StarKeeper
The last of the Watch
The acrid smell of two dozen teenagers filled the small room as my classmates and I waited for our principal, Miss Apple, to finish droning. We’d heard the speech a thousand times of course, that every single one of us were complete and utter disappointments and that she felt nothing but embarrassment at our prospects. Of course, the vapid bitch had been directly responsible for our education in secondary school, so in a way, our shortcomings were her fault.
Today was the day of the Melee. A no holds bar clash between every magically gifted eighteen-year-old in the region that decided if you were worth the investment of higher education. Considering most of my class was ranked in the lower D ranks, powers levels far below the C ranks where most people our age resided, it was an inevitability that most of us would end up beginning our compulsory military service. As the sons and daughters of merchants, the senior class of The Erickson School for practical and magical education, we weren’t expected to possess any magical potency. A fact that our Principal never failed to remind us of.
As Miss Apple droned on about how most of us would be cleaning latrines for the next two years her Seer’s Mark glowed a bright green on her forehead. A Mark was the symbol inscribed upon every mage at birth and determined how an individual’s magic worked. Miss Apple’s Mark was the Mark of the Seer, a Mark that granted her the ability to see past illusion and directly see a person’s aura. The color of a person’s aura was the easiest way to determine a mage’s power class.
Miss Apple was, as she loved to brag, in the upper ranks of the B class of power. As a class B mage, Miss Apple was magnitudes stronger than her class of lowly D’s. Of course, I wasn’t a class D, but she didn’t need to know that just yet. A mage’s power was measured on a scale of classes ranging from F to double S class with nine ranks in every class.
My own mark, the Mark of the enchanter, glowed on my left palm as Miss Apple finished her lecture. She began calling students up for final inspections before being allowed on the teleport platform. When my turn came I approached Miss apple and her face contorted into a smug grin.
“Well look who it is,” She said as I stepped up to her. “My, my, my, what do we have here?”
She gestured to my equipment. I had spent the last month and my entire savings, meager as they were, on equipment for the Melee. I wore two metal gauntlets each enchanted with runes to cast focused bursts of kinetic force, my sword was a standard dueling blade I’d forged and enchanted in my forge, and my belt was lined with pouches containing an assortment of surprises for the other Melee combatants. If I was, in fact, a measly D this arsenal would have taken at least a year to put together.
“Mister Eaton,” Apple said, her eyes going misty as her Mark activated. “Now where in the world did you get all of those enchanted items?”
“I made them Ma’am.” I said giving her my best grin as she examined my aura.
The locket around my neck warmed as her gaze fell upon the false aura that hid my true aura. For most of my life my mother, an illusionist, had kept my aura hidden my true power level with her illusions. Whenever I asked why she would use the same excuse that she didn’t want to attract attention and that we had nothing to prove.
My working theory was that I was probably the bastard of a nobleman. Considering that I was apparently the only child in the Empire born without a father and my power rankings at birth were far too high for a commoner. As much as my mother insisted on keeping my true power ranking a secret she loved to gush about my level at birth. Though most people outside Nobility are born with a power level somewhere in the low F ranks, my power levels at birth were in the low C ranks. As far as I knew, only someone born into nobility could possess power levels like that at birth.
“Oh, really a D rank 3 made all of this with your meager amount of Mana,” Apple said a cackle escaping her thin lips. “Must have taken you the entire year to produce all of this. You know if you spent this energy focusing on your studies you might have amounted to something.”
The smile hurt on my lips as I strained to maintain composure. Thoughts of blasting her in the face with a force gauntlet filled my mind, but I forced the urge to maim the crone down. If only I could show her my actual aura than the vapid twit would stop chittering for once. But I couldn’t do that just yet, my whole strategy in the Melee depended on keeping my Aura hidden for as long as possible. As satisfying as it would be to put the crone in her place it paled in comparison to doing well in the Melee.
“Of course Miss Apple, as always your advice is just the best,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Perhaps you’re not as simple as I thought, Eaton,” Apple said before tapping her chin with one bony finger. “Didn’t your mother forbid you from participating in the Melee?”
“Oh, she changed her mind,” I replied. Truthfully my mother was halfway across the continent negotiating with a striking trade ship crew. It wasn’t so much that she changed her mind more than it was that she had no idea I was here.
“Really? Your mother doesn’t strike me as a woman who would change her opinion so easily” Apple said raising an eyebrow. “But if you wish to incur your mother’s wrath after being utterly decimated in the Melee so be it. Ascend the platform and join the other misfits and may the Mothers have mercy on your soul.”
I flashed her a fake smile and ascended the steps to the teleporter pad. Most of my class was already standing around nervously as the checked over their Marks and mismatched equipment. Despite most of the class coming from relatively wealthy merchant families, their equipment was substandard hand me downs. Considering most of us were just going to inherit the family shops and ships it was useless to invest in our magical education. A philosophy most of my class embraced considering that most hadn’t even bothered cleaning the rust off their weapons.
I came to stand next to Marcus Vexen, a short man with the same ashy black hair and pale skin we northerners shared. I had very few friends in school, interpersonal connections weren’t really my forte, and Erickson Academy wasn’t the kind of school that fostered goodwill among its students. Marcus though, he was probably the closest thing to a friend I had, which I realize is kind of sad considering I don’t think I’ve ever had a conversation longer than a few sentences with him.
Marcus nodded to me as I took my place in our class’s sloppy formation, and I noticed he wasn’t wearing boots. Instead, he wore very comfortable looking sandals.
“Not very sensible footwear for a Melee, Marcus,” I said.
“Hey, I figure if I’m going to get knocked off the platform, why deal with wet socks?” Marcus said with a shrug. “At least I’ll float. Rowan, it looks like you’re carrying an arsenal.”
“Preparation is the mother of victory.”
“You’re planning on winning?” Marcus asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m not planning on it. I’m expecting it.”
“Trying to skirt service by feigning insanity. Wish I’d thought of that.” Marcus said shaking his head.
As the last of my classmates joined our sloppy formation I felt the pad beneath us begin to vibrate at the teleportation enchantments charged. A green ring of light forms around us and the smell of ozone hit my nose. I rest a hand on the hilt of my sword and watch as Miss Apple makes a hand washing gesture before she turns to leave the room. With a whoosh of air, the room dissolved around us and was replaced by an open arena.
We found ourselves standing on the Melee Arena’s main platform on one of twenty teleportation pads that formed a circle on the main platforms edges. Around the platform was empty space, and even though I couldn’t see it I knew water awaited anyone who went over the side. I scanned the rows of seating all around us and saw a thin crowd of parents and teachers watching with vague disinterest as the other classes were teleported in on the other platforms. At the center of the platform hung a large number ten written in frozen fire; evidently, the countdown that would commence the Melee.
The goal of the Melee was to use our skills both magical and otherwise to incapacitate other combatants. Every combatant dispatched would count towards a total that would decide our final grade. I was barely a duelist, the only reason I had any skill with a blade was because my mother forced me to practice for an hour every day since I was six, but with my enchanted gear, I was confident I’d be able to Manage.
A barrier spell flickered around us keeping my classmates and me on the platform until it was time to begin. The Melee itself wouldn’t begin for another few minutes, so I decided to take in the competition. Each platform was packed with kids from all over the northern and northeastern territories. Unlike my classmates, whose parents had simply given them the cheapest equipment, our opponents wore new dueling vests and shining swords. The groups near us were already eyeing my class with predatory gazes. This was going to get very interesting very fast.
I looked across the sandy surface of the platform and spotted a group wearing the dueling uniform of Athen academy. Athen was the premier private school in the northeast region of Hellara, the opposite of my alma mater. The students on the teleporter pad stood with their backs to the rest of the platform and had their weapons drawn on a girl standing in the middle. A tall Karrocki girl stood at the center; inches from the drawn blades of her classmates.
The Karrocki were the strange dark-skinned people who occupied the eastern edges of Hellara. Most historians agreed the Karrocki had arrived on the continent at some point several centuries ago; fleeing a massive dust storm that had consumed their own homeland. When the glorious almost a god-emperor, Pious the First, made to annex the east for his fledgling empire he found the Karrocki waiting for him. It’s been said that the God Emperor chose wisely to ally with the Karrocki instead of trying to conquer them. Looking at the girl I could see why he did.
She was a prime specimen of the Karrocki people. Tall and confident with a strange predatory beauty that was obvious from even this distance. Her long raven black hair was tied back in a braid that swung back and forth in the wind. I spotted her Mark glowing on the umber skin of her neck, but I couldn’t quite make it out. I wondered why her entire class seemed to be turning on her, but then again, I was about throw my classmates under an auto-carriage, so.
A chime rang across the arena and the fiery ten at the center of the platform changed to a nine and then an eight. As the numbers began counting down I brought my hand up and wrapped it around the locket on my neck. My other hand gripped the hilt of my blade as my classmates turned to size each other up. Many drew their weapons while a few edged closer to the drop off apparently hoping for a quick way out of the Melee. The groups nearest to us were doing the same while also casting glances towards the other groups.
As the countdown reached five, I pulled the locket and broke the chain and as I ripped it off my neck my aura blazed green around me in a momentary corona. Marcus’s eyes widened as the smell of ozone filled the air and he turned to look at me. His gaze met mine and I winked as the countdown reached zero.
“You’re a b cla…” he began before I drew my sword and grabbed him by the collar.
Now I’m not a warrior. I spend most of my time tinkering with enchantments or in my forge hammering at metal, but years of metalworking had imbued my muscles with strength and endurance. I shifted my feet and threw Marcus into the cluster of my classmates behind me and fired a burst of kinetic force with one of my gauntlets. The blast collided with the sprawling Marcus and sent him crashing into my classmates sending most of them over the edge into the waters below.
I didn’t have time to celebrate my easy attack because a blade whizzed by my head. When my attacker attempted another swipe, I raised my blade and parried before kicking my assailant in the groin. He crumpled to his knees and Managed to yell out before I brought the pommel of my sword crashing into his temple. He fell to the ground unconscious, and I looked out at the battlefield before me.
It seemed to me that I stood in the eye of a storm. Magical energies collided and exploded as bolts of lightning clashed with blades of fire. Some fought with swords others with maces, but one thing was clear. This was all out war and it. Was. Glorious. I was just an enchanter, but something about the thrill of duking it out with another mage always got my blood boiling. I pumped Mana into my sword and watched as the force multiplier runes activated increasing the force of my attacks by a magnitude of ten.
I looked to my left and saw the remaining remnants of my class being dealt with by a group of three girls wielding glimmering maces. The Arsenal Mark glowed on their bodies like beacons as magical energy coated their skin like armor. The Arsenal Mark was so named because it gave the wielder the ability to shift their Mana into a physical state to forge temporary weapons and armor. A fascinating Mark by all accounts, but my academic interest in the Mark itself was somewhat tempered as a blade of pure Mana whizzed towards my head.
The three girls, all wearing the uniform of one of the church’s many girls only academies, glared at me as their maces burned bright in their hands. The one who threw the blade charged forward with her sisters in arms close behind and I draw a small silver disc from one of my pockets. I forced some of my Mana into the disc and flicked it across the ground. It bounced on the sand and with high ring stretched with every revolution.
The leader jumped over it when was still the size of a manhole, but her battle sisters weren’t so lucky. By the time they could react the disc had already expanded to a diameter of several feet and they landed hard on its metal surface. With a satisfying thud, the pair collided with the hard metal and were thrown by its spin. One skidded across the sand and crashed into another combatant while the other one was thrown off the platform altogether.
My victory was short lived however as their leader quickly regained her footing and had covered the distance between us in seconds. I raised my sword and blocked a brutal smashing attack that sent a stab of pain through my arm as our weapons met. Her mace flickered as she drew back for another attack and I slashed at her stomach. Even with my force multiplier enchantments my blade uselessly bounced off her stomach.
The girl brought the mace down and I brought my sword up, but I was a second too late as her mace knocked the blade from my hands. Her foot collided with my face and pain washed over my head as I was thrown backward. She brought the mace down again and I Managed to squeeze of a force blast from one of my gauntlets knocking the mace from her hands. It fell to the ground few yards behind her before disappearing in a burst of sparks.
“Oh, how I hate you fucking enchanters.” The girl said as a cutlass of Mana formed in her hand. “You must have thought you were so clever hiding your power level, eh? No matter how strong you are Enchanter, you’re still just Erickson trash.”
“M’lady you’ve already wounded my pride by disarming me.” I began, eyeing my blade behind the girl; slowly I put my left arm behind my back and began pouring my Mana into the gauntlet’s force rune. “Yet you have the gal to insult not only my Mark, but my school as well.”
“Save the noble speech for the water, Enchanter.” The girl said swiping at the air with her blade. “Say hello to your classmates for me.”
“Oh, come on we can talk this out,” I said sliding the now red-hot gauntlet of my wrist and grasping it in the still gauntleted hand. “You want a force Gauntlet? I’ll let you have it if you let me go.”
“So, this is what a worm looks like?” The girl said raising the blade above her head. “Bye Bye worm.”
“Catch,” I yelled throwing the glowing gauntlet at her.
Spinning around, I Managed to throw myself forward as the gauntlet exploded in a mushroom of force. The blast carried me forward and I crashed hard into the sand before skidding to a stop. Opening my eyes, I looked around and saw that I was now at the center of the platform and my last attacker was clinging to the edge of the platform; her energy cutlass buried in the sand. She shot me a glare before her weapon fizzled out and she fell out of sight.
My ears ringing, I stood and retrieved my sword. My left hand was lightly burned where the gauntlet had overcharged. Should have packed some healing salve I thought but no you needed to bring lightning stones. Looking around, I saw that most of the combatants were now locked in small clusters of fighting. All except one. The Karrocki girl stood at the center of her now prone classmates with her sword buried in the sand.
I was close enough to identify the Mark on her neck now, and when I identified it my stomach dropped. Her Mark was the Mark of the Summoner, one of the strongest combat Marks in existence. A summoner could create a bond with monsters magical or otherwise and draw on their powers and abilities. If the bond was strong enough the Summoner could even summon a temporary copy of the beast they’d bonded.
The girl’s eyes locked with mine and for a moment I paused, her eyes were the same shade of green as mine and my mother’s. A sense of déjà vu filled me then and something deep in my memory nagged at me like a half-forgotten tune. A sliver of ice slashed down my spine and I shook it away with a shudder.
She smirked and raised her sword into the air and started to swing it in slow circles. The wind picked up around her and a cone of wind slowly formed around her, picking up speed as she swung her blade. A harsh wind snapped out from the girl in a sweeping cyclone, and I barely had time to drive my sword into the sand before the gale became deafening. My fingers gripped the hilt of my blade as the wind sped up to cyclone strength and pulled me off my feet and into the air.
My fingers burned as they gripped the hilt of my blade and I yelled out in exertion. All around me random weapons and combatants flew as the cyclone raged. Some tried to grab at me but I was too low to the ground and their fingers barely grazed my clothes as they shot past and over the side of the platform. It took every ounce of strength I had to keep hold of the hilt, and when the cyclone ceased I fell into the sand pins and needles stabbing my arms.
I took a breath and shakily rose to my feet looking around. Bare sand sat all around me and my eyes soon found the only other combatant left. The Karrocki girl stood a half a hundred paces from me, her sword balanced against her shoulder. She regarded me with an amused look and watched as I picked myself up and plucked my sword from the sand. It took a few strong pulls, but as soon as I Managed to free it I raised it at her.
“I’ve heard that girls from the east were blowhards but this is ridiculous,” I said pumping Mana into my blade’s enchantments.
“Wow, I didn’t know a Northman could string a coherent sentence together.” The girl said with a grin as she readied her massive blade-wielding it effortlessly with one hand.
You know? I should probably be afraid of a girl who could wield a two-handed greatsword with one hand, but for some reason instead of fear, I felt anticipation as if I'd been waiting for this particular fight. My sword arm itched and confidence filled my chest as I sized the girl up. Regardless of her power level, I was ready for this fight.
“One question before we dance,” I said as we started to circle each other. “That attack was powered by a beast under your thrall, correct?”
“If you mean under a bond, yes.” The girl said with a wink. “Show me a good time and maybe you’ll meet her.”
“I just love meeting new people,” I said reaching down to grip one of the pouches on my belt. “My name’s Rowan by the way. Rowan Eaton.”
“Kella Blackfire.”
Shit.
The Blackfires were the oldest noble family in the east and the de facto liege lords of the minor Karrocki lords and ladies. An entire noble line directly descended from the Karrocki warriors who conquered the eastern wilds of Hellara; the Blackfires were said to possess extremely potent combat skills. If this girl was, in fact, a Blackfire than I had next to no chance in a straight sword fight. Of course, I didn’t exactly plan on giving her a straight fight.
“I don’t suppose you’re a C rank.” I said pulling the leather pouch from my belt.
“B rank 4, you?” Kella asked eyeing the pouch.
“B rank 2.” I admitted with a shrug as I lightly tossed the pouch up and down.
“Wow. That’s impressive for a commoner.” Kella said taking a step forward.
“I try,” I replied taking a step forward myself.
We each took another step forward and after a single second of silent bracing we each break into a run. The wind whips around Kella as she bounded across the sand, and I tossed the pouch at her sending a sliver of my Mana into as it left my hand. The leather burned away, and six bright blue crystals spiraled out of the burning mass before bursting into bolts of arcing electricity. The arcing bolts whipped around Kella and me, but as Kella made to turn her body away from the crackling energy I rushed forward.
I charged forward, ignoring the burning tongues licking my skin I brought my dueling sword down on her. Ignoring the burning pain as the electricity arced through me I felt my sword collide with hers and felt the power of the force multiplier runes send a wave of force into her sword. Kella stepped back awkwardly trying to raise her blade to block my next strike, but I Managed to drive the dull side of my sword into her temple.
She yelled out as the impact sent her sprawling. I raised my remaining force gauntlet and fired three quick bursts of force into her body. As they impacted, Kella was battered back to the edge of the platform and I yelled a war cry as I sprinted forward and used the momentum to back up my next strike. Her blade rose to block my attack and I felt the impact ring on my blade. As her blade locked with mine Kella looked up and smiled a predatory smile.
“Play time’s over.” She said through gritted teeth.
A cyclone of wind erupted from her blade and I was thrown backward as the torrent of wind circled around Kella. Her eyes glowed a bright yellow as a guttural roar shook the arena.
“GRRRRRRRROAAAOOOOWWWWW”
The cyclone lifted Kella into the air and beneath her feet, a massive draconic head began to materialize. Scales and feathers formed around an upper jaw lined with razor sharp teeth as Kella’s Mark burned with emerald light. Holy Mothers in heaven she was summoning something. If I had to guess, she was summoning a Mothers damned Air wyvern; an elemental beast.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I said backing up away from the slowly materializing monster.
I looked around frantically seeking any cover available but found nothing but flat sand. I briefly considered just jumping over the side to avoid being attacked by the elemental beast, but then Miss Apple’s smug decrepit face appeared in my vision and anger flowed into my mind like fuel into an engine. An idea formed in my mind’s eye, an idea so stupid it just might work. A wise man once said that brave act and stupid act were indistinguishable until the results of an action are known. Well, let’s hope I prove myself a wise man. I ran forward and jumped upward onto the now solidified snout of the wyvern and once I got my footing I ran at Kella. Our blades met with crushing force as my overloaded enchantments sparked and hissed.
“Are you insane?” Kella asked a laugh on her lips and a twinkle in her eye.
“No just desperate for attention,” I yelled back.
Then we fought. I’d like to say that I put up some valiant effort as we fought across the massive serpent’s back, but I was caught between fending off her strategic strikes and keeping my footing. As the beast materialized beneath us I had to split my attention between Kella and where I was placing my foot whereas Kella moved like she did this every day. The wind whipped around us as the massive serpent released its power to help its mistress, and Kella showed me exactly what she’d meant by “play time’s over”.
Her strikes were vicious and calculated. Every strike bore into me with killing intent and with a vicious strike she struck down at my side in a vertical arc that ripped through the pouches on my belt. The enchanted items I’d spent months working on fell from my belt and down into the void below. An ember of anger burst into an inferno in my and I screamed at her as I brought my blade crashing into hers. Metal locked with metal and for just a moment our eyes met. Two beautiful emerald globes looked at me with amusement and then surprise as my anger gave me a second wind.
Crackling bolts of Mana coiled around my sword turning the steel white hot as I poured every ounce of Mana into it. Kella Managed to block my blows but the sheer force of my attacks, augmented by the blade’s enchantments, were like a rocketing locomotive. She moved back with every blow, deflecting the force away with skillful pivots and sidesteps. Beneath our feet the Wyvern coiled and roared sending whips of air around us in a maelstrom of sound and fury.
My vicious advance continued for two more strikes than with a shattering crack I saw Kella’s blade impact my own cracking it in two. The angry firestorm was replaced with cold logic and understanding as the impossibly quiet seconds ticked by. I had poured far too much Mana into the sword’s enchantments and the steel had begun to warp and melt from the heat. All it took was the force of Kella’s counter strike to destroy it. I looked up and saw a devilish grin on Kella’s face, and she bowed her head slightly in mock respect before unleashing a flurry of blows.
It took all my concentration to block the attacks with my ruined sword. Every ounce of will was devoted to fending off her strikes, but it was a losing battle. She better than me, and was set on proving that point with shallow cuts into my arms and legs. Every strike was a taunting kiss of metal cutting skin, and I could barely focus as a barrage of small cuts blazed across my skin. I tried to block with my remaining force gauntlet and balked as Kella caught her blade in a cleft in the gauntlets plating and painfully ripped it off my hand. I barely had time to register the pain of the gauntlet being ripped from my wrist as Kella spun and brought the tip of her blade across my chest in an arc. Pain slashed through my body as I felt my skin open and a scream escaped my lips. In a panic, I stabbed forward with my ruined blade in a blind rush and felt the sword be kicked from my hand before another kick collided with the side of my head sending me flying off the wyvern’s side.
As I fell I opened my eyes and saw with a primal sense of fear the massive serpent’s maw was wide open below me. Complete and utter fear took me then; my heart stopped and for just a moment time did too. I pushed my hands out to try and grab the beast’s massive teeth as I fell into the black void of its maw. Then like an explosion, a raging fire burst to life in my chest and every ounce of Mana I had left flowed into my left arm banishing the fear in a wave of warm green light. For a single moment I and the rest of the world seemed to glow bright green and then that green glow wrapped around my left arm and burst from my Mark in a bolt of green lightning. My scream joined the crackling roar of the lightning bolt as it slammed into the wyvern’s waiting jaws. The lightning began to devour the Wyvern turning the beast’s powerful teeth and jaws into a crackling inferno of fire and lightning. A cyclone of ash and lightning wrapped around the beast’s body as it was devoured. I fell into this cloud and felt the ash and Mana flow into me through my Mark.
It felt like fire coursing through my veins filling every cell with wild burning energy. Every nerve was on fire as more Mana than I ‘d ever handled before flowed up my arm threatening to burn my muscles to ash. Yet, in that pain, I felt a pleasure I’d never experienced before sating a hunger I didn’t even know I had. Pure unadulterated power flowed into my Mana well in agonizing ecstasy filling me with hateful emerald light. I couldn’t tell if my screams were from the pain or the pleasure as that massive cloud of ash and Mana caressed me like a hateful lover.
With that power came knowledge. It filled my mind like half-forgotten memory returning after a bit of prodding. In that instant, I knew everything there was to know about the wyvern. I knew how its muscles were structured to the composition of its bones and its dietary habits. With startling clarity, I rode down into the creature’s very memory; I tasted the delicious lifeblood of prey and the strange taste of air Mana being sucked from the air. I could feel a strong dark-skinned hand guiding my face to water and eventually the owner of that hand standing above me to bind our souls together.
Then I was myself again and I was falling through the open air to the sand below me. With a sickening crack, I collided with the sand and skidded across the ground like a rock off the water. Pain shot through me and shook me to my bones and I almost vomited as the wind was knocked from my lungs. The ecstasy was banished by a wave of pain and confusion as my entire body screamed in pain. Then I heard the cracking sound and sat up.
A long jagged crack in the skin of my left arm that ran from my palm to the cleft of my arm. Not a cut or rip but a crack as if my skin were a porcelain plate slammed against a table. With detached curiosity, as if this was all just a hallucination, I ran my other hand up the crack and felt the skin give way as it cracked into a spider web. The crack spread out like a spider web and pure cold terror gripped my gut. My pale skin cracked and chipped away to reveal smooth umber skin. I opened my mouth to scream and I felt the skin of my face stiffen and shatter as my face contorted in horror. A fragment fell into my hand and a piece of my face stared up at me like a porcelain mask. A pair of boots appeared in my vision and I looked up to see Kella standing over me with a delirious smile on her lips.
“Impossible.” She said before her foot shot forward to throw me into darkness.
Today was the day of the Melee. A no holds bar clash between every magically gifted eighteen-year-old in the region that decided if you were worth the investment of higher education. Considering most of my class was ranked in the lower D ranks, powers levels far below the C ranks where most people our age resided, it was an inevitability that most of us would end up beginning our compulsory military service. As the sons and daughters of merchants, the senior class of The Erickson School for practical and magical education, we weren’t expected to possess any magical potency. A fact that our Principal never failed to remind us of.
As Miss Apple droned on about how most of us would be cleaning latrines for the next two years her Seer’s Mark glowed a bright green on her forehead. A Mark was the symbol inscribed upon every mage at birth and determined how an individual’s magic worked. Miss Apple’s Mark was the Mark of the Seer, a Mark that granted her the ability to see past illusion and directly see a person’s aura. The color of a person’s aura was the easiest way to determine a mage’s power class.
Miss Apple was, as she loved to brag, in the upper ranks of the B class of power. As a class B mage, Miss Apple was magnitudes stronger than her class of lowly D’s. Of course, I wasn’t a class D, but she didn’t need to know that just yet. A mage’s power was measured on a scale of classes ranging from F to double S class with nine ranks in every class.
My own mark, the Mark of the enchanter, glowed on my left palm as Miss Apple finished her lecture. She began calling students up for final inspections before being allowed on the teleport platform. When my turn came I approached Miss apple and her face contorted into a smug grin.
“Well look who it is,” She said as I stepped up to her. “My, my, my, what do we have here?”
She gestured to my equipment. I had spent the last month and my entire savings, meager as they were, on equipment for the Melee. I wore two metal gauntlets each enchanted with runes to cast focused bursts of kinetic force, my sword was a standard dueling blade I’d forged and enchanted in my forge, and my belt was lined with pouches containing an assortment of surprises for the other Melee combatants. If I was, in fact, a measly D this arsenal would have taken at least a year to put together.
“Mister Eaton,” Apple said, her eyes going misty as her Mark activated. “Now where in the world did you get all of those enchanted items?”
“I made them Ma’am.” I said giving her my best grin as she examined my aura.
The locket around my neck warmed as her gaze fell upon the false aura that hid my true aura. For most of my life my mother, an illusionist, had kept my aura hidden my true power level with her illusions. Whenever I asked why she would use the same excuse that she didn’t want to attract attention and that we had nothing to prove.
My working theory was that I was probably the bastard of a nobleman. Considering that I was apparently the only child in the Empire born without a father and my power rankings at birth were far too high for a commoner. As much as my mother insisted on keeping my true power ranking a secret she loved to gush about my level at birth. Though most people outside Nobility are born with a power level somewhere in the low F ranks, my power levels at birth were in the low C ranks. As far as I knew, only someone born into nobility could possess power levels like that at birth.
“Oh, really a D rank 3 made all of this with your meager amount of Mana,” Apple said a cackle escaping her thin lips. “Must have taken you the entire year to produce all of this. You know if you spent this energy focusing on your studies you might have amounted to something.”
The smile hurt on my lips as I strained to maintain composure. Thoughts of blasting her in the face with a force gauntlet filled my mind, but I forced the urge to maim the crone down. If only I could show her my actual aura than the vapid twit would stop chittering for once. But I couldn’t do that just yet, my whole strategy in the Melee depended on keeping my Aura hidden for as long as possible. As satisfying as it would be to put the crone in her place it paled in comparison to doing well in the Melee.
“Of course Miss Apple, as always your advice is just the best,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Perhaps you’re not as simple as I thought, Eaton,” Apple said before tapping her chin with one bony finger. “Didn’t your mother forbid you from participating in the Melee?”
“Oh, she changed her mind,” I replied. Truthfully my mother was halfway across the continent negotiating with a striking trade ship crew. It wasn’t so much that she changed her mind more than it was that she had no idea I was here.
“Really? Your mother doesn’t strike me as a woman who would change her opinion so easily” Apple said raising an eyebrow. “But if you wish to incur your mother’s wrath after being utterly decimated in the Melee so be it. Ascend the platform and join the other misfits and may the Mothers have mercy on your soul.”
I flashed her a fake smile and ascended the steps to the teleporter pad. Most of my class was already standing around nervously as the checked over their Marks and mismatched equipment. Despite most of the class coming from relatively wealthy merchant families, their equipment was substandard hand me downs. Considering most of us were just going to inherit the family shops and ships it was useless to invest in our magical education. A philosophy most of my class embraced considering that most hadn’t even bothered cleaning the rust off their weapons.
I came to stand next to Marcus Vexen, a short man with the same ashy black hair and pale skin we northerners shared. I had very few friends in school, interpersonal connections weren’t really my forte, and Erickson Academy wasn’t the kind of school that fostered goodwill among its students. Marcus though, he was probably the closest thing to a friend I had, which I realize is kind of sad considering I don’t think I’ve ever had a conversation longer than a few sentences with him.
Marcus nodded to me as I took my place in our class’s sloppy formation, and I noticed he wasn’t wearing boots. Instead, he wore very comfortable looking sandals.
“Not very sensible footwear for a Melee, Marcus,” I said.
“Hey, I figure if I’m going to get knocked off the platform, why deal with wet socks?” Marcus said with a shrug. “At least I’ll float. Rowan, it looks like you’re carrying an arsenal.”
“Preparation is the mother of victory.”
“You’re planning on winning?” Marcus asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m not planning on it. I’m expecting it.”
“Trying to skirt service by feigning insanity. Wish I’d thought of that.” Marcus said shaking his head.
As the last of my classmates joined our sloppy formation I felt the pad beneath us begin to vibrate at the teleportation enchantments charged. A green ring of light forms around us and the smell of ozone hit my nose. I rest a hand on the hilt of my sword and watch as Miss Apple makes a hand washing gesture before she turns to leave the room. With a whoosh of air, the room dissolved around us and was replaced by an open arena.
We found ourselves standing on the Melee Arena’s main platform on one of twenty teleportation pads that formed a circle on the main platforms edges. Around the platform was empty space, and even though I couldn’t see it I knew water awaited anyone who went over the side. I scanned the rows of seating all around us and saw a thin crowd of parents and teachers watching with vague disinterest as the other classes were teleported in on the other platforms. At the center of the platform hung a large number ten written in frozen fire; evidently, the countdown that would commence the Melee.
The goal of the Melee was to use our skills both magical and otherwise to incapacitate other combatants. Every combatant dispatched would count towards a total that would decide our final grade. I was barely a duelist, the only reason I had any skill with a blade was because my mother forced me to practice for an hour every day since I was six, but with my enchanted gear, I was confident I’d be able to Manage.
A barrier spell flickered around us keeping my classmates and me on the platform until it was time to begin. The Melee itself wouldn’t begin for another few minutes, so I decided to take in the competition. Each platform was packed with kids from all over the northern and northeastern territories. Unlike my classmates, whose parents had simply given them the cheapest equipment, our opponents wore new dueling vests and shining swords. The groups near us were already eyeing my class with predatory gazes. This was going to get very interesting very fast.
I looked across the sandy surface of the platform and spotted a group wearing the dueling uniform of Athen academy. Athen was the premier private school in the northeast region of Hellara, the opposite of my alma mater. The students on the teleporter pad stood with their backs to the rest of the platform and had their weapons drawn on a girl standing in the middle. A tall Karrocki girl stood at the center; inches from the drawn blades of her classmates.
The Karrocki were the strange dark-skinned people who occupied the eastern edges of Hellara. Most historians agreed the Karrocki had arrived on the continent at some point several centuries ago; fleeing a massive dust storm that had consumed their own homeland. When the glorious almost a god-emperor, Pious the First, made to annex the east for his fledgling empire he found the Karrocki waiting for him. It’s been said that the God Emperor chose wisely to ally with the Karrocki instead of trying to conquer them. Looking at the girl I could see why he did.
She was a prime specimen of the Karrocki people. Tall and confident with a strange predatory beauty that was obvious from even this distance. Her long raven black hair was tied back in a braid that swung back and forth in the wind. I spotted her Mark glowing on the umber skin of her neck, but I couldn’t quite make it out. I wondered why her entire class seemed to be turning on her, but then again, I was about throw my classmates under an auto-carriage, so.
A chime rang across the arena and the fiery ten at the center of the platform changed to a nine and then an eight. As the numbers began counting down I brought my hand up and wrapped it around the locket on my neck. My other hand gripped the hilt of my blade as my classmates turned to size each other up. Many drew their weapons while a few edged closer to the drop off apparently hoping for a quick way out of the Melee. The groups nearest to us were doing the same while also casting glances towards the other groups.
As the countdown reached five, I pulled the locket and broke the chain and as I ripped it off my neck my aura blazed green around me in a momentary corona. Marcus’s eyes widened as the smell of ozone filled the air and he turned to look at me. His gaze met mine and I winked as the countdown reached zero.
“You’re a b cla…” he began before I drew my sword and grabbed him by the collar.
Now I’m not a warrior. I spend most of my time tinkering with enchantments or in my forge hammering at metal, but years of metalworking had imbued my muscles with strength and endurance. I shifted my feet and threw Marcus into the cluster of my classmates behind me and fired a burst of kinetic force with one of my gauntlets. The blast collided with the sprawling Marcus and sent him crashing into my classmates sending most of them over the edge into the waters below.
I didn’t have time to celebrate my easy attack because a blade whizzed by my head. When my attacker attempted another swipe, I raised my blade and parried before kicking my assailant in the groin. He crumpled to his knees and Managed to yell out before I brought the pommel of my sword crashing into his temple. He fell to the ground unconscious, and I looked out at the battlefield before me.
It seemed to me that I stood in the eye of a storm. Magical energies collided and exploded as bolts of lightning clashed with blades of fire. Some fought with swords others with maces, but one thing was clear. This was all out war and it. Was. Glorious. I was just an enchanter, but something about the thrill of duking it out with another mage always got my blood boiling. I pumped Mana into my sword and watched as the force multiplier runes activated increasing the force of my attacks by a magnitude of ten.
I looked to my left and saw the remaining remnants of my class being dealt with by a group of three girls wielding glimmering maces. The Arsenal Mark glowed on their bodies like beacons as magical energy coated their skin like armor. The Arsenal Mark was so named because it gave the wielder the ability to shift their Mana into a physical state to forge temporary weapons and armor. A fascinating Mark by all accounts, but my academic interest in the Mark itself was somewhat tempered as a blade of pure Mana whizzed towards my head.
The three girls, all wearing the uniform of one of the church’s many girls only academies, glared at me as their maces burned bright in their hands. The one who threw the blade charged forward with her sisters in arms close behind and I draw a small silver disc from one of my pockets. I forced some of my Mana into the disc and flicked it across the ground. It bounced on the sand and with high ring stretched with every revolution.
The leader jumped over it when was still the size of a manhole, but her battle sisters weren’t so lucky. By the time they could react the disc had already expanded to a diameter of several feet and they landed hard on its metal surface. With a satisfying thud, the pair collided with the hard metal and were thrown by its spin. One skidded across the sand and crashed into another combatant while the other one was thrown off the platform altogether.
My victory was short lived however as their leader quickly regained her footing and had covered the distance between us in seconds. I raised my sword and blocked a brutal smashing attack that sent a stab of pain through my arm as our weapons met. Her mace flickered as she drew back for another attack and I slashed at her stomach. Even with my force multiplier enchantments my blade uselessly bounced off her stomach.
The girl brought the mace down and I brought my sword up, but I was a second too late as her mace knocked the blade from my hands. Her foot collided with my face and pain washed over my head as I was thrown backward. She brought the mace down again and I Managed to squeeze of a force blast from one of my gauntlets knocking the mace from her hands. It fell to the ground few yards behind her before disappearing in a burst of sparks.
“Oh, how I hate you fucking enchanters.” The girl said as a cutlass of Mana formed in her hand. “You must have thought you were so clever hiding your power level, eh? No matter how strong you are Enchanter, you’re still just Erickson trash.”
“M’lady you’ve already wounded my pride by disarming me.” I began, eyeing my blade behind the girl; slowly I put my left arm behind my back and began pouring my Mana into the gauntlet’s force rune. “Yet you have the gal to insult not only my Mark, but my school as well.”
“Save the noble speech for the water, Enchanter.” The girl said swiping at the air with her blade. “Say hello to your classmates for me.”
“Oh, come on we can talk this out,” I said sliding the now red-hot gauntlet of my wrist and grasping it in the still gauntleted hand. “You want a force Gauntlet? I’ll let you have it if you let me go.”
“So, this is what a worm looks like?” The girl said raising the blade above her head. “Bye Bye worm.”
“Catch,” I yelled throwing the glowing gauntlet at her.
Spinning around, I Managed to throw myself forward as the gauntlet exploded in a mushroom of force. The blast carried me forward and I crashed hard into the sand before skidding to a stop. Opening my eyes, I looked around and saw that I was now at the center of the platform and my last attacker was clinging to the edge of the platform; her energy cutlass buried in the sand. She shot me a glare before her weapon fizzled out and she fell out of sight.
My ears ringing, I stood and retrieved my sword. My left hand was lightly burned where the gauntlet had overcharged. Should have packed some healing salve I thought but no you needed to bring lightning stones. Looking around, I saw that most of the combatants were now locked in small clusters of fighting. All except one. The Karrocki girl stood at the center of her now prone classmates with her sword buried in the sand.
I was close enough to identify the Mark on her neck now, and when I identified it my stomach dropped. Her Mark was the Mark of the Summoner, one of the strongest combat Marks in existence. A summoner could create a bond with monsters magical or otherwise and draw on their powers and abilities. If the bond was strong enough the Summoner could even summon a temporary copy of the beast they’d bonded.
The girl’s eyes locked with mine and for a moment I paused, her eyes were the same shade of green as mine and my mother’s. A sense of déjà vu filled me then and something deep in my memory nagged at me like a half-forgotten tune. A sliver of ice slashed down my spine and I shook it away with a shudder.
She smirked and raised her sword into the air and started to swing it in slow circles. The wind picked up around her and a cone of wind slowly formed around her, picking up speed as she swung her blade. A harsh wind snapped out from the girl in a sweeping cyclone, and I barely had time to drive my sword into the sand before the gale became deafening. My fingers gripped the hilt of my blade as the wind sped up to cyclone strength and pulled me off my feet and into the air.
My fingers burned as they gripped the hilt of my blade and I yelled out in exertion. All around me random weapons and combatants flew as the cyclone raged. Some tried to grab at me but I was too low to the ground and their fingers barely grazed my clothes as they shot past and over the side of the platform. It took every ounce of strength I had to keep hold of the hilt, and when the cyclone ceased I fell into the sand pins and needles stabbing my arms.
I took a breath and shakily rose to my feet looking around. Bare sand sat all around me and my eyes soon found the only other combatant left. The Karrocki girl stood a half a hundred paces from me, her sword balanced against her shoulder. She regarded me with an amused look and watched as I picked myself up and plucked my sword from the sand. It took a few strong pulls, but as soon as I Managed to free it I raised it at her.
“I’ve heard that girls from the east were blowhards but this is ridiculous,” I said pumping Mana into my blade’s enchantments.
“Wow, I didn’t know a Northman could string a coherent sentence together.” The girl said with a grin as she readied her massive blade-wielding it effortlessly with one hand.
You know? I should probably be afraid of a girl who could wield a two-handed greatsword with one hand, but for some reason instead of fear, I felt anticipation as if I'd been waiting for this particular fight. My sword arm itched and confidence filled my chest as I sized the girl up. Regardless of her power level, I was ready for this fight.
“One question before we dance,” I said as we started to circle each other. “That attack was powered by a beast under your thrall, correct?”
“If you mean under a bond, yes.” The girl said with a wink. “Show me a good time and maybe you’ll meet her.”
“I just love meeting new people,” I said reaching down to grip one of the pouches on my belt. “My name’s Rowan by the way. Rowan Eaton.”
“Kella Blackfire.”
Shit.
The Blackfires were the oldest noble family in the east and the de facto liege lords of the minor Karrocki lords and ladies. An entire noble line directly descended from the Karrocki warriors who conquered the eastern wilds of Hellara; the Blackfires were said to possess extremely potent combat skills. If this girl was, in fact, a Blackfire than I had next to no chance in a straight sword fight. Of course, I didn’t exactly plan on giving her a straight fight.
“I don’t suppose you’re a C rank.” I said pulling the leather pouch from my belt.
“B rank 4, you?” Kella asked eyeing the pouch.
“B rank 2.” I admitted with a shrug as I lightly tossed the pouch up and down.
“Wow. That’s impressive for a commoner.” Kella said taking a step forward.
“I try,” I replied taking a step forward myself.
We each took another step forward and after a single second of silent bracing we each break into a run. The wind whips around Kella as she bounded across the sand, and I tossed the pouch at her sending a sliver of my Mana into as it left my hand. The leather burned away, and six bright blue crystals spiraled out of the burning mass before bursting into bolts of arcing electricity. The arcing bolts whipped around Kella and me, but as Kella made to turn her body away from the crackling energy I rushed forward.
I charged forward, ignoring the burning tongues licking my skin I brought my dueling sword down on her. Ignoring the burning pain as the electricity arced through me I felt my sword collide with hers and felt the power of the force multiplier runes send a wave of force into her sword. Kella stepped back awkwardly trying to raise her blade to block my next strike, but I Managed to drive the dull side of my sword into her temple.
She yelled out as the impact sent her sprawling. I raised my remaining force gauntlet and fired three quick bursts of force into her body. As they impacted, Kella was battered back to the edge of the platform and I yelled a war cry as I sprinted forward and used the momentum to back up my next strike. Her blade rose to block my attack and I felt the impact ring on my blade. As her blade locked with mine Kella looked up and smiled a predatory smile.
“Play time’s over.” She said through gritted teeth.
A cyclone of wind erupted from her blade and I was thrown backward as the torrent of wind circled around Kella. Her eyes glowed a bright yellow as a guttural roar shook the arena.
“GRRRRRRRROAAAOOOOWWWWW”
The cyclone lifted Kella into the air and beneath her feet, a massive draconic head began to materialize. Scales and feathers formed around an upper jaw lined with razor sharp teeth as Kella’s Mark burned with emerald light. Holy Mothers in heaven she was summoning something. If I had to guess, she was summoning a Mothers damned Air wyvern; an elemental beast.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I said backing up away from the slowly materializing monster.
I looked around frantically seeking any cover available but found nothing but flat sand. I briefly considered just jumping over the side to avoid being attacked by the elemental beast, but then Miss Apple’s smug decrepit face appeared in my vision and anger flowed into my mind like fuel into an engine. An idea formed in my mind’s eye, an idea so stupid it just might work. A wise man once said that brave act and stupid act were indistinguishable until the results of an action are known. Well, let’s hope I prove myself a wise man. I ran forward and jumped upward onto the now solidified snout of the wyvern and once I got my footing I ran at Kella. Our blades met with crushing force as my overloaded enchantments sparked and hissed.
“Are you insane?” Kella asked a laugh on her lips and a twinkle in her eye.
“No just desperate for attention,” I yelled back.
Then we fought. I’d like to say that I put up some valiant effort as we fought across the massive serpent’s back, but I was caught between fending off her strategic strikes and keeping my footing. As the beast materialized beneath us I had to split my attention between Kella and where I was placing my foot whereas Kella moved like she did this every day. The wind whipped around us as the massive serpent released its power to help its mistress, and Kella showed me exactly what she’d meant by “play time’s over”.
Her strikes were vicious and calculated. Every strike bore into me with killing intent and with a vicious strike she struck down at my side in a vertical arc that ripped through the pouches on my belt. The enchanted items I’d spent months working on fell from my belt and down into the void below. An ember of anger burst into an inferno in my and I screamed at her as I brought my blade crashing into hers. Metal locked with metal and for just a moment our eyes met. Two beautiful emerald globes looked at me with amusement and then surprise as my anger gave me a second wind.
Crackling bolts of Mana coiled around my sword turning the steel white hot as I poured every ounce of Mana into it. Kella Managed to block my blows but the sheer force of my attacks, augmented by the blade’s enchantments, were like a rocketing locomotive. She moved back with every blow, deflecting the force away with skillful pivots and sidesteps. Beneath our feet the Wyvern coiled and roared sending whips of air around us in a maelstrom of sound and fury.
My vicious advance continued for two more strikes than with a shattering crack I saw Kella’s blade impact my own cracking it in two. The angry firestorm was replaced with cold logic and understanding as the impossibly quiet seconds ticked by. I had poured far too much Mana into the sword’s enchantments and the steel had begun to warp and melt from the heat. All it took was the force of Kella’s counter strike to destroy it. I looked up and saw a devilish grin on Kella’s face, and she bowed her head slightly in mock respect before unleashing a flurry of blows.
It took all my concentration to block the attacks with my ruined sword. Every ounce of will was devoted to fending off her strikes, but it was a losing battle. She better than me, and was set on proving that point with shallow cuts into my arms and legs. Every strike was a taunting kiss of metal cutting skin, and I could barely focus as a barrage of small cuts blazed across my skin. I tried to block with my remaining force gauntlet and balked as Kella caught her blade in a cleft in the gauntlets plating and painfully ripped it off my hand. I barely had time to register the pain of the gauntlet being ripped from my wrist as Kella spun and brought the tip of her blade across my chest in an arc. Pain slashed through my body as I felt my skin open and a scream escaped my lips. In a panic, I stabbed forward with my ruined blade in a blind rush and felt the sword be kicked from my hand before another kick collided with the side of my head sending me flying off the wyvern’s side.
As I fell I opened my eyes and saw with a primal sense of fear the massive serpent’s maw was wide open below me. Complete and utter fear took me then; my heart stopped and for just a moment time did too. I pushed my hands out to try and grab the beast’s massive teeth as I fell into the black void of its maw. Then like an explosion, a raging fire burst to life in my chest and every ounce of Mana I had left flowed into my left arm banishing the fear in a wave of warm green light. For a single moment I and the rest of the world seemed to glow bright green and then that green glow wrapped around my left arm and burst from my Mark in a bolt of green lightning. My scream joined the crackling roar of the lightning bolt as it slammed into the wyvern’s waiting jaws. The lightning began to devour the Wyvern turning the beast’s powerful teeth and jaws into a crackling inferno of fire and lightning. A cyclone of ash and lightning wrapped around the beast’s body as it was devoured. I fell into this cloud and felt the ash and Mana flow into me through my Mark.
It felt like fire coursing through my veins filling every cell with wild burning energy. Every nerve was on fire as more Mana than I ‘d ever handled before flowed up my arm threatening to burn my muscles to ash. Yet, in that pain, I felt a pleasure I’d never experienced before sating a hunger I didn’t even know I had. Pure unadulterated power flowed into my Mana well in agonizing ecstasy filling me with hateful emerald light. I couldn’t tell if my screams were from the pain or the pleasure as that massive cloud of ash and Mana caressed me like a hateful lover.
With that power came knowledge. It filled my mind like half-forgotten memory returning after a bit of prodding. In that instant, I knew everything there was to know about the wyvern. I knew how its muscles were structured to the composition of its bones and its dietary habits. With startling clarity, I rode down into the creature’s very memory; I tasted the delicious lifeblood of prey and the strange taste of air Mana being sucked from the air. I could feel a strong dark-skinned hand guiding my face to water and eventually the owner of that hand standing above me to bind our souls together.
Then I was myself again and I was falling through the open air to the sand below me. With a sickening crack, I collided with the sand and skidded across the ground like a rock off the water. Pain shot through me and shook me to my bones and I almost vomited as the wind was knocked from my lungs. The ecstasy was banished by a wave of pain and confusion as my entire body screamed in pain. Then I heard the cracking sound and sat up.
A long jagged crack in the skin of my left arm that ran from my palm to the cleft of my arm. Not a cut or rip but a crack as if my skin were a porcelain plate slammed against a table. With detached curiosity, as if this was all just a hallucination, I ran my other hand up the crack and felt the skin give way as it cracked into a spider web. The crack spread out like a spider web and pure cold terror gripped my gut. My pale skin cracked and chipped away to reveal smooth umber skin. I opened my mouth to scream and I felt the skin of my face stiffen and shatter as my face contorted in horror. A fragment fell into my hand and a piece of my face stared up at me like a porcelain mask. A pair of boots appeared in my vision and I looked up to see Kella standing over me with a delirious smile on her lips.
“Impossible.” She said before her foot shot forward to throw me into darkness.
