vaust commented and tipped his hat up. “It doesn’t matter if they are expecting you or not. As long as you have a signet, you can participate.”

  “One could say it is something of a pre-trial to the trials.” Zier nodded. “I remember having to deal with a ruffian or two on the way to my trial.”

  “My father most likely did too.” Jazai chuckled.

  The dryad narrowed his eyes. “We met at the trial location, although I’m sure you knew that and merely wanted a way to besmirch me.”

  The apprentice clicked his tongue. “I’m getting predictable.”

  “So this is all we need, then?” Devol asked and inspected the item again. “How do we find out where the trials start, though?”

  Vaust’s tiny smirk assumed a more devious slant and he walked slowly to Nauru’s desk. “Well, there are a couple of ways of doing that,” he began and propped himself against the desk as his eyes scrutinized the three of them. “There’s the normal way, which is to work it out yourself. That signet each of you holds is your only real clue for that.”

  The three friends looked at the items again, their expressions equally blank. “What is the other way?” Asla asked.

  “Simple. I’ll tell you,” the mori stated.

  “Do what?” Wulfsun gawked. “What is the point of all this if we’re simply going—”

  “Let me finish.” Vaust held a hand up. He lowered it slowly as he leaned closer to Devol. “I’ll tell you if you can defeat me.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Wait—you want us to fight you?” Jazai asked in bewilderment. Even the usually gung-ho Devol was taken aback. He had only seen Vaust in action on a few occasions. Those were fast but still enough for him to realize the gap between the two of them.

  “No, of course not. Well, not in the traditional sense anyway.” The mori looked around the room at the various reactions with clear amusement in his eyes. “I’m not asking for an all-out brawl, although that could be fun. I’m suggesting a challenge—you win and you get the location of the trials.”

  “This is an odd turnabout from you Vaust,” Zier noted. He slid his arms into his sleeves and frowned in displeasure. “You seemed as interested in having the young ones prove themselves as any of us. Now, you are giving them an out.”
>
  The mori’s head snapped to settle his gaze on the scholar. Devol could swear he could see the color of his eyes darken. “An out, you say, dryad?” he asked, his voice chill. “Are you suggesting that taking me on will be an easy task for them?”

  Zier straightened his back and pursed his lips. “You do not wish to fight them. From the sounds of it, you are giving them the chance to find the trials location through something no better than a simple game.”

  Vaust paused for a moment and his eyes cleared slightly. “A game? I suppose you are not too far off, but a game is not always simple fun.” He turned to Nauru’s desk, opened one of the drawers, and took out a small notebook and pen. Calmly, he found an empty page and ripped it out. “Here’s your challenge, young magi,” he said and faced away from them to write.

  A hand touched Devol’s shoulder and he turned quickly. Jazai. He seemed to be mouthing something to him, but he couldn’t discern the words. Was he trying to pass something along? He saw the apprentice’s hand tap something on his waist and when he realized what he intended, he nodded as Jazai walked behind Asla.

  The mori finished writing on the paper, folded it, and slipped it into his pants pocket as he turned to face them. “I have written down the location where the trials are to begin. If you are able to capture me or steal the parchment from me, you win and I will be satisfied.”

  “As in right now?” the swordsman asked and extended his hand to summon Achroma.

  Nauru narrowed her eyes at them. “I would very much appreciate it if you would not raise a ruckus in my room.”

  Devol grinned sheepishly. “Right. Sorry, Grand Mistress.”

  Vaust chuckled and pointed to the window behind him. “There are still several arenas left.”

  “Macha will probably be thrilled to hear there is more work to be done,” Wulfsun quipped.

  The mori shrugged. “The arenas are damaged almost every day and there are more than enough workers down there right now who can repair them.”

  The Templar captain sighed and scratched his head. “You can be the one to tell her, then.”

  Vaust nodded casually. “Very well, are you ready to begin or change your mind, or do you have any questions?”

  “Several questions,” Devol responded.

  “Oh?” Everyone turned to the young magi. “Seriously?” The mori sounded surprised. “What has piqued your curiosity, boy?”

  He rested Achroma across his shoulders. “Well, for starters, you haven’t answered anyone as to why you decided to make this offer.”

  “I would have thought it would occur to one of you by now.” Vaust sighed and looked around the room with the beginnings of disinterest. “This is merely an alternative by which you can find it yourselves. You can think of it as more training.”

  “I suppose that leads to the next question.” Devol walked past him and caught his attention as he wandered to the window. “Is it simple training? I am grateful to you, Vaust. You helped me to get here in the first place and defended us during our first mission. However, you have not been one of those who focused on our training. That usually fell to Wulfsun, Zier, and Freki.”

  The mori frowned slightly. “True enough. That is their responsibility after all,” he pointed out. “Although I had my reservations about it, I backed this plan to have the three of you attend the trials. I want to believe you are all ready, but it is still a gamble. Wulfsun was the youngest among us to complete his trial but he was still a few years older than you three are now.”

  “Only because my master had misgivings and said I was too much of a hothead for years,” the captain muttered. The boy was amused by the childish annoyance that tinged his voice.

  “So this is your way of making sure?” he asked and turned to face him. “Or is this merely a tactic to delay us?”

  Vaust raised an eyebrow and Freki stood behind him with a joyful grin. “He is certainly the most mysterious of us all but he does have a good heart deep down, I think.”

  “Heel, dog-boy,” the mori muttered and looked briefly over his shoulder as the wildkin’s grin disappeared and a frown took its place.

  “That seemed unwarranted,” Freki whispered but received only a sympathetic shrug from Zier.

  Vaust returned his gaze to Devol and folded his arms. “I’m curious why you seem so doubtful. This is coming across as more an interrogation than a few simple questions.”

  “Well, as Freki said, you are the mysterious one,” the boy pointed out slyly and looked at the signet in his hand. “You made the offer but none of us have any reason to believe you know where the location is. I have to wonder if this is simply a tactic to prove we are not ready.”

  “There are more personal ways of doing that,” the Templar warned and a trace of the earlier chill tinged his voice. “So you doubt my information. You are aware I am one of the best at reconnaissance in the Order, correct?”

  “Also assassination, yes, but so is Freki,” Devol pointed out and smiled when he saw Vaust’s eye twitch. “So I assume they told you where the location was when you got the signets?”

  “Of course not,” Vaust replied and shook his head. “That’s not how it works for the trials.”

  “Then how do you know where they are being held?” Devol asked and held the signet up. “Only with this?”

  The Templar nodded. “Correct. I could peg it as soon as I saw the emblem on it,”

  “Is that so?” he asked and looked at the signet again. “Well, I still haven’t the foggiest idea of what it is supposed to mean. I guess we had better move on.”

  “So have you made a decision, then?” Vaust asked and relaxed against the desk again. “And you have no more questions?”

  “Only one,” the boy replied and folded his arms. “Do you know where the location is?”

  A fang slipped out from under the mori’s top lip and pressed into the bottom one. “We went over this—”

  “Oh, my apologies. That wasn’t for you, Mr. Lebatt,” he stated, his tone suddenly a little more jovial. “That was a question for Jazai.”

  Vaust’s eyes widened slightly. “Jazai?”

  “Yeah, I got it,” the apprentice replied and walked out from behind Asla with his tome in his hands. “Or a rough location, at least. It’s being held in a place called Sombra Caverns. I don’t know the exact position, but given what I’m reading, neither does he at the moment.”

  “Wait,” Zier muttered as he looked from one boy to the other and back again. “So you were probing his mind while Devol was—”

  “Talking to him, yeah.” The diviner shut his book and grinned. “I’m glad he got more specific with his questions toward the end, though. Even with his anima on low, Vaust’s mind wasn’t exactly easy to crack. It seemed being called out irritated him a tad.”

  Everyone in the room turned to look at the mori with either surprise or wide grins on their faces. He frowned for a moment before he turned to Devol. “Was this your doing?”

  “Well, the talking part was,” the boy said and laughed. “But it was Jazai’s plan.”

  “It was a good thing you caught on quickly. I was worried about tipping him off,” the diviner added and shook his book at his teacher. “Like you said, Zier, I need to put this to more use.” His smile widened in triumph. “And I do agree with you some of the time.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Right, so this is what I have,” Jazai declared as he spread a large map on the dining hall table the three shared as his two friends returned from the serving counter, Devol holding both his and the apprentice’s meal. “Also, we probably need to hurry because Zier doesn’t know I took this from the library.”

  “I believe that anyone in the Order can borrow books and maps from the library with no worries, Jazai,” Asla pointed out as she sat with her bowl of fish and rice.

  The diviner knowingly glanced at her. “Oh, he’ll find something to bitch about.”

  The swordsman sighed as he placed his meal down and passed the other boy his. �
��Seriously, my friend. Once this is all over, you need to have a heart-to-heart with him or something and move past this. You are starting to sound less like you are joking and more along the lines of paranoia.”

  “Humph. It’s hard to have a heart-to-heart when one of us doesn’t have a heart.” The apprentice paused for a moment and looked at his friends’ surprised faces. “Okay, maybe that was a little overboard.”

  “What has been going on between the two of you?”

  Jazai shrugged, pulled his chair out, and sat. “I don’t know. He’s been grumpier and more controlling recently. It’s not like he was ever calm and relaxed, but a switch seems to have flipped and he now makes me follow every rule to the letter.”

  “Isn’t that how it goes in any guild?” Devol asked and speared a piece of steak with his fork.

  “Within reason.” The diviner leaned forward to stare at the map. “But now, he double-checks my clothing, makes sure my rings are always cleaned, constantly asks me about my training—”

  “It sounds like he’s concerned,” Asla interjected and picked her cup of grape juice up.

  Jazai raised an eyebrow and looked around briefly. “Concerned? Hmm…you know, I’ve heard theories that there could be alternate realities of the same realm where the same people exist but act the opposite of what is normal. But it is all purely speculative at this point.”

  “It makes sense to give him the benefit of the possibility I raised,” she muttered and placed the cup down after a quick sip. “The way you describe him is how Freki usually dotes on me. Although it can be irritable, I know he means well. It could be that with us heading into the trials, he is more concerned about your safety than usual.”

  The apprentice sighed and frowned slightly. He looked at the other boy. “What about Wulfsun? Is he freaking out about you at all?”