Gift of Gold (The Year of Churning Bloods)

by Leone, Hudson

  I tried not to chuckle at the professor's apparent distress.

  “Nestor! That’s it. I’m forgetting Nestor!” the professor trumpeted after a moment in thought. “But aside from names, I suppose there are more pressing matters at hand.” he said gesturing to the sword sheathed to my back. “Tomorrow is the first day that you start your training, yes?” I nodded and slowly handed over my sword to the professor who began to examine it with great care. His fingers trembled slightly as they ran over the name of the sword, fumbling blindly at every crevice of every letter. “F’anger the beast,” he whispered before chuckling slightly. “My my Jacob that has to be one of the strangest sword names I’ve ever heard.”

  “It feels like everyone’s been telling me that,” I grumbled, feeling my face sag down into a heavy frown.

  “Strange doesn’t mean bad,” the professor responded lightly. “Strange means different and unusual. I happen to like your choice a lot.”

  “It was Umber that named it actually,” I stated, carefully taking the weapon back.

  “Was it now?” The professor seemed pleasantly surprised. “Speaking of Umber, how are you feeling now that you’re one of the Quenched?”

  I shrugged a bit. “I’m doing alright I suppose, but it’s weird having another thing moving through my head. I’m still not quite used to it.” The professor produced a notebook out of his pocket and began to take note.

  “Is that a good idea?” I asked, uncertainly gesturing to the black pocketbook in his hands.

  “It’s for scientific curiosity Jacob,” he said without looking up. “There hasn’t been a member of the Quenched for a couple of centuries now. It may do people a lot of good in the future to know what you’re going through now. As a safety measure, I’m also writing entirely in code.”

  Ignoring the sinking feeling in my stomach, I tried to shift the conversation elsewhere. “What am I going to do today?” I asked, tossing my dusting rag off to one side and taking a seat by the fire.

  “Today you shall rest, for tomorrow is when you begin your classes.” The professor said, folding away his pocketbook. He bit his lower lip tentatively and stared gravely out the window for a moment before continuing. “Do you know why I brought you in here today Jacob?”

  I braced my back and stiffened my neck, not expecting this question. I shook my head and stared at Professor Wenchenberg with apprehensive curiosity.

  “I brought you here to talk, because unfortunately for us, it seems like our old friend Caterwaul Lozenge is catching onto our plan.”

  “You haven’t actually told me your plan sir,” I pointed out quickly.

  Professor Wenchenberg considered this, looking out to the sky and at the small bit of rain bubbling down from the clouds. “True,” he admitted after a while.

  I slunk back in my seat, and nervously scratched at my head.

  “Curiosity is nothing to be ashamed of Jacob,” Professor Wenchenberg said, as if in direct response to my embarrassment. “It’s the foundation of innovation, and it’s been my fault for suppressing it for so long. Professor Wenchenberg paused to rummage in his coat pocket. He gave a small ‘aha!’ as he found and removed a large pamphlet. “Go ahead Jacob. You’ve earned it.”

  I nervously took the paper from his fingertips before excitedly opening it up and beginning to read.

  THE ULTIMATE KNIGHT

  A new age has emerged within the camp as for the first time in history, The Legion of the Grimlars are allowing one chosen trainee to leave the concentration camp, in an attempt to find and kill the malicious dragon Orthonus. A great number of trainees from all walks of life and all skill levels will try out and compete in a series of three events, in the hopes of becoming The Ultimate Knight.

  When the one powerful Grimlar trainee emerges victorious, He will be granted one year to find and kill Orthonus, who threatens our kingdom’s prosperity and well-being. There are no restrictions as to how this champion may kill the dragon should he find him, however it must be by the victor’s hand, and it must be within the year allocated. Should the mighty victor of this competition go so far as to slay Orthonus, the high council of Zaphris agrees to grant this warrior any three wishes which will be fulfilled by his majesty King Esterjay Thombarr II.

  “The reign of terror that Othornus holds has lasted for far too long!”

  “It is time that the lands see a new, able champion!”

  Only those granted a tier within the ranks of the Grimlars may compete in the competition. Restricted to those tier one, two and three.

  Entries must be submitted to Professor W. Wenchenberg by December the tenth.

  The Qualifying competition will take place on December the twenty-seventh. location taking place to be announced

  Semi-Finals will take place on December the twenty-ninth in the Etaporium

  Finals will take place on December the thirtieth in the Etaporium.

  The competition theme is magical creatures.

  “You want me to win this competition?” I asked, completely mortified. “No I can’t! This is plain stupid!” The Professor’s eyes slowly faded away as he tugged back the entry form.

  “Jacob, do you fully understand the reward?” Professor Wenchenberg asked, suddenly striking the paper with his fingers. It was the angriest I had ever seen him and for one horrifying moment, I couldn’t recognize the man in front of me. “Just one of these three wishes will let you disband the Grimlars for good!” he insisted, slamming both of his hands on his desk. “This has been our dream for as long as we’ve been in this camp Jacob! Do you really want to throw away this opportunity?”

  “This... This can’t possibly work!” I protested sharply. “The Grimlars won’t just stop because of a wish!”

  “A taborthodox stamp binds these entry forms,” Professor Wenchenberg stated, fervently flipping over the pamphlet for me to examine the seal. I could see that one of the circles was already filled. “This isn’t just any ordinary contract Jacob. This mark is bound in blood by the ruler of all of Zaphris; King Esterjay.”

  “The King of Zaphris?” I asked skeptically. “He’s willing to risk his sovereignty just to get rid of some dragon I’ve never heard of before?”

  The professor nodded as if he could understand my confusion. “Until these papers were given to me several years ago, I was under the assumption that Orthonus was dead. Those same several years ago, King Esterjay wanted to hold this competition, but could not convince Caterwaul Lorenzo due a lack of proof. Nobody knew if Orthonus was still alive meaning nobody knew if the competition could be held.

  “So we’re having this competition because we know that this Orthonus is alive?” I concluded uncertainty.

  “The king claims he has proof this time,” Professor Wenchenberg corrected. “I haven’t seen this proof for myself, but he’s apparently convinced the Caterwaul to hold this contest.”

  I scrunched my forehead, trying to make sense from all of this. “If the king really wants this dragon gone, why is he picking a single Grimlar trainee to do it, rather than gathering up an entire army? There’s over two hundred elder Grimlars in the camp, and he only asks for a single trainee? That’s ridiculous!” I added, throwing my head back into the soft armchair

  “That it is,” The professor agreed seriously. “At the moment I don’t know what he’s thinking. Perhaps he’s as mad as everyone claims he is. Perhaps he underestimates the strength of the dragon or perhaps he finds it sporting. For whatever reason, King Esterjay has decided to bind himself to these wishes, meaning he is obligated to fulfill them no matter the circumstances. These wishes are the best chance we have at destroying the Grimlars as we know them,”

  “And this is your plan?” I asked, feeling incredibly light headed.

  “This is a part of my plan,” the professor said, calmly dropping a small sewing pin in front of me. “In order for this to work I need your full cooperation. I won’t make you enter this competition but I need you to choose Jacob.”

  An un
comfortable couple of seconds passed where neither of us moved. The air around me suddenly seemed to grow hot and sticky. The skin around my arms itched as they started to prickle up in sweat. I stared at the professor with unfocused eyes, waiting for him to do something, anything.

  “Will you help me with this competition?” I asked, breaking the silence.

  “I will do everything in my power to help you Jacob.” The professor assured me with a small bow of his head. “It’s stated in the contract, that I’m strictly forbidden from helping competitors, however I have ways of bending the rules.” The professor grinned mischievously and I couldn’t help a quick smile of my own.

  “Can I have a minute to read over the fine print sir?”

  “Of course.” The professor responded, sitting back in his seat and politely diverting his attention elsewhere.

  “Henceforth,

  From activation of this contract, the Grimlar trainee will made to compete in the qualifying round. If he is selected to move on to the next round, he will do so, unless seriously injured, or otherwise incapable of performing to the best of his abilities. Failure to attend any round the trainee qualifies for results in instant disqualification.

  Any cheating within the competition also results in instant disqualification and various punishment from demotion to eternal servitude, to death, depending on the severity of the cheating, as defined by Caterwaul Lorenzo.

  Cheating within the competition is defined as:

  -Deliberate disclosing of information on the various tests,

  -Assistance in any way during the test.

  -Deliberate trainee collaboration within the tests, to assist other competitors.

  By signing this oath, the competitor acknowledges that the Grimlars are not responsible for any injury and or death that may occur within the competition

  In the result of a tie between two or more trainees, the quest will be split between them, including the wishes granted at the kill of the dragon Orthonus. The victor or victors of this competition shall be granted one year from the first of January, to the next first of January to kill the dragon Orthonus. This dragon must be slain, fallen, or otherwise killed by the hand of the victor using any means for the three wishes to take effect.

  Here ends the contract.”

  “Umber, what do you think?” I asked, unsure how to proceed. The spirit simply hung there in silence as he thought about this.

  “Three wishes,” he mused to himself quietly. “I could rule the world with three wishes.”

  “I wasn’t asking you what you’d wish for,” I responded in a huff. “I want to know if we can win this.”

  “We have a fair chance of winning the competition, but killing the dragon is another thing entirely,” Umber replied without any sort of outward emotion.

  I carefully picked up the pin and held it away from my body like it was tipped with poison. This seemed like too much work. Why did I want to do this in the first place? Why did I even bother? I paused and turned my head to one side. “I don’t have to do this if I don’t want to,” I realized suddenly. “I could stay here with Professor Wenchenberg forever, drinking tea, reading, and not worrying about what would happen outside.” The thought was so pleasant, I closed my eyes for a moment to appreciate it. A few seconds later I stopped, suddenly realizing that something was wrong.

  For the first time in my life, I became aware of the fact that I didn’t want to live here forever. I frowned and looked around the office, disturbed by how small it felt at that one moment. “This is the only place where I’m happy,” I thought to myself nervously. “Why don’t I want to stay here? What’s wrong with me?” I gripped the sides of the table and began to shake.

  “Jacob? Is everything alright?” Professor Wenchenberg asked, quickly kneeling by my side. The weakness in his voice scared me. The way he spoke reminded me of those beggars that used to linger outside the orphanage, looking for some kind of charity. “Jacob, this is really important. We can’t move forward unless you do something... Please.”

  “Move forward,” I whispered to myself. “I need to move forward.” As if being struck by lightning, I bolted upright and then quickly sat down. I was so overcome with understanding it was like I lost control of my limbs. I didn’t want to stay here because I knew I wouldn’t move forward. I’d be doing the same damn things, experiencing the same senses and learning nothing new. Why would I do that when I could actually change the world like I said I would?

  With one fell swoop, I pricked my little finger and held it above the contract, watching with full focus as my blood spattered against the paper. Just as the Taborthodox stamp began to smoke, the professor quickly yanked the papers away and hid them as if I might have torn them up.

  He gave me a watery smile before clasping his hands in his lap. “Thank you,” he said, now regaining his composure.” You’ll make a fantastic hero someday.”

  “Hero?” I wondered, tilting my head slightly. “What’s a hero?”

  Professor Wenchenberg pulled his head back and stared at me with mild curiosity. “You’ve never heard of that word before?” he asked in disbelief. “Out of all of the books you’ve read, you’ve never once come across that word?”

  “It sounds familiar,” I admitted, unknowingly tugging at my hair. “Maybe I heard it outside somewhere.”

  “Well... A hero is someone who faces a danger from a position of weakness.” Professor Wenchenberg began. “Someone who takes on this danger for the greater good.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck suddenly stood at attention. “I see,” I said after a long pause. “Thank you sir. I think I do want to be a hero.”

  Professor Wenchenberg nodded distractedly before retrieving a quill and some paper from his desk. “I’m giving you a list of resources I want you to look into for the competition. Have you read any of these books before?” the professor asked before handing the sheet over.

  I glanced at it briefly and shook my head.

  The Professor shrugged his bony shoulders slightly. “Fortunately I think you can find all of these books at the library? Why don’t you go there now?”

  “Why don’t I?” I repeated stupidly.

  The professor nodded sternly. “Yes, I think that’s an excellent idea actually. You go to the library now while I get these papers sorted. Good day Jacob. You’re dismissed.” he added, kindly nodding towards the door

  I slowly edged towards the exit, slightly unsettled by the urgency in Professor Wenchenberg’s gestures. “Goodbye sir,” I said, suddenly turning around.

  “Hmm?” he asked, too immersed to look up from his papers. “Oh yes. Goodbye Jacob. Tell Professor Palinto I said hi won’t you? Also if he asks, please tell him that I’ve returned my overdue books two days ago and no, I haven’t stolen them.

  I laughed, unable to help myself before walking out of the office as if nothing odd had happened. “Hero,” I said to myself with a proud smile. “He thinks I’m a hero.”

  ***

  My forehead prickled up in pain as I used my filthy right hand to wipe off the sweat from my brow. “Where was the library again?” I wondered, quickly bustling through the corridors of the school.

  Eventually, I stumbled through a set of grand double doors and into a room jammed with more books than I thought existed.

  Books in all different sizes and colours were held up to the ceiling by towering shelves nearly two stories tall. There were fat books which dominated every space they occupied, young books with their spines still uncracked and old books which crowned the room at the topmost shelves. There were so many colours and so many sizes that for a moment I thought I had walked into a room full of confetti.

  A loud cough rang out from somewhere behind me. I turned and felt my mouth fall open as I saw probably the tallest man in the world. He blinked, slowly adjusting his lopsided spectacles as he stooped over to stare me in the eye. The torso of the giant was disproportionately skinny to the rest of him. I decided then that he looked less like a h
uman and more like a thin tree.

  “You’ve stood here for fifteen minutes without touching a single book,” he remarked, holding a misshapen hand to the dozens of shelves behind me. “May I help you?”

  I shut my mouth, quickly scampered back two paces and held out the sheet of paper like he would have torn my hand off. The librarian gently pried it from my fingers, and sighed after reading it.

  “You’re one of those trainees thinking about entering that competition?” he asked, looking me over with pity.

  I nodded uncertainly.

  “Unfortunately, You’re not the first to come looking for these books. Nearly everything on beasts has been checked out.” He raised his hands apologetically. “You’re welcome to look around if you want, but don’t get your hopes up.”