Mercy's Trial

by Sever Bronny

Thou shall never break thy word.

  Thou shall serve thy lord and king and kingdom with valor and courage and an open heart.

  But thou shall also root out corruption in all its forms, and the sanctity of the truth shall vanquish any title.

  Thou shall swear fealty to this code of honor, for it is the war ye are locked in from this moment on.

  The moment they completed the recitation, the scrambled rune reformed itself right on the page into the full Arcaner crest, including the dragon and the three dots in triangular formation around the crest. Then the crest jumped out from the page with a splash of light, making them gasp and scuttle back a few steps. It expanded into a vault made up of three identical side-by-side Arcaner shield crests, albeit ones with the three triangulated dots around them. The vault was barrel-sized in height, as wide as a triple bookshelf and made of bright, ghostly light. The three crests were dark, perhaps indicating that there were no living Arcaner secret-keepers, which must be what Chauncey had referred to in the letter.

  Augum smiled at Bridget and Leera before they summoned their shields and stepped forward to press them into the dark crests, which instantly lit up with a bright golden glow that traveled to their shields and enveloped their bodies before fading out. The trio removed their shields from the still-lit panel. Each crest now shone with a golden motto, a golden castle, and three golden dots. The perching dragons, however, remained dark. The trio each glanced down over the lip of their shield but found the same golden castle above the words Semperis vorto honos. Nothing had changed—until Leera happened to turn around.

  “Uh …” She fumbled at their robes in an effort to get them to turn around as well. “Look …”

  “Alianos,” said an ethereal feminine voice just as Augum and Bridget whipped about.

  Standing before them were four ghostly figures whom Augum recognized as Dragoon Pelagia, the attendant of the Arcaner course; Trintus Bladeofbright, the most famous Arcaner to have ever lived; Atrius Arinthian, Augum’s ancestor; and Rebecca Von Edgeworth, Katrina Von Edgeworth’s ancestor.

  Pelagia stood slightly apart from the others, wearing her usual amber robe, aquamarine eyes glistening in ghostly fashion, a floral garland resting on her golden hair. The three ancient Arcaner warlocks stood side by side, dressed in stunning opalescent white robes and ceremonial sashes that went across their chests. Each sash looked to be made of pristine white silk and was embroidered with the Arcaner crest, once again surrounded by three triangulated dots.

  “Semperis vorto honos,” Pelagia said in the old tongue. “Mio nominos io Dragoon Pelagia. Arcan linguino?”

  “Commona languino Solianos, Dragoon Pelagia,” Bridget replied with a beaming smile.

  Pelagia nodded and disappeared, her duty apparently discharged.

  Rebecca pressed her fingertips together. “Seasons come and go, generations wax and wane like the moon, yet the order continues to live on through you, Arcaners, for you have chosen—or have been chosen by those in the winter of their lives—to become the secret-keepers of our ancient order. It is a burden unlike any other as you shall shoulder knowledge that has the potential to do great harm should it fall into the wrong hands. By accepting this burden, you hereby take on two sacred duties. The first is to memorize what we tell you. The second is to ensure that there are always three secret-keepers alive with this knowledge. Should any of you perish, it is imperative that a new secret-keeper take their place.”

  Trintus, hair burning, ebony skin a nightly contrast against the silent flames, took a turn next. “Should all three secret-keepers perish, the order has seen to crafting a series of kargeyasnara ciphera runes, which we have hidden in various items and locations of import to Arcaners. These runes, which can only be solved by Arcaners with undimmed shields, grant the power to appoint a new secret-keeper. Occasionally one of these runic objects may be destroyed. It is your task to replace it, leaving clues only Arcaners would understand, ensuring access to the vault is preserved, and ensuring the survival of the knowledge contained within.”

  Exactly what Chauncey did by manipulating the Arcaner course, Augum realized. He had been performing his final duty for the order.

  Trintus gracefully opened a hand. “These runes give you access to a shared vault with three doors, which you now see behind you.”

  The trio turned around and, sure enough, found a small golden handle on the edge of each of their lit shield crests.

  “Listen to what we have to say before you open the vault, Arcaners,” Trintus went on, and Augum dropped his wandering hand, for he was about to do just that. “These runes must be tied together arcanely in a specific manner, one that ensures that the vault is linked to all of the runes. The instructions on how to do this can be found within the vault, along with other instructions, some of which may have been added by future Arcaners. Of course, you are invited to add to this wealth of knowledge.”

  Atrius Arinthian spoke next. “This vault has been crafted to keep our most sacred secrets and to ensure that the order can be rebuilt in the event of its destruction.”

  As his ancestor spoke, Augum’s heart gave a pang full of longing, for he wished the man were flesh and blood and could recognize him as his descendant. Part of him even secretly—and absurdly—wished the man were his father.

  “For the sake of future generations, part of your responsibility will be to ensure this knowledge is current and as complete as possible. You may use this vault any time, for it can now be summoned by raising your shield and uttering the phrase Summano vaultus Arcanus. To make it disappear, simply say vaultus null.”

  The trio exchanged wild looks of excitement, instantly understanding the usefulness of having a traveling room to store stuff in—

  “But know that it is enchanted so that only documents may be hidden within and nothing else. No metal, wood or stone is allowed, only certain forms of parchment, leather and ink.”

  Augum’s vision of having a portable armory—heck, even a hiding place—vanished like a puff of smoke.

  Rebecca Von Edgeworth’s turn came next. “And now we impart the most important of secrets, one that you must guard with your lives. A secret that you must ensure is preserved when your time on Sithesia comes to an end. A long time ago, during an age of war and slavery, Sithesia came up against a great threat. A people known as the Rivicans, an engineering people who made great cities underground, married arcane Dreadnought forging with their own knowledge. They crafted three great siege engine dragons, naming them after their God of Torment, Goddess of Pestilence, and God of War. These siege engines allowed them to take over and enslave all of Sithesia. In order to defeat these powerful siege engines, our order undertook a sacred quest, one that, if successful, would allow the order to summon beasts only heard in myth—beasts known as dragons.”

  Augum felt a small flush of pride, for he had stubbornly believed in the existence of dragons despite everyone else thinking he had lost his mind.

  “Although the quest was arduous and costly in terms of lives, our order was successful and brought back to Sithesia the ability to summon dragons. Although only a precious few could do this, they combined their strength with strategic warfare and brought down two of the three siege engines. But the third one had been buried in a secret location, marked on the documents in the vault.”

  And then it was Trintus Bladeofbright’s turn once more. “Peace reigned for a time, a peace that was eventually shattered when one of our own betrayed the ethos of the order and used the dragons to cause apocalyptic destruction. This too is detailed in the documents. After the uprising had been quelled, our order deemed the knowledge to summon dragons too dangerous for Sithesia. Thus, we made the knowledge sacred, to be used only in an emergency. Should that emergency ever come, meaning should the final engine be brought back to life—or some other great catastrophe befall Sithesia—the knowledge to bring back the dragons may need to be rediscovered. We have hidden this knowledge where we deemed it safest—in the ancient Library of Ley. T
o get there, you must use an inter-planar portal, a complex piece of arcanery. But these inter-planar portals have always been fought over and are often destroyed.”

  Atrius resumed where Trintus had left off. “As such, our order commissioned a ritual spell that may take you and a select few to Ley. This ritual had to follow the Leyan karmic laws of balance, which meant that it had to be crafted by a being of a certain temperament. As such, the ritual comes with a cost you will have to accept in order to succeed.” Atrius indicated the vault with an open palm. “The instructions to the ritual should be found inside the vault. Be wary, Arcaner, for this vault is susceptible when open—as any vault is. Share it with no one but fellow secret-keepers. Use it sparingly and wisely, for the knowledge contained within may one day save not only your kingdom, but all of Sithesia.”

  “You are hereby charged with securing the future of the order and keeping its secrets,” Rebecca said. “May you live long and in times of peace.”

  The three legendary Arcaners inclined their heads, chorusing, “Semperis vorto honos.”

  “Semperis vorto honos,” the trio replied, and the three Arcaners disappeared, leaving the vault floating in place.

  The trio took a deep breath, turned around, and each pulled on the handle of their glowing shield, revealing a shared space of only three shelves absolutely stuffed to bursting with books and flattened scrolls and parchments. In fact, several pieces of parchment filled with tiny scrawl fell out.

  Leera picked them up, examining one. “Huh, seems to be the rules to an Arcaner jousting tournament.”

  Bridget placed her hands on her hips. “Well, we’re going to have to search through it.”

  Leera groaned. “All of it?”

  “Every last bit until we find that ritual.”

  * * *

  “Found it!” Leera exclaimed, wildly waving a scroll about in the air.

  The trio sat amongst a large pile of strewn parchments. The Arcaner vault floated above them, its three crest-shield doors open like hungry mouths. Most of what they had come across thus far dealt with various Arcaner traditions, historical notes, death notices of notable Arcaners, and so on. All in all, it had been rather underwhelming material thus far. To entertain herself, Leera had tried stuffing non-parchment objects into the vault, only to be disappointed when they came up against an invisible wall. “Pfft, vault. Should be called a portable document cabinet or something,” she had muttered. Some recipes and pilgrimage rituals were thrown in too, but they’d only gotten through a small fraction of the ephemera before Leera stumbled across a scroll with an instructional note.

  “Would you like to do the honors, Dragoon Stone?” Leera asked, ceremoniously presenting the scroll, made of coal-black parchment and wrapped with a crimson ribbon bearing an instructional note.

  “Thank you, Dragoon Jones.” Augum accepted the scroll with cold hands, for he knew it represented a witch ritual that could see him arcastrated, or at the very least suffer a shield dim. But if it did turn out to be arcastration, he hoped his great-grandmother knew of some Leyan way to reverse it.

  He read the attached note aloud. “ ‘A Ritual of Last Resort for Arcaner Travel to the Plane of Ley.’ ” Then he frowned. “Hmm. ‘Hark! Warneth thou art upon—’ ” He switched to murmuring under his breath as he began skimming the note, each line increasing his uneasiness.

  “What is it, Aug?” Leera asked. “Hello? Fellow Arcaner secret-keeper and girlfriend checking in here. Report, please.”

  “Hmm?” He hadn’t realized he had stood to pace. “Just getting to the ingredients list now.”

  “Well, spill it already.”

  But Augum’s blood had curdled upon reading those ingredients. He stopped pacing to look up. “I, uh … I think everyone needs to hear this.”

  The girls exchanged fearful looks but did not protest. The three of them then crammed every last scrap back into the vault.

  “Vaultus null,” Bridget said at the end, and the vault disappeared.

  They returned to their friends and apprised them of the find while Herzog’s quill scribbled furiously.

  “But if you found a way to get us into Ley,” Mary said, “then why do you sound so sad, Augum?”

  “The ingredients to the ritual are …”

  “Are what?” Maxine pressed.

  He slapped the old parchment with the back of his hand as he rattled them off. “ ‘A bar of gold weighteth no less nor more than two stone, a chunk of moonstone weighteth no less nor more than two stone’—”

  “That’s the old measurement system from Pre Founding times,” Klines explained after noticing some of the lost faces.

  “—‘the beak of a freshly caught spearfin squid, a dab of black nettle poison, an unpaid-for cup of mead, a black soul amulet, one piece of Dreadnought equipment’—”

  “Oh dear,” Bridget murmured.

  “—‘the true bone of a dragon’—”

  Maxine snorted. “Oh, that should be easy.”

  “—‘the freshly killed body of an enemy’—” Augum froze before reading the next line.

  “What is it?” Mary whispered. “What is the next ingredient?”

  Augum swallowed. “… ‘and the freshly killed body of a friend.’ ”

  Match of Might

  The silence that followed was as thick as molasses.

  “I’ll be the one,” Maxine suddenly blurted, staring at nothing in particular. As everyone stirred, she settled her gaze on Augum. “I’ll do it.”

  Augum stepped before her. “You don’t know what you’re—”

  “Damn right I do!” she roared, glaring at him. “Damn right I do—my duty for the kingdom. My duty.”

  For a moment they only stared at each other, her with iron resolve, him with gaping disbelief.

  Augum glanced around at his friends, at a loss, and realized they were looking to him for leadership. He looked back at Maxine, whose face held no trace of fear. He couldn’t help admiring her bravery.

  “You do realize that the only way it would work—” He referenced the note attached to the ritual scroll again before matching her gaze. “—is if we are friends.”

  Maxine only stiffened. “I … I …”

  “You’ve never had a friend, have you?” Leera asked softly.

  “I … uh …” Maxine looked trapped and lost.

  Augum rubbed his forehead. “If this isn’t the strangest thing …” Here was this brave young woman, a terrible leader and shameless jerk, offering to sacrifice herself for the good of the kingdom—for the good of all the kingdoms—and yet the only way for her to do it was to achieve something she had never dared to … become someone’s friend.

  “If this isn’t the strangest thing,” Augum repeated, shaking his head.

  “You don’t have to do it,” Bridget reminded Maxine.

  “No? Then which of you is willing to take my place? You?” She waited, arms crossed. “How about you, Salt Pouch?”

  Arthur squirmed and dropped his gaze.

  “What about you, Okeke? No? Hroljassen? Tennyson? Slimwealth? Hmm?” She scoffed when she looked at Leera, not even bothering to ask her. “Exactly. I’ll be the one because none of you have the guts. Not a one. Besides …” She sighed, shoulders slumping. “It’s my destiny. It’s always been my destiny. It’s the only good I’ll ever be able to do in my life.”

  There was a long silence during which no one met her gaze.

  “You make it really hard to sympathize with you,” Leera finally said, walking up to Maxine. “But if friendship is what you require, and you’re sure you want to do this …” Leera gave Maxine a genuine smile and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Then we’ll just have to teach you what friendship means, won’t we?”

  Maxine breathed as quick as a squirrel and kept glancing between the hand and Leera as if unsure what to make of the situation.

  “I know it won’t be easy,” Leera said, “but we’ll do our best.” She let go and Maxine breathed a little easier.
>
  Bridget strode up to Maxine and extended her hand. “I admire your courage and pledge to help in whatever way I can.”

  Maxine looked down at her hand as if it were diseased. Reluctantly, she took it and the pair shook—albeit briefly. Then, one by one, the other academy students stepped up to her, each promising to support her in whatever way they could. By the end of it, tears were streaming down Maxine’s face. And she wasn’t the only one—Mr. Goss, many of the girls, even Olaf and Secretary Klines and Esha had wet faces.

  Leera wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. “You’re an ugly crier though.”

  Maxine cry-snorted. “Shut up,” and turned away from them, awkwardly wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand, as if she’d never done it before. “Ain’t never been so much of a dang fool,” she muttered, her country roots slipping back in with a twang.

  “And who knows,” Augum said, “maybe we can get around that sacrifice requirement somehow.”

  She scoffed. “What, and take my glory from me? Don’t you even think about it.”

  The others chuckled, but she whirled on them. “What y’all laughing at? I’m serious.”

  Bridget gave her a kind smile. “We know.”

  Augum checked the parchment note and looked at Esha. “Excuse me, Ancient One, but do you know where the Cairn Stones of the Midnight Moon are? Seems to be the location of the ritual.”

  “I do indeed,” the lioness replied in the barest of whispers. She stood watching with a tilted head and misty eyes, giving Augum the impression that she was perhaps seeing history replaying itself before her one last time. “They are located on Moonhook Isle in the Dragon Sea.”

  “Anyone been there before?” Augum asked, glancing around. They might as well put one of those Group Teleport scrolls to good use. “Anyone?”

  “We have,” Bridget replied. “Arcaner training with Atrius, remember?”

  “Oh, right. But that could have been an illusion.”

  “Which would waste a Group Teleport scroll.”

  “I can teleport you near Crimson Tooth, if you like,” Klines said. “From there you should have little trouble commissioning passage to the island.”