Read Arcane (The Arinthian Line Book 1) Online

Authors: Sever Bronny

Tags: #magic sword and sorcery, #Fantasy adventure epic, #medieval knights castles kingdom legend myth tale, #series coming of age, #witches wizards warlocks spellcaster

Arcane (The Arinthian Line Book 1) (21 page)

BOOK: Arcane (The Arinthian Line Book 1)
4.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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When Sir Westwood finished speaking, the boy produced a wooden sword and made a slashing motion, the man approving with a nod. Augum remembered that sword well—Sir Westwood had carved it himself. The sword was well-balanced and fun to hold, the handle a perfect fit for Augum’s hand.

Sir Westwood spoke again and pointed towards older Augum. An eager smile lit up young Augum’s face; he hopped forward and waved with a skinny arm. Sir Westwood smiled softly from behind, raising a hand in salute. Augum could not help but feebly wave back.

Sir Westwood’s attention drifted to young Augum, his face hardening. After a moment of watching the boy swinging the sword, he raised his firm gaze back to older Augum. With a final slow nod, he backed away into the white, disappearing in a smoky blur.

“Sir, wait—” Augum whispered, hoping he would return to counsel him, to finish the sword training …

Only the young Augum remained now, chewing on a finger while staring at older Augum. The boy glanced about and smiled uncertainly, rocking back and forth on his heels. Augum smiled at his younger self, who abruptly turned and skipped off, only to reappear guiding a whole group of people.

There was the ebony-skinned Sharpe family—Tyeon, grandmother, blind grandfather, father, mother and sister—all looking distinguished and peaceful; and there the Burns’—the tired-looking grandma that smiled nonetheless, the mother with the same long cinnamon hair and pert nose as Bridget, the burly father with the bushy mustache, and two grinning chestnut-haired brothers. Then a smiling couple with raven hair stepped forward, the mother freckled, father with protuberant eyes. Leera’s parents … Augum recalled that pungent drink and the love that had come along with it.

There were others too, people he had not met personally but remembered from the village. Young Augum was at the front the entire time, smiling that innocent boyish smile.

Seeing the group together, it dawned on Augum what he and his friends had lost. Tears began flowing freely down his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry …” he whispered. “Goodbye to you all …”

They smiled at the older Augum. Then, one at a time, they departed, some waving goodbye, some nodding, and some simply smiling.

Augum slowly waved back, knowing he would never see them again, knowing this was indeed the final farewell. The group gradually blurred until disappearing into that blistering white haze, leaving him to watch an empty space, listening to a distant song, heart at peace.

He had had his chance to say goodbye.

The song abruptly ended and the white disappeared, the blue fire with it. It took a while for his eyes to adjust back to the night. He watched smoke tendrils curl skyward. Silence passed, the world appearing cold and sharp.

At last, Mrs. Stone quietly returned to the castle. He stood a long while before glancing at Bridget and Leera. Their cheeks were wet, hands folded in front. He departed with bowed head, feeling it was appropriate to leave them behind to mourn on their own.

Back inside the warmth of the castle, he clambered up dark steps. Finding it oddly comfortable, he did not light his palm, letting the cool marble banister guide the way. When he reached the room, he found the canopy bedstead fully repaired, draped with sheer netting, and made with a floral red velvet duvet. Laid out on top were three sets of nightwear—two gowns and a long nightshirt.

Mrs. Stone stood before the fireplace, gazing into the flames, hands behind her back. “Now that the castle is warm, Augum, you shall have your own room, as will the girls,” she said in a weary voice, gesturing to the wall. “Yours is the next room over. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mrs. Stone.” He picked up the nightshirt and left her staring at the fire. His new room had a single ornate oaken door that creaked upon opening. A low fire guttered in the hearth on the left side. Mrs. Stone stood just on the other side of that wall, staring into a fire just like it.

The room was about half the size of Mrs. Stone’s. There was a small wardrobe, three windows as opposed to six, and a canopy bedstead with the same sheer curtain and red-velvet duvet.

He changed into the nightshirt, hung both his robes in the wardrobe, and jumped into the softest bed he had ever lain in. Getting comfortable, he once again wondered how Mrs. Stone managed to bring all those things home—the basket of food, the clothing, the sheets and duvet; until his thoughts drifted further—to a castle, a knight, a whiteness; and through-out, a lingering, bitter-sweet song …

Telekinesis

Augum woke from a deep sleep to a sharp knocking at the door.

“Get dressed and come to breakfast,” Mrs. Stone said before shuffling off.

He was grateful she had not woken him as she used to—with the butt end of her staff. Then he remembered it had smashed while saving his life and he suddenly felt bad for wanting to throw it down Mt. Barrow.

Yawning and stretching, he stumbled out of bed and dressed in his new burgundy robe. Bright morning sun streamed in through the windows, the rays defined by slowly tumbling particles of dust. The fire in the hearth had gone out overnight, yet it had remained warm due to their runeword-finding adventure of the previous day. After securing his new yellow leather belt, he made his way to the grand dining room, stomach grumbling.

Mrs. Stone, Bridget and Leera already sat, chatting idly. Bacon, eggs, bread, apples, milk and honey sat on the table. The girls wore their new apprentice robes while Mrs. Stone was dressed in a plain off-white robe that had no embroidery or ornamentation of any kind.

Augum bid them good morning as he sat down in his usual chair. He noted how the circles under everyone’s eyes had disappeared and the smiles came easily. They too must have slept well.

They ate mostly in silence, occasionally exchanging pleasantries and making light conversation. After breakfast, Mrs. Stone dabbed at her lips with a cloth and fixed them with a measured look.

“Let us begin the day’s lessons. Who can tell me the qualifications for the 1st degree?”

Bridget spoke first. “One must show one has learned the three standard spells as well as the single spell of one’s element.”

“Correct. And the three standard spells are …?”

This time Leera spoke up. “Telekinesis, Repair and, um … Unconceal?”

“Correct again. Thus far I believe you have only practiced your elemental spell, Shine, is that accurate?”

“Yes, Mrs. Stone,” they chorused.

“And I am aware I covered Telekinesis a bit with Augum, but how about you girls, have you had a chance to learn the spell yet?”

They shook their heads.

“A ‘No, Mrs. Stone’ or a ‘Yes, Mrs. Stone’ will do.”

“No, Mrs. Stone,” the girls said.

“Very well then, that is what we shall practice this morning.” Mrs. Stone folded her cloth napkin. “Telekinesis is the movement of an item using your mind. It is the first standard spell because it is a most apt introduction to standard arcanery. Allow me to demonstrate.”

She beckoned at Leera’s fork; it flew into her hand.

“It is a non-verbal spell, meaning you cast it without an arcane word. When you excel with it, you may even be able to cast it without gesturing.” Mrs. Stone placed her hands in her lap. Augum’s fork suddenly moved over to Leera’s side. Leera squealed in surprise, her chair tipping backwards. She clawed at the table like a frantic cat, just managing to hold on. Red-faced, she cleared her throat and settled in as if nothing had happened.

Mrs. Stone ignored her. “Should you remain studious in your craft and master this spell, you will be able to do it over ever larger distances and to ever larger things, eventually even being able to move people around.”

He imagined throwing Robin from one end of the room to the other.

“Augum, you know how to perform the basics of this spell. I would like you to teach it to Bridget and Leera until midday. You can practice on the large pile of rocks at the entrance to the castle, which I want cleared by lunch. In the afternoon, we shall move on to the Repair spell. Am I making myself understood?”

“Yes, Mrs. Stone.”

“So be it. Off with you now.”

The trio excused themselves from the table, descended to the foyer and exited through the two massive entranceway doors, stopping at the foot of the rubble pile in the vestibule.

Leera scoffed. “She wants us to move this mountain when we hadn’t even
cast
the spell before?”

“She doesn’t fool around,” Augum said, taking a deep breath. He was not feeling particularly confident about his ability to teach, seeing as he had never taught anyone anything before—and Telekinesis was a hard spell; he recalled how difficult it was just to move a small stone back on Mt. Barrow.

Bridget began climbing. “She has high expectations for us. All we have to do is work hard. Besides, we’ve seen our parents use this spell plenty of times; I’m sure we’ll manage.”

The three apprentice warlocks gathered at the bottom of the pile outside the castle, shielding their eyes with their hands. It was a bright yet cold day, the snow particularly brittle underfoot. The sky remained clear except for a distant haze of cloud that peeked over snow-encrusted evergreens. The occasional tweet of a winter bird sounded from the Ravenwood, which otherwise stood tall and silent. The pile of rubble glistened in the sunlight, the occasional boulder peeking through the snow.

Leera folded her arms and smirked. “All right, Teacher—teach.”

Augum rubbed the back of his neck. “Um … okay, you have to, uh … to visualize, um … moving the uh, thing … and you use your hand to, um … to get it to … you know … to move … and stuff.” He felt dumber than a toad, and for some reason his tongue was not working properly.

Bridget placed her hands on her hips. “So you mean we have to concentrate on moving the object while we gesture at it with our hand?”

“Yes exactly—couldn’t have said it better myself.”

“No, you certainly couldn’t,” Leera muttered.

Augum ignored the remark. “So yeah, focus on the object and think about it
moving
—” and he raised his arm and beckoned for a small rock to move.

Except the stupid thing did not obey.

“Um, hold on …” Red-faced, he beckoned again, yet the rock stubbornly refused to budge. He gestured frantically. “Dumb rock—move!”

Nothing happened.

The girls exchanged amused looks. He checked the six stained glass windows of Mrs. Stone’s room and discovered her staring down at him, a sour look on her face.

Great …

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, resolving to concentrate.
An enemy with a clear and focused mind is a fearsome one
, he heard Sir Westwood say.
He then recalled successfully moving objects before, especially the lost rope at Hangman’s Rock. He had to still his mind, that was all there was to it.

He slowly expelled his breath, let the thoughts slide away to emptiness, opened his eyes, and beckoned.

The stone flew into his hand. He expelled a breath in relief.

Leera uncrossed her arms. She took the rock from his hand and examined it, as if hoping to find a string attached. “All right, not bad …”

Augum stole a peek at the windows, but they were empty. “Clear your mind,” he said. “That’s the key—clear your mind.”

Bridget nodded. “All right, what else do we need to know?”

Confidence regained, he repeated what Mrs. Stone taught him back on the mountain, explaining the three principles and how rocks had a tendency to want to roll downhill.

Leera’s face scrunched skeptically. “‘Downhill’?”

“Yeah, like if I tried to move that rock up there at the top of the pile—” he pointed to a small boulder, “it helps to know which
way
the rock wants to go, making the spell easier. At least, I think that’s what Mrs. Stone was getting at …”

“Makes sense,” Bridget said.

Leera rolled her eyes. “Kind of obvious too.”

Bridget gave her an elbow. “Stop being grumpy,
Robin
.”

“Sorry, I’ll play nice.”

Augum raised his arm, focusing on the top of the pile. “All right, let’s begin,” and so they practiced for hours, Augum instructing as best he could, a new pile forming behind them. It was not long until Leera and Bridget were summoning small rocks. After pushing himself, he too progressed with the spell, now able to move slightly heavier stones.

The hours of casting took their toll on them, however—heads hurt, attention spans and tempers were short, and nausea prevailed.

Glancing at the sun, Augum noted it would soon be lunchtime, yet most of the pile sat untouched. An idea came to him. “This is taking too long, we have to work together. You two go for the small stones and I’ll go for the larger ones. When rocks tumble from higher up we’ll use their momentum and push them along with the spell—”

“—that way we can move stones that are far heavier than we otherwise could—brilliant, Augum!” Bridget said, beaming.

Leera only groaned, massaging her temples.

Augum blushed with pride and went to work. However, pushing falling rocks with Telekinesis proved difficult and took some getting used to. The snow certainly did not help and the rocks they missed on the way down were too heavy to begin moving anew—those they would have to manually push later. Nonetheless, stone by stone, they weeded the pile down. To make things easier, they separated the wood and iron.

By the time the sun shone directly overheard, the once small hole above the pile was now a giant maw. The trio was becoming quite practiced, Bridget and Leera even managing to move rocks closer in weight to Augum’s. Unfortunately, the side effects forced them to take frequent breaks.

Augum, panting, gestured at a large rock. “All together on the big ones now.” With Leera and Bridget’s help, he managed to arcanely roll it to the new pile. Time was running out, yet there remained some large rocks in the hallway, not to mention a cluster of boulders outside that required brute strength to move. He glanced at the heap of wood. Well, at least they had completed that part of it …

They worked at a frantic pace now, expecting Mrs. Stone’s arrival at any moment. There were a few narrow escapes as the stones came hurtling past, reminding them to remain alert. When they could no longer move anything with Telekinesis, they put their backs into it and pushed the remaining boulders, yet even that was not enough for the last few, which required their combined strength
and
Telekinesis to move.

BOOK: Arcane (The Arinthian Line Book 1)
4.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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