The Ancients

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The Ancients Page 14

by Adam-Clay Webb


  “Master, this boy was trained by me, your own student, and trained also by King Azar, who is also a fine swordsman,” Blade assured.

  “Blade, I either train you or I destroy your village. Oga appeared to me I tell you, and threatened me heavily. Do not force me to--”

  Kyle drew his sword and threw his bag down.

  “That’s enough, you old bastard! You think you can come in here and threaten to destroy anything?! Do you know who we are, fool?”

  “Kyle!” Blade blasted, disarming him quickly. “Refrain from aggravating Lyoko!”

  “And you, Blade! Why do you fear this man?! No matter how strong he was back in the day, look at him now! You think he could possible beat any of us?!”

  “That’s enough now,” Azar said. “This is getting us nowhere.”

  “Master, just--”

  “Alright, if you can simply touch me with your blade--” Kyle grabbed his sword back from Blade quickly, ready to rush at Lyoko.

  “Not you, idiot! I was talking to Blade!” Kyle looked at Blade in shock. This petty challenge obviously upset Blade. He hissed and grabbed the handle of the legendary sword. Lyoko laughed. “That’s enough, Blade,” he said, “I won’t school you before your student.” Blade hissed, then let go of the sword.

  Lyoko sighed. “Blade, if this boy frustrates me, I will kill him, and destroy your village.”

  Blade nodded.

  Kyle’s heart raced. He didn’t want to do this anymore.

  If this man taught *Blade*, then how could I not frustrate him?!

  “Come, boy! We have many hills to climb to reach by morning!”

  “What?! Azar, can’t you get us some horses?!”

  “This too is a phase of the training, boy!” Lyoko said, sounding impatient already.

  “We’ll leave him to you then,” Azar said.

  “See you later Azar, Blade,” Kyle bade them, casing his sword and grabbing up his bag.

  Finally, the two left the sight of Blade and Azar, heading up to jungled hills.

  “Blade,” Azar said. “I have faith in Kyle’s potential…

  but--”

  “Not buts, Azar. Kyle might not have natural talent as a swordsman, but his will is unbreakable. He will endure Lyoko’s training.”

  “Hmm… Just know that it is likely that you will have to face Zakashi if he appears… As by then, the other sons might also surface. I would have to leave the Sword Sage to a man like you. It seems the gods have a particular interest in our dot on the map, so it wouldn’t be strange for them to strike here first in whatever scheme they have up their sleeves.”

  “When Kyle endures Lyoko’s training, he and I, along with Lyoko, will together rival even Zakashi.”

  “… I’ve read that Zakashi’s strength is his speed,” Azar said.

  “So have I. Lyoko focuses on speed in his teachings, so he will prepare Kyle well. Do you think Zakashi and his brothers are resurrected already?” Blade asked.

  “For some reason I think not… Based on my research, it might require a nasty amount of magical energy to bring them back.”

  “That even Oga cannot produce?”

  “Maybe… Darius and I are going through some secret documents that were hidden in the tower for decades. Some of these writings are closely knit to Kizer and Oga, and we might find a clue there.”

  “A clue to their plans?”

  “And possibly how to stop the resurrection if it isn’t already done.”

  “Wishful thinking I believe, but we can’t sit doing nothing anyway… I am still getting even stronger through training in the cave of Zakashi… The presence I feel while I am there… Fighting that man must be avoided, Azar…”

  ***

  “Well there used to be a special class that I taught personally of about thirty students, but since… since the Black War, I haven’t had time to even visit my school anymore.”

  “How come? So you mean you won’t be there when I attend?” Clover wanted to know that all her schoolmates would look up to her as the principal’s favourite – such a link would certainly buy her the envy and reverence of the whole school.

  “You see…”

  Clover saw how daunted Hawthorne looked.

  “Dinner will be ready in a minute!” Haiku called, but Hawthorne, so lost in bloody memories, could not hear.

  “I was the most novice member of the Ogal Council just before the Black War, and now…” Clover looked sunken as she feared she understood. “I got this house erected just before the war had sprung up. It is more massive than you probably think, far grander than the little tower in Magma Town. . . I would soon surprise the other councillors with it and convince them that we all live together here.”

  “But then they were all killed in the war,” Clover said, immediately feeling bad as her words came out more bluntly than she had wanted.

  “Yes. Now I am the only councillor left… When the land was informed of this, there was much sorrow, although I had immediately risen to a new status. Being the last of the councillors, I had seemingly become as powerful as the Prime Minister.”

  “What do you mean? Isn’t the council the head of Notherland?”

  “Not quite. The council is merely a religious figurehead in honour of God; the Prime Minister is the real head of state, but not long ago, when Catherina, the past leader, was alive, we had as much influence on the running of the country as the Prime Minister.”

  “But now that you are the only one left, the heads of state don’t take you as seriously.” Hawthorne glanced up at Clover with fierce eyes. Clover sunk into her cushioned seat, knowing she was right. “So are you planning to recruit new councillors and rebuild the integrity of the council?” the girl questioned.

  “You are both powerful and intelligent, little one,” Hawthorne said, making Clover redden a little. “Since the day of the announcement, I have been dealing with thousands of candidates, but not even one comes close to replacing any of the past councillors. Firstly, all these candidates are even weaker than I. Many I don’t know enough to trust – they are just jumping at the opportunity to seize wealth and power! The Prime Minster, Ki, is getting impatient with me, but selecting councillors to make the new council simply cannot be rushed!” Clover saw how frustrated Hawthorne was.

  “And your delay is seen to many as a ploy to maintain the status of being the only councillor, keeping the title to yourself.”

  “You’re certainly a quick study,” Hawthorne said, impressed. “Despite all this, I will not let Catherina’s tutorage be a waste. I will have the council rebuilt to an even stronger one! Oga will be pleased with my work!” Clover wondered how to feel. Hawthorne sighed, remembering what Clover had said about Oga and Kizer. “In all, I will accompany you to the school tomorrow,” the woman conceded.

  Clover gasped and looked up at her with much gratitude. “Oh you mustn’t be bothered,” Clover said.

  “I must. I will have you placed in Kuriu’s class. She teaches the best of the third-years. You should have final exams in…” she looked up and tried to memorize the school calendar. “Nine schooldays I believe.”

  “What?!” Clover was excited and terrified.

  “Yes, those who are successful will move on from intermediate to expert magic. If you want to make something of your power, then prove yourself and learn three years’ worth of knowledge within the nine days.”

  “That’s insane! How can I--”

  “If what you say of my god and his companion is truth, then we might not have six years to make you into a useful witch,” Hawthorne said.

  So the school curriculum covers six years in all, Clover realized. But wait, does this mean that she believes me?! “I will do it!” Clover took on the challenge, just as Hawthorne knew she would. “But what happens after I ace these exams?”

  Is she really confident that she can pass these exams in nine days? Maybe I should tell her that the failure rate is roughly 78%. “Well, if you do manage to pass, I will withdraw you from
the school and train you personally.” Clover was speechless. Hawthorne laughed a little, seeing the priceless look on the girl’s face.

  “Heh. The only way you would make such a deal is if you think I couldn’t possibly pass,” Clover said, “and your thinking that is what will push me to come first in my class!”

  Hawthorne laughed, totally amused by Clover.

  ***

  Kyle was astonished at how Lyoko moved easily across the rough terrain. They crossed spiky hills and fierce rivers. As they moved for hours at a near steady pace, they encountered fierce beasts that Lyoko refused to fight, forcing Kyle to kill them even in his exhaustion. This was far more difficult than fighting the pride of lions created by the subdimension of Herriot years back, and unlike back then, getting torn to threads would of course mean the end of him. Kyle felt a soreness in his muscles that no battle, no previous training had suffered him. Of all his enemies though, his fiercest was the sun, which seemed to linger high in the sky though it was well into evening.

  “L—Lyoko… Water…” Kyle begged, then finally toppled and keeled over, gasping. Lyoko didn’t allow him to eat or drink on the journey.

  “Get up you worthless blot of scum!” the man hissed at Kyle. Kyle looked up to the sky. It showed him mercy and the sun finally hid itself behind the distant hills. Lyoko made him lay there a while longer, until it was fully night. Kyle wondered why he was already this tired. It was like something was strange about the environment – it appeared to drain his energy by the second.

  “Boy, we have many miles to cover. Whatever time we reach, our training will begin at sunup, so if you want some rest before we begin, I suggest you get your ass up and—huh?!” Lyoko was amazed that the boy was already asleep. After a little pause, he laughed a little.

  “Uh…” After what felt like a second’s sleep, Kyle opened his eyes to the gentle rays of the early-morning sun. What the… He woke up in a dusty cabin, and quickly ran to the door and opened it. He saw that around him was a small yard that was bordered by a thick woodland. Sitting with his legs crossed and back turned to him was the old man who was supposed to teach him. “Old man, where am I?” the boy asked in confusion.

  “A hundred and ten miles from where you fell asleep.”

  “W—what? You think I’m stupid, old man?! Huh?!” Kyle held his breath and his face twisted up as in a flash, the old man who was sitting a few meters before him just vanished. He gasped as he felt a tense paralysis and a heavy presence behind him. His eyes slowly fell until they were upon the old man’s staff, which was held under his chin by Lyoko, who was behind him. Magic?! Illusion?

  “As your training has now begun, you will refer to me as Great Grand Master Lyoko!”

  Kyle was still stupefied by whatever move the old man had just made.

  “Now, let me say this from now. You will experience things and witness levels of speed and strength that you have never before seen, but do not be frightened by these things. When your training is expired, you will be able to do things that you now think impossible… Anyway, let’s not have that food getting too cold on us,” the man said in a suddenly contrasting tone.”

  Kyle just remembered how hungry he was. “So, Lyoko,” Kyle said.

  “I said it’s Grand--”

  “Yeah, whatever!” Kyle brushed off with his mouth full. He was eating a weird brownish thing with a nasty flavour that was well-cloaked by his hunger. It was dry and powdery, and not the least bit aesthetic. “So you taught Blade and his brother for a time.”

  “Ah, that pair of boys,” Lyoko said, chewing down more of whatever that food was. The more Kyle was filled, the more disgusting the food began tasting, until it started to show on his face even involuntarily. “I was sought out by a young man once – I don’t remember his name. He paid me heavily to train him and his men – they were the elders of Zakashi Village. On one of my visits, I noticed two boys practicing some techniques with impressive skill. I drew near to them and observed them a while longer. The elder who had sought me out saw my interest in them and asked me to train them for a little while for the same payment I trained him and his men for.

  “These boys, I instantly realized, especially the one with the moon-coloured hair, now known as Blade, had far more potential than the others who I had tutored. They excelled quickly, and in a few weeks, their skill grew exponentially. Both boys on the surface were equal, but Daniel, your master, he had a certain kind of finesse to his techniques that reminded me of myself. I figured that if he remained on the path he was on, by the time he is my age, he would have become as strong as I was when I was his.”

  “Huh?” Kyle looked confused.

  “You, Kyle, are the total opposite of Blade. He was born with an innate talent, being a descendant of Zakashi, the man hailed to be the sage of the sword. His eyes were quick, his mind sharp, his feet swift.” Kyle looked despondent. “But you have something that I did not then see in Blade, something that can make up for your lack of talent.” Kyle looked up at Lyoko quickly. “You need not explain it, but I sense in you an unbendable will to prove yourself, to show your worth.”

  Kyle suddenly remembered clearer than ever how he had felt when he saw the breath-taking powers of Lex and Clover for the first time. He saw like they were still before him his grandfather’s eyes, and felt the old man pushing the scabbard vehemently onto his chest. “I will not be outdone,” he remembered himself vow.

  “Understand this, young Kyle,” Lyoko said, “a second-rate swordsman from Zakashi’s time could easily slay both Blade and me.” Kyle wondered if this could really be so. Blade was certainly strong, and the boy was beginning to think that this old man could even be far stronger. “Men have become weak. Swordsmen, because of the long eras of peace and the inventions of modernity, have become worthless. They have forgotten the basic laws and elementary techniques which are the foundation of strength. In this day, only sorcerers and elementalists are looked on as strong, but consider this, Zakashi’s strength was in no way inferior to that of his brothers’. Zakashi himself killed two of Oga’s arcane children.”

  “Zakashi killed seventh grade sorcerers?!” Kyle couldn’t believe.

  “Sorcery below seventh grade had no effect on him, and arcane sorcery could barely match him. That is a level of strength that was not simply inherited by Kizer, but acquired through training.”

  “How could you even know all this?!”

  “In time I will show you everything, young Kyle. If you give me a year of your life, I will make you stronger than Blade.”

  “Stronger… than…” Kyle couldn’t even say it.

  “Though my strength is close to that of men from Zakashi’s time, the span of my life is not. If you let me, I will give you my strength that it will not die with me.”

  “… How could you be as strong as you say you are?” Kyle asked.

  “I was trained by the progenitor of the sword.”

  “Are you sure you aren’t crazy, old man?”

  “Are you finished eating, now? We should get started.”

  “By the way, what the heck is this shit?” Kyle just remembered to ask.

  “Heh. Exactly that,” Lyoko said with a slight smirk.

  Chapter 9: History Lesson

  Anxiousness and jubilations kept her awake, even on the plush, exquisite bed that was too big for her. The young witch stared up at the fancy chandeliers. She wondered if she could ever get used to a room like this. Warm scented candles gave the place a serene, orange glow that melted into the sea of yellows and reds and purples that were the city lights. Twice she had sprung up from her bed and wandered outside to look down from the hilltop mansion, Hawthorne’s getaway castle. It was the grandest place the girl had ever seen. The only thing that compared to it was the city itself. The mansion was in the Notherlandian city of Chron, which was the capital of the entire continent. It was Notherland’s most prized city, where the wealthy and powerful lived. A house in Chron could buy a village anywhere else. Mount Oga, th
e House of the Prime Minister, and the famed School of Magic were all in this city.

  Though it was already quite late, it seemed the city was more alive than it was in the day. The unceasing noise of business and excitement gave the city a constant hum that was never silenced, probably except right after the war. Clover even had to wonder if this place had seen the same terrible event that marred Libson and left many small islands vacant.

  For the millionth time, Clover inspected her left wrist. On it was the Notherlandian seal, but there was no circle around it. Hawthorne had given the child a class A citizenship, a status practically only those born in Notherland were privileged to have. “This still feels like a dream,” Clover said to herself. She felt like a princess who was looking down at her kingdom. All of a sudden, she had found herself not just in Notherland, not just in Chron, but in the house of the Ogal Leader, in the care of the most powerful woman in the world. The more she gave thought to all this, the giddier she felt, until she was even giggling to herself. She twirled gleefully in her night dress, until she finally decided to try once more to get some sleep.

  She must have had a thousand dreams before she got up early the next day. She gasped as she woke. This wasn’t a dream! She was really in Hawthorne’s house, and she was really heading off to magic school! She jumped up from her bed with much excitement. The room looked all new to her again. She didn’t even notice the round-faced device on the wall that told the time. She followed the homely scent of rich breakfast to the food Haiku had just prepared.

  The table, just like everything else, was much grander than it needed to be. Made of polished mahogany and crystal-clear class, it wore twelve cushioned seats and stretched down several meters.

  After greeting her and showing her to her seat, Haiku left the dining room, leaving Clover to eat by herself on the twelve-seater table. The food delicious, but was much too much, and the meal was lonesome. It struck her all of a sudden that her friends were likely living far less lavish lives wherever they were. She prayed that Kyle and Lex weren’t hungry, wherever they were. And she wondered if Star would soon fully recover.

 

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