by Sever Bronny
“What do they do?”
“They significantly amplify the Summon Weapon spell.”
“Oooo,” many toned.
Mrs. Hawthorne next examined the milk-white vambraces, each intricately etched with a loopy letter A. “And these significantly amplify one’s Shield spell.”
“I’ll give you one guess what the armors amplify,” Jez said after examining a chainmail shirt.
“Summon Armor?” Bridget asked.
“That’s right, monkey. We have a battle trinity here. Shield, weapon and armor amplification.”
“Awesome,” Leera whispered.
“The Dreadnoughts forged these items in thanks,” Augum said, trying to keep the excitement he felt in his veins from bubbling over. “It was their gift to Arinthian for allowing them the Big Sleep instead of serving him as slaves.” The story was all too familiar, and he thought about it often. But he had always assumed it was only Burden’s Edge that had been wrought for his ancestor, never an entire room’s worth of powerful artifacts. Who knew what the other items did!
Bridget nodded at the compendium in Augum’s hand. “Add one more thing to the study pile.”
“That pile’s starting to cast a long shadow,” Leera muttered.
Jez flashed a wry smile. “All right, monkeys, shall we go see what these Trainers are all about? I can’t wait to see how Arinthian tortured his kids with warlock drills.”
The items were replaced, all except the compendium book for the Keeper of the Keys, which Augum intended to study diligently. He then telekinetically closed the vault door. He noted that neither it nor the general armory equipment disappeared unless he placed his hand on the encircled A by the double doors, and chose to leave the items visible in case they needed them in a hurry.
The group gathered outside the last set of doors in the domed chamber. Carved into the facade was a landscape panoramic depicting warlocks from various elements dueling each other or practicing against wooden dummies. The sight gave Augum butterflies of excitement. It was a dream come true to have Trainers in the castle.
Augum placed his hand on the doors. “Entarro.” They slowly swung toward the group with a mighty creak, forcing them to step back. A damp and exotic smell immediately hit them, reminding Augum of the Forest Room, that secret arcane jungle in the castle. Various dim lanterns and lights inside a vast cavern began to flare, like fireflies in the night.
“Ooo,” the group cooed, for before them stood a forest of ancient oaks, maples and birches, thick with lush late summer crowns, interspersed with evergreen coniferous pines, cedars and spruces. And nestled amongst the canopy of some of the thickest trees were round cabins lit with a cozy glow. They were linked with rickety-looking rope bridges. High above this magical and majestic forest, the ceiling was lit up with twinkling stars. Augum saw the constellation of the Great Spear, along with the castle. Distantly, there appeared the silhouette of a vast mountain range, but it looked like some kind of illusion, as if it was a gigantic mural on the cavern wall, which in itself looked to have cliff-edge paths running along it, along with stairs that meandered to dizzying heights. In the deepest and dark corner, there even appeared to be a great black sphere.
“Oh the stars do thee await, fair damsel,” Laudine whispered in awe. She was one of the few students who loved waking up early to partake in the morning meetings.
“Are … are we outside?” Haylee asked, sniffing the air. “Smells like it … kind of. And why’s it night here when it’s still morning?”
Mrs. Hawthorne took a few steps inside, the others tentatively following. “I do not believe we are outside. As for why it is night … this appears to be ancient and powerful arcanery.”
The ground was soft grass. Shrubs grew in sporadic bursts, but other than that, there was mostly clear sightlines through the massive trunks for some distance, lit by warm hanging lanterns that rocked gently in a breeze that came from who knew where. Nestled amongst the trees could be seen the shapes of straw men. But there were also signs of stone ruins and various other dim structures, including what appeared to be the ruins of miniature castles. In fact, the more Augum looked, the more he saw.
“Obstacle courses—!” Leera blurted, pointing to a spot nestled within the trees on their far left. “Just like at the Antioc library!”
“Students are going to have a giddy fit when they see this place,” Jez said. “Looks enormous.”
“It is,” Mrs. Hawthorne said, glancing skyward. They looked up to see great dark rooms floating high above, but camouflaged with stars, the outlines barely visible. Some of them had long frayed ropes that ran all the way down to the trees. Rope bridges attached some of the rooms together. But there were other things floating around up there too, including floating platforms of varying constructions. Attached to one was what appeared to be a very long iron pole, perhaps for a person to slide down. If that was indeed the case, it looked enormously fun.
“What is that?” Haylee asked, pointing at a fat misty cloud, opaque but ever evolving.
“If I did not know any better, my dear,” Mrs. Hawthorne said, “I would swear that is some kind of air Trainer.”
The trio instantly exchanged an excited look. This meant that there could be a Trainer per element, just as in the Library of Antioc!
“And is that … a giant floating blob of water—?” Jengo asked, pointing at a distant glistening object floating high above the trees.
“Could be a water Trainer!” Leera said, jumping enthusiastically from foot to foot.
A sudden breeze sprung up and the trees stirred with a gentle whoosh, moving robes and hair. The dim lanterns swayed in the forest, flickering as leaves passed before the light. They watched with slack mouths as clouds began to form and thicken, until a gentle and quiet rain started to fall.
“Marvelous,” Mrs. Hawthorne said in a whisper, “simply marvelous. In the days of old, air warlocks were able to permanently enchant an area with weather. I have never seen it in person, however. This is … remarkable arcanery.”
Haylee crouched and picked up a large brown maple leaf, which she crunched in her fist, watching the flakes fall back to the grass. “It must go through seasons …”
“Forgive me, but this place is impossible,” Mr. Haroun said, frowning at the distant ceiling. “That ceiling would be above ground.”
Jez glanced back to the domed chamber. “You’re right. It’s ancient arcanery though, so the doorway itself could be a portal, or the space has been arcanely enhanced. They had loads of tricks in the old days, tricks forgotten to modern arcaneologists.”
“How I wish I had a single measures-worth of arcane talent,” Mr. Haroun muttered, shaking his head. “Alas, I am but a mere Ordinary.”
“Hey, there’s an inscription here!” Jengo called. He was standing beside a boulder, clearing moss aside, revealing a weathered bronze plaque. The group quickly gathered round.
“Unnameable gods,” Mrs. Hawthorne whispered, telekinetically clearing an ivy-laced spot at the bottom.
Laudine gasped. “Mrs. Hawthorne, that cannot be!”
“What is it?” Augum asked.
“Training rooms,” Mrs. Hawthorne began, “rarely go above the 10th degree.” She tapped at the plaque. “This place … this place runs all the way to the 20th.”
A Glimpse
The boulder before them served as an introduction, and it seemed to suggest that there were twenty degrees of Trainers.
Mrs. Hawthorne studied the bronze inscriptions. “There is a portal to each degree. It appears each is only accessible to someone proving they have acquired the proper rings of the previous degree.”
Bridget was nodding along. “So to get to the 6th degree, we need only prove that we have the 5th?”
“That is correct, Princess Bridget. And it appears the proof is merely having the rings on one’s arm.”
Laudine twirled. “But where, brave explorers, doth these portals be?”
Jez steepled her fingers together. �
�Hmm, if only we had, oh, say, some kind of compendium or something …”
Augum, scion buzzing around his head as he gaped at the beauty around them, jolted. “Right, sorry.” He took the compendium for the Keeper of the Keys from under his arm and began riffling through it. But the language was old and dense and cryptic. “I … I’m not sure, can’t make much sense of this.”
Bridget crowded close and helped. “It appears that they’re scattered all over the place. Almost like we have to find them ourselves.”
Laudine brought her hands to her chest. “A world of adventure and discovery awaits, friends.”
But Augum, pacing a little into the glimmering and rainy forest, saw something else here—an opportunity. There were strategic hiding places, who knew how many offensive positions, and more. This was it, this was where it would take place. They had ten days.
“Aug?”
He faced the group. It was Bridget and she looked concerned.
“What is it?” she pressed.
“Here.”
“Here?”
He nodded. “Here. This is where we make our stand. I can feel it. But we’ll have to be clever.”
“You’re talking about your plan!” Bridget blurted.
“I am.” He slowly turned in place, seeing opportunity after opportunity. “We’ll have to work together.” A grand ruse, the details of which still needed fleshing out. “The trick,” he said, returning his gaze to them, feeling like a general addressing troops, “is to separate him. Bring him here alone.” He gestured at the trees, at the rooms, and back at the domed chamber behind them. “We take potshots at him throughout, weakening him. We start in the castle and continue through here.”
Mrs. Hawthorne placed a thoughtful finger upon her lips. “It’s possible it might work, but for you to face him successfully—”
“—we’d have to weaken him substantially,” Jez finished slowly. Augum could see that there was a flurry of ideas behind her eyes.
“How are you going to separate him from the Legion?” Leera asked.
“That’s the part I haven’t figured out yet.”
“Or how to get him to Castle Arinthian without him sensing a trap,” Mr. Haroun said.
“I have already given that some thought, Mr. Haroun,” Augum said, pacing. “I’ve got a few ideas I’d like to discuss with everyone when we jump into the plan in detail.”
“His horde would attack the castle directly,” Jez said. “We shall have to plan for the possibility that the primary arcane defenses will fail. We have to plan for a breach.”
Augum nodded. “That’s why I have to activate the defensive capabilities of the castle using the scion as soon as possible. Combine that with Leland’s army and battlement defense—”
“—and we just might stand a chance,” Bridget said, nodding.
“What about if we all faced him?” Haylee asked, staring between the trio. “I mean, everybody piles on, including Mrs. Hawthorne, Ms. Terse, Mr. Fungal … everyone.”
“It wouldn’t work,” Augum replied. “Soon as he sniffs a pile-on, he’ll easily escape and regroup. We have to use his arrogance against him. Besides, I believe it’s our destiny to face him. And Mrs. Stone believed the same, that’s why she armed us with the spell.”
Jez pondered that. “Anyway we’ll have our hands full defending the castle from the undead horde. But if you change your mind …”
Jengo was habitually rubbing the scar on his chin. “Feels like suicide.”
“There will be grave risks, yes,” Augum said. “But I figure that those that don’t want to partake in the fight can hide. Families, non-combatants, and so on. We’ll find a safe place for them.”
After a pause, it was Mr. Haroun who said what Augum suspected they had all been thinking. “There won’t be any place to hide if we fail.” He glanced from face to worried face. “For all of Sithesia would fall.”
“It’s worse than that,” Bridget whispered. “They’ll be turned into the undead to serve the Lord of the Legion.”
This dampened the mood considerably. People stared with unfocused gazes or anxiously fidgeted. For a time, no one spoke, only listened to the gentle sway of the trees and the quiet patter of rain.
Mr. Haroun placed his hands behind his back. “I suggest, Prince Augum, that while you, Princess Leera and Princess Bridget train for the final battle, you allow the Resistance as a whole to begin thinking up various possible scenarios to trap the Lord of the Legion.”
Mrs. Hawthorne was nodding along. “Yes, and I of course place my students at the Resistance’s full disposal. We shall all work together toward victory.”
Augum held up the Keeper of thy Keys: A Compendium book. “And I promise to study the defensive plans and work with everyone to implement them as needed. It’s going to take people. The battlements alone require a person each to man.” He couldn’t wait to see the arcane offensive capabilities of the castle.
Jez placed her hands on her hips as she looked about the now sodden training grounds. It was morning and sunny outside, yet here it was night and rainy. “We’re going to have a heck of a fight on our hands.” She slapped Bridget’s back, making her cough. “Well, no time like the present, my little monkeys. I have devious plans for you. Stone, you’re going to study Mrs. Stone’s letters like your life depends on it—which of course it does. You’re also going to memorize anything essential in that compendium. Burns, Jones—you’re going to help us come up with a detailed training regimen. Tennyson, Cooper—you’re going to work under Mrs. Hawthorne in preparing the students for combat.”
“And I shall work with Constable Clouds in preparing everyone else,” Mr. Haroun said with a grave nod.
“We’re all in this together,” Jez said. “And we’ll plan it to the nth degree.” She clapped her hands together, rubbing them excitedly. “Right. Enough gawking. Let’s get to work.”
Possibilities
When the group returned, it was to a flurry of activity. The rest of the inhabitants of the castle were already awake and had finished breakfast. Tasks were assigned and people put to work. Word quickly spread about the discovery downstairs. Plans immediately began to form on how to use the newly-found Arinthian equipment for training and castle defense purposes.
But Augum ignored all of that. Compendium in hand, he walked past the gawking and bowing crowds, quietly thanking them for their kind greetings or wishes for a Resistance victory, and went up to his room, closing the door behind him. There he placed the book on his desk, sat down in the hardwood chair, and began studying the other two letters from Mrs. Stone.
The first was an exhaustive exploration of the scion—its uses, powers, possibilities, and everything she considered worthy of passing on. Her writing was dense and to the point.
It took Augum the remainder of that morning to work his way through that letter alone, parsing each of the concepts in detail, battling to understand things like “arcane horizon-field expansion” and “principles of arcane tendril manipulation”. One particularly impressive power was ring snuff, which allowed the scion wielder to snuff an opponent warlock’s arm rings, thus nullifying their ability to cast spells. And the more adept one became with the scion, the more arms one could snuff. Augum had personally witnessed Sparkstone use that particular snuffing power at Sparrow’s Perch … with catastrophic consequences for those affected.
At the end of the letter, she outlined arduous daily practice regimens for him to perform, designed to advance his proficiency with the scion as quickly as possible.
Lunch was brought to him by a meek Annelise Clayborne. She flashed Augum a nervous smile as she set down a tray steaming with hot food and tea, and kept her eyes low. When he inquired how things were going downstairs, she replied with, “Well enough, m’lord.”
“Sorry, I mean, is training going well—”
“—forgive me, Your Highness, but Ms. Terse told me that you are not to concern yourself with such matters.”
“Of course she d
id …” he muttered as she scurried off.
Augum dedicated the afternoon to the second letter, a comprehensive study of various tactics regarding the Lord of the Legion. The first third of the letter dealt with the most probable types of attack the man would employ and how his six scions would likely aid him. By the time Augum finished this section, he was bathed in cold sweat. Not only would Sparkstone use deadly arcane attacks the trio had not even faced yet, but he would likely go after the girls first in order to “punish” Augum.
The middle portion of the letter dealt with various ways the trio could defend themselves against those attacks, including the use of Annocronomus Tempusari, Centarro, and various combinations of other spells. She went on to remind him about her gauntlet feat under the academy, but made no specific suggestions on how to implement a gauntlet in Castle Arinthian. Thus, when Augum finished this portion, he raised his hands questioningly, saying, “That’s all? That’s all you have, Nana?” and flipped the letter around, hoping for more in the third and final section. But it only discussed various psychological warfare methods they could employ—what to say and when, how to manipulate Sparkstone using his anger and arrogance, etc. As exhaustive as it was, none of it felt like enough, and made Augum’s stomach buzz with anxious worry, like it did before a looming fist fight with a bigger boy.
Before supper, he bathed in thoughtful silence, letters in hand and two books by his side—Keeper of thy Keys: A Compendium, as well as On Arcaneology: A Pupil’s Encyclopedia of the Arcane Arts—while mouthing ideas to himself, the scion floating nearby. There were two ancient arcane bathing rooms underground in the back of the bailey, referenced in passing in the compendium, one for women and the other for men, though he had no idea which was which. Augum hadn’t told anyone about the hidden rooms yet, desperately needing some privacy to think.
