Bren woke to the sound of a soft metallic click. Letting his eyes slip open only a small amount, Bren could see the door to his cell slide open. As muffled footsteps hit his ears, Bren saw two pair of legs, both wearing some tight leggings. “Looks like the mages have done most of the work for us,” A soft voice whispered in the dark.
“Thuraman,” Bren called his staff in his mind.
I think this is the first time you ever called me. What is the special occasion?
“I think the Brotherhood assassins are in the cell with me,” Bren said, trying to act calm even though his heart was beating so fast he thought it might jump out of his chest.
The room was so quiet, Bren could hear as the dagger was raised into the air above him. Holding his Breath, Bren called for Thuraman again, this time as soon as the name entered his mind, he could feel the cold wood of the staff fill his hand.
The sound of the dagger made a soft whistling sound as it descended. Bren rolled to the side and pressed his body tight against the wall. The dagger passed only inches in front of him, digging deep into the thin mattress of the cot and into the wood below.
Bracing himself against the wall, Bren kicked out with his left foot, catching his attacker right above the wrist. A loud popping sound was immediately followed by the sound of the man’s screams, as his knees buckled and he fell toward the ground. His forehead catching the edge of the cot with a loud thud.
Not wasting time to celebrate his success, Bren jumped up from his resting place, landing on the ground next to the downed man who was moaning softly.
The other man was already on guard and quickly struck with his own weapon. Acting quickly, Bren blocked with his staff. The assassins didn’t seem daunted by the fact Bren had a weapon and continued his attacks, one of them catching Bren in the arm, cutting a thin slash along his arm.
Bren’s eyes flashed as he stepped back, allowing the assassin to come in close, his dagger coming in straight for Bren’s chest. As the tip of the dagger pierced his skin, Bren’s body felt hot and his sight began to blur. Bren could barely hear the scream of the assassin, as everything around him seemed to warp and expand. A loud roar erupted in his ears as the area around him was filled with a red mist, as the man in front of him exploded.
As everything calmed down, Bren looked down at his body. He was now covered in dark blood. Bren felt his stomach lurch before he found himself doubled over on, the contents of his stomach spraying the ground.
Bren found himself curled up in a ball, crying as more forms rushed into the room. Some of them he could hear talking, though he couldn’t make out their words.
He felt as someone jerked him up and pulled him out of the cell. He tried to resist, but he had no strength left in his body to fight. He knew that he had used a vast amount of magic, and his hand still burned red hot as it had any other time he had done so. The last thing Bren remembered before he drifted off into unconsciousness was the feeling of cold water being poured over him. It made him shiver, but felt strangely cleansing as he drifted off to sleep.
It would seem that you were right about your son,” Humanius said, his voice sounding more curious then angry. “Hopefully, I can still get him before he progresses too far.”
“I honestly thought you would be more disappointed in the failure,” Thad said, confused by Humanius’s actions.
“While I care what happens to the world, I have placed it in the hands of my followers. If they fail, the world will end. If they succeed, it would continue to live for a time.”
“In the end, you are saying that no matter what happens, the veil will fall,” Thad said, his ire raging. “Then why are you so adamant to kill my son? Why not prepare your followers for what will happen once it falls instead of trying to prolong the inevitable?” Thad asked, his voice raising with each word.
“The more I interfere with the world, the faster the veil will fall. I can only send images to my people, and even those are broken and weak. Though with each passing year, it becomes easier and easier as the veil continues to fail,” Humanius said in a contemplative tone. “Maybe I should prepare them, but I don’t think they would easily change their way of life. They have founded a religion out of the hatred of anything magical, and I doubt they could ever work alongside mages and the magical races, or the other way around.
“So you continue this even though you know that it will change nothing?” Thad asked, now yelling at the top of his lungs, as his hands gripped for his sword that he wished still hung at his side even though he knew that nothing he could do would harm the god.
“We must each play our part and follow what we believe to be right. I do not go after your son just because he threatens the veil, but his very existence threatens the balance of the entire ether.”
“If that is true, then yours threatens the same balance,” Thad said with fire in his yes.
“That is true, but if I were to allow myself to die, then there would be no one to keep my sister in check. I could kill my sister, but each time I have come close to doing so, I could not bring myself to follow through,” Humanius’s words were soft and contemplative, giving Thad pause in his anger. “As much as you think of us as gods, we were people once, and in a very real sense, we still are. We have emotions…if we did not, then how could we care about revenge and peace. You gave us the title of god and we have played it well, but we are still just beings who must do the best with the hands we are dealt. The only real difference, is the power we wield and the knowledge we have gained throughout the endless years of life on this world.”
Thad found himself sitting on the ground, staring aimlessly at the portal, watching as his son slept on the bed. “What would his son become, should he come into his full power?” Thad asked himself. After meeting Humanius, he didn’t like following the line of thought.
CHAPTER XXIV
Bren awoke in the familiar bed in the medical ward. Almost afraid of what he would find, Bren looked down at his arm and was happy to see that all of the blood was gone. Even thinking about what had happened the night before made his stomach churn.
“I see you are awake,” Bren heard a soft voice say from the door. Turning, he saw Master Carnear standing there, with a bemused smile on her face. “Sae-Thae did say that you could be a handful, but I didn’t expect all of this from you in a single day. Not only did you challenge the council, you rid the Tower of the assassins.”
“How do you know there are not more assassins?” Bren asked, his voice coming out harsh as the words seemed to stick in his mouth.
“The alarm that your father placed not only notifies us that someone with a brotherhood sword has entered the country, but also a second one sounds when there are no more of the swords within the boundaries of the country. Once the two daggers of the men you killed last night were placed outside of the border, the all clear alarm sounded. That is not to say that others are not around, there could be plenty after your life that do not hold brotherhood steel,” master Carnear added with a wry smile.
“That is very reassuring,” Bren replied, a slight shiver ran down his spine.
“I thought I would be here to greet you when you woke,” Carnear said, her face taking on a serious tone. “The council has been busy in the two days since the incident in the dungeons. They have started solidifying their strength within the human side of town.”
“What are they planning?” Bren asked, suddenly setting up in bed.
“They know that I support master Sae-Thae and don’t approve of many of their actions, so they haven’t let me in on much. I can only go by hearsay, but it would seem as if they plan to overthrow you in a sense. Take the country that you have claimed as your own and claim it as free land…Or so they say. What they really plan to do is make it where everything within the lands is under the direct control of the Tower and therefore the council.”
“What can I do?” Bren said, more to himself than to Master Carnear.
“If it were me, the first thing would do is get out o
f the Tower,” Master Carnear said in an offhanded manner as she turned to leave the room. “If I know the other masters, they will have you taken back to the dungeon as soon as they know you are awake.” Bren noticed that as Master Carnear left, she placed something against the wall.
If I were you, I would take her advice. Unless you enjoy dark, dank places.
Bren looked at his sword that sat against the wall, where Carnear had placed it. If Thuraman was agreeing with a female, then it must be good advice. Sighing, Bren stood up from the bed, his head spinning slightly. Steading himself, Bren called for Thuraman and the staff appeared in his hand.
Leaning heavily on Thuraman, Bren bent down carefully and picked up his sword. The sword looked a little odd seeing that Bren only wore a thin gown, but he didn’t see his clothing anywhere. He wished that Carnear had seen fit to bring his clothes along with his sword.
Bren moved as quietly as he could, making sure to stay out of the sight of any passing mages and guards that walked the halls. It was hard and meant that Bren spent more time hiding than moving along the crowded corridors.
As soon as he was outside, Bren quickened his pace, but soon found that his body couldn’t take the added strain. He was still weak and he could tell that his body was already nearing its limits. He didn’t know if he could make it all the way to the training grounds, but it was the only place that he could think of to go.
Bren barely noticed that the sun was well over halfway through its arc in the sky as he meandered through the streets. Weak and dehydrated, Bren lost track of everything as he waked along, pulling himself by sheer will, until he heard the sounds of metal on metal coming from the practice field
“Weapons Master!” Bren tried to yell, but it came out as more of a whisper. Stumbling, Bren fell to his knees as he stumbled on a large rock in the corner of the field.
“Bren, is that you?” Bren head a voice say, but couldn’t find the strength to look up at the speaker, nor could he get his voice to work to talk. Trying his best, Bren tried to pull himself up, but the last of his strength failed him and he fell face first to the ground.
“Get him some water,” Bren heard the loud and stern voice of the Weapons Master yell, as someone pulled him to his feet. He helped him over to a cool shaded place under one of the few trees that decorated the training grounds.
Bren tried to grasp the earthenware cup, but his hand was shaking so bad that he had to have help drinking. Bren felt ashamed at his own weakness, but didn’t try to fight the help as the cool water touched his lips. After the third cup, he was still shaking slightly, but he felt much better and his throat no longer itched.
“I heard that they had you locked away in the dungeon,” Jacob said, refilling Bren’s cup with more cool water.
“Assassins… medical…ran,” Bren said, the words no longer hurting his throat, but his mind still fuzzy and disorientated from weakness.
“Allay your fears Bren, I promise that no one from the Tower can reach you here. They could try, but this is considered the sovereign ground of Rane. They would find themselves in dire trouble if they tried,” The Weapons Master said in a reassuring tone. “Flynn, William, take Bren inside and make sure that he drinks plenty of broth. I don’t see how he could get this weak in a few days, even without food. It looks as if the mages have starved him for more than a week, not simply a few days.”
“He might have used his magic,” Bren heard Flynn’s voice say, as he was lifted from the ground. “I once saw him use a large amount and he looked drained. As if he had worked for two days straight. The boy ate an armies worth of rations in a few minutes afterwards.”
“It would seem that even magic has its drawbacks…Don’t know what the use of a weapon that leaves you so weak is, but to each their own,” Jacob said in a disapproving tone. “Enough yammering, get the boy inside before the sun dries out what little nutrients he has left.”
Bren half expected to be taken to the younger trainee’s barracks, but instead he found himself taken into the main section of the building and placed on a soft bed. Almost as soon as he was placed under the soft covers, a bowl of bright yellow broth was handed to him. His hand was still shaking a little, but most of the liquid in each spoonful reached his mouth. He didn’t feel hunger, or more to the point, he was too weak to know that he was famished, but he forced himself to eat the full bowl of yellow liquid. After he finished the first bowl, a second was brought and Bren tried to push it aside, as his stomach began to cramp.
“It’s not a choice,” Flynn said with an evil smile. “The Weapons Master said that you have to eat at least two bowls. If you don’t do it willingly, then we have his permission to pour it down your throat.”
Not wanting to give Flynn the satisfaction of getting to force feed him, Bren began eating the second bowl of broth. With each spoonful, his stomach protested, but he fought until the last of the bowl was empty.
As soon as the second bowl was taken away, Bren found it hard to keep his eyes open. He knew that he had slept for two days, but he still felt tired. Forcing himself to do so much when he had just awoken must have been too much for his body. Knowing that he was safe while within the Katanaga training grounds, Bren let his eyes close and he drifted off to sleep.
Bren didn’t know how long he slept. He woke as he heard footsteps enter his room. Letting his eyes open just a bit, he prepared to fight if needed. Turning his head slightly to see who it was, Bren noticed the short spiky blonde hair that he had not seen in days. “Cass, I figured that you would still be in the medical ward,” Bren said, sitting up in bed.
“I see that you got rid of that heavy sleeping habit of yours,” Cass shot back with a smile.
“Things have been a bit too hectic for me to enjoy a nice restful sleep, but that didn’t answer my question.”
“The Weapons Master came and collected me a few hours ago. I am mostly healed and he figured I had languished around for more than long enough. To tell the truth, I am surprised that he didn’t retrieve me earlier, but I did enjoy the rest…and the nurses,” Cass said with a wide grin. “Though things did get a bit more tense after your stunt in the Tower. I couldn’t learn much, it seemed that no one really knew what was going on. Some were even saying that you attacked the council.”
“Really? That would have been a thing to see. Maybe I should have,” Bren said thoughtfully. “But no, I just demanded that they quit making laws that treated non-humans as lesser creatures.”
“Then you attacked them,” Cass said laughing. “Just not with a sword. So, what do you plan to do now?”
“I don’t know. I have to find a way to show my right to set the laws, at least ones that deal with the normal populace. I doubt I can crack the wall within the Tower itself, but I still have a chance with the rest of the city.”
“Well political positioning isn’t really the Weapons Master’s strong point, but he might have a few ideas,” Cass offered.
“It is worth a shot. At the moment, I don’t have a clue where I should start. I could ask my mother, but I hate to run to her for help. She would just see it as a reason to drag me back home,” Bren said, his brow furrowed in thought. “Right now though, I am still tired and I can tell the sun is already out of the sky, so I think I will take a good night’s rest before I try to take over the world,” Bren said laughing.
“That might be a good idea,” Cass replied with a smile. “As for me, I need to see to my gear. It seems that the Weapons Master was not kind enough to get anyone to look after it while I was idling away in the medical ward.”
“Then I will see you at a more appropriate time,” Bren said, turning on his side and closing his eyes.
The next morning, Bren was not allowed to sleep in. Flynn was in his room well before the sun rose to make sure that he would make it to training. “The Weapons Master said that allowing you to lounge around in bed would only be bad for you,” Flynn said, tossing Bren a set of worn leather pants and a tattered shirt. “That’s all any of the
trainees had to spare. They should fit you well enough, but I would suggest you get something better before they fall apart.”
Grabbing the clothes, Bren smiled. Flynn still acted as if he was nothing more than an eyesore, but his words didn’t seem to hold the same venom as they had only a few days beforehand.
After getting dressed, Bren started to head for the supply building to start cleaning weapons, but as soon as he stepped out of his room he found the Weapons Master waiting on him. “Bren, I spoke to Cassius last night. He said that you might wish to talk to me.”
“Yes Weapons Master…It is about the council,” Bren replied hesitantly.
“Then it would be best if we talked inside of my office. I don’t think any of my trainees have wagging tongues, but one can never be too safe in cases such as these.”
As soon as they were within the safety of his office, Jacob shut the door firmly and took a seat behind his desk. “Now, what is it that you think I could help you with?”
“It is about the how to take control of the city, Weapons Master. I mean, I don’t need to seize it, but I need to make the people see me as their leader and not the Tower council,” Bren said, trying to explain what he wanted.
“I see,” Jacob said, moving his hand up to his chin, brow furrowed in thought. “As a king, I wouldn’t know how to handle this, but I can tell you how I would handle taking over a troop of soldiers from an unworthy commander. Whenever you are placed over a new group of soldiers, you must assert yourself. For you, that would mean a show of power or strength. Next, you show what kind of leader you will be. For the army that would be a strong leader, a harsh leader, there are many kinds, but soldiers feel more comfortable once they know your true character.”
“So I need a base of power, like a throne, and I need to get out among the people and let them get to know me, but I also need to show that I have the power to enforce my reign…Is that what you are saying?” Bren asked, trying to muddle through the Weapons Master’s words.
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