Gift of Gold (The Year of Churning Bloods)

by Leone, Hudson

  Jacob Ofpacis will be required to complete one test involving his anti-magical abilities that the Caterwaul Lorenzo finds to be within appropriate limits.

  Should one half hour go by without this test achieved, Jacob Ofpacis will be required to state everything he witnessed during the course of his examinations. From there, the Caterwaul will decide if it is still appropriate to promote him.

  Should Jacob Ofpacis be unwilling to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, the sovereignty of his entire life, including thoughts, servitude, and labour will belong to Caterwaul Lorenzo for as long as the pact goes unfulfilled.

  Should Jacob Ofpacis complete the test according to the standard required, He shall be promoted into the first tier of the Grimlars ( Also known as the Pronounced trainees) without hesitation. Along with this, The Caterwaul agrees to provide Jacob his own sword, shield, armour, and textbooks to assist in the future development of Jacob’s studies.

  Should Caterwaul Lorenzo be unwilling to donate these gifts, as well as promote Jacob (should he pass this test) Jacob will be entitled sovereignty over the Caterwaul for as long as the pact goes unfulfilled.

  Here ends the agreement.”

  “I can tell from your eyes that you understand the power of this little stamp,” The Caterwaul said, now producing a golden pin from his pocket. Before what I could ask what he was doing, he pricked his pinkie finger and let a single drop of blood fall onto one of the circles the taborthodox stamp made. Handing me another pin, the Caterwaul watched as I hesitantly brought the sharp end to my skin. Dabbing my bleeding finger onto the page, I flinched as the taborthodox stamp suddenly began to smoke profusely. The Caterwaul nodded to a nearby elder who presented me a plate of silver so fine it almost made my heart melt.

  The Caterwaul had to click his fingers thrice to redirect my attention from the stunning, otherworldly material. “Your test Jacob Ofpacis, is to bore a hole through this platter with nothing but distortion anti-magic.” Professor Wenchenberg, who was quietly observing from afar, spluttered unexpectedly.

  “To bore a hole through an object takes years of practice and perseverance in distortion anti-magic! What makes you think Jacob will be able do this after just coming out of examinations?” Wenchenberg nearly started shouting in outrage, however seemed to regain his composure fairly quickly.

  “Again professor: Seeing as Jacob developed such a strong fever, I can claim that he is more than capable of doing things this advanced.” The Caterwaul cracked open a sinister smile. “I ask for a hole of any size through that plate for any length of time. If I feel that is reasonable, then so be it, for it is already bound in blood.” Professor Wenchenberg popped his mouth open to protest but immediately clamped it shut as he glanced in my direction.

  “Will you let me at least talk to him first?” the Professor asked begrudgingly.

  Caterwaul Lorenzo threw his hands up into the air and cackled hoarsely. “My dear naive Professor... A simple talk will do nothing to prepare the boy any further. However, because I am curious, I will give you a single minute to speak with the boy.” The Caterwaul fluttered his hand towards me and turned on the spot. “Honestly, the stupidity of lesser men can be quite overwhelming sometimes,” he added under his breath before striding away ten paces. The elders around him did likewise.

  Professor Wenchenberg quickly placed himself by the bed, and leaned towards my ear, talking at a speed that should have not been physically possible. “Jacob you listen to me. The only thing I want you to think about during this test is your friend Preston. You imagine that Preston is on the other side of that plate, and that you’re freeing him by making a hole in that platter. Do you understand?” I shook my head quickly.

  “What about technique? What do I need to do?”

  The Professor leaned back and sighed slightly. “I’m sorry Jacob, but the Caterwaul is right. There’s really nothing I can teach you in this length of time. Just focus in on what’s important and you won’t need any technique.”

  “But what’s important?” I asked desperately.

  “You already know that Jacob,” the professor insisted. “You don’t need me to tell you again, do you?”

  I blinked and quickly looked away. “Preston,” I whispered meekly.

  “Preston,” the professor agreed, nodding his head.

  “I don’t know how he stays so brave,” I admitted quietly. “Courage is a lot harder when you’re smaller.”

  “Is that right?” the professor asked, somewhat taken aback by this statement.

  “Yeah,” I said, looking awkwardly down at my hands.. “But... It it makes me feel better knowing that I can help him. I think we all need help sometimes.”

  A curious look spread across the professor’s face. His jaw sagged, making him look slightly sad, but his eyes were warm with hope. More than anything, I could tell that he was proud.

  “Time’s up!” Caterwaul Lorenzo gasped as if he had been holding his breath the entire discussion. “Give him the platter,” he demanded, striding back to the space in front of my bed. A nearby elder carelessly tossed me the beautiful hunk of metal. I fumbled it with it briefly, and was startled by how predominant my fingerprints appeared on the surface, tarnishing the otherwise perfect material. “Begin now,” the Caterwaul insisted sternly.

  I took a deep breath of air and flinched as the scorching heat of my anti-magic gradually distorted the center of the plate away from me. Within seconds, a thumb sized portion of the plate had stretched from its center. My trembling hands rattled. It felt like for every centimeter the silver distorted I needed double the effort. I furiously tried to hold the dish in place, however despite my best efforts, it wobbled and shook uncontrollably. I couldn’t understand how I was supposed to put a hole through something so impossibly tough. Every time I tried to tear the material, it always put up more resistance.

  I imagined Preston by my side, helping me hold the trembling plate in place. “He would know what to do,” I thought dejectedly. “He probably would have read about it in one of his schoolbooks. If Preston were here, he would just whisper the answer my ear. He was probably busy changing his bandages, wondering why I was taking so long to recover. The tip of my scalp felt like it was being slowly separated into two halfs.

  “Move the extended section out of the way,” Umber coached softly

  “Thank you Umber. That made perfect sense,” I replied despite my exhaustion.

  Umber rolled his eyes as if he couldn't bear to deal with me much longer. “There are more directions than those which meet the eye. Find them,” he ordered, moving out of view. I shook my head lamely but brought the image of Preston to my mind and continued regardless.

  It was a lucky thing I had no food in my stomach, or I probably wouldn’t have been able to keep it down. Painful minutes slipped by and the memories I was using to distract myself were growing slim. Suddenly, it was almost as if I had slipped. The extended portion seemed to fold in on itself. Before I had time to realize what was happening, the thumb sized hollow vanished instantaneously, leaving me to stare at a coin sized hole which opened up towards the dumbfounded face of Caterwaul Lorenzo. I heard a collective gasp from the elders nearby.

  A startled silence passed, until eventually my weariness overcame me. I released the grip of my anti-magic and quietly fixed my gaze on the plate as it resumed its original shape. My grip on the platter faltered. It clattered to the stone floor and flung yellow bits of lamplight everywhere around the tunnel. I threw myself to one side and began to dry heave. Nothing came out except for a nasty smell which brought tears to my eyes.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Caterwaul Lorenzo mumbled as if his tongue had frozen on the spot. He slowly forced both hands through his spotted oily scalp and reevaluated me as if I were an animal who just got very sick. “Do you have an explanation for this professor?” the Caterwaul asked with a trace of desperation in his voice. The professor shook his head solemnly.

  “I don’t know any more than y
ou my Caterwaul,” Wenchenberg admitted, plucking at his eyebrows. If I had to issue a statement, I would simply say that Jacob is talented boy who would be an excellent addition for the ranks of the Grimlars.

  The Caterwaul stepped away from the bed and seemed to shrink slightly as he considered all that had just happened. Moving very quickly, he stomped up to me and jammed one of his bony fingers onto my nose.

  “I very well hope that Professor Wenchenberg is right about your capabilities boy,” he whistled through his clenched teeth. “Because if he’s wrong, I will not hesitate to make your future days the grandest nightmare you have ever experienced.” The Caterwaul’s left eyelid twitched slightly. “You have until tonight to be out of this medical center and you have three days from now to move into the school and begin your training as a tier one Pronounced trainee.”

  My heart leapt out of my chest as the news reached my ears. Jacob Ofpacis! A tier one trainee!

  Giving one last ferocious growl like a dying flame, Caterwaul Lorenzo pulled his cloak over his body as if to shield himself from the little light that was there. He walked away briskly and as he did so, the other elders followed in three perfectly straight lines.

  Professor Wenchenberg propped himself against the nearest bed frame while running his thin fingers through his grey speckled hair. “We... are in a lot of trouble,” He said as he looked at me sadly.

  “Sir,” I began weakly. There was so much to talk about. Where to begin? What things to ask? What comments to make?

  “I imagine you’d like to talk about the vial you found in your pocket.” Professor Wenchenberg noted.

  I nodded quickly, now rendered completely speechless.

  “Hopefully by now you know that I gave it to you. Do you know what it was?” Wenchenberg asked, lacing his fingers over his left knee.

  I took a deep intake of breath and stared directly at him. “You gave me the soul of a dragon,” I replied, intently looking into his eyes for any indication that I was wrong.

  The old professor gave a loud shaky sniff before erupting into a mad coughing fit that lasted a few seconds. “Correct,” he said and I nearly died on the spot.

  It took me a few moments for me to regain my breathing and when I did, the breaths I took were much too quick. I felt terribly lightheaded and for a second thought I must be dreaming. “No no that can’t be right,” I wanted to say. “This can’t be real. This was all just pretend in my head until now.”

  “May I continue?” the professor asked softly. I must have absentmindedly nodded because he kept on talking.

  “To an extent, you drank everything that made a dragon. His magic, his memories and his life.”

  Suddenly finding my voice again, I quickly cut the professor off. “Why would you give something that powerful to me!? Weren’t you scared I was going to hurt myself? Why didn’t you tell me about this before? Where on earth did you get--”

  “Calm Jacob... Calm,” The professor interjected before bringing a finger to his cracked lips. “I’ll try my best to answer all of your questions eventually but from now on, you should let me do the talking. Understand?”

  I nodded, clamped my mouth shut and tried to keep it that way.

  The professor carefully sat himself at the foot of my bed which sighed comfortably under his weight. “You wonder why I gave you this potion when I could have easily sold it or drunk it myself. The professor paused to collect his thoughts while he stroked his precisely cut whiskers. “I’ve been an elder of the concentration camp for ten years, and for all ten of those years I felt that all of these deaths are unjustified. It may seem silly of me to say this, but I want to stop the Grimlars.”

  Although both of my arms were bandaged, I could feel gooseflesh prickle my skin. My mouth caved into a toothless smile as I looked up at the professor with new eyes. “He understands,” I realized suddenly. “He knows this is all wrong. I’m not alone.”

  “Sadly, putting the Grimlars away is not a one man job,” the professor conceded. “I decided I needed an accomplice who the Grimlars wouldn’t ever suspect of treason. Someone unlike me,” he admitted humbly. “For my accomplice I wanted someone selfless and persistent. Five years ago, I chose you to help me Jacob.”

  I shook my head and held up a hand up in protest. “Of all the people in the concentration camp, I’m probably the least useful. I couldn’t even use anti-magic until a few days ago. Why in the world would you pick me?”

  Professor Wenchenberg cocked his head to one side. “I chose you because you’re very clever, very sincere, and because you never ever give up. Strength can be learned easily but it’s a lot harder to learn compassion and determination.” The professor paused to clear his throat before straightening up and looking fondly off into the distance. When I first met you, I saw these things in you, and I decided I would teach you how to read. Do you remember that day Jacob?

  I nodded slowly and half smiled. Five years ago felt like a lifetime away yet nothing about the professor nor his office had changed during this time.

  “By teaching you to read I planted the seed for your survival.” The professor said, moving his hands as if he had rehearsed this many times. “Next, I had get you to pass the King’s exams. To do that, I slipped you the dragon soul just as you were leaving my office.”

  “Why couldn’t you have told me this before? Why keep it a secret?” I hissed, looking left and right to make sure no people were coming.

  “Had any of the other Grimlars caught on to what was going on, they would have examined your memory, just like Gregor. I kept this from you to keep you safe. I wanted to teach you how to survive but I couldn’t have you so involved that I would attract unwanted attention.”

  “Okay fine,” I replied impatiently. “But why on earth did you think I was going to survive drinking the dragon soul!?” I whispered furiously. “Is my life honestly that expendable?” The professor’s face suddenly darkened as he lowered his head. He looked more like an old man than I ever remembered seeing him.

  “Your safety was never in question Jacob. I took certain precautions to make sure that you would always survive the drink.”

  “Such as?” I asked, both curious and suspicious.

  “Preston,” The professor answered quickly. “When you first told me about your friend, I was genuinely curious. Blood anti-magic is the hardest to find out of the five variations, and some argue that it’s the most dangerous.”

  “Why?” I asked, now taken aback.

  “It’s dangerous because it’s so versatile. It can heal, it can hurt and sometimes it can mindlessly destroy. The reason why the Grimlars were made in the first place was because a long time ago, a group of blood mages from the Dezbrit desert were attacking the non magic settlements.”

  “But why do Grimlars hunt all mages if only the blood mages were a threat?” I asked, trying to sit up even further.

  The professor smiled warmly. “You ask good questions,” he told me. “I don’t know the specifics, however I believe that there were four main groups at the time: The blood mages, the woodland mages the mountain mages, and the normal folk. The woodland mages teamed up with the blood mages after being promised power and the normal folk paired up with the mountain mages, promising them riches.”

  “Shouldn’t the blood mages have won though?” I asked tentatively. “After all, they had two groups of mages to fight with.” The professor shook his head.

  “I believe the mountain mages won because they discovered anti-magic. Somehow, they found a different way to channel their sorcery so as a result, they began to call themselves as warlocks. The most elite of these warlocks were hired to by the normal men to fight these mages.

  “Grimlars,” I growled in conclusion.

  “Yes,” Professor Wenchenberg said, now looking at the ceiling. “But we’ve gotten off track. You wanted to know how I knew you’d survive and I said Preston.”

  “What does Preston have to do with it though?” I wondered, rubbing the sleep from both of my
eyes.

  “Preston healed your sickness didn’t he?” The professor asked in response. “I knew his touch would help you, so I gently nudged him in the right direction. I had him find you.”

  “You can do that?” I exclaimed in awe. The professor bashfully brushed this question off with a flick of his wrist.

  “Well I’m not completely inept you know.” he said under his breath. “Anyway, now that I’ve explained all of that, I bet you’d like to know where I found this dragon soul?”

  I nodded nervously and rubbed my head, trying hard to remember everything that I was being told.

  “Dragons are among the most magical beings in the world. When they die, their energy doesn’t disperse as easily as ours do, because of their high concentration of magic. Because of this, we can take a dead dragon, and squeeze its energy into a drinkable liquid. There’s only one condition: The dragon has to be fully willing.

  “So... you knew this dragon?” I asked skeptically