“Brooke, where’ve you been?” he asked, clearly relieved at the sight of her.
Brooke knew he'd see the blotchiness of her face and the redness around her eyes.
“Have you been crying? Is it because of Arantay?”
She shrugged wordlessly, stepping back and allowing Elijah into her room. He dropped down into the single armchair, peering at her intently, as if looking for signs of illness.
“Elijah I’m fine.”
“What happened in the forest, Brooke? Is he back?”
“Yes, but I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Did he hurt you?” Elijah jumped up at once, his tawny eyes flashing.
“Not in that way,” Brooke mumbled. “I’m okay. I needed some time to myself, that’s all. Time to think.”
Elijah frowned. “So, you’ve been sitting in your room for almost two days?”
“No I--I’ve gone down to the Banquet chamber for meals. I went early, when fewer people were around.”
Elijah said nothing, but his expression showed his concern.
“Uhh, ignore me," Brooke sighed, angry with herself. “This whole thing is stupid. I shouldn’t let him affect me this badly. I just need to forget and move on. There’s no point feeling sad and alone all the time.”
“You’re not alone,” Elijah moved forward to put an arm around her.
“That sounds so cheesy, Elijah.” She smiled up at him.
“Yeah, I know, but I’m full of cheese. C’mon then, you’ve missed enough training already. You won’t pass the tests, and we’ll be taking them together,” Elijah said, gesturing the Serene badge on his chest.
Once Elijah had coaxed her out of her room, Brooke was ready for her first day as a Mid-Realmer. Anatomy training, the magical art of transmuting one’s body, like morphing an arm into a steel hammer, was her first lesson. The Master was an elderly man named Greller. His round face was bespectacled and his head balding through the middle, though the sides still had a reasonable amount of white fuzz. Brooke thought Greller was a good instructor; strict but fair.
As she'd expected, the training was harder than before, probably more so since she hadn’t been an Apprentice for long. Her previous Anatomy training had consisted of spells like turning hair into tiny steel spikes to throw at enemies. In today's lesson, they were learning to convert their body density so they could jump inhumanly high, a significant advancement which required a lot more sorcery.
Brooke and Elijah had great fun leaping across the length of the chamber and landing on the giant pillows. Every Venator in the room could only make two or three jumps before their magic depleted and they had to wait for it to regenerate.
Next was Illusion with Master Padrake. Padrake was a tall, skinny man, always clad in a startling array of clothes. Today he’d donned a tricorn hat, which matched his ridiculous French moustache and made him look like a pirate. Brooke had no idea why Padrake wore a pink leopard-print suit, however.
Both Joelle and Elijah were in the chamber, too. Although Joelle had been a Mid-Realmer for longer than her, she was in a couple of Brooke's classes, catching up on training she’d missed whilst on missions.
The lesson began with Padrake throwing a knife above their heads. A few people, including Elijah, screamed as the knife streaked past, blurring and becoming ten knives. Brooke had no idea which knife was the real one until it came to a stop, embedded in the door by Elijah's ear. Elijah looked like he was about to faint.
“Very effective against most demons,” said Padrake as he made the knife fly back into his hand. “Almost every demon, except the Dread Lords, lack anything near human intelligence. If the situation arises and you need to throw a weapon at them, this simple trick will make sure your target cannot evade you.”
Padrake then instructed them on performing mirror image magic themselves. By lesson’s end Joelle mastered the skill, whilst Brooke had managed to make her knife mirror itself just once. Elijah had somehow made his knife snap in half.
Brooke's first day of Mid-Realmer training had both of her new classes. First was Culinary Survival, taught by Mistress Peezer, a portly woman with a fantastic afro twice the size of her head.
“Culinary Survival is vital when roaming the Realms,” Peezer began. “When your missions take you to certain realms you will be required to take food with you. For example, if you’re stationed on a demon world for an extended period of time, you’ll need a few sandwiches. But when you find yourself without food, you’ll need to rely on what I teach you. I will educate you on what plants are safe to eat in certain realms, what bizarre creatures you can cook, and more. You’ll need to know the difference between monster-mushrooms and leviathan-leaves and all the things you can harvest out there, in any climate, on any terrain.”
Mistress Peezer continued the lecture for an hour.
“Right then, next time we'll be delving into the forest and I'll be showing you which plants you can brew for a healing tonic and which plants will cause your lips to turn green and swell until they explode.”
Lastly, her day ended with Weaponry. She'd expected Arnvar to be on the courtyard to meet her and the other Mid-Realmers. Brooke had already come to the conclusion that her private sessions with Arantay were over. Don't think about him, remember!
Instead, she was surprised, and a little scared, to find Urkzal awaiting them.
The seven-foot orc was formidable to say the least, thoroughly battle-scarred with a chunk of his ear missing, menacing yellow tusks emerging from thick gray lips, and multiple piercings dotted all over his leathery green skin.
Urkzal informed them he would be their Weaponry Master now. Brooke recalled that Urkzal often said he didn’t train weaklings. Now she was a Mid-Realmer, Brooke guessed she was no longer deemed one.
Today they performed mock battles with quarterstaffs. Thanks to her fleet footwork, Brooke narrowly managed to best Elijah in a duel. She lost her next duel to Joelle, however, who was proficient in every single weapon Veneseron had to offer; which was a lot.
As soon as training finished, Brooke headed for her room to collapse from exhaustion. She was grateful for the training, as it took her mind off a certain scarlet-haired Elfpire.
*
“Don’t listen to what those idiots said,” Jed told Evan as they entered the Banquet chamber for lunch.
“It’s all right,” he replied. “I’m more annoyed about what they said to Emillia.”
“Don’t worry, they’ve always been immature and nasty idiots since I’ve been here,” Emi said as they sat down at the table Izekiel and Joelle already occupied.
“Who are you talking about?” Zeke looked up.
“These two Apprentices,” said Evan, “Fenik and Firk.”
Joelle scowled. “Ah, unlucky. I’d hate to be stuck in training with those two.”
“Who are they?” Evan asked.
“They’re part of the Fonishi family, one of the Venator families that live in the city,” Joelle said distastefully. “You saw their long noses and pointed ears right? They’re descended from Komla Realmers who migrated to Veneseron a couple centuries ago.”
“Komla?” Evan frowned. He recognised the name faintly. “Did we learn about them in training?”
“You probably heard me talk about them,” Zeke said. “The Komla are an alien race that are sworn enemies to the Yurod. Firk and Fenik are only distantly related to them, so they don’t have six fingers and orange skin like full Komla. They still loathe me though, like a pure Komla would hate a Yurod.”
“Interesting,” said Jed. “They did have an orange glow to their skin, now I think about it.”
Evan tried to push Firk and Fenik’s remarks from his mind, but as he looked around the Banquet chamber, he caught a few other Venators stealing looks at him. A couple of Novices scooted further away on their bench, as if he was dangerous.
He couldn’t really blame them. Evan didn’t know how he would act if it was someone else demons kept targeting. Would I want that pe
rson to leave Veneseron, just so I could feel safe?
“What was it like? Your life before Veneseron, I mean?” he asked Emi. Evan realised he’d never asked. He didn’t want to pry or make her upset. But he knew the basics. She and her sister had been slaves on a realm named Sarume.
Emillia hesitated before answering. “I mean, it wasn’t a good life, but to be honest Lyella and I had been born and raised as slaves. I didn’t know any different. All we knew was to do as our owners commanded, or we’d be punished.”
“That sounds horrible,” said Evan. “I’m so sorry you had to live like that.”
Emillia shrugged, yet her eyes looked sad as she spoke. “Like I said, we didn’t know any different. It’ll sound strange to you guys, but one of the things I hated most was that I could only wear this itchy brown robe. Everyone else on Sarume wore the most beautiful clothes. I was so jealous. Plus, I had to go around with that horrible tattoo.”
“You’ve got a tattoo?” Jed gasped. “I’ve never seen it.”
“Not anymore.” Emi smiled faintly. “All slaves have one, branded on their cheeks when they’re young.”
Jed choked on his cereal. “Damn, that’s messed up.”
“It’s okay,” Emillia said. “Tarensen, the one who rescued Lyella and me, asked us if we would like them removed by magic once we got here. I’ve been at Veneseron two years now. Sometimes my old life doesn’t feel like it really happened to me. On Sarume slaves have no names, just numbers. Lyella named herself after the character in a children’s book she’d smuggled in once. She asked me to pick a name too. I chose Emillia, as it was the name of the character’s sister.”
“But isn’t Lyella a total bitch?” Jed asked. “No offense.”
Emillia sighed. “Yes, she’s always been that way. In our pen she was the top slave, as in she got to work inside the house, whereas most of us had to work outside. Lyella was the most popular, and she made herself the most useful to the Masters, spying on other lords and informing the head of the house. She stole food from the kitchens too, but gave it to me and others whenever she could. She stole medicine once when 202, a little girl, was dying. The medicine saved 202’s life. Lyella’s never exactly been polite though, even to me, and she didn’t help some of the other slaves who she didn’t get on with.”
“How did you escape?” Evan asked. He was struggling with his anger at the people who’d allow such awful things to happen, as well as feeling sorry for Emi.
“Tarensen came to the auctions one day. Lyella and I weren’t for sale, but we were there with our owner. Tarensen tried to buy us, but our Master refused to sell Lyella, no matter the price. He sold me though, and beat Lyella when she tried to talk him out of it. As soon as he hit Lyella, Tarensen used sorcery against him and all the slavers. Tarensen freed the other slaves at the auction and took us two. I was hysterical at first, thinking everyone else had been freed except Lyella and me, but Tarensen instead took us here, and we couldn’t have had a happier ending.”
“So what happened?” Evan asked. “Tarensen freed all the slaves?”
“Of course not; only one auction house,” Emi said with a bitter laugh. “I’m still not sure if Tarensen killed the slavers or knocked them out. After we’d been at Veneseron for a while Lyella begged Tarensen to go back and free the slaves on Sarume. She wanted to go with him and kill the slavers. Tarensen told her he couldn’t or Veneseron would go to war with Sarume, who have their own magic-users and a powerful army. He’d almost caused a war when Sarume’s government discovered
someone had freed an auction house of slaves. Sarume blamed Veneseron and demanded vengeance, but Vanderain convinced Sarume’s government that whoever attacked their auction house wasn’t from Veneseron. I don’t know how. Tarensen did say that Realmers are often sent on missions to Sarume and other realms where slavery exists, and they secretly free as many slaves as they can. It’s terrible, but there aren’t enough Realmers to go to war with every corrupt world, as well as dealing with all the demons and monster invasions. But they still do what they can.”
Evan nodded. “I’m so happy you were freed, Emi, and that I got to know you. I hope one day there’s enough of us to stop slavery in any world it still takes place in.”
“Me too,” she said, her eyes shining passionately. “I have to believe there will be.”
After lunch, Evan had air element training, where they faced Blinkbats, named because they flew so fast, if you blinked you'd miss them.
“Don’t destroy the Blinkbats,” Master Phallorn ordered. “They’re animals just like you and me. Merely use your air element to direct them back into their cages.
Master Phallorn unleashed a swarm of them on the class and they had to use the air element incredibly fast to push the Blinkbats into the giant cage at the end of the chamber.
Most of the Apprentices succeeded, but a few of them weren't fast enough. Xavier was complaining the Blinkbats had spat in his hair and it had taken him hours to get it perfect, whilst Emillia ran around with the bats tangled in her hair. More Blinkbats looked to be using Jimmy Revlin as their new nest.
In weaponry, they battled Papermites, creatures that looked like tiny winged humans, but made out of paper. Evan successfully sheared his Papermite in half, but Jed wasn't so lucky. "Ah, paper cut, paper cut," he yelled.
“The worst kind of cut there is.” Xavier shook his head solemnly.
At the end of this lesson Arnvar produced a set of Venator armour and addressed them all.
“Now that you’re closer to going on missions, it’s time to show you more about our armour. The helms are retractable. As Venator helms cover your entire face, to stop it being burned away by demon spit for example, our helms are like red masks. The glass here is unbreakable,” Arnvar said, pointing to the eye holes covered by amber-coloured glass, “and made so your vision doesn’t change when wearing your helm. To activate the helm, press the tiny button on the back of the armour’s neck. Then press the button again when you want the helm to vanish.”
After their training was finished, Evan was so tired that he fell asleep in a rec room in front of the TV.
He awoke in the morning with Jed and Xavier snoring either side of him, as a commercial describing specialized deodorant for orcs blared across the plasma screen.
Several Venators were already up and about, but didn't take much notice of him. Evan supposed it wasn’t that uncommon for Venators to fall asleep in the rec rooms after a hard day’s training.
The majority of the room were crowded around an Arch-Realmer that could only be Byron Binoshe.
“C'mon lads, I just got a cache of space-scorpion stingers. They're excellent weapons, better than any enchanted dagger. Hey girls, I've got amulets here, crafted from the jewelled golems of Rhia-Tar, and imbued with spells to make you irresistible.”
Evan had heard about the Venator who could procure any item you wanted, for the right price. Byron had a trench coat over his Arch-Realmer clothes and sported a dark blue turban, as well as goggles that looked to be out of some steampunk realm.
“You're such a con-artist, Binoshe.” Sabine looked up from the scroll she'd been reading. “Did this knock-off junk fall off a starship like the last lot?”
Byron smiled like a Cheshire cat. “Course not; hundred percent legit, ladies and gentlemen. Don't listen to the Silcorn. That family have bred so much they've gone a little crazy.”
“Hey!” Blake and Seth Silcorn both looked up from their game of Ogre-Eye to yell at him.
Byron laughed them off. “C'mon then boys, I've got DVDs of the annual succubus mud-wrestling. Oh, and girls, I've got a couple of cases of nail polish in from our very own Earth.”
Chuckling, Evan nudged his snoring friends awake as Brooke entered the room.
“Budge up,” Brooke said, settling down next to him and switching the TV to the sports channel, where an Arengi match was taking place. “I’ve been getting into magical sports recently.”
Evan leaned forward to tr
y and make sense of the game so many Venators played. The arena changed for every Arengi match and the battlefield for this game was a ground full of dead machines. Evan spotted what looked like a mechanical dragon’s body, where two Arengi players battled on top of it, their steel blades crashing together. Other inactive mechanical monsters littered the ground, and small metal platforms floated high above the robotic graveyard. The camera zoomed in on one player who leaped off a platform, using the air spell named Driftdrop to land without breaking his legs. The camera flipped to show two more combatants where one player was sneaking up on the other, using Mutemove to scurry at his enemy soundlessly. The other player, however, performed her own Anatomy spell, Lightecule, which enabled her to jump inhumanly high, all the way up to one of the floating platforms.
As the game continued, Evan managed to pick out several spells that were familiar to him from training, whilst others he’d never seen before. Just as he was getting into the match, the screen abruptly changed channel.
“Hey, what the hell…” Brooke started, trailing off as the famous gnome news reporter Tizzlewig appeared.
“We interrupt this scheduled broadcast with breaking news from Earth realm.”
At his words, everyone stopped what they were doing, murmuring wearily to one another.
“This doesn’t sound good,” Brooke whispered.
The reporter took a deep breath before continuing. “I regret to announce that Dark-Realmers have attacked and slain two Venators.”
The rec room burst into an uproar.
“No way,” Jed yelled.
“Who were the Venators?” Elijah asked no one in particular, his face drained of all colour.
“Is this a joke?” one Mid-Realmer exclaimed.
“Tell me they caught those Rakarn,” Lok roared. “Tell me they killed those monsters.”
“But the Realmers of Veneseron were just two out of a dozen casualties,”
Tizzlewig continued solemnly. “The Dark-Venators targeted a college in Chicago, particularly a fraternity and a sorority which housed members of the supernatural community who wished to integrate themselves with normal students. Multiple shifters, vampires, fae and werewolves were slaughtered along with the two Venators stationed there.”
Moonlight War- Act I (The Realmers Book 2) Page 9
