Moonlight War- Act I (The Realmers Book 2)

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Moonlight War- Act I (The Realmers Book 2) Page 4

by William Collins


  Bane just grinned, shrugging. “I don’t know, Macey. A few people died.”

  “No,” she whispered, unable to comprehend it.

  “Yeah.” Bane frowned. “One Apprentice who snuffed it was called Elijah something. Someone named Emillia died too. Both got eaten alive.”

  “Madagant!” a new voice shouted.

  She turned to see Tyrell and Ren walking down the aisle between two bookcases, both Arch-Realmers looked furious.

  “Why are you even joking about that?” Tyrell continued.

  “It’s okay, Joelle,” said Ren. “No Venators were killed. Bane is being unbelievably cruel.”

  “You little—” Joelle lunged at the laughing Bane, but Tyrell held her back.

  “Don’t rise to it. It’s what he wants,” Tyrell said, scowling.

  “Sorry.” Bane smirked. “I swear that’s what I heard. Must’ve been wrong. Easy mistake to make.

  “C’mon,” Ren said to Tyrell, “we’ll be late for Summoning class if we don’t hurry.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Tyrell paused before he left. “Try to ignore him, Joelle. And Bane, stop spreading nasty lies, or the Masters will hear about it.”

  “Whatever, Instructor’s pet,” Bane said as Tyrell and Ren moved away.

  Joelle’s fear at what could’ve happened to people she cared about had turned to rage, but she tried to shove it down and focus on finding Elijah and Emi instead.

  “Well? What are you waiting for?” said Bane. “Leave. The mere sight of you makes me want to vomit.”

  “Up yours, Madagant,” she snarled. “I’ll leave of my own free will, not because you tell me to.”

  The Mace and the Madagant families had been embroiled in a feud for over three centuries now. No one knew when it started, but there were some prevalent rumours. One theory was that it was over a woman. She’d chosen to marry Xing Mace over Viktor Madagant, who’d sworn vengeance from that day forth. The other rumour was that the rivalry stemmed from the duel between Alia Mace and Hector Madagant, where Hector cheated, permanently wounding Alia. The Madagants strenuously denied both stories, claiming they hated the Maces because they stole much of the Madagant’s immense fortune long ago. Joelle didn’t know which theory was true, yet she suspected the feud was the Madagants’ fault.

  “Yeah, whatever, pipsqueak, just go already. Why don’t you run some laps around the Fortress? Quick, before you get as fat as your father.”

  “You’ve got serious problems, nymph,” she said over her shoulder as she turned to go.

  “What did you call me?” He leapt to his feet, face distorted in anger.

  “A half-nymph; it’s what you are. I don’t know why you try to deny it.”

  Bane smouldered. For once he didn’t have a spiteful comeback at the ready.

  As she walked away, Bane must’ve remembered something that was bound to rile her up and had to get the last word.

  “I heard your father got badly injured a while back. Shame he didn’t do everyone a favour and die, isn’t it? Veneseron would be a better place without that fat…”

  He didn’t get any further as Joelle pounced on him, sending several books and chairs flying as they both fell to the floor. Her nails clawed at his face as she shrieked in anger.

  “Get off me, you freak,” Bane roared, shoving her away and crawling to his feet.

  “You're the freak!” Joelle screamed back.

  Bane bristled as people drew closer, intrigued by the sounds of the fight. He threw his chair across the room and stormed from the chamber, swearing violently under his breath.

  Joelle hurried the other way, opposite the one that insufferable Madagant had taken.

  *

  It was strange; Evan had gone from the worst day in his life, to one of the best. He’d never truly known what it was like to have friends before coming to Veneseron, to be accepted. He’d also never laughed so much as those first hours being reunited with his friends. It was the best medicine after being held hostage and tortured by Kurrlan. It kept the demon-spawn revelations at the back of his mind too. Evan knew he shouldn’t ignore it, but there was nothing he could do about it right now.

  The following morning after his return party, the lot of them slumped in one of the castle’s many recreation rooms. Every rec room was remarkably different. This one was vast yet cosy, with shiny wooden walls and floorboards, complete with dark blue armchairs and sofas set before a colossal hearth.

  Both Jed and Xavier were nursing (apparently agonising) hangovers. Whilst the others chatted, Evan gazed up in pleasant wonder at the crystal chandelier that hung above their heads, reflecting the firelight.

  “We might be the first Novices ever to have killed demons,” Xavier said proudly.

  “Do you reckon they'll promote us to Apprentices?” Emillia asked. “Or maybe even Mid-Realmers.”

  “If we were Mid-Realmers we'd be going on missions.” Brooke looked half-scared, half-excited. “We're not ready for that, are we?”

  “We have to pass our trials to move up the ranks,” said Elijah. “But the battle had to be way harder than any trial. We'll have to wait for Vanderain to return, I reckon.”

  Evan saw Brooke’s face fall. She was probably wondering if Vanderain had found Arantay.

  “I wish he’d hurry up, I still haven’t even seen this Vanderain,” Jed said. He then looked down at his white uniform. “Hmm, do you think I’d look good in Apprentice blue, Emillia?” he asked, undoing the top button of his Novice shirt.

  Emillia chucked a pillow at him.

  Their talk was interrupted as a girl burst through the doors, looking wildly around.

  She was short, with black hair pulled into a high ponytail that highlighted a face dusted with dark freckles. Her eyes were a deep, dusky blue.

  “Oh, thank Rueda, you're okay,” she cried.

  “Joelle!” Elijah and Emillia exclaimed simultaneously.

  “No way! When did you get back, Macey?” Xavier bounded to his feet to join Emi and Elijah as they hugged the newcomer.

  “I've been looking all over this damn stronghold for you guys. I just heard about the attack, from Bane bloody Madagant. I needed to know you were all okay.”

  “We're fine now, don't worry.” Elijah grinned. “And I've told you before, ignore anything Madagant says. He's full of Ushk.”

  “Oh, guys,” Elijah addressed Evan, Jed and Brooke. “This is Joelle Mace. She's been in Veneseron even longer than me. And she’s the finest marksman in the Fortress.”

  “Hey.” Joelle smiled at them all. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Evan and Brooke introduced themselves politely. Jed, however, sauntered over.

  “Hey, I’m Jed Jagger. Some people call me the ‘real’ chosen one, not that Adara dude. I’m amazing at everything, but my marksmanship could use some work. If you’re as good Elijah says, maybe you and I could have some private target practice lessons?”

  “Don’t try anything, Jed.” Elijah chuckled. “Joelle could kick your ass any day.”

  “New recruits, I’m guessing?” Joelle raised her eyebrows at Jed.

  “Not that new,” said Xavier. “You've been away for four months.”

  “I know. It's gonna take me forever to catch up on all the training modules,” Joelle sighed. “I was only in Alderuu for six weeks, but a week there is almost three weeks in Veneseron time.”

  Elijah smirked. “Urkzal will be furious. He’ll be waking you up in the early hours to teach you battle techniques you've missed.”

  “Speaking of, I'm already late for training with him,” Joelle groaned. “I'll catch up with you afterward, yeah?”

  “Definitely,” said Emillia, hugging her again.

  “I look forward to getting to know you too.” Joelle waved at Evan, Jed and Brooke as she left.

  “Hey,” Jed called after her. “She didn’t give me an answer.”

  *

  It was early evening as Evan made his way over to Ethanc’s bar.

  Dying sunl
ight splashed across the horizon as he walked across the Novice courtyard to Dragonrock castle. Inside, the corridors were heavily lit and shadows danced fitfully on the walls.

  Evan entered a narrow passageway he often used as a shortcut. Halfway down the passage, two pixies loitered by a flowerpot, eating the chocolate petals of the plant inside it. Suddenly a shape darted from a nearby alcove, seizing Evan and throwing him against the wall.

  Sintian Stray loomed before him, the flickering shadows playing eerily across his face. His eyes burned black, like two fathomless tunnels drilled into his skull.

  “Evan Umbra,” he hissed. “I haven’t seen your face since the demons carried you to their world. What was it like? Did they torture you?”

  “Get off me.” Evan shoved him away and kept on walking.

  Sintian followed close on his heels. “What happened Evan? Was it a Dread Lord?”

  Evan had never understood Sintian's behaviour. A couple of months ago he'd been setting golems to attack him and Jed. But the last time he saw Sintian he'd come, bloodied sword in hand, to help them.

  “I’ve been in the Archives, researching you.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “Because of your demon magic,” Sintian said simply.

  Evan’s stomach clenched.

  “I know you can do it,” Sintian continued vindictively. “I saw you, the night of the invasion. You used it to kill those fiends. You ripped out their souls Evan. You used their own sorcery against them. No human has ever been known to use demon magic, it's impossible.”

  “That wasn’t me.” Evan shook his head. “You’ve got it wrong. I didn’t conjure that…mist.”

  “Yes, Evan. Yes you did.” Sintian grabbed Evan’s tunic, his face was filled with a dark passion. “Tell me, please. You know me, I don’t beg, but I need to know how you did it. Who taught you? Was it a Master here? Did you find it in some ancient book? Tell me.”

  “Stop,” Evan cut through Sintian’s feverish deluge of questions. “I told you, that wasn’t me.” He pushed Sintian away.

  “Evan, you misunderstand me. I don’t think you’re a freak, but they will. The other Realmers won’t understand. They don’t respect the amount of power we have as Venators. But me and you, we know. I'm blessed in all the arts, Healing, Illusion and every element. I’m one of the few Venators to ever be both a Caustic and Serene type. But…I can’t do what you do. You need to teach me. I need that power.”

  Throughout Sintian’s monologue Evan had grown increasingly unnerved.

  “Why?” was the first thing that came into his head.

  “Why would I want power? What a stupid question.” Sintian sneered, “Why wouldn’t anyone want to be stronger?”

  “Sorry, but I can’t help you.”

  Evan turned to leave, but Sintian’s arm snaked out to grab him.

  “Did you kill her?”

  Evan shuddered as a coldness consumed him. “Kill? What are you on about now?”

  “Cera,” Sintian snarled. “It’s a cover-up, isn’t it? You killed her by accident with your demon magic and everyone’s lying to save your ass. When that demon knocked me out you two were together. Then you get captured and not her. Either the demons killed her, or you did.”

  “No, that’s not what hap…”

  Sintian cut across him, “You’re too weak to control your power, obviously. We need to find a way for you to give it to me. I’m strong enough to wield it. You don’t want to accidentally kill anyone else do you?”

  “You’re wrong. Leave me alone.”

  “I’ll tell the others, your friends, all the other Venators. They’ll think you’re a freak, or in league with demons. Just tell me the secret to gaining demon magic and I’ll leave you alone.”

  “I can’t do demon magic!” Evan shouted, ripping his arm out of Sintian’s grip and stalking away.

  “Liar!” Sintian roared after him. “No human can possess demon sorcery. What are you?” He repeated the last question incessantly as Evan rounded the corner.

  Sintian’s words continued to accuse Evan in his thoughts long after Sintian himself had faded from view.

  *

  Back in his room, Evan’s mind lingered on what Sintian had said. He’d managed to distract himself by hanging out with the gang at Ethanc’s immediately afterwards. But now he was alone, Evan’s demonic origins haunted him once more. You can’t do anything about it, so stop dwelling on it. He tried to calm himself down. He should be happy; the threat of Kurrlan was gone. All he had to focus on now was his training.

  Slowly, his eyelids became heavier and heavier.

  He knew he was dreaming, yet he couldn’t wake himself up. Images flashed by in a never-ending blur. He saw the woman with the purple eyes, who’d appeared in his dreams before. She was draped in shadow, the only thing he could see were violet eyes as she sat on a black throne.

  He saw a girl alone in a white room. Clumps of her dark red hair had been pulled out and scratch marks emblazoned her face. Next Evan saw a boy who resembled himself, yet his face was a pale mask of fury, surrounded by a long mane of dark hair. He stood at the head of a gargantuan demonic army, and black mist swirled around his boots like writhing snakes.

  Flashes of other people flitted through his mind, a kaleidoscope of faces that felt familiar but which he’d never seen before.

  Who were they?

  Abruptly, the images froze on one final person, him. Evan gazed at a clone of himself who blinked back, his grey eyes shining red as a black mist seeped from his body. His reflection grinned at Evan before his chest exploded outwards in a shower of black blood as a demonic hand pushed itself through. The mist billowed around both Evans’, covering everything in darkness. The last thing Evan saw was his reflection leaping toward him, its face demonic.

  He sat up suddenly on his bed. Night had turned to morning and the suns shone through his window. The sound of Evan’s panicked breathing were punctuated by the din of the kitchens nearby.

  “No, you idiots,” he heard Sniglog roar faintly. “Those orc oranges are for the jam, not my cheesecakes.”

  Evan got out of bed and dressed, trying not to dwell on nightmares he didn't understand.

  *

  “So you've been on four missions already?” Evan asked Joelle as their group entered the Banquet chamber.

  “Yeah, I was made a Mid-Realmer just under a year ago. Loads of people thought I was too young, but I proved them wrong.”

  Evan had gotten to know Joelle yesterday evening, as they all hung out in the rec rooms.

  “How was your first mission?” Brooke asked. “Was it really scary, or exciting?”

  “Optimum levels of both,” Joelle said. “Tyrell and Elijah’s brother Henry looked out for me though. The Masters make sure first timers are teamed up with at least one Arch-Realmer to guide them through it.”

  “Oh yeah,” said Elijah. “That was Henry’s last mission before he completed his training. He’s stationed full-time in New Zealand now.”

  “New Zealand?” Evan asked.

  “Yep, they’ve got an active Halfling population there, who are at war with the orcs that live underground.”

  “Flaming heck,” Jed muttered.

  “How come your latest mission took so long, Jojo,” Emi asked as they chose their food.

  “It was a spy mission, and they always take a while. My companions and I worked undercover as smugglers in a goblin-owned cartel that’d been killing fae folk and using their dust for drugs.”

  “Awesome, they've got sylph cereal today,” said Jed, oblivious to the conversation now, as he ran toward the food tables.

  As Evan retrieved his breakfast and sat down, he heard people around him talking about the demon invasion. So far Evan had learned from the gossip that Jimmy would've died from blood loss had Tyrell not healed him and Lyella had saved a High-Realmer girl’s life, after her stomach had been chewed open by a demon. Countless stories floated around the castles. But in classic teenager fashion, many
stories had been exaggerated. Evan was confident that Seth hadn’t saved ten Novices lives and slain a hundred demons for example, as he was claiming.

  As Evan tucked into his food, people around him discussed where they were during the battle.

  “Arch-Realmers saved our necks,” Blake said, two tables down. “Me and Seth would be demon chow if it wasn't for them. We were in the rec room watching the zombie games. We thought the strange noises was Xavier pulling one of his pranks. Then they all came bounding in. One of 'em was about to bite Arianna’s leg off before Bane Madagant cut its head in half.”

  “We were in the city,” said Tristan. “We were visiting the Miscellany Market when Master Urkzul's face appeared on this massive TV screen on top of a tower. Urkzal told everyone to grab their weapons and help destroy the demon invaders. We hitched a ride up to the battle on the back of these awesome troll dudes.”

  Evan heard the Venators on his other side discussing it too.

  “We were in the Archives,” Nena said. “There were so many of them. It was Domnican and Lok of all people that helped us fight back.”

  The chatter in the cavernous chamber suddenly cut off. Evan looked round to see Vanderain by the steel doors. Vanderain walked into the chamber slowly, appearing to somehow look at every Venator in the room with his strange silver eyes.

  “Greetings Realmers, I’d like to introduce myself to some of you, and re-introduce myself to others.” He spoke softly, yet commanded the chamber, his words perfectly audible.

  Evan was once again struck by how young Vanderain appeared, no older than mid-twenties at most.

  “For those of you recruited these past months I am Vanderain. I’m sure you’ve heard many an impressive tale about me, all exaggerated. The tales you’ve heard concerning me being an eccentric and possibly insane old coot, well, they might be closer to the mark.” He smiled at them warmly as he spoke, but the smile vanished as he bowed his head.

  “First, to you all, I owe my deepest apologies. In my absence a horror occurred, one I could have prevented if I hadn’t been so caught up in other affairs. But I vow, to never leave this Fortress for so long again. This realm is my priority and will always come first.” Vanderain paused. “I’m afraid there is one more bit of terrible news before we can move on from this tragedy. I feel it is my duty to always be honest to you. Tragically one of our Novices saw fit to strike a deal with the Dread Lord behind the attack.”

 

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