Element Wielder (The Void Wielder Trilogy Book 1) (2 page)

BOOK: Element Wielder (The Void Wielder Trilogy Book 1)
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Albert accepted the scroll. “Thank you.” The messenger bowed and retreated back into the darkness. Albert untied the glossy blue ribbon that kept the scroll in place and unrolled the parchment.

“What do they want?” asked Falcon, jumping around his brother. “I bet they want you for a special mission. Or…or…um they want to offer you a position as a member of the royal wielders. Yes, I’m sure that’s it. It’s about time, you’re better than any of the wielders they have now.”

“Relax, Falcon.”

“Can I see what it says? I’m right, aren’t I?”

Albert took a seat besides a large pine tree. Falcon looked over Albert’s shoulder, eager to read the scroll’s contents. It read:

 

To One Albert Hyatt,

You are ordered to appear

before the honorable high council of Ladria.

 

Falcon shot a puzzled look at his brother.

Albert shrugged.

“Didn’t that messenger say the scroll would explain
everything
?” said Falcon, trying his best to imitate the high-pitched voice of the messenger. “This sure doesn’t explain much.”

Albert gathered a stack of swords. “I suppose I’d better go see what they want. I’ll drop you off at home first.”

“Why? Let me go with you, please.”

“No. Just help me pick up the weapons.”

Falcon let out a disappointed sigh as he gathered the remaining swords, daggers, and staffs. He then followed his brother down the dirt path. Usually Albert would talk the entire way home, but not this time. Despite his calm demeanor, Falcon was certain the message had rattled Albert.
Could there be something he knows that I don’t?
He didn’t ask. His brother was the strongest person he knew. Whatever was going on, he was sure he could handle it.

After a few minutes, they arrived at their home, a run-down wooden cabin with a chimney that hadn’t worked in ages. The door handle dangled, and the walls were full of termite holes.

Albert opened the door. “Go inside and don’t leave. I will be back shortly.” Falcon wrapped Albert in a hug. Despite the cold weather, his brother’s body radiated warmth. “Don’t worry. I won’t leave you alone for long.”

Falcon rushed into the cabin. The floor squeaked loudly as he ran to the window. He caught a glimpse of his brother as he disappeared into the thick fog. An eerie sensation drifted in the air, and his skin goose bumped in a thousand places. His head told him something was wrong. He quickly dismissed the thought, convinced his riled imagination was toying with him.

~ ~ ~

Albert strode into the nearly empty grand hall where the five council members sat. The men relaxed on cushioned throne-like chairs high up in an arc.

“Welcome, Mr. Hyatt,” greeted an old man who sat at the center. “I am the head of the Ladria council, councilman Masters.”

“Greetings, councilmen. How may I be of service?” asked Albert, doing his best to not breathe in the thick aroma of lavender incense.

“We have summoned you because we have an issue of grave importance to discuss with you, something that may change the fate of Ladria, as well as Planet Va’siel, forever.” The councilman flashed a crooked smile. “You must promise not to divulge this to anyone.”

Albert cleared his throat. “I won’t, sir.”

Councilman Masters smiled as he rubbed his white goatee. “Good, good.” He placed his hand on the council member beside him. “Councilman Rohan, if you please.”

“We’ve been observing you for quite some time now, Mr. Albert Hyatt,” began councilman Rohan. He was a short man with countless scars etched across his face. “Grand champion of the royal tournaments since you were twelve years of age, owner of all the trial, tactics, and strategy records at the royal academy, undefeated in battle, with the highest academic grades, and not once injured in a duel. Only the legendary Golden Wielder can match those feats.”

Albert grimaced
. Did they really summon me for a pat on the back?
“I’m sorry, councilmen, but what is the point of this meeting?”

Councilman Masters rose from his seat. “
The purpose
, Mr. Hyatt, is that you’re the kind of person we need to put our plan into action. A plan that will benefit Ladria for centuries to come.” He licked his dry lips. “You want to do what is best for the Ladria, don’t you?”

Albert’s skin crawled as his eyes and councilman Masters’ met. “Of course.”

“Then listen well, tomorrow….”

Albert stared at the dark patterned floor, not wanting to believe what the councilman was telling him.

“What say you?” barked councilman Masters.

Albert remained quiet. His chest tightened as he realized what needed to be done.

The old council member leaned forward in his chair, his frail frame shaking. He ground his large yellow teeth. “What say you…Aaaargh.”

Albert’s spear drove through the Masters’ chest.

The remaining men gasped as they attempted to get off their chairs. A gust of wind blew the four men into the wall and pinned them in place. Their mouths opened, but no sound came out. The strong wind made it impossible for them to even breathe.

Albert pulled out his spear from councilman Masters’ chest and turned his attention to his remaining targets. One by one, he rammed his spear through their hearts.

Albert sighed.
Good, no witnesses.

The councilmen’s lifeless bodies lay atop each other in a mangled heap, surrounded by a pool of blood, as Albert calmly strolled out of the chambers.

CHAPTER 2

 

 

 

Falcon stayed up all night awaiting his brother’s return. Unable to sleep, he paced the small cabin for hours. Every sound made him jump toward the window in hopes he would see his brother, but every time he was met with disappointment.

Where is Albert? He should have been home by now.

A loud knock at the door caused him to nearly jump out of his skin. He stumbled over an old flower pot as he rushed to the door. He flung the door open. “Albert! Where have you—”

Two members of the Ladria high guard stood at the door. They wore matching crimson uniforms with streaks of white on their breastplates.

“Ah…can I help you?” asked Falcon, his hands shaking.
What is the high guard doing here?

“Albert Hyatt. Where is he?” demanded the eldest guard.

“What do you want with him?”

The guard eyed him with suspicion as he stroked his long white mustache. “Albert Hyatt murdered the Ladria council last night and fled the scene. We are here to apprehend him….”

Falcon’s heart raced. It has to be a mistake.
Albert wouldn’t do such a thing.
He shook his head in denial. “No, no, no, this is all wrong.”

“Hey, kid!” snapped the guard. “I’m in no mood for games. We know he lives here. Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” answered Falcon, wiping his sweaty hands on his shirt.

“We don’t believe you, you little runt. Tell us where he is!”

The second, much younger, guard joined in on the accusations. “He is here, isn’t he? You’re hiding him.”

Falcon trembled, but remained quiet. He didn’t know what to say. It was obvious the guards wouldn’t believe him no matter what he told them.

The young guard pushed Falcon to the floor and stomped into the cabin. He took a quick glance around and frowned. “He’s not here. This cabin has just one room. Albert has nowhere to hide.”

The old guard glared down at Falcon. “I will ask one last time. Where is he?”

Falcon wiped the sweat from his brow. “I don’t know.”

“Fine, have it your way.” The young guard stormed out and slammed the door. The old window by the entrance broke into a dozen pieces.

They spoke loudly as they marched off. He made out two words—mind wielder.

Falcon stood transfixed, unable to move or even breathe as the horror of it crept over him.

“A mind wielder.” He recalled the horrible stories he’d heard of mind wielders. Stories that detailed how they manipulated people’s minds to extract information, creating horrible visions that drove their victims into insanity.

He shoved the thought aside. He needed to compose himself and figure out what to do next.

Of one thing he was certain: Albert was no traitor. He had to find him and figure out what really happened. The last place his brother was seen was at the council chambers so that’s where he would begin his search.

The air smelled of honeyed flowers, and clouds lingered in the blue sky as Falcon hurried out of the cabin. He wasn’t sure if leaving was a good idea, but anything was better than waiting for a mind wielder to show up at his doorstep.

He raced down the winding dirt path toward the town square, zigzagging through rows of women carrying basket loads of dirty clothes atop their heads.

Falcon’s cabin sat on the outskirts of the city, far from the council chambers. At his current pace it would take him too long to traverse the large city. He straightened himself and picked up his stride.

He ran past dozens of vendors who were beginning to set up their stalls on the side of the road. 

“Hey, watch where you’re going, kid,” yelled a merchant as Falcon bumped into his bread cart, sending dozens of sweet smelling rolls flying through the air. A rush of guilt washed over him as the bread rolls hit the ground.

Falcon turned the corner and dashed past the grand library. The dirt under his feet became stone. He finally had entered the heart of the city.  

Unlike the roads on the outskirts, which consisted of hard dirt, the center of Ladria was paved with white stone. Even the homes here were made entirely of fine wood, or polished stone.

Falcon’s breathing grew heavy as he sprinted past the luxurious homes. He ran between thousands of noblewomen out on their morning walks, past hundreds of shops, and dozens of beggars, before he finally arrived at the city square.

The council chambers weren’t hard to miss. They were within an extravagant palace made of marble that rested atop a slab of concrete. Like silent guardians, silver gargoyle statues stood atop the palace.

A large crowd stood outside the palace. He moved in, wondering what could be so important. The closer he got, the more he realized something was wrong.

Some of the children lay on the ground sobbing. Women cried as they embraced each other.

Falcon pushed and shoved through the crowd until he reached the front. He watched, horrified, as medics emerged from the council carrying five wooden stretchers. On each of the stretchers lay a body covered with a red stained sheet.

The coroner, a tall, skinny man who wore black clothing from head to toe, supervised the guards as they placed the corpses in the carriages.

Once they were loaded, the carriages, pulled by black horses, slowly wheeled away. A large cloud that crept through the sky now covered the sun that had been shining minutes ago. Falcon stood frozen under the dark shadow. Time passed in slow motion. It was true. The council members were dead.

The people around him mumbled to one another.

“Did you hear? It was young Albert Hyatt who murdered the council.”

“Albert Hyatt is a traitor.”

“He went mad.”

“Yes, Albert killed the council members in an attempt to seize power.”

“No doubt he will go after the emperor next.”

“He must be stopped.”

Their venomous words pierced Falcon deeper than any weapon ever could have. No longer able to listen to their words, he put his hands over his ears and hurried into an empty alleyway. He dropped to the ground on all fours, his body shaking with a combination of anger and fear.

He remained there for what seemed an eternity. Not until the yellow moon appeared from behind the clouds did Falcon finally realize what needed to be done.

His brother never gave up on him. Now it was his turn to do the same. He stood up.
No more hiding. I must find him.

His resolve came to a sudden halt when a hard object slammed the back of his head. His eyesight faltered. Everything around him became a swirl of indistinguishable figures.

CHAPTER 3

 

 

 

What happened? What hit me?
The questions rushed to Falcon’s aching head. A cold wind beat against his skin, causing his teeth to chatter as he struggled to regain his vision.

He examined his surroundings. His eyes were still adjusting, but he managed to make out blurred figures from the corner of his eye. He opened and closed his eyes, attempting to regain focus.

Falcon counted four, no, five of them; they appeared to be around fifteen or sixteen years of age. They all wore black pants with bright yellow tunics. One of them, a skinny boy with no hair on his pea-sized head, noticed Falcon and pointed an accusing finger at him. Then they all stood and moved toward him.

“The bloke lives!” yelled one of them in a sarcastic tone. “Who would have thought a little rock would weaken him for so bloody long.”

The boy reminded Falcon of an oversized ape, with his huge nose and wild, untamed brown hair. He doubted it ever had been combed. His fat, red cheeks complemented his large lips.

Falcon’s teeth clenched. “Are you all in the habit of attacking people from behind like cowards?”

“Who do you think you’re calling a coward, traitor? I suppose we’re going to have to teach this insolent bloke a lesson, boys.” Like a pack of wolves, they surrounded him.

“Do I know you?” said Falcon, astounded by the ape-kid’s remarks.

The ape-kid opened his mouth. Falcon couldn’t tell if he was genuinely surprised or if he was mocking him.

“Oh, you poor, sad bloke. Haven’t you heard? Your idiot brother killed the high council. Including the council leader, my grandfather.” A large grin overtook his face. “True, I never cared for the old geezer, but hey, any excuse to beat up a traitorous peasant is good enough for me.”

“How do you even know Albert is my brother? You could be confusing me with some—”

“There is no confusion,” snapped the ape-kid, licking his lips. “I saw you running around behind him at yesterday’s tournament, with a stupid smile across your face. In fact, you’re there every year holding your brother’s weapons. Well, what about my brother!” His voice rose to a scream. “I could be there for my brother, but
oh no
. He never is allowed to compete because the
great
Albert Hyatt is always chosen.”

“Good point, Laars,” said one of the boys.

“Chosen?” said Falcon. “My brother is not chosen. He wins every year. All your brother has to do is beat him, but we both know he can’t do that. Can he?”

“Shut up!” Laars rolled his fist. “Now that that prat murdered the councilmen, my brother will represent Ladria at the academy tournaments.”

“My brother didn’t kill anyone. You’ll see; the truth will come out.”

“My brother didn’t kill
, blah, blah, blah
,” repeated Laars in a high-pitched sneer. The gang of boys let out a forced laugh. “Enough talk. Time for this mongrel to learn how to address his superiors.”

They jumped at him from all sides, throwing wild punches and kicks. Falcon managed to knock two of his assailants down with two punches to the jaw. But two kicks breached his defense. They drove hard into his stomach. His air left him and he struggled to breathe.

A hard punch slammed into his left temple. He fell, face first, to the ground. The alley dirt gritted in his mouth, and the smell of blood filled his nostrils.

A kick found his stomach. Then a fist cracked the back of his head. He curled up into a ball as the blows continued to land throughout his body.

The more hits he took, the more his rage grew.
What right do they have to attack me like this? Cowards. Insolent cowards!

Then he felt it.

At first it was a simple twinkle of light inside his aching chest. The intensity of it grew until the energy of the two suns raged inside him.
What is this power?
The mass burst of power traveled from his chest and shot out from his fingertips.

Red lightning!

His assailants flew high into the air. Seconds later, they crashed down. They looked at each other with baffled expressions as they clumsily picked themselves up.

“B-b-but how?” stuttered Laars. “You have a gray emblem, you’re a void wielder. It can’t be…” His voice trailed off.

If Laars expected an answer from Falcon, he would have to wait a long time, for he had no answer.
How did I do that?
Yellow lightning was one thing, but crimson lightning could only be wielded by the most powerful of wielders.

Laars took a step forward. He motioned to his gang to back him up.

The pea-headed kid stood frozen in his tracks. “We were fortunate that attack didn’t hit us directly. What if next time it does?”

Another one of the gang members spoke up. “A burst of red lightning can kill. I don’t want any part of it.”

“It’s a trick,” urged Laars. “Look at the emblem in his glove; it’s gray. That means he’s a void wielder, he can’t wield lightning.”

Despite their leader’s insistence, the gang of boys did not move.

“I got to go do something,” said the smallest of the group, turning and dashing out of the alley. He didn’t look back.

“Yes, I also have to do, um…something,” added the bald-headed boy. Falcon lost sight of him after he turned the corner. One by one, the other boys followed suit until only Laars remained.

“Come back here, you cowards, it’s a trick I tell you. Delita, you hairless idiot. Get back here now!” But it quickly became clear though that neither Delita nor the rest of his gang were coming back. Laars expression changed from one of confidence to one of fear. “I…I have to go.” His voice trembled. “But don’t think you won. I will see you again, traitor, and next time I won’t let you off so easy.” 

Falcon caught his breath as Laars dashed away. He didn’t how he wielded such power, but this was not the time to ponder it. He’d already wasted an entire day and was still nowhere closer to finding his brother.

The sudden commotion coming from the city square interrupted his concentration.
What’s going on now? Maybe it’s Albert.

Falcon moved at a slow and careful pace. The square was still filled with people.

The messenger, the same one who had delivered the scroll to his brother the previous day, stood atop a podium that had been erected at the middle of the square. He shouted over the loud crowd.

The women wore smiles on their faces. Men pumped their fists in the air. Children cheered into the wind. Not even the rain that poured from the dark skies hindered their joyous celebration.

Falcon pushed his way through the crowd, reaching the podium just in time to hear the end of the speech. His heart sank as the words echoed in his head.

“I repeat. Albert Hyatt’s worthless life has been extinguished.”

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