The Willbreaker (Book 1) (5 page)

              “You have fulfilled strands of prophecy already; the page you have proves it. For
he who bears the Red Star,
those things would happen. They happened and there is no way you can argue that. There is no way you can question that those things could have happened to someone else. They were too specific. It is not as if this is a string of extreme coincidences. These things are determined by powers beyond us. Hion Starseer,” he said as he looked up to the sky as if asking for forgiveness for using his name, “was First Knight of the Brotherhood of Seers. His ability is unmatched by anyone to date. I still do not know how you got a hold of that page, but you are meant to have it. Someone needed you to read it. You are the one who was born bearing the Mark of the Red Star. You are meant for great things, Brandon. Do not instill doubt in yourself.”

              Brandon zipped the tie closed on the overstuffed pack. It looked like a pillowcase with one too many pillows shoved inside it; its seams stretched at every stitch.

              “Maybe you are right, maybe you are not. It seems as if I am puppet being guided by someone else’s hand, but I do not believe you would do me harm. Let’s go old man, the sun will be rising shortly, and we have a long road ahead of us." He hit Edward on the shoulder with the flat of his hand, as his lips turned upwards into a small smile. Edward snatched up two more pieces of the cinnamon and raisin flatbread, and followed at Brandon’s heals.

              Edward closed the door behind him as they left the small farmhouse. The air held a chill from the night's last breath. Brandon walked over to the small stable house on the side of his property. Inside were two beautiful Friesian horses, a lighter colored black mare, and a jittery, dark black stallion. The horses seemed well taken care of; Edward could tell that their luxurious manes, tails, and feathered feet were often groomed. Edward smiled; their strong, driving and bearing hindquarters would be able cover a great deal of ground.

              “This is Baby,” Brandon said, throwing a saddle over the mare’s back, “and that’s Firecracker. His saddle is off to your left there. Can you get him ready to ride by yourself?”

              Edward nervously eyed the huge stallion. Having a name like Firecracker did not make him feel any better. He would have preferred a name like ‘Softy’ or ‘Not-going-to-kill-me’.

“Yes… I can get him ready,” he stuttered, wondering why
he
could not ride Baby.”

              “Yes, I can get him ready,” he stuttered. Edward wondered why
he
could not ride Baby. Brandon chuckled to himself as he saw Edward’s nervous anticipation.

              “Don’t worry Edward, he’s only bucked off two people,” Brandon said with a large smile on his face. Edward’s eyes got huge as they darted over to Brandon, the saddle frozen in his hands halfway up the horse’s back. Brandon laughed.

              “Don’t worry old man, he’s strong, but he’ll let you control him. Get that saddle up there; we’ve got riding to do." Brandon pulled on the billet strap, ensuring its tightness. The leather creaked with each pull.

              Edward mumbled under his breath as he got Firecracker ready to ride. Brandon mounted up on Baby, who pranced around impatiently, as Edward finished locking down the saddle. He shot an uneasy look at Brandon before he grabbed the saddle and threw his leg over the top. Firecracker lunged a step forward as he mounted, making Edward’s face turn ghost white. Brandon chuckled again.

              “Don’t forget Edward, you are his master, not the other way around. Take control or he’ll do what he wants to do.”

              Edward gave a quick, nervous nod.

              They walked the horses to the main city road and headed north. The sun began to peak its head up over the mountaintop and the town bustled with movement. Vendors stocked up their carts with their wares and shop owners unlocked their doors. No one paid any attention to the two riders as they traveled through.

              A few minutes into their ride, Brandon made Edward aware of men riding into town ahead of them. All four rode impressive stallions. Their warhorses, adorned in full battle armor, matched the armor worn by their riders. An embossed letter “R” crested each man’s pauldron. The man in the lead scanned the town with purpose as he talked to the men flanking his sides.

              “If we are attacked, we will have two breech points, the north gate behind us, which is unlikely, and the south gate, which is at the end of this road. If they march from Orlimay, we will be hit at the south gate. Keep in mind the border is only a half days ride to the south. Luckily, this town in not on the main roadways that lead from Orlimay to the cities northeast of us, and it has never been attacked before. We must get the provisions and gear ready for pickup. Setup a medic tent somewhere in the center of town. Let Mayor Hancock know that we have arrived and are grateful for his cooperation in this matter. We will do all we can to prevent any attacks against his city while this war is taking place. We should have more than enough men here to protect it.”

              His words fell into mumbles as they rode past, peeking Brandon’s curiosity.

              “Who was that? And I wonder what they are doing here?”

              Edward spoke as a teacher would. “Those are Lord Reinhold’s men. Did you see the crested “R” on their armor? From the sounds of it, Lord Reinhold is going to set station here. He must see this as a key point of interest for this war with Aurora. I cannot see the logic in that though, unless they plan to attack Orlimay, which certainly is not a good idea. Many other places would be easier to control. If Aurora wants to make it deep into our Kingdom, she would most likely head east along the Paraline River or west towards Jellindor." Edward shrugged.

              They rode past the two city guards standing at the north gate, giving them respective nods as they went out. Up ahead of them, the two men saw eight wagons connected to armored horses, and men bustled to their duties with purpose. A few mounted knights worked along the roadside, monitoring the actions of those on the ground. The knights watched the two men leaving the city gates. Wooden crates were stacked oddly next to the wagons, and piles of weapons, separated by type, lay about the ground around them. They sorted and prepared the items from the wagons. The knight in town talked about these men. Brandon counted at least sixty heads.

              As they strode forward another few yards, Edward stopped Brandon with the tips of his fingers on Brandon’s forearm.

              “Stop, something isn’t right. There’s danger here,” Edward whispered.

              “These men don’t mean us harm old man, you must be . . .”

              “No! It is not them I am worried about. I sense danger Brandon, and a Gifted,” he muttered under shallow breath. As soon as he spoke, armored fighters leaped from the tree line and sprang towards the caravan. The charging fighters were tall and lean, and were plated in armor from head to toe. They wielded long metal staves with sword-like blades on the end of them as they crashed into the unsuspecting knights, and they were women! With a loud bone-shattering crack, Brandon’s face met the end of a metal staff that toppled him over his horse. The spray of blood from Brandon’s nose skittered across Edward’s clothes. Hands slapped Edward in the chest and closed around his robe, pulling him off his horse and slamming him into the ground. The horses jumped at the ambush and bolted towards town. As Edward looked up, the blonde Maiden above him drew a short sword knocked at her belt.

              “Blade Maidens!” he yelled in total shock. Edwards’s eyes went to Brandon, who moaned on the ground. His hands clutched his nose as blood poured through his fingers. The red-haired maiden above Brandon raised her Maiden’s Blade high in the air, intent on beheading him. She slammed the blade down towards Brandon's neck.

Edward’s eyes closed tightly. He reached deep, pulling at the power that slept within him. He needed it now, more than ever. Beckoning its energy, the magical power awakened with renewed vigor. He looked at the blonde Maiden who pulled him off his horse. His mind connected with hers, as his magic took over. She felt her own thoughts vanish. A loud clang rang through the air. Edward looked up as the blonde Maiden thrust her sword, blocking the other’s blade from Brandon’s neck.

              “Jenna?” Lynn asked, questioning her sister’s actions. She showed surprise at the stopping of her kill.

              With a twisting of her waist, Jenna reared back and bashed the back of her armored hand into the Lynn’s face. With the hit, Lynn crashed into the ground, losing her blade. Jenna sprang towards the fallen Maiden, straddling her body with her legs. With a quick raise of her sword she attacked, arching it down into the dirt as Lynn twisted her head to the side, simultaneously sweeping Jenna’s legs out from under her. Lynn hammered her fist into Jenna’s chest as she hit the ground, making her whelp from the force. Lynn pulled a stiletto from her belt. She raised her hand to bring it down upon Jenna, but Jenna’s hand locked hard onto her wrist, and a frantic wrestle ensued. Jenna fought hard amidst yells of anger and questioning from her sister.

              Edward rolled quickly over towards Brandon.

              “Get up boy! Get up! We don’t have much more time!" He hooked his hand under Brandon’s armpit and helped him to his feet. The dust cloud from the fighting Maidens filled the air. Edward could hear the screams of dying men back towards the wagons.

              “C’mon boy! Move!" They scuttled towards their horses, which stopped about twenty paces off. Both of the horses, wide eyed with nervous excitement, pranced as if stepping on hot ground. Edward helped Brandon mount up, and threw his leg over Firecracker. He turned both horses to the east, but before he went, he glanced back at the brawling sisters, then towards Reinhold’s men. None of Reinhold’s men still stood; most sprawled across the ground in pools of their own blood. A few were bound and gagged. Edward could not see any dead Maidens. Standing in the middle of the road by the wagons, a lone Maiden stood with her fists on her hips, staring at the two of them. The wind flicked strands of her long blond hair across her face. Her glaring eyes struck at Edward; her grey, glaring eyes. Edward stared back at her momentarily.

              “Yaw!” he yelled at Firecracker as the heel of his boot spurred into the horse’s side. Firecracker jumped forward and burst into a full sprint. Brandon and Baby followed close behind them. As they trailed out of view, Jenna’s eyes refocused.

              “Stop! Stop! That was not me sister. Please! Stop! That was not me! He must have been gifted. I could see what I was doing, but I had no control over myself!” she said as she intercepted Lynn’s blade from colliding with her head. Her sister stared intently into Jenna’s eyes for a moment, and lowered her weapon. The grey-eyed master walked up behind them.

              “Jenna. Lynn. Get the rest of Reinhold’s men gathered up. Burn the wagons. Smash their extra weapons and armor and make sure nothing is left. Take the prisoners to the horses. We will make camp on our side of the border; Empress Aurora must know of this situation. You have twenty minutes. Don’t fail me,” she demanded as she stared off towards where Edward and Brandon had gone.

              The two women spoke in unison. “Yes, Commander General Lomire. Your wish is my command.”

              The reality of the war between the two kingdoms became strikingly real as Brandon and Edward rode from Greylin. The slight breeze made the day's heat bearable but the temperature kept rising. Neither of the men had a lot to say; thoughts of the day’s earlier events occupying their minds. Edward glanced over at Brandon. He could feel the waves of magic coming from him as he cupped his right hand over his broken nose. He pulled at his power, and healed himself. Edward could sense it.

              They had been keeping a hard pace; Baby and Firecracker still held a steady speed. Both men wanted to put as much distance between them and the Blade Maidens as possible. A foamy, white froth had gathered around the mouths of the horses, and they were sweating profusely, especially around the saddles. Edward flipped his head around, as he had been periodically doing since their encounter with the Blade Maidens, and surveyed the road and tree lines to see if anyone followed them. The sun sat motionless in the center of the sky, and heat rose from the road, making it appear to wiggle in long waves up ahead of them.

              “We have to stop Edward, we are pushing the horses too hard in this heat,” Brandon yelled up to Edward. Edward looked over at him, and agreed with a nod. The swelling in Brandon’s nose had vanished, along with the bruising, and the only remnants of damage were the traces of dried blood around the base of his nostrils.

              “Okay, there’s water through the trees off to our right,” Edward hollered back as he pulled on Firecracker’s reigns. “We can stop by the stream and let the horses rest there.”

              As Edward slowed, he yanked the reigns to his right, and led Firecracker off the shoulder of the road. Brandon trailed behind him, flanking up to march on Edward’s right side.

              “Pretty familiar with the lands, eh, old man? I’ve lived here my whole life and wasn’t aware of a stream over here,” Brandon said with a smile. Edward chuckled.

              “Ya know boy, for someone who is supposed to save the world, you sure don’t have a good memory. I’m a Sensor, remember?" Edward gave him a joking glare.

              “First of all, enough of that ‘save the world’ stuff. And you tell me that you are a Sensor, but I’ve never been educated on the different types of magic. I’m sorry, but I don’t know much about it, other than the small things that I can to do. No one has taught me; I learned by myself. I don’t really know what a Sensor is either. I assume it means that you can sense things, but I don’t understand how that works.”

              “Yes, I can sense things. I will tell you more about it tonight when we camp. Look, there’s the stream,” Edward said, pointing to the small stream up ahead.

              The stream, only a few feet wide and a foot deep, caught the attention of the horses as they approached. The air smelled fresh and clean. Lush green plants flowed over the banks up into the dirt where Edward and Brandon stood. The horses eagerly drank up the cool, fresh water. Brandon opened up the pack that hung on the side of his saddle, and pulled out two tin cups and a long piece of sausage wrapped in a thick, white cloth. He tossed a cup to Edward and broke off a few bites worth of sausage, putting the rest in Edward’s outstretched hand.

              “Thank you,” Edward said, with a small nod. Brandon sat down on the base of a fallen tree with a relieved sigh. Everything seemed peaceful here, as if nothing terrible went on anywhere else; birds chirped, and sounds of nature surrounded them. Brandon dipped his cup into the stream, and took a small bite of sausage.

              “It’s hard to believe there is a war going on right now. Look at the woods out here. They are beautiful. People are too caught up in the ugliness and brutality of war. They don’t realize what is given to us,” Brandon said, caught up himself in the beauty of the woodlands around them.

              “War is not always a mutual decision, son. War sometimes ends up on your doorstep, and you must fight back, or lose everything you have. Lord Reinhold wages war against Aurora because she has brought this fight to his territory. If he doesn’t stop her, she will kill countless numbers of people,
his
people; people who are honest, and work hard for a living, people with families. People like you, and me." Brandon watched Edward speak with understanding.

              “Aurora is out for no one but herself. She wants to rid the world of men,” Edward said, as he twirled his pointer finger in a circle into the air. “She’s crazy. Some horrific things happened to her when she was a little girl; things she was powerless against, but those events triggered the growth of her power and made her who she is today.”

              “What do you mean? Are you talking about her royalty, or her magical abilities? Wouldn’t both of those things be set at her birth? People cannot change their royalty or their ability to channel magic. I mean, I understand that your upbringing could make you do dark things, or vice versa, but why do you think she’d be any different if those horrible things didn’t happen to her? Is there something I’m missing?” Brandon questioned, unclear of what Edward implied.

              “Things would be altogether different today if her past was not written as it was." Edward looked off into the trees. He appeared deep in thought. “The horses have rested enough, let’s ride, and I’ll explain on the way." With that, Brandon gave an agreeing nod. They dipped their cups in the river one more time and finished off the last of their sausage as they mounted up. Brandon gave Baby a reassuring pat on the side of her neck. They walked the horses to the road and headed north, keeping a steady pace as Edward started explaining.

              “You first have to understand the way that magic works. This might be confusing, but I’ll do the best that I can to explain it to you. When the Gods created our world, they started with a single, blank palette. On that blank canvas, they drew our world, and wrote the rules of how things work. They colored in emotions, instincts, and primal urges. They added in everyone and everything that would live and thrive here. When they were done, they tore off an image of our world, almost like another world, and added different creatures and different rules to it. They did this multiple times. These mirrored palettes, some say, are other worlds, or other dimensions. Well, the tearing of the palettes created energy. That energy is what we call magic, and because it is tied in with everything created, some individuals are able to harness, control, and manipulate that energy." Edward looked over at Brandon to see if he followed him.

              “Okay, I’m with you so far.”

              “Man has catalogued the abilities of magic into three categories, or 'spheres,' if you will; Mind, Body, and Spirit. Each sphere controls different things, and different abilities and powers are born within each of these spheres. The three spheres are always depicted as three diamonds, each with four sides. One diamond is atop the other two forming an imaginary triangle, and all are encased within a circle. Each side of a diamond represents a different kind of power associated to its corresponding sphere. Where the common folk have minimal energy spread amongst the three spheres, the Gifted have that energy throughout these spheres in far greater density. Depending on which sphere, and which side of that sphere they are gifted in, determines what powers, or enhancements, they are able to manipulate or control." Edward paused, waiting to see if Brandon understood him.

              “Alright,” Brandon said. “Mind, body, and spirit. Each sphere has four types of powers associated with it, so they represent them with a diamond, because of its four sides. Then they put them all inside a circle. Got it.”

              “Good, you are right so far. Now, with each power, the ability to channel that power, and how much energy you have throughout that sphere, determines how much power, or control, you have with that magic. They rank it into classes. It starts at minimal power, which is classified as Class one, and goes all the way up to the most extreme and dangerous power, which falls into Class five. The majority of people that can channel fall into Class three or less. In all of Venifera, you could fit all of the Class four magic users into a single room, and you could count all the Class fives on less than one hand.”

              “Wow, okay…” Brandon whispered. “So, where does the evil queen fall in all of this?”

              “Well, Empress Aurora is gifted in the Mind sphere. The Mind sphere breaks into four categories: Psionics, Illusion, Elementalism, and Sensing, each represented by one side of the diamond. I am a Sensor, Class three, and a Psionicist, Class three. I have what is called “Control” of Mind, which is the ability to channel two sides of a magic sphere. Empress Aurora is a Psionicist.”

              Brandon interrupted him. “She is
just
a psionicist? Why don’t
you
kill her then? You are that and then some, right? You are a Sensor, too. I’m sure Reinhold would pay you dearly for helping him out. She’s crazy, you said so yourself.”

              Edward continued to look ahead at the road as he explained. “When Empress Aurora was a child, her mother took her to a training facility located close to where her castle now sits; her father was killed in the Ogre Wars before she was born. Through their tests, they categorized her as a Class three psionicist. Psionics refers to the psychic ability of using the mind to induce paranormal phenomena, like telepathy, telekinesis, and other workings of the outside world through the psyche. Psionicists can move things with their mind, like make things float, and so on. Her instructor, a man named Korgen Kitadal, another gifted psionicist, took her under his wing for training. He taught her how to use her powers, and how to make them grow. Everything was going well,” Edward paused a second, “until he broke every rule he pledged to uphold." Brandon’s eyes scrunched and he tilted his head sideways, in a questioning look.

“A year or so into her training, Korgen held a late night training session with Aurora. According to the record, as she was studying the pages of her training book, Korgen flipped the lock on the door. He came up from behind her, overpowered her, and had his way with her. No one was around to hear her screams. The next morning, a stable boy found her bleeding and naked body curled up in the corner of the school’s stable house; she was awake, but the shock of the incident sent her mind into submission. The lights were lit, but nobody was home. It was as if she was in a coma. Well, the Sensors and historians of the incident believe
that
is when it happened." Edward stopped talking.

              Brandon looked around. “That is when
what
happened?”

              “Aurora stayed comatose for eleven months. They were able to keep her alive with magic. They gave her fluid from tubes inserted into her arms. A lot of the documentation for this period was destroyed, but from what we have been able to find, the Sensors believe that the trauma of this horrible event sent a ripple through the barriers of her mind, opening all the doors that held everything together, all at once. The writings say that her mind sphere was a 'chaotic collapse of tremendous power.' When she awoke, all hell broke loose. They say that as she screamed with her first conscious breath, all of the windows of the training facility exploded. The ground shook with uncontrolled power. Her nose began bleeding. There was two male Sensors occupying her room and monitoring her health.” Edward paused again. “At some point within her coma, they believed she entered the fifth class of psionicism. The first male Sensor was found headless, as if his head exploded. The entire room was covered in the mess. The other Sensor tried to flee, but his skin was pulled from his bones as he ran.”

              “You have to be kidding me. Are you saying she did that?" Brandon asked in astonishment.

              “Yes, she used her new found gift.”

              “Gift? What about the other people of the school? What happened to them?" Brandon had a worried look on his face.

              “The exact details of the tragedy are unclear, but it was noted that Aurora walked out through the school, and slaughtered every male she saw. They were hopeless to fight her. Two Class four teachers, a shape shifter and an elementalist, were slain in the attempt to stop her. Trying to stop someone with that extreme of power is like trying to stop the world’s largest landslide when you are the size of a common house spider. The degrees of power above Class three do not jump in measurable stages, they are exponential. A Class four could potentially defeat a small army of Class threes, and a Class five is nearly unstoppable. There has never been a recorded instance of anyone defeating or controlling a Class five Gifted.”

              Brandon’s eyebrows scrunched down into a point, as he shook his head from side to side. “A Class five, huh? Wow. How is Lord Reinhold supposed to beat someone with that degree of power? I’ve heard a lot of great things about Cedric Reinhold, but not one saying
he
has that sort of power. Where do you think this war will go, and how long will it last?”

              Edward shrugged. “I’m not sure about the war, but Lord Cedric Reinhold is a brilliant battle tactician and strategist. You are right, he is not gifted, but with his skills, he does not need to be gifted to be a good ruler, or a worthy adversary in battle. What he lacks in magic, he excels in intelligence. He has the experience of battle; Aurora does not. She conquers with sheer numbers, or with hordes of the Gifted, but she does not have the war skills that Reinhold has been using. His wins are carefully calculated and precise. He picks his wins, and how he wins, carefully. He’s a brilliant man; a worthy adversary by all accounts of the word."