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Authors: Neil Breault

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BOOK: The Archon's Apprentice
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“I heard Jobi rustling around,” said the first soldier, “and when I saw a man suddenly appear I shot my bolt at him. I was surprised when my bolt hit another man instead. I suspect he was actually between me and the man I was aiming for. I called out the alarm, and that’s when we saw the other three men. They were brought down quickly.”

“I want every inch of this village searched again thoroughly with lanterns and torches,” said Perim. “If anything seems out of the ordinary, stab it or burn it ... or both. Find out what it is later. I will not have my camp infiltrated.”

***

No further alarms were raised that night. Before the sun had risen above the horizon the army had already broken down camp. The sheer size of the army prevented quick advancement to the next village. Everyone kept looking over their shoulders and closely watching the fields for any invisible enemies, which only exacerbated their slow pace. They found a suitable empty field between villages to set up camp. Perim ordered twice as much guard as the night before and for the whole perimeter of camp to be encircled by lanterns and torches. Perim went to his tent and lay down. He had not planned on sleeping, but when the alarm sounded he bolt upright. As he arrived at the perimeter he saw a similar sight to the night before. Several dead men were sprawled out in the field, riddled with crossbow bolts. They burned the bodies and Perim went back to his tent.

This went on for two weeks as the army made its way along the edge of Enhurst. During the day they saw nothing, and only during the night did they have any contact with a hostile force. The first two villages held no further clues. No signs of battle or distress were found in or around any of the abandoned buildings. Every night held a similar encounter with near invisible enemies. The tactics employed by the enemy varied from night to night: Sometimes they spread out along the camp and other times they tried to rush through all together. Being on high alert, the guard did not let any of these infiltrators close to camp.
 

The night before they reached the last village before they moved on to Enhurst itself, Perim caught a few minutes of rest when he could and waited for the alarm to be raised. He did not have to wait long before it came. He knew what to expect and did not hurry to see the dead anymore. When he reached the edge of camp he saw the same scene that had unfolded the previous nights. One of his men seemed to be examining a body very closely. There was nothing obviously different about this man compared to the others, so Perim walked over to his soldier.

“What have you found?”

“I know this man,” said the soldier.

“What do you mean, you know this man?” asked Perim.

“He lived in the next village. He was a baker. A lot of us who’ve been out here know this man.”

“He tried to attack our camp. There is no excuse. Burn his body like the rest.”

“But that’s just it, sire. He was a pacifist. He spoke quite boldly about it. All he cared about were his cakes and making sure people were happy with them. They were the best cakes I have ever eaten, sir.”

Perim scrutinized the body. Through the bloody mess, he did recognize the man. He had made some of the most delicious cakes Perim had ever eaten. Had all of the attackers been villagers? He could not be certain who attacked them, but he could not doubt his resolve. Maybe some of the infiltrators had been villagers, but someone had changed them and led the attacks. So far no answers had been found and only more questions had been raised.

“Tomorrow I want to capture one of the attackers. Maybe they can give us some answers.”

***

Their arrival at the last village found much the same as the previous villages: no life anywhere and completely abandoned buildings. Perim held a brief meeting with his officers to discuss their plans for arriving at Enhurst. He excused his officers afterward, but Dryos stayed behind. Perim did not question why Dryos had not left. Eventually Dryos sat in a chair in the corner. Perim could not sleep and paced about his tent. He heard soft snoring coming from Dryos, as he had fallen asleep in the chair. Perim envied the General and wondered if he should sleep but knew there would be another attack soon. Instead of waiting for the alarm to be raised, he left his tent and walked around the camp. Where he should have found sleeping soldiers he discovered many had caught his insomnia while they awaited the inevitable. Every soldier saluted him as he walked by.
 

Perim’s runic armor had fully sheathed his body before the alarm finished sounding. He rushed to greet their captive but when he arrived he was surprised by what he saw. The infiltrators had chosen an opportune time to attack. The largest of the guard relief was happening, leaving only a handful of his soldiers actively watching for a few moments. Several enemies were dead, but Perim was dismayed that some of his soldiers were wounded and possibly dead as well. Just outside of crossbow range stood a young girl. He could not tell her exact age but did not think her out of childhood. She grasped the same style curved blade as all of the other dead enemies, but hers dripped with fresh blood. With a blank face, she darted forwarded.

“Take her alive!”

The nearest soldier attempted to throw a net at the girl. The net had not left his hands before she had ducked underneath and sliced through his neck. This did not slow her down as she rounded on the next soldier, leaping on him and stabbing her dagger into his chest. She jumped off his body toward Perim.

The remaining soldiers quickly nocked arrows and let them loose at the girl. She deftly dodged each arrow and this brought her close enough to leap at Perim. He had been ready for the attack and parried her blade with his conjured rune sword. The curved blade broke in half with a flash and the girl stepped back with a surprised look on her face.

“Girl, I don’t want—“

She recovered quickly and leapt at Perim again, now with a smaller blade in hand. He had not seen her grab the knife and was almost caught off guard. He barely dodged her attacks and brought his knee up fast in to her chest. She fell to the ground, but before Perim could reach her she sprang back up, knife still in hand and aimed at him. She came at Perim with a ferocity he did not expect. His resolve to not hurt her and capture her started to wane. Her blade scored a few hits against his runic armor but it only sparked magic. With each attack her effort and savagery were redoubled. He was not sure how long he could keep fighting the girl like this. He saw no other way to stop her and disarmed her the quickest way he could—he slashed his blade through her wrist. She did not slow down when his blade sliced her hand cleanly off and instead tried to stab him with her bloody arm. His soldiers had circled the two of them and were slowly moving in to grab the girl.
 

Perim had taught his soldiers well and maneuvered the girl and himself so she could not see the net. She raised an eyebrow at Perim and cocked her head. She seemed to have read the situation and leapt backwards. The soldiers did not hesitate and lunged to take her down. She sidestepped the soldiers and from nowhere drew another knife. She leapt backward once again and stopped. The blade rested against her own neck. Perim released his blade and it disappeared. He then raised his empty hands to the girl. No longer could he see the ferocity in her eyes. She stared Perim down with no emotion showing on her face, still holding the knife to her throat. When Perim took a step towards her, she drew the blade across her throat.

He walked over to her body and squatted down beside her. Close up, he thought she could only have been fourteen or fifteen. Her youthfulness was marred by several cuts on her arms and legs. At first he thought they were from his fight but the locations of the cuts were impossible with his sword. As he scrutinized the cuts it dawned on him they were deliberate and appeared to be rudimentary runes. Looking closer at the rest of her body he could see scars of varying ages all over that were also runic in nature. The curved blade she attacked him with lay close to her. He picked up the blade carefully, and what he had thought to be blood was in fact darker and slicker. The patch of grass where he had picked up the blade was brown and dead. He had never seen or heard of anything like this before. This was no ordinary attack. She had been an assassin.

“Burn all the bodies. Don’t touch anything that doesn’t look natural,” said Perim as he indicated the grass with the blade. “Captain, send three of your fastest men to my tent in one hour.”
 

The Captain saluted and ordered the soldiers to get the bodies. Perim went back to his tent. He found Dryos still asleep on the chair. Finding it a bit odd his battle-hardened general would have missed an alarm, he walked over to the man. The handle of a blade similar to the girl’s protruded from Dryos’s back. The wound appeared black and charred. Only a small amount of blood had leaked out of the wound. Cursing himself, Perim quickly looked around the room but found no hidden assassin or invisible warriors.

He sat down at his desk and penned several quick letters back to Valefort. The Captain and messengers found Perim standing in front of Dryos’s body. He was aware of their presence but did not acknowledge them until the captain cleared his throat. Perim handed over letters and told them to leave immediately.

“Sire,” said the Captain, “what happened? Who killed Dryos?”

“I don’t know. It could’ve been the same girl from earlier, or another unknown assassin. It’s a shame we don’t have time for a proper funeral. All of Ternia should mourn Dryos’s loss. Burn his body as well, but make a separate pyre. We can at least give him some measure of respect.”

“Uh, sire?”

“Yes?”

“You want us to burn Dryos’s body?”

“Yes. We have no time for tradition. Those responsible will be hunted down and brought to swift justice. It is time we bring the fight to them. Tomorrow we march on Enhurst and burn it to the ground.”

Chapter 5

Emissary

As Mikol walked to Omoni’s study, he stepped in front of the raven courtyard, thinking back to the last time he had seen Arceri. A thick layer of snow now covered the ground. It had been the driest winter he could remember, and only a few days ago did it snow. He had continued to train every day, even after the tournament had been canceled. The only courtyard he could use for practice was too far away from Voletain’s study to get to on a daily basis. He had tried to train during the night but it became too exhausting, and he made more mistakes in his training with swords and with runes because of it. Voletain never said anything, but Mikol could always tell when Voletain was unhappy. He had stopped training with swords as much and focused on learning about becoming Archon. He sighed and continued on to Omoni’s study.

The door was open and Omoni sat behind his desk poring over another large tome. Mikol was sure Omoni had been waiting for him as he quickly set aside the tome and motioned for Mikol to close the door and sit down.
 

“It seems Voletain wants me to discuss the Warden sect with you today,” said Omoni.

“Yes. Your sect is the last one I need to learn about. Voletain himself taught me about Eocara’s sect recently, as he has still not returned from Highbarrow with Arceri.”

“Dead, most likely,” said Omoni as he grabbed another tome from his shelf. “It is a pity. Eocara and I agreed on many things. The other preceptors do not view the Wardens with much respect. But should we stop protecting them from the Savage Kingdoms, they’d get angry. These are things you will inherit when you become Archon age-old arguments that do not die.”

Omoni opened the tome to a picture of Anglantaea. There were small inscriptions all over the map and it made it hard to make out anything specific. Omoni traced several small runes on the map and the map expanded up and off the book. All of the passages were now floating above the map and had a small blue tether that tied them to a place on the map. Mikol reached out and touched one of the passages. It grew larger while the others shrank, making the entry easier to read.
 

“This is our catalog of battles against blood magic,” said Omoni. He pointed to several passages at random. “Every time the sect gets a report from a warden patrol in the world it is recorded here. This tome lists encounters from just after the Great War up to now. We have been able to track many of the blood magic cults over the centuries, and on several occasions we thought we had destroyed the scourge, only to have it resurface somewhere else in the world.”

Omoni pointed to three separate passages indicating the blood magic threat had been eradicated, and then to three more dated shortly after each where blood magic had been spotted once again.

“Why does it come back?” asked Mikol.

“That is a question that every preceptor and Archon has asked when they look at this map. It is a question I ask myself every day. The main reason is that, unlike our runic magic, blood magic uses the power within a person. You only need to be taught what to do and you can use blood magic. Anyone can learn our runic magic, but it would be useless to them without being attuned to the magic itself. Speaking of useless, where is the bumbling friend of yours?”

“I have asked him to watch the main gate for any messengers from Arceri or Perim. And he is not useless, we’ve done a lot together. I have known him since before I can remember.”

“That is my point, Mikol. As you are becoming more learned as apprentice Archon you need to devote more time to study. He is only slowing you down and will provide nothing for your future. When you become Archon you will have even fewer friends than you do now.”

“Because I will be the head of the sanctuary?”

“No,” said Omoni. “Because you will outlive everyone but the king.” Omoni stopped for a moment. “Whoever ends up being king. How long has it been since we have heard from Perim?”

“Three months. But I know Arceri and Perim are both alive.”

“You’ve led a very sheltered life here in Valefort. I don’t know if I should pity you or envy you. There is much you still need to learn and much you will experience. It is best if you distance yourself from those that are close to you. Their deaths will only hurt you.”

BOOK: The Archon's Apprentice
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