Storm of Prophecy, Book I: Dark Awakening

by Michael Von Werner

  One man shouted out, asking another on the wall for a replacement. Vincent clashed swords with him several more times before the new man finally stepped in just in time to meet Vincent’s next swing. Vincent ignored the switch, too lost in his own world to care. It didn’t matter to him that one man had become bored; he just kept swinging anyway. After two other men did the same, Vincent felt his own strength start to wane. When he finally stopped, he noticed that some of the new men were slightly winded, and realized that the others hadn’t actually switched off from boredom. Vincent thanked all the participants and slid his sword back into it’s scabbard while he tried to catch his breath.

  A breeze swept across the battlements, cooling his sweat and his damp shirt. While Vincent recovered, he went to stand near a gap in the crenulations of the wall’s edge, looking out at the campus below, and then he looked further to see the city of Gadrale beyond. As he continued panting from the exertion, he thought back to the things Arrendis had said to him on the roof of the keep and thought about his own place in all of it. When he was done, he went and asked the same officer which of his men was most in need of training, and offered to help give him extra practice.

  The soldier brought to him, Patrick, was a little shorter than he and appeared young, perhaps not even eighteen. According to Lieutenant Johnson, he was the worst in the unit. Vincent practiced with him by having him press a constant attack to Vincent while Vincent blocked. At each turn, Vincent gave him pointers on how to swing and complimented him each time he improved in order to encourage him. Vincent was exhausted, and so for his own gain, he wanted merely to practice thinking of and using reactions. The mutual benefit occurred because he was also able to help any weaker soldiers he did this with to grow stronger. At the moment they didn’t have any sticks to use for practicing more sophisticated dueling in a safe way, and so Vincent congratulated the young man once again before parting and heading back to the keep.

  He glanced up once at the position of the sun before he went down the steps and noticed that it was late in the afternoon, almost evening. There were a few more hours left before Karl would be getting out of his last class. In a way, Vincent felt as though he had just gotten out of one of his own. It pained him that he had to think that he was sacrificing research time on training, yet he also felt relief since he hadn’t been able to train for a few days. Tomorrow would be a rest day for him, and he and the others could begin looking for that word in the texts. Regrettably, his friends would be able to spare less time for it than he. Though he would have to do most of it himself, any help was better than none.

  Vincent visited a well on the first floor of the keep and drank his fill. Afterward, he went to the dining hall and stood in line while he waited for it to settle in his stomach. He reasoned that either Rick or Karl would have eaten their supper already and were now in their last class of the day. Dinner was steak with a potato and a small piece of bread on the side; it was satisfying.

  When Vincent finished eating, he went back to his room and took off his sword’s baldric so he could sit down more comfortably on his bed once again. Time management was constantly on his mind, and there was still some left before Rick and Karl were free to talk to him. To pass the time, he fished out a whetstone from the open chest at the foot of his bed, drew his sword, laid the blade flat on top of his knees, and began sharpening it. It’s edges had sustained only minor damage and dulling despite the punishment he had put it through, but it was important to maintain discipline. There were times when he used his magic to sharpen or repair it; today that wasn’t necessary.

  To wait for Karl to get out of his last class, Vincent traveled to the second story below ground level and stood outside one of the many doors attached to the single hall that this floor comprised of. Karl’s last class took place in one of the external basement levels. Vincent was just starting to think he should have brought his whetstone with him when a door on the left side of the hall opened up, and students wearing green robes and dresses started pouring out. Strangely enough, each were carrying a rock in their hands of varying sizes, or else floating it along in front of or behind them. A few merely used their power to pull theirs along the ground to follow them as they walked. Vincent knew that geomancers were concerned with the knowledge and control of such earth materials, but he didn’t understand the purpose of their keeping a rock handy in this way.

  Karl came out last, dragging along with his power a wide flat rock bigger than his head. It was a bluish gray and made a scraping sound as it was pulled. He was talking with a stocky old Dwarf man with long white hair and a long white beard. Vincent recognized him as one of the masters on the council he had spoken in front of that morning. Though he didn’t know his name, he had already guessed by his green robes that he was the resident Master of Geomancy at Gadrale’s campus.

  The gruff deep voice was imparting some final lesson of the day to Karl. “…control, understanding, and awareness of the very rocks and dirt beneath your feet is perhaps the most crucial thing you can learn and be conscious of. Much more so than the construction of elementals or any of the dynamics involved with them.”

  Karl stared at the ground while his long blond strands hung around the sides of his face. He was still too engrossed in the discussion to notice that Vincent was standing further down from them. “But once the elementals are infused with a life of their own, they become extremely potent combatants as well as loyal servants,” he pointed out, “they hardly require any effort from their owner at all.”

  The old Dwarf shook his head. “Throw that nonsense out of the window and out of your mind. Even though elementals are useful, they are only pets and nothing more. A geomancer’s true strength comes from the rocks around him and the ground beneath him. You will never have a more powerful weapon than that. If you reach the level of skill where you can levitate and manipulate vast amounts of stone and earth, an army of a thousand elementals could not stop you. That is why the focus of this class is on levitation and control, and why it is so important for all geomancers to stress these aptitudes first and foremost.”

  “Fascinating,” Karl remarked, his own rock still skidding and tagging along from behind, “I always thought that…oh hi, Vincent.” He looked back toward his teacher. “Now, if that’s…” The full realization of Vincent’s unexpected presence came fully to him and he jerked his head back with a jostle of his hair. “Whoa! You’re looking pretty good. I didn’t think you would be out of the infirmary so soon. I was planning to come visit you again. How are you feeling?”

  “Our healers are quite talented,” Vincent replied, “I feel fine, thanks.”

  He turned to the Dwarf while gesturing with a hand toward Vincent. “Master, allow me to introduce my cousin, Vincent.” He turned to look back at Vincent, “Vincent, this is Master Gautrek, my instructor for this course.”

  The two shook hands while the master geomancer seemed to make the same recollection that Vincent had. “We’ve already seen each other once before: this morning when you were submitting your report. It’s nice to meet you again under different circumstances. I didn’t know you were Karl’s cousin.” Vincent gave a polite half-smile.

  “Oh I see,” Karl began with an incriminating tone that was meant more in jest, “so you’ll tell the masters what really happened, but you won’t tell your own cousin.”

  Vincent didn’t feel the slightest bit of guilt. “You’re going to be hearing it very soon. That’s part of why I came to talk to you.”

  On that note, Master Gautrek decided to part company discreetly. “Well gentlemen, since I’m old and weary, and I’ve already heard it, I think I shall be turning in for the evening.”

  Both Karl and Vincent bowed their heads in respect after Vincent stepped out of his way. “Goodnight, master,” Karl voiced. Vincent kept waiting to speak even though Gautrek was well up the stairs. Karl was less eager to wait. “You normally have guard duty during this hour. This has got to be the first time you’ve come to wait for me out
side of a class in years.”

  Vincent turned away from the stairwell to look back at him. “Master Clemens gave me the week off,” he explained, “I’ll tell you the rest later. Right now we should go find Rick.”

  “Why?”

  Chapter VII

  They proceeded through the halls and up the stairs until they exited the keep and stood within the courtyard just in front of the gatehouse. Karl’s rock followed him the whole way there as he kept trying to get Vincent to say more. Vincent kept refusing and promised that as soon as Rick was with them, he would. They chose to wait just inside the keep’s walls near the gatehouse because neither knew the exact location within the campus of Rick’s last class, only that it ended at about the same time as Karl’s.

  Rick passed under the raised front and rear portcullises, dripping with sweat, exhausted, and looking to be in as sorry a state as either of them had ever seen him in. As they all headed inside with him toward the well so he could drink, he explained that he had just gotten out of a flame intensity class with Master Magnus. They were forced to compress hotter and brighter flames into as small a space as they could and then keep going, building up heat while continuing to shrink the size. He said that he was sweaty not from the heat, which he was well shielded from, but from the incredible amount of effort.

  Vincent needed to talk with them alone and was unable to think of a better place than his own quarters. After they entered, he took his cloak off and threw it on top of the chest. He sat down near the head of the bed and merely pushed his scabbard out of the way instead of taking it off. Out of sympathy, he invited the exhausted Rick to take a seat near the foot of the bed. Rick accepted and didn’t bother to smooth or adjust his red robes before plopping down. Strands of his short red hair matted his forehead while he twitched his mustache. Karl preferred to stand, and his flat wide rock chose to stand with him.

  Before Karl could ask Vincent why he had brought them there, Rick asked Karl a another question first. “Why do you have that with you?”

  Karl tried to answer quickly to get it out of the way. “It’s an assignment from Master Gautrek to teach us to constantly be aware of our surroundings and what we have that we can use. It’s also builds strong focus and mental discipline.”

  Rick was still curious. “Why do you need to carry around a rock to teach you that?”

  Karl seemed annoyed and tried to answer as best he could in very little time. “So that we learn to never forget these things for an instant. Part of the assignment is that we never leave our rock anywhere. He says that if any of us leaves it somewhere without bringing it with them, and he finds out, he will fail us and we’ll have to take the class over again.” He turned to Vincent. “Now are you going to tell us what this is about or not?”

  While he still feared that they would reveal to the masters what he was doing, he decided to trust them. Vincent looked down and began to tell them everything. He started with his own personal investigation, then held his composure as he discussed the incident in the vault. Lastly, he told them what Stan and Craig had been able to offer. “…maybe they’re some kind of dark cult, we still don’t know.” Vincent’s voice was grave as he continued looking down. “Whoever they are, I think they’re also responsible for the missing people and the devoured remains of children.” He looked up as he finished.

  When Vincent lifted his head, he noticed that both looked uncomfortable. Rick’s eyes occasionally glanced to the side, but neither looked entirely unwilling to accept the possibility. Even though he hadn’t told them that his actions were forbidden, they seemed to know just by looking at him that he had pursued this even when instructed to do otherwise by a higher authority, taking actions on behalf of Gadrale that were not sanctioned. They knew that those officially commissioned to look into it had long since given up.

  Karl folded his arms and spoke first. “I take it that you have been doing all of this, alone, even against my better wishes or that of the masters?” Vincent nodded slightly. “The last time you and I had a talk about it, you even promised me that you wouldn’t go out there.” He slowly looked up at the wall above Vincent and took a deep sigh. Gradually, his eyes found his way back down to him.

  Vincent held his ground. “I couldn’t have very well declared openly my intention to seek out the killers. How far do you think I would have gotten if I did that? No matter what I said to appease you that day, I still believe this bears greater consideration than it has been given.” They continued to glare at each other. “And so should you,” Vincent added.

  Realization seemed to creep over Karl’s face along with disdain. “You just want to rescue Jessica Valens’ brother,” he accused. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You’re trying to get under her skirt.”

  “And what if I am in love with her?” Vincent shot back.

  Karl buried his face in his hands with a groan. “…oh gods.” He turned to Rick. “Can you believe this?”

  Rick smirked. “I think it’s cute.”

  Vincent felt his ears burning. “Look, Harold wasn’t the only one. How many more have to disappear before we realize that we’re all being threatened by this.” He sternly held Karl’s gaze. “I went because I wanted to try to rescue them before it’s too late.”

  “What you did still wasn’t safe,” Karl scolded, “you could have been killed, or turned up missing like the others. That was foolish.”

  “With what happened to me down in the vault, it doesn’t appear to be that safe over here either,” he countered.

  Karl closed his mouth and let out a small sigh through his nose. “I know you meant well,” he said patiently, “I’m just worried about you. What do you think would have happened if you had been attacked out there instead of here at the keep?” Vincent didn’t have a good answer. “My point exactly,” Karl finished.

  “I just had a thought,” Rick said. They both redirected their attention to him, seeming to have forgotten him in their quarrel. “What if there are others besides Jeanette who have betrayed us?”

  “I considered that,” Vincent replied, “but Stan and Craig’s story doesn’t support it. She was the only one they saw leaving with that strange man. And I have to admit that I don’t think they’re lying this time.”

  “Even so,” Rick pressed, “it might be possible that others left to join that…ceremony or whatever before he came to get her. We shouldn’t rule out the danger.”

  Karl began recriminating his rashness again. “See? You were careless. How do you know that Rick and I aren’t with them? You could have invited two potential cultists right into your room!”

  “I made no mistake about that,” Vincent maintained.

  “How so?”

  “Karl, I know you far too well for that. I know that you couldn’t be one of them because you’re my cousin, and even though we argue sometimes, I really think you’re far too busy keeping pet rocks and learning about strata to be dabbling in that sort of thing.” Rick chuckled.

  Karl looked enticed. “What about him?” He asked, pointing at Rick.

  Vincent looked over at Rick, who sat staring at the ground with a smile on his face. “He is one of the few people I know with absolute certainty to be on our side. If he was on theirs, why would he destroy one of his own?”

  Karl considered it a moment. “For show, there could have been other people around.”

  Rick shook his head as he looked up. “There weren’t,” he said, finally coming to his own defense, “and I raised the alarm, remember? You can ask anyone. No one else was there to do it for me. Some may have heard my compressed fire spark go off, but that was about it.”

  “Fair enough,” Karl relented, “but what do we do now?”

  Vincent answered, “follow the one lead we have, search for that word’s meaning, and hope that it leads us somewhere useful.” He shared a deliberate look with Karl. “And yes, it might even take us somewhere dangerous.” When he considered the next part he had to say, he felt a wave of fear go through
his gut over his own status within the keep; he still didn’t know if either would report him. “It must also be kept secret unless we want to face a hearing before the masters, after being charged with stepping outside our jurisdiction.” He looked back and forth between Karl and Rick. “Are you two going to help me, or was my bringing you here a mistake?”

  Karl folded his arms again, his tone condescending. “You’re my cousin, Vincent. You know that,” he said, thinking it a sufficient answer.

  Rick nodded while he looked off, seeming lost in thought again. Vincent didn’t think he had ever seen Rick tired. “We have to. The keep is at risk. Countless innocents are also.” Vincent was silent and when their gazes met, Rick felt the need to explain further. “We’re you’re friends. You didn’t honestly think we were just going to let them get away with what they did to you? Or with stealing from us for that matter.”

  “Thanks, Rick,” Vincent replied, feeling heartened by their outpour of support. “I have to warn you both that things might not go as planned. We might end up finding nothing at all. The word could mean ‘fruit basket’ for all I know. If something like that happens, we might have to search the wilderness again, starting where Stan and Craig claim to have seen them last. We may never find the people we seek.”

  They were all quiet for several moments.

  “At least we know one other thing about them,” Rick said, breaking the silence.

  “What’s that?” Vincent asked.

  “That they had no idea you were on to them or that you’ve been secretly investigating them this whole time. Their running into you at the vault was a coincidence. You just happened to be the one guarding it.”

  Vincent was perplexed by this perfect knowledge. “What makes you think that?”

  “Because the goose rarely comes to the hunter’s doorstep and bites him. That’s why they call it a wild goose chase, because you can’t find the geese. Geese don’t just come to you. If they knew you were on to them, or if you were close to discovering something, they would have attacked you out in the woods where they roost. Coming here just to deal with little old you, no offense, would be foolishness in the worst. Three were lost as it was just to get whatever it is they came for.”