Before Thomas can answer him, the entire room becomes silent and all eyes shift to the food line. A middle-aged, female half-elf with a pink brushcut and lavender eyes calmly makes her way across the room. The stoic woman moves on legs of highly defined, corded muscle and her footsteps are barely audible. She sits at a table far in the back with a single chair positioned so that whoever sits there can see everything in the room. Luke hears students whispering about this woman and realizes that this is the famous mercenary, Selenia Hamilton.
“Impressive,” Luke admits as she sits down.
The talking starts up again, but it isn’t as loud as before. Selenia lets her eyes glide over the room, taking her time with her breakfast. At one point her cold gaze rests on Luke and she spends a few seconds examining the newcomer. Those few seconds feel like minutes to the young forest tracker who tries not to make direct eye contact.
“She is pretty amazing for someone shorter than five foot five,” Thomas whispers with obvious pride. “Bet you didn’t realize how short she would be. Selenia has a massive presence about her, so her appearance tends to throw people off. Still, nobody in their right mind would mess with her. A year ago I got to see her fight in an exhibition match against a visiting knight of Serab. She beat him into the ground using a wooden longsword while he was still wearing his platemail. That woman is more dangerous than any demon from the Chaos Void.”
Nimby takes a bite out of a pear and chuckles. “I wouldn’t say that, Thomas. She’s great at kicking butt, but demons are something else entirely. Although, I have heard a rumor that she defeated a Sword Dragon by herself, but I think that is just a rumor. If she was so powerful then she would still be going on adventures.”
“Why go on adventures when training people brings in better money?” Thomas argues as if Nimby had just said the most foolish statement in history. “She has the reputation, which is all you need to get by in this world. I always say that adventuring only gets you a reputation, scars, enemies, and nightmares.”
Nimby sticks his tongue out at the sergeant instructor before going back to his breakfast. Thomas considers continuing the argument until he notices that his food is beginning to get cold. He finishes his open-face chicken sandwich in three gulping bites. Luke picks at his food as he looks over at Selenia who is no longer paying any obvious attention to him. Though, he still feels like he is being watched by the headmistress.
“I agree that there is no guaranteed money in being an adventurer,” Luke says absentmindedly. “Yet, there is something to be said for people who sacrifice a stable life in order to help others. I personally think that money isn’t everything, sir, but that’s just my way of thinking. Besides, carrying a fortune on your back would break your spine. If you want to make money then you should become a merchant or a soldier.”
Thomas lets out a bellowing laugh causing everyone to look in his direction. He reaches over to give Luke a numbing slap on the shoulder, which knocks Luke and his chair a foot away from the table. The half-elf quickly steadies the chair on one leg before tipping it back to all four legs.
“You’re a strange kid, Luke,” Thomas declares with a thoughtful shrug. “Our goals seem to be different, but I like what I’ve seen and heard so far. You have guts and you say what is on your mind. It is refreshing to hear honesty like that.”
“Thank you. What are your goals?” Luke asks, grinning at the large man.
“My goal is to get the rank and skill around here so that I can join the staff as a full-time teacher. Either that or join an army where I can get money and prestige,” Thomas answers, slowly drinking his water. “I come from a poor farming village that put together the money for me to get trained here. I owe it to them to gain a position where I can help all of them. I guess that means I will be a hero in some way.” Thomas laughs as he notices that the other sergeant instructors are leaving. “Well, I should head out and get everything ready for my quarterstaff class. Remember that you start the morning run and all of your classes tomorrow, Luke. We’re in the dormitory with the green flag and the only free bunk is next to the door, so you will have to deal with a draft. That living space has an extra blanket kept in the wardrobe.”
Thomas gets to his feet and, after wiping his greasy hands clean on a cloth hanging from his waist, shakes Luke’s hand. With a devilish smile, he loudly says, “Good luck . . . Callindor.”
The mention of Luke’s last name starts a surge of hushed conversations and staring that makes him very uncomfortable. He knew it would have been found out by the other students at some point, but he wishes he could have had a day of peace. Now, he would become a big curiosity on campus. Luke puts the whispering and his own worried thoughts out of his mind by concentrating on his class schedule. Only monster lore poses a problem since he had a habit of falling asleep during classroom-style lectures. He is sure that he already knows the information from his grandfather’s lessons, but recalling the facts in a classroom did not come naturally to him. Even with bard’s memory, Luke used to freeze up when asked questions during his childhood schooling.
The half-elf’s thoughts stop when he notices that everyone is quiet and staring directly at him. He looks out of the corner of his eye to see Selenia glaring in his direction. Her hands are on the table, ready to push her to her feet. A feeling of panic runs through him while he tries to figure out what he did to get in trouble. A few beads of sweat start to form on his brow until he hears Nimby start talking to him.
“This is a really nice stiletto,” Nimby announces, waving the naked weapon around. “I haven’t seen craftsmanship like this in a long time.”
“Put that down! I’m going to get in trouble!” Luke yells, slapping the weapon out of the halfling’s hand. Nimby yelps in surprise and sucks on his sore thumb.
The blade spins in the air for a second before Luke moves his leg enough for the stiletto to land in its sheath. Selenia is already storming towards the table before Luke can say anything else to the halfing. She stops at the table, slamming both of her hands down with enough force to knock over every drink. Luke stares back at her without any idea of how to get out of trouble. The only plan in his mind is to put up a brave front and look for an opening to blame Nimby. It wasn’t a perfect plan and he didn’t want to get the curious halfling in trouble, but he had a job to do in this academy. Getting kicked out on the first day would be a serious setback.
“You are new here, little boy, so I will let you get away with your transgression. You probably were not told that carrying real weapons without permission is against my rules. Normally, I would have you run around my academy from morning to night, but it would not be fair. Keep in mind that unsheathing a weapon can be used as grounds for expulsion from my academy after I kick your teeth in,” Selenia warns Luke, her voice dripping with barely controlled rage. “As for you, Nimby, I am very disappointed and I expect you to be in my office after your morning classes. I am giving you detention duty tonight and a pay deduction for the next week. I trust that this will not happen again. Now, do you two idiots understand what I am saying or do you need a translator?” Some of the students around them begin to giggle at the question. Selenia points at them and they immediately begin doing push-ups on the dirt-covered floor.
“We understand. Thank you for the warning,” Luke replies. His eyes never leave Selenia’s until she turns away and walks out of the building. Everyone can feel the front door slam shut.
Eventually, Nimby builds up the courage to look up at Luke. “She’s always like that, but it's best to watch your step around here for a week. Anyway, I have to go help Kevin update the student files and put in my orders for woodshop supplies. We can get together later if you want an exciting tour of the academy. We’ve already gotten in trouble together, so we’re friends now. That’s the halfling way. Or is it my family motto? I always get those two mixed up. Just meet me by the fountain after dinner. Good luck avoiding more trouble.”
Nimby looks around before jumping onto the table and divi
ng out the nearest window. He hits the ground and rolls, making a dash toward the main building. Luke smiles and shakes his head as he gets up to leave for the dormitory. As the forest tracker walks by, the half-elven priest stops writing in his book and gives a stone-faced nod to him. Luke waves back and drops off his empty plate with Betty, the old woman smiling cheerfully and handing him an apple. Luke leaves the humid building, taking a deep breath of fresh air as a cool breeze whips around him.
He already misses the forest and being surrounded by the smell of trees. His most recent encounters did very little to put him at ease. As much as he enjoys human interactions, Luke never liked dealing with people who battled for superiority in conversations. He also can’t shake the feeling that the academy is going to be a lot like it was in his hometown. He shudders at the memories of never having a moment’s peace and everyone having lofty expectations of him that he would rather ignore. Although, he does feel like he has more freedom in the academy even with the wall blocking him from the forest. Luke breaks from thoughts and sets out across the courtyard, heading for a building with the green flag.
“It can’t be all bad, Luke,” he says to himself. “I already made a friend out of Nimby. He may be blunt and a source of trouble, but I have to admit that I like him. He doesn’t fit in with the seriousness of this place, which is almost suffocating me. I should be fair though. I’ve only been here a few hours, so it could be a lot more fun than I expect. Right, Stile . . .” Luke suddenly remembers that the noble shepherd is no longer by his side. He pushes away the melancholy feeling before it can take hold, making a mental note to visit Stiletto after lunch with a snack or two from Betty.
The dorm is made out of thick logs kept together by long, thin dowels and patches of hardened tree sap. The inside of the narrow building is an open space with nothing to separate each student’s personal space. Every student has a cot, a nightstand, a footlocker, and a small, lockable wardrobe, all made out of oak. At the back of the building is another door, which has the symbol of a drop of water etched and painted on it. No other students are around as Luke carefully arranges his gear in the wardrobe. A clean academy uniform is hanging on each door, so he lays one of them on his bed to look it over. The colors are royal blue and yellow with a line of white down each arm. A piece of paper falls out of a shirt pocket and Luke catches it, discovering that it is his schedule. The only open slots on the schedule are for eating and two hours of daily recreational time. He tucks the schedule under his pillow and locks his gear in the wardrobe, slipping the key into his boot cuff.
“I know that messenger told me to keep my mission a secret, but a lowly student can only do so much without raising a few questions. I can let my pride take a hit if it means keeping the heir safe,” Luke says to himself, lying down and thinking about his situation. “Nimby has access to the files that I need, so I can bring him in after I get to know him better. Thomas, Kevin, and Selenia are not going to work. Although part of me thinks Kevin might have a suspicion that I’m not what I seem. Thomas seems to want fame about as much as I do, so that would cause problems if I decided to go to him. Duggan, Jamie, and Betty would probably go to Selenia, so they’re out. I wouldn’t want to get Jamie and Betty involved anyway. I guess that leaves me with Nimby for now. He seems friendly and maybe he knows other people around here who can help. Of course, the level of trouble he’ll cause will make this whole affair ten times harder than it has to be.”
From the open windows he can hear the distant sound of wooden weapons clashing and instructors bellowing at students.
“Luke, you are in way over your head,” he mutters under his breath.
3
The small bathhouse behind the dormitory contains two in-ground basins with white towels hung along the walls. A thin coating of wax is on the wooden walls and ceiling to keep them from rotting in the moist air. Luke walks over to one of the basins that are already filled with steaming water. The bathwater is very warm and smells like pure river water with a subtle hint of cinnamon. He tests the temperature with his hand, noticing that the water churns as soon as he pulls his hand out. He can only guess that the basins are enchanted to clean the water after every use. The air becomes thick with the steam rising out of the basin until a low whirl begins. Luke looks up to see a square hole in the ceiling that has three whirling, metal blades in it. For a few seconds, he stares at the odd contraption that is pulling the steam out of the bathhouse. He decides to ignore it as long as it doesn’t make any loud noises or try to attack him.
The forest tracker is about to return to the dormitory to get his bathing supplies when he notices that the bathhouse is already fully stocked. Several compartments between the basins hold big bottles of shampoo and several bars of soap. Luke grabs the supplies only to lose some of his enthusiasm. The shampoo resembles yellow-tinted water and the soap feels like rough tree bark. Still, Luke is happy to have a warm bath that doesn’t include fish bumping into him and the occasional river nymph spying on him. It takes a few frustrating minutes of temperature testing and churning the water before Luke can choose which basin is the warmest.
He is about to fall asleep in the soothing water when he hears someone violently kick the door open. Acting out of instinct, he gets as much of his body under the water as he can with only the top of his head sticking out. He keeps his head pressed against the door side of the basin, using the wide rim as cover.
“Damn archery teacher,” the girl mutters as she strips off her sweaty clothes. “It isn’t my fault that the flimsy things break every time I try for a distance shot. Those lousy bows break whenever someone puts the slightest amount of strength behind them. Now Selenia is going to be mad at me again for walking out on a class and breaking more equipment. I don’t even know why I came to this damn academy in the first place. I could have gotten the same type of training in the military.”
“Excuse me! Isn’t this the boy’s bathhouse?” Luke asks as soon as she stops talking to herself. The girl whirls around and glares at the tuft of blonde hair that is visible in the other basin. She continues shedding her clothes, but she makes sure to use them to keep her covered. She blows at her ebony bangs that are stuck to her sweaty brow. The girl glances at the other basin and sees Luke’s reflection in the still water.
“All academy bathhouses are communal and coed, halfer,” the girl says nonchalantly, stepping into the other basin. She dunks her head underwater for a few seconds before coming up for air. “Selenia believes that this helps train a person’s self-control and gives them a resistance to seduction by an enemy of the opposite sex. Personally, I think she’s too cheap to build more bathhouses. Now, I am taking a bath here whether you like it or not. Behave yourself and they won’t have to scrub your blood off the floor. By the way, my name is Kellia.”
“Halfer?” replies Luke who, before he can stop himself, adds, “You lick your food bowl with that mouth?”
“Screw you, pointy ears,” Kellia angrily retorts, rubbing the shampoo into her hair. “It’s only a bigoted comment if you take it that way. Your kind is composed entirely of half-breeds who are neither human nor elven. That makes you half-and-half. There isn’t any way to change that. Are all half-elves this defensive about their lineage or are you a special case? I know Selenia has no problem with that term. In fact, she usually laughs when she hears it.”
She grabs a fresh bar of soap out of the nearest floor compartment and starts washing herself. Luke cautiously moves in his basin to get a brief look at Kellia. She stops washing herself and glares at him until he turns away again.
“You know, let’s forget it ever happened. My name is Luke,” he mentions, leaning against his basin so that his back is to Kellia. He can hear Kellia scrubbing the caked on dirt and sweat from her skin. Eventually, the scrubbing stops and is replaced by a gentle movement of the water. Luke ignores the temptation to see what she is doing and continues enjoying the warm water. Two small, wet slaps on the floor between the basins makes him think that she is
leaning over the edge of her basin. He refuses to risk getting in trouble again by looking at her.
Kellia feels the warm water relax her muscles and slowly runs her hands along her sore limbs. “So, you’re Luke Callindor. I expected you to be a snobby bastard like most of the newcomers this semester. Kevin's line about taking only the best is a total lie. Most of the students here are battle-hungry street kids who earned enough pity from rich folk that they were sent here to make something of themselves. Course, all of them are smart enough to avoid getting into trouble with Selenia like you did this morning. You’ll never make it through the advanced classes without thinking before you act.”
“It was an accident. I didn’t have time to drop my gear off before breakfast,” Luke rambles defensively. “Besides, I would like to remind you that Nimby pulled the stiletto out. I shouldn’t have to defend my intelligence to you.”
“You’re an idiot,” Kellia snaps.
“I bet that I’m a lot smarter than a certain black-haired girl who is trying to show her chest off. You obviously have no idea what you’re doing in your archery class,” the half-elf declares, his voice adopting a condescending tone. “Everybody knows that only composite bows are made for strength and I’m willing to bet that the instructor is starting you on elven shortbows. Those will break if you pull them too hard, so for distance you have to compensate for the low power by using an angle to arc the arrow instead of doing a straight shot. Elven shortbows were also designed with a maximum range of eighty feet for near precise aim, so there is no reason to try for a distance shot unless you’re desperate or a fool. To be fair, that knowledge is part of elven techniques, so you wouldn’t know anything about that until you make it into the advanced class like me.”
Kellia turns red in the face and hurls the bar of soap at the top of his head. Luke had already ducked under the water when he heard her grab the soap, so he calmly watches the projectile sail over his basin. He is about to resurface when a strong hand pushes him back under. Out of desperation, he tries to claw at her hand and wrist, but his fingernails are too short to break her skin.
Beginning of a Hero (Legends of Windemere) Page 6
