The Archon's Apprentice (7 page)

“I don’t see how having a friend will hurt me when I am Archon. Especially one I have known my whole life.”

“You should ask Voletain about it. But I can assure you that if you sever your connections now it will help you stay sane in the future.”

They were interrupted by a quick knock followed by the door opening. Bayle rushed in to the room looking for Mikol before stopping and becoming momentarily distracted by the glowing map on the table.

“What is it, Bayle?” asked Mikol.

“Uh, yes, there is a messenger. I am not sure from whom though. He was ushered away quickly to the throne room.”

“Sorry, Omoni. This could be important. We shall continue this another time.”

Mikol barely acknowledged Omoni’s bow as he and Bayle left the office.

***

When they arrived in the throne room the messenger stood patiently in front of the king. Mikol saw that he had not been acknowledged by the king, who sat sleeping on the throne. One of the servants was trying to gently wake up the king. Mikol did not recognize the man, but he wore a Ternian uniform.

“What news do you have?”

“Prince Perim told me to only speak with the King.”

“I am Prince Mikol. It will be some time before the king is awake.” They both looked up at Raifaran, who had turned onto his side despite the pleadings of the man trying to wake him up. The man’s conflicted gaze shifted back and forth between Mikol and the king. Mikol thought the man was trying to will the king awake. After several moments the messenger relented and handed the missive over to Mikol. Mikol saw Perim’s royal seal still intact, securing the contents within. The small flash that occurred when Mikol broke the seal made the man jump backward. Mikol smirked silently to himself. He knew the message could have been safely handed to anyone, but only one of royal blood could have read it. Mikol read the message hoping there would be good news within. He could not decide if the message was good or bad.
 

Mikol motioned for the messenger to follow and they slowly walked towards the king. He read the message three more times to make sure he did not miss anything. When they got to the first step Mikol motioned for the messenger to wait. Continuing up the stairs, Mikol saw that Raifaran had awoken but was looking around slowly. He bowed quickly and stepped up to his father’s side.
 

“Father. We have news from Perim.” The king looked at Mikol, blinking. After a moment he smiled up at his son and gestured for his wine glass. “There is not much news. He has secured the countryside and is marching on to Enhurst. They have had nightly skirmishes with blood mages, but they have quickly defeated them. But it is dated over a month ago.”

The large doors at the front of the room opened and a guard hurried in to the room. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and bowed low.

“Sire, there is another messenger.”

“Two in one day?” said Mikol. “This could be from Arceri.”

“Sorry, no, Your Highness,” said the guard. “The messenger is from the Sibilovan Army. He has a message for the king.”

Raifaran perked up at this and looked directly at the guard.

“Go on,” said Raifaran.

“He–he says it is terms of Ternia’s surrender.”

The same servant who had woken him had just entered with more wine. For the first time since Mikol could remember, Raifaran turned the servant away with the wine. The king stood up and made a few motions with his hands, and his whole appearance changed. The wine-stained clothing was replaced with flowing regal robes. He stood high and portrayed an aura that Mikol had only seen from portraits of the king in his youth, hundreds of years ago.

“Bring him in.”

The guard waved through the still open door. Moments later more guards entered, escorting another messenger. Mikol looked the man over. Even with a clean and polished appearance he was not what Mikol would have expected to see in a man demanding the surrender of your kingdom. They stopped well away from the throne but close enough that the man did not have to speak loudly. He unfurled a sheet of paper.

“I am an Emissary on behalf of the rightful king of Anglantaea, the descendent of Tanris, first son of King Ioyan, the benevolent king Kagarin Delvmight. After uniting the once savage kingdoms once again into the mighty nation of Sibilova, he has proclaimed the exiled kingdom of Ternia should once again be part of this realm. The king is offering amnesty if Ternia and her king surrender to him. He does not wish bloodshed and only wishes to make Anglantaea whole again.”

“What if I refuse?”

“Ternia will return to Sibilova. It is only a matter of time and lives.”

“I see. And where is this usurper? Why does he
not show himself today?” said Raifaran.

“I am an Emissary of the king. I have here to accept your surrender. I have been instructed to deliver his will and see it enacted as I will be the Regent until he returns. Will you surrender for the benefit of your people?”

“I have seen many the likes of this warlord before. I have heard his message. I do not accept his will any more than I would a fly. Like those before him I will not bow to a petty man. Furthermore, I do not recognize any descendent of the exiled traitor Tanris. He died thousands of years ago with no children. Throw this miscreant into the dungeon. I will hear no more of this.”

The man tried to run but only managed to get tangled in his own legs as the guards grabbed him. They dragged him out while he was kicking and screaming. He started to curse at people and was silenced by one of the guards with a fist. Mikol looked at his father with awe. He had been at court many times before but had never seen Raifaran address anyone with such fervor. The facade did not last, and when Raifaran plopped back down on the throne the magic had fallen and his unkempt, stained clothing returned. His wine glass was returned to his hand by the same servant who had been turned away.
 

***

Mikol could not sleep after finally getting word from one of his brothers and wandered the halls of Valefort. Mikol had told Bayle to stay away for a few days. Mikol had relied on their friendship since he was a child and could not fathom what he would do without Bayle. Becoming Archon should not change his friendships. He knew his duties to the kingdom would become more important than any one relationship. As he thought about what it would be like to be Archon he could not recall seeing Voletain in a social gathering. Council meetings and other necessary functions aside, the only person Mikol could see Voletain being himself with was the king. There was never a time Mikol had seen Voletain doing anything that was not for the kingdom. Surprised at where he had walked, Mikol found himself just outside of Voletain’s study.

Light spilled out of the doorway into the hall beyond. Mikol knocked lightly on the door. He was answered immediately by Voletain telling him to enter.

“Mikol, what brings you to grace my presence this evening?’ said Voletain.

Mikol opened his mouth to speak but found he could not. He licked his lips and looked away.

“I–I don’t know if I want to be Archon.”

Voletain smiled and motioned for Mikol to sit beside him.

“There is nothing wrong with being afraid, my child.”

“It’s not that. I’m not afraid.”

“Why do you not want to be Archon?”

“Well, I do want to be Archon, but I don’t want to be alone.”

“Alone? What do you mean, alone? I am hardly alone, my son. What brought this up?”

“During our session today, Omoni told me what it would be like to be Archon.”

“Come now, how would Omoni know what it is like to be me? He is also but a child in my eyes. What did he really say?”

“He told me that I should not be friends with anyone, as I will outlive them.”

“It is true you will outlive everyone you know. That does not mean you should not be friends with anyone. Or that you will be alone. I have had many friends and many lovers over the years. All of those relationships have ended, and many were ended before they died. At some point your loved ones will come to resent you and the fact you will not seem to age. When you are still sparring with new recruits and Bayle is confined to his deathbed, you will understand.”

“But I’ve never seen you friendly with anyone. Well, I have seen you friendly, but not as a real friend.”

“No, I have not had anyone I would call a friend in nearly a hundred years. Before your father could not handle the time, he used to be a great friend. But seeing enough of his lovers die, he found wine filled many of his needs just as well.”

“Why have you not become a drunk like my father?”

“The duties of Archon will take up much of your time, and even with as much time as we have it is never enough. Even after the mundane necessary tasks have been completed, the runes provide an enormous amount of wealth, knowledge, and enjoyment for me. So much knowledge was lost after the sundering.”

Voletain had been drawing runes in the air as he talked. Both of them watched the runes dance in the air until they vanished.

“So, should I stop being friends with Bayle?”

“I cannot answer that for you, but many of the friendships I have had got me through some rough years.”

“I don’t think I could stop being friends with Bayle, but I don’t want him to hate me either.”

“He will have to come to terms with what you are himself. If he cannot, then there is nothing you can do for him.”

Voletain got up and started searching for something in the back of his study. Mikol did not think Bayle would ever be jealous of him or come to resent him. They had done too much together for anything to come between them. But Mikol could not be sure what would happen in fifty years when he still looked as he did right now. Mikol decided he would not be the one to end their friendship. They had always talked about joining the Wardens or even one of the trade orders and seeing the world. Surely, Mikol thought, being Archon I should be able to do what I want and appoint anyone to any position I want. Voletain made a triumphant sound that brought Mikol out of his reverie. Mikol had not noticed Voletain had been searching for something.

“It seems I had not taken as much care of this as I should have.” Voletain blew dust off of a bundle he withdrew from a locked drawer. Mikol could not remember seeing any of it before, but there was so much in the room he did not know how Voletain could find anything. Voletain held the bundle carefully and motioned for Mikol to come closer. Voletain cleared off part of his desk, gently set the bundle down, and began unwrapping it. Mikol felt his jaw slowly drop as the most exquisite and beautiful sword he had ever seen was slowly revealed in front of him.

“This is the last of the true rune swords created in the time of King Ioyan. After the great war, during the Sundering, they were all destroyed, except for this one. It was given to the first Archon as a symbol of power over the runes. But it is not only a symbol, it is also a powerful weapon.” Voletain ran his fingers gently over the hilt and down the scabbard. The runes responded to his touch and glowed faintly as he passed over them. He grabbed the handle, pulling the sword out. Chills ran up and down Mikol’s back as more of the blade drew forth from the scabbard revealing intricate runes etched on the metal.
 

“The sword was created for battle in a time when rune magic was wild and untamed. Everyone was able to use rune magic, and chaos was law of the land. It does not protect against all the runes and will not do anything on its own. But it cannot be hurt by magic of any form, and it will not dull, nor will it rust.”

Mikol reached out to touch the sword but pulled his hand back quickly. He had been through every armory in Valefort and had studied every sword he could and he had never seen such a beautiful weapon.
 

“Let me show you a little of what it can do.” Voletain walked over to a sconce on the wall and removed the outer covering. Behind the ornate reflector of the sconce lay a simple illumination rune carved into the wall. Voletain touched the tip of the sword to the glowing rune on the wall. Mikol flinched as the rune made a sharp popping noise and flared up in a brief, bright white flash. The rune had disappeared and the wall behind was left unmarred. Mikol could only guess at his own expression as Voletain smiled back at him.

“The sword is tuned to its owner, and through it you can will it to destroy magic. This type of weapon could not be created today with what is known of magic. Especially since the weapon is capable of working with an owner that is not tuned to the rune magic himself.” Voletain held the sword carefully in both hands.

“I think it is time I pass this down to my apprentice,” said Voletain.

Mikol stared at the sword, mesmerized by the beauty of the blade. The runes glowed softly in the now darker light of Voletain’s study. Mikol could see hundreds of runes pulsing along the edge of the blade. Voletain’s words finally permeated Mikol’s thoughts. He stammered for a moment before falling to his knees.
 

“I cannot take such a sword. Such a weapon should be given to a true master. I am not worthy.”

“You are more worthy than I. You are mastering rune magic and shall surpass what I can teach you soon. There has never been a need for me to use the blade, and for a time I had forgotten it existed. I have never wanted to use a weapon either. Mikol, it is I who is not worthy of this sword. Rise Mikol, take the sword, and become the master of Raythrael, Bane of the Malign.”

Mikol stood up reverently and grasped the handle, slowly taking it from Voletain’s upturned hands. Mikol knew the weight of swords and had trained with all kinds, but this was the lightest sword he had ever held. Voletain moved to one of the two remaining sconces in his study and removed the reflector.

“Come Mikol, use the blade and destroy this rune. I have been meaning to change the lighting in this room for some time.”

“How do I do it?”

“Simply think of what you want it to do. Touch the sword to the rune and will it away.”

Mikol walked up to the rune and touched the tip of the sword to it. Nothing happened. Mikol frowned.