Beginning of a Hero (Legends of Windemere)
Page 8
“You believe me just like that? No doubt or question of this being true?” Luke asks suspiciously. “That . . . that doesn’t seem right for some reason.”
“Why shouldn’t I trust you? You’re a Callindor after all. You being here makes a lot more sense now,” Nimby casually says. “Besides, I told you my secret and you believed me.”
“Callindors are apparently incapable of lying and always have a great adventure in front of them,” Luke sarcastically claims. He quickly pushes the bitterness from his mind. “Look, Nimby, all I need is for someone to help me find the heir. If you can get me a list of all the first year students then I can narrow it down to a handful of people. Also, if you know of anyone else who can be trusted with this secret then please bring me to meet with them. Do not recruit anybody without telling me about them first. I doubt that I have a lot of time to find the heir, so I can’t waste time covering unexpected leaks of information. I can only use trustworthy allies.”
Nimby pulls another apple out of one of his hidden pockets, thinking carefully as he fills the air with wet crunching noises. “I may know some people, but they are usually pretty busy around this time of the year. I can ask Selenia or Kevin if they can help. They have experience in stuff like this.”
“No! Don’t go to them. Leave all of the major authority figures out of this because I need them to stay in the dark. If they found out, they would take over and I would be left in the dust. This is my mission and I know what I’m doing,” Luke explains with more aggression than he intended. “Another problem is that alerting Selenia and Kevin may cause them to act in a way that would tell the kidnappers that they are aware of the plot. That could change everything and more trouble can come from that. As far as I know, this Lich and his agents do not know that I am here to stop them. This element of surprise is all I have going for me right now.”
“Why would they steal your mission if it was given to you? Aren’t you a real hero just like them? Of course . . .” starts Nimby, who pauses to pick his next words carefully. “You are a lot younger than Selenia and Kevin. The other teachers are older than you as well from the looks of you. Come to think of it, you don’t look old enough to have that much experience in anything outside of training. Possibly a goblin hunt or two, but I wouldn’t think you’ve done anything more than that. How did you get this mission anyway?”
Luke turns bright red, his lip twitching a little as he stands up and begins pacing from the wall to a nearby birch tree. Nimby watches him and pulls out a wooden dagger that he begins to twirl in his hand. Luke tries to speak a few times, but stops and goes back to pacing. After several minutes, Nimby sits against the wall, switching his dagger for a metal and leather slingshot. Using pebbles, he knocks a few acorns out of a distant oak before Luke sits next to him. The half-elf avoids eye contact, his brow deeply furrowed as if he is making the biggest decision of his life.
“I’ve told you this much, so I guess more won’t hurt,” Luke claims with a tired glance at the sky. “I sort of lied to the messenger after saving him from the zombies. He was with a Paladin who had all of the information for this mission. The zombies, including a horse zombie, were busy eating the Paladin when I showed up and destroyed them. The messenger was thankful and thought I was some kind of hero. I was going to tell him that I was only a young forest tracker who recently left home with no experience. But then he mentioned this mission and I realized that this was my chance to prove I have what it takes to become a real hero.”
Nimby nods his understanding before asking, “Why is it so important for you to prove that you’re a hero?”
“Most of my ancestors are known for great deeds, so I have a prestigious name to live up to. I don’t want to be one of the few Callindors in history who falls into obscurity or is known as a failure,” Luke explains, his voice becoming prouder with every word. “My grandfather is one of the best forest trackers and I hear stories of his success in every tavern that I walk into. My father became such a talented weaponsmith that even dwarves praise his work.”
“I will admit that I’ve heard of your father and grandfather,” Nimby politely interjects.
“I need to gain the same amount of fame that they have if not more. So I told the messenger that I have had some adventures that I never had. I did try to make it believable, so I didn’t go further than a fight with an ogre. I know the tactics that I would use in such a fight, but I have never been given a chance to employ them,” Luke continues, repeatedly running a hand through his blonde hair. “Somewhere in my introduction letter the messenger further exaggerated my exploits. He said that I participated in a dragon hunt, which I managed to talk my way through with Kevin when I arrived. So as far as Kevin and Selenia know, I have had several adventures and I am here to improve on my previous training.”
“So you’re nothing more than a kid who wants to make a name for himself,” the halfling states to clarify his own thoughts. “Well, this situation seems to be a lot stickier than I thought. At least it will make a very good story in the long run. Everyone loves a story with an underdog, especially if he wins and survives. Are you sure you can handle all this?”
“I’ll die trying,” Luke replies, getting to his feet. He extends his hand for Nimby to shake before he sees the worried look on the halfling’s face.
“I see. Well,” Nimby starts, his voice fading into a long pause. “I have to get some sleep before the run tomorrow. We halflings need a good ten hours of sleep every day to stay cheerful. This should be a lot of fun, Luke. Thanks for letting me help.”
“I should be thanking you for the help,” Luke admits as Nimby shakes his hand and they begin walking toward the large teacher’s dormitory. “I’m going to do some thinking on the wall walkway. When can you get me that list of first years?”
Nimby smiles brightly at Luke. “I can get it to you right after breakfast.”
Luke stops and looks at the halfling with a stern expression. “I meant without stealing the list and getting us into even more trouble.”
“In that case, give me until after lunch,” Nimby says, trying very hard not to think like a thief. “You’ll have some hard classes like handicap fighting and blacksmithing to concentrate on anyway. I took a peek at your schedule when I was between classes. Good luck getting through your first day, Luke. Some people don’t even make it past lunch without snapping and leaving a trail of tears through Visindor.” Nimby laughs at Luke’s nervous expression. “I’m exaggerating. They’re usually carted away because they’re too broken to walk. Well, good luck.”
“He's a loyal thief and liar. This could be the start of a great partnership,” Luke whispers as he watches Nimby enter the dorm through a hidden side door.
*****
The defensive wall is covered in shadows except for a single torch at each of the corner turrets. Every few seconds, the translucent shadow of an archer passes across the opening of each turret. They are mysterious figures that, according to the students, never leave the turrets. Luke had spent an hour listening to a friendly student explain his theory that the turret guards were imprisoned spirits of the mercenaries who died under Selenia’s command. As Luke stands above the locked front doors of the academy, he guesses that the archers are probably some of the advanced archery students or the senior staff. Luke turns his attention to the forest, watching as a few of the elven and half-elven students sneak across the open field to Visindor. Luke watches in envy as the last slender shadow vanishes into the tree line and Canst, the green moon, rises above the trees. A little bit of Tavon the blue moon can be seen over the southern horizon. The atmosphere is very peaceful, so the bruised and exhausted half-elf falls asleep for three hours.
Luke begins to dream about flying, which he barely enjoys because he quickly remembers what inevitably happens. As he passes over a gathering of lightning belching clouds, the flying stops and he begins to fall like a stone. It is a terrifying plummet to the ground as he expected, but he immediately senses that something is dif
ferent this time. The ground is coming up faster and the wind is louder than when he normally has this nightmare. He looks around and sees a towering wall of trees that are just out of reach. Below him is a grove of bleeding roses with their metallic thorns glinting in the sporadic lightning. Luke is about to yell when he hits the roses with a brief, and oddly muffled, thud.
The half-elf wakes up in pain as soon as his body hits the bramble bush at the bottom of the wall. He has very little time to dwell on how he fell or on the searing pain running through his body. His attention is quickly drawn to a form leaping off the wall, landing behind him as he scrambles out of the bush. Luke gets to his feet and receives several kicks to his midsection, which he notices is still numb from all the beatings it took throughout the day. A quick shake of his head gives him enough clarity to block a flurry of punches aimed at his face. The attacker sticks to the shadows as Luke tries to get a better look. Whoever it is eventually slams a knee into Luke’s gut, knocking the wind out of him. He curls up, gasping for air as his attacker finally steps into the green moonlight. Luke defiantly groans when Selenia pulls him to his feet by his nose.
“You are a very deep sleeper for a forest tracker, which explains why you travel with the dog. He acts as a set of eyes to watch over you while you sleep like a corpse. A smart move that shows you are aware of this problem. And it is a problem, boy,” Selenia says, letting go of Luke’s nose and handing him a handkerchief. “Nobody will hire a warrior who could sleep through an alarm. If you want, I can have Thomas work with you on this. Nothing fancy. Just a few surprises while you sleep as long as it is not before anything that you would need to be well-rested for.” She glares at Luke, stopping his imminent complaint. “Of course you want me to have Thomas do this to you. Why else would you come to my academy unless you wanted me to mold you into a real warrior?”
Luke is about to answer, but Selenia’s left hand shoots out to pinch his lips closed. He struggles like a fish caught on a hook with Selenia easily batting his hands away with her free hand. Luke tries to kick her, but she swiftly blocks the strike with her leg and retaliates with a smack upside his head.
She lets go when she sees anger and determination cross the youth’s face. “That is a look that I like to see in my students. Your performance tonight was not bad for an amateur who just woke up. This little test will allow me to allocate your open class slots to courses that you obviously need. You have good reflexes and instincts which, I am sure, are the tools that got you through a tournament of novices and thugs with ease. Now, you are in my academy and you are an advanced student. That means my expectations for you will be greater than you realize. Specifically, I want more out of you than this, Luke.”
“My earlier training didn’t include much in the way of hand-to-hand combat. I do much better with swords,” Luke admits, cautiously eyeing the headmistress. Selenia suddenly runs her hand through her dull pink brushcut, which causes Luke to tense up.
“A real warrior must be skilled in more than one fighting style. If you were to be disarmed then you would be worthless,” the former mercenary coldly lectures, holding Luke’s attention with a piercing gaze. “I saw that you were signed up for the basic classes required for an advanced student seeking to be a wandering warrior. You were given a free period after breakfast to practice what you wish, but I am bringing you into the martial arts class. I teach that class personally, so students get in by my invitation only. Since Duke Solomon sent you here, I am obligated to make you more than an average forest tracker. Kevin did not tell me who your original teacher was, but I knew the moment I saw you that it was Talos Doubleblade of Haven, master of the Whirlwind of Uli style. I have met several of his students in the past with a few even coming here for extra training. You will find that Talos is much more lenient than I am. Most of his students dropped out by the end of their first month because of my methods. If you are one of these people then I want you to walk away right now and never look back.”
Luke feigns boredom by scratching his head and yawning. He turns to walk away, but Selenia viciously spins him around and tries to backhand him across the face. This time Luke ducks and delivers a solid punch to her stomach. She takes a step back before launching a straight kick at Luke. The younger half-elf jumps to the side, making a slashing chop with his left hand. Selenia catches him by the wrist and attempts a counterattack with a knee strike to Luke’s chin. He barely twists out of the way, letting her knee strike his shoulder. A loud pop can be heard from his shoulder, but Luke bites his lower lip to stop himself from screaming.
“Dislocated shoulder. This injury happens very often around here. Children forget that there are limits to their flexibility,” Selenia says to herself before letting go of his arm. “I recommend that you go to the infirmary before heading back to your bed.”
“It hurts a lot, but there’s no reason to waste the healer’s time,” Luke growls, gritting his teeth in pain.
Selenia watches as he carefully sets his shoulder and walks to the defensive wall. Luke slams his shoulder against the solid wood causing another loud pop to break the silence of the academy. This time Luke falls to his knees gasping for air, slowly rotating his sore arm. He fails to hold back a few tears that well up in his eyes from the numbing pain.
Through clenched teeth, Luke proudly declares, “I have been under the tutelage of my grandfather, Talos ‘Doubleblade’ Callindor, since I was five. He was very strict with me because I am his grandson and not a regular student. I have been stabbed, slashed, burned, beaten, punched, kicked, and every other manner of abuse that comes with warrior training. I am not some troll-brained punk with a pair of sharpened swords and delusions of grandeur. So, I can back up every word that I let escape my lips. I suggest that you remember that and not group me in with those who probably left my grandfather before they did any real training.”
“Very well then, young Callindor. I will be watching to see if you live up to your name in this academy,” Selenia warns him, poking a strong finger into Luke’s chest. “I believe that you have already been told the basic rules about fraternizing with female students and that there is no fighting outside of classes. Drinking is also prohibited upon penalty of several chores that will be decided upon by me after we confirm that you were drinking. I am not talking about simple chores like dusting or cleaning dishes, but chores that will make you beg for a day of running laps around this academy. As for your stunt with Kellia . . . I am not amused. She was wrong to start with you in the bathhouse and you were wrong to publicly embarrass her. Remember that there is always a chance you two will have to work together in this academy or after you return to the world outside these walls. I will have no shameful incidents from any of my students, including some pride-filled child from a famous family. Do you understand me?”
“Can I go get some sleep before I beat you in that race tomorrow?” Luke asks, standing a few inches away. Selenia clenches her fist and throws a punch at Luke, which he catches with ease. They smirk at each other as Luke cautiously backs away toward the direction of the Elfstar dormitory. He gets a few steps before Selenia holds up her hand for his attention.
Her lavender eyes glimmer while she slowly moves her tongue around the inside of her mouth. “Kevin tells me that I should be more supportive of my students instead of simply yelling at them.”
“It couldn’t hurt to give us a little praise at times,” Luke agrees, waiting for a surprise attack.
“You learn pretty fast, young Callindor. Truthfully, you are one of the fastest learners that I have ever had in this academy. I noticed that you started using sword maneuvers with your arms to make up for your lack of martial arts training. Know that adaptability will get you far in this academy,” Selenia explains, obviously not used to complimenting others. “As for your challenge to a race, I accept it. Just know that nobody has ever passed me during the morning run. I suggest you let tomorrow morning be another lesson. You have to learn not to challenge everything under the four moons.”
4
The deadly Caster Swamp sits a quarter-day’s walk northeast of Selenia’s academy. Any travelers without prior knowledge of the area will quickly find themselves lost among the deep, bubbling bogs and patches of gnarled harpy birches. It is a ravenous terrain that devours the unprepared with tangle bogs and hidden carving pits. As lethal as they are, these natural traps are the least of a traveler’s worry. The Caster Swamp is home to hundreds of predatory species created by both forbidden magic and nature over the centuries. Due to these unique creatures, the area is a favorite of hunters and bestiary chroniclers who are brave enough to challenge the swamp. It is because of these foolish adventurers and scholars that professional forest trackers have created a handful of safe zones within the first four miles of the swamp. All attempts to establish safe zones further into the swamp have been met with heavy fatalities. Those that go beyond the final safe zone rarely return with their body and mind intact, if they manage to return at all. Aside from the unique predators, the interior is crawling with savage lycanthropes, empowered undead, and a barbaric tribe of the reptilian raiders known as the giltris.