by Jaxon Reed
“Really? Well, I have. All my life I’ve prepared myself for joining Dungeon Corps. This is my goal. And I’m here! My first morning!”
Tawny could not help but smile at his boyish enthusiasm. Toby smiled too, and promptly stood up to grab some more pancakes.
She said, “My brother and I . . . well, we were not really planning on joining Dungeon Corps. We got here, to Phanos, and sort of ran out of money. No one really wants to hire us. So . . . one thing led to another and here we are. Signed up for a year.”
Erik raised his eyebrows. “Really? I can’t imagine anyone being here by accident. I’ve wanted to join since I was little.”
A short girl in an unbleached cotton shift covering her from neck to feet sat down at their table. She looked over at them shyly, then cut into her stack of pancakes.
She said, “I’m here by accident. Or at least, I didn’t plan on being here.”
Erik said. “Oh. Well, I guess my world is expanding then. Hi, I’m Erik.”
“I’m Nessa.”
“You’re a cleric,” Erik said.
Nessa blushed and nodded.
Erik said, “That’s good!”
He turned to Tawny and said, “This is one of those rare healers I was talking about.”
“Oh, I can’t heal,” Nessa said. “Not yet, anyway. I only know a couple of spells, and neither one is very useful.”
“So, why are you here?” Tawny said, curiosity creeping into her voice.
“I . . . had a boyfriend,” Nessa said, looking down at her plate. “And, that’s not allowed. We got caught . . . so here I am.”
“That’s rough,” Tawny said as Toby came back to the table, his plate piled high with food. He began chomping down on pancakes at a rapid pace.
In a spirit of confession Tawny said, “We were ‘encouraged’ to join after getting caught trying to rob a lady’s coach.”
Erik and Nessa stared at her, their eyes widening.
Tawny shrugged. She said, “We were desperate. He eats a lot.”
Toby smiled at them, his cheeks bulging.
“Alright, everybody!”
They turned at the sound of Dunken’s voice near the front of the room.
“If all new recruits will finish eating and join us out in the courtyard in a few minutes, we will begin your formal assessment.”
Percel came downstairs from one of the private rooms afforded to veterans. Bleary eyed, he made his way to the food counter and took a cup of tea, then grabbed a pastry. He ate standing up, squinting in the light.
Dunken moved over to join him.
“Lord Percel! I did not get a chance to give you a proper welcome last night.”
Percel grunted, his mouth full of food.
“Do you have any plans? How long do you think you’ll be staying, if I might ask?”
Percel grunted again, noncommittally, and washed down the pastry with a long sip of tea.
“Would you like to help assess our new recruits this morning?”
That stirred a faint glimmer of interest in the old curmudgeon. His eyebrows twitched up and he said, “Aye.”
-+-
Out in the courtyard Erik spied wooden practice swords and shields. He looked up at Toby, who smiled down at him while wiping food off his face.
“Come on, big guy. Let’s grab the toy weapons and play for a bit.”
Toby slowly followed him and other young people heading toward the sword area.
A man inspecting the weapons turned as everyone approached. He stood tall, with broad shoulders and muscular arms. His thick brown hair was cut the same length all the way around his head, like a bowl.
“Hallo! My name is Clencher. Fancy some swordplay? Let’s see what you got!”
Nessa and Tawny walked out in the courtyard together along with several other people. They watched the boys for a moment.
Erik assumed a pose and took a few experimental swipes with Clencher.
Clencher said, “Aha! I see you’ve had some training, ay?”
Toby watched them with a big smile on his face, his wooden sword dangling from one hand, the tip scraping the ground.
The girls exchanged a glance with one another and smiled.
“Boys and their swords,” Tawny said.
Nessa said, “You’re a caster.”
“Why does everybody keep saying that? It’s the eyes, isn’t it?”
Nessa nodded shyly and said, “I think the lady over there is waiting for us.”
They joined another group of young men and women heading toward a tall older woman wearing her hair in a tight bun. Her small eyes looked too narrowly spaced. They were squeezed together on either side of a long thin nose, giving her face an elongated look.
The lady addressed the young men and women gathering around her.
She said, “I am Norra. I am in charge of magical training for Dungeon Corps in Phanos. Those of you I have met previously, continue the tasks I assigned you. If this is your first day, please stay here.”
Most of the young people moved away, finding solitary spots to practice casting spells. Lights and sounds soon crackled around the courtyard, along with mystical winds and the occasional flash of lightning.
Norra looked over those remaining. She said, “Ah! An elf. Welcome, welcome. And I see we have a cleric! This is wonderful! Let’s see what you both can do.”
In short order, Norra found Tawny brimming with talent but still young and “unfocused,” whatever that meant.
Nessa, on the other hand, she deemed woefully inadequate despite serving as a cleric. Norra put the other new people to work, showing them tasks to concentrate on and sending them to their own private spots in the courtyard for practice. Then she turned back to her two most promising pupils.
She said to Tawny, “Hit me with your most powerful spell.”
-+-
Percel wandered around the courtyard, eyeing each new recruit. When he came to Clencher, he watched the tall muscular man dancing around in a circle with Erik, trading blows with wooden swords.
“The new boy has obviously had some training,” Dunken said, sidling up beside him.
“Villager?”
Dunken nodded. “Norvold.”
Percel grunted. “They take their swordplay seriously in Norvold. Several fine fighters from there. This one looks promising. I hope he lives.”
“What do you think of the giant elf? I knew they grew tall, but that’s the largest one I’ve ever seen.”
“He looks like a simpleton.”
“Indeed. I believe he is.”
“If Clencher can show him which end to hold a sword, he might survive a while based on his size alone. Sometimes a simpleton will surprise you, though.”
Somebody zoomed past them and zipped around the courtyard in a blur. The men watched as Tawny stopped in front of Norra, panting for breath. Then she grabbed Nessa’s hand. Nessa yelped and Tawny took her for another round. The two of them whooshed by the men.
“Fleet Foot,” Percel said, nodding in approval. “She’s already learned how to extend it to whoever’s holding her hand. Over time she’ll be able to cast it on an entire team. It’ll be good for making a hasty exit deep underground.”
Dunken said, “Elves are more attuned to magic. It’s not surprising she’s already adept, even so young. Have you seen her eyes? They sparkle with power.”
Percel grunted. “She’ll learn to control it as she matures. And how’s the cleric?”
They watched Nessa as she shyly cast Rested State on herself, Tawny, and Norra.
“The cleric is pitifully weak. She’s here as punishment for getting caught with her boyfriend, who comes from a prominent family. She has not gone through their formal training, yet. I believe that begins in the fourth year at the Rectory. She has not yet completed her first year there.”
“Do you think Norra will be able to show her anything?”
“I’m not sure. We get so few clerics, I don’t know what an untrained one can do, or be taught to do.
At any rate, even young and next to useless, I’m glad to have her. If she learns just one healing spell, she’ll be worth her weight in gold. Literally. And if she lives long enough to develop considerable talent . . .”
He left the rest of his thought unsaid. Both of them knew the value of a skilled cleric on a team. She could mean the difference between death or survival, just by being present.
Percel nodded. No one would begrudge having a cleric, even a young and inexperienced one.
“Would you like to help train anyone today, Lord Percel? Mayhap the Norvold lad?”
Percel watched as Clencher and Erik sparred. Erik sprang forward in a sudden blur of wooden blades, only to be beaten back by Clencher. Now Clencher went on the attack, and Erik blocked his efforts, slowly stepping backward with each blow.
“Clencher is doing fine work, for now. I think I’ll see what happens when yon elf gets mad.”
Percel strode over and picked out a nice wooden broadsword from the racks. He turned and faced Toby who watched Erik and Clencher with a silly grin on his face.
Percel walked up behind Toby and thwacked him on the bottom with the flat of his sword.
Toby howled and jumped straight up, covering his buttocks with both hands.
“Turn around and face me, boy!”
Toby looked down at the relatively small Percel, a hurt expression replacing his typical smile.
“Pick up the sword! Defend yourself!”
Toby stared at him. Percel thwacked him on the side.
“Fight! Whatsa matter? Are y’ yellow?”
Percel thwacked him on the other side.
“Fight!”
Thwack!
“Fight!”
Thwack!
“RAAAAAAAAAAAA!”
The tips of Toby’s ears grew crimson and his face flushed bright red. He gripped his wooden sword and swung it down with brute strength on Percel, who quickly blocked the blow, the two weapons klacking together loudly.
“HAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGG!”
Toby swung the sword wide this time, making a streaking arc. Percel jumped back just in time, and smiled.
“That’s the spirit, lad. Now come at me! Gimme all y’ got!”
He flew into Toby with a flurry of strikes, thwacking him on the chest and legs and arms.
“HARRRRR!”
Toby lashed out with his left fist and clipped Percel on the jaw. The old man flew backward, landing on the ground in a clump.
Everyone stopped and stared, as Toby huffed over him with the wooden sword, wild-eyed.
Tawny ran over from the casters’ section.
“Toby! What have you done?”
When he saw his sister, the rage began to seep away. He deflated, and seemed to shrink in size. The redness drained from his face, and finally his ears. He looked down at Percel, still sprawled on the ground, and put a finger in his mouth.
Clencher and Dunken ran over and helped Percel stand up. The old man rubbed his jaw and raised an appraising eyebrow at Toby.
“Great,” Tawny said. “Now they’re going to kick us out. And it’s not even lunchtime yet.”
But Percel walked up to them smiling. He said, “That’s what I’m talking about, lad. That’s what I like to see. Y’got some spirit in you! Go down in the dungeons like that and you’ll come back out alive.”
Clencher and Dunken reached up to slap Toby on the back as Percel continued congratulating him. Toby gave his sister a confused look, finger still in his mouth.
When the group broke for lunch, the serving staff brought out extra portions for Toby, who happily downed more food than ever. Word had spread that the giant elf had decked the legendary Dungeon Lord Percel.
When Tawny cast an eye Percel’s way, expecting him to be sulking about the incident, she found him in a good mood instead. His jaw was red and swollen, evidently left untreated for all to see. Percel seemed to like it that way.
He spoke to the older men eating with him at his table and she overheard some of their conversation.
“Aye, I didn’t see it coming. Vicious left hook that boy has. I was too busy focused on the sword. You’d think I’d be old enough by now . . . “
The table burst into laughter.
“Men.”
Tawny turned and looked at Nessa, who made the disdainful remark before popping a bite of mashed potatoes into her mouth.
When she swallowed, Nessa said, “You’d think he won a medal getting clocked like that. I swear, the old man seems proud of the bruise your brother gave him.”
“I think he, ah, made a point,” Erik said, setting his plate down and sitting across the table from them. “That’s what he’s happy about.”
Both girls stared at him, expressionless. He shrugged.
“Just offering the male perspective. Lord Percel wants people to stay alive on dungeon runs. No one knew what Toby could do. Lord Percel found out. They’re glad Toby demonstrated some ability. He’s shown he’ll be an asset to whatever teams he’s on.”
Tawny said, “Hm. When you put it like that, it does sort of make sense. Still, they seem unduly happy about Percel’s injuries.”
Erik chuckled. He said, “He probably hasn’t suffered a blow to the face in decades. I think most of his scars came from when he was much younger.”
“You know about him?” Nessa said.
“Oh, yeah. Every boy who dreams of becoming a swordsman knows about Dungeon Lord Percel. He was one of the few Children Soldiers to come out of Melody Hall alive.”
Nessa’s mouth dropped open at this statement.
Tawny looked at him blankly. She said, “Melody Hall?”
Nessa’s mouth closed. She said, “You don’t know about Melody?”
“No. Should I?”
Erik said, “It’s kind of legendary. It’s a relatively new dungeon, only 55 or 60 years old. Melody was a grand city for centuries. Then one day, something happened. Nobody is quite sure exactly what, but the city began to sink into the ground. In the span of a few short minutes it sank completely below the surface. All the buildings became part of a huge dungeon complex, filled with undead monsters.
“The kingdom was in an uproar, as you might imagine, and several teams were sent down to investigate. Most were never seen or heard from again. The few who managed to return to the surface told tales about a strange monster who fed on souls, and dreadful traps that seemed to trigger on the evil people did in their past. Wild stuff. It was said the traps induced suffering proportionate to one’s sins.
“This led to the formation of the Children Soldiers. It was thought children, with little in the way of sin clouding their pasts, would be able to navigate the traps easier than adults.
“So they gathered young people of exceptional talent. Ten, eleven, and twelve years old. Large boys who could swing a sword. Girls with extraordinary magical prowess. They were outfitted with armor and weapons and led by Prince Synthan down into the sunken city. They headed toward the Melody Hall, the center of the city and the place said to hold the source of the dungeon’s evil.
“Most were never seen from again. Only a few children made it back to the top and Percel was one of them. They told tales of a horrific monster named Ludge residing in the Melody Hall. They called him a Soul Stealer, and said he was one of the most powerful creatures ever seen in a dungeon.”
“So, what happened?” Tawny said, finding herself drawn into the tale.
Erik shrugged. “No one really knows. Except perhaps the surviving children. They told of a horrific pitched battle in Melody Hall at the very end, with Prince Synthan going down and buying the few surviving children time to get out. Only a small handful made it back out alive.”
The three of them looked over at Percel, still chuckling and rubbing his chin.
“He’s lived a long time for a human,” Tawny said, swallowing another bite of potatoes. Her respect for him grew by leaps and bounds.
-+-
After lunch, everyone returned to the courtyard and resumed
practice. Norra put her charges to work, then pulled Nessa aside for more personal attention.
“Let’s work on that Rested State spell, shall we? Cast it again for me.”
Nessa concentrated and a slow, peaceful feeling spread all around her.
“Very good,” Norra said. “Now, I’m going to tweak it for you. Observe.”
She reached into the spell with her will and enhanced it. The peaceful area expanded. It grew stronger, like still air suddenly stirring into wind or a simple puddle of water rushing away in runoff from a sudden storm.
For a moment, in a radius of several feet around her, anyone near Nessa would have felt more than rested. Their bodies would respond like a flower turning to the sun, like a goose lining up with the stars and flying home on instinct alone.
For a moment, just a moment, Nessa cast Field of Healing.
She looked up at Norra, startled . . . and it was gone.
The older woman smiled at her, with kindly eyes full of wisdom in her narrow face.
“That, my dear, is just a glimpse of what you are capable of. And the sooner you can learn to tap into it without my help, the sooner you’ll be able to assist your team in the dungeons. Field of Healing allows everybody in your team to get better all at once. It’s a very powerful spell, and unique to the clerical classes.”
Nessa’s brows furrowed in confusion. She said, “Then how did you . . .?”
Her eyes grew wider in sudden understanding.
“You’re a cleric?”
Norra smiled. “I was, for a while. After a particularly vicious argument with the Grand Matron, I was asked to leave the Rectory and never return. I found work at Dungeon Corps and I’ve been here ever since. I did not stick with the Cleric class, though. I found serving as a mage much more rewarding. But I never forgot my training.”
“You went through Year Four . . .”
“I went all the way through Year Seven before getting kicked out, dear. And I have taught more than one wayward cleric all their defensive and offensive spells. I realize you have not even completed Year One at the Rectory, but don’t worry. All things are possible. And as you just witnessed, you have the capability of greatness within you. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
