A Crumble of Walls (The Kin of Kings Book 4)

by B. T. Narro

  He found her inside the Group One classroom. She was leaning over her lecturing podium, making notes on her scrolls. At the sound of his approaching footsteps, she looked up and seemed surprised to see him.

  Basen gave her a bashful smile.

  When she smiled in return, he thought he might’ve been wrong about her all this time. Perhaps she wouldn’t punish him for leaving without permission. They had awarded him a medal, after all.

  She was waiting for him to speak, her smile slowly leaving her face.

  “Um, sorry I left.”

  She drummed her fingers on the podium, showing him a confused expression.

  He gave her the same look right back.

  “Why are you apologizing?” she asked.

  “You’re right. Allow me to specify. I’m sorry if you took my leaving as an insult. I did not mean it that way.”

  “How else was I supposed to take it when you recruited one of my best mages—besides yourself—to go with you, and you didn’t ask me first?”

  It felt awkward to receive a compliment from a clearly annoyed instructor, especially in such a bitter tone.

  “We haven’t always agreed in the past,” he said. “That gave me reason to believe you wouldn’t approve of my plan.”

  “Imagine how different things would be if your plan hadn’t worked.”

  “Yes, I could’ve been killed.”

  “Do you realize that, really? Because it doesn’t seem as if you do. I’m concerned about you, Basen. I’m concerned about the safety of all my students, but you in particular. Your audacity…has kept me awake nights. I’m glad you went on this trip. You accomplished a lot, and, in doing so, proved what kind of young mage you are.”

  Her tone made it clear that wasn’t a compliment.

  “I spoke to Mage Trela,” Penny continued. “She agrees with me that you’ve missed too much training to be part of Group One any longer. It isn’t just their skills that allow your former classmates to work together so well, it’s practice.”

  His heart dropped like a rock. “I believe I can make up for the time lost. I would be a valuable mage in any group, but more valuable in the top class where my skills will be of more use.”

  “Your skills will be of use wherever you decide to put them. You’ve made that clear. But we can’t have you without a group. Even the troops who came from Tenred, some of them so far below others in their skill levels they wouldn’t have been accepted into the Academy otherwise, have been put in groups. It’s the only way to train everyone. With that being said, Trela and I agree you should join the group where you’re best likely to mesh after having missed so much training. And that is Group Eight.”

  Basen bit his lip before replying. “I don’t suppose it matters whether I agree?”

  “Be happy, Basen. Jackrie is the instructor of Group Eight, which is the only reason you weren’t put in an even lower group. She vouched for you, and she was the only one to do so of the instructors we spoke to. No one else wants the liability you bring because instructors are responsible for their students’ lives.” Penny looked back down at her scrolls, picking up her quill once again. “Everyone will be safer with you in that group, including you. It’s the right decision.”

  *****

  Basen didn’t get a chance to dwell on his demotion. He had to hurry to the Group Eight training area so he wouldn’t be late for Jackrie’s battle lessons. He had a lot more to lose if he misbehaved further.

  Jackrie introduced him, though he already recognized most of his new classmates, and soon he was casting fireballs at training dummies with the rest of them.

  During the first break, he asked Jackrie how this group would be different than his last.

  “We aren’t likely to be the group that Terren sends to the wall unless every mage is to stand behind the parapets and cast at our enemies. We spend most of our time improving our skills rather than going through the different scenarios of attack.”

  Basen soon saw why this was necessary. The skill gap between him and the others set him apart from them instantly. They couldn’t cast for as long, nor were their fireballs large or strong enough to fell an enemy in a single cast. None of them had enough skill with sartious energy to block a fireball, either. Basen couldn’t claim that ability yet, and he might never be able to, but Effie and others in his group could.

  My old group, he reminded himself. The sooner he accepted his new status, the better.

  Gathering energy, forming fireballs, and aiming them wasn’t all that different from running a long distance. There was a proper form but no one style to fit everyone. It seemed that many in this group were still figuring out what suited them best.

  Basen felt as if he’d already found his own style and that his time was better spent strengthening his mental endurance and physical ability to hold massive amounts of energy. He also wondered whether he should be training as a swordsman with the warriors. Much of this war had involved the sword already. It seemed prudent.

  When Jackrie went to fetch a drink from the nearby water barrel, Basen took advantage of the opportunity to speak with her in private.

  “You seem keen on helping everyone individually,” he commented.

  “Penny doesn’t?”

  “Not in the way you do. She demands things of each of us, but she doesn’t always follow through with instruction.”

  “Well, that’s the benefit of being in Group One. You’re expected to have a better grasp on everything related to energy, so you’re given more freedom and responsibility.”

  “That’s what I was hoping to speak to you about.”

  “I figured,” she said. “Let me tell you what you need to hear.” She drank her water quickly, gazing at her students the same way a worried mother might at her children.

  “I don’t take attendance in my class,” Jackrie said. “But everyone always comes on time. They want to be here, but more importantly, they don’t have anywhere better to be. If they did, I wouldn’t force them to be here. Do you understand?”

  “I do. Thank you.”

  When dinner hours came, Basen looked for Effie while waiting in line for his food. He found Cleve sitting with Nebre, like before, and the other Group One warriors taking up the rest of table. Next he found Alabell, sitting with the same female Krepp he’d seen her with before. What an exhausting day. There was room on the bench across from Alabell. He wanted to be close even if it would amount to nothing. But she hadn’t been clear about whether they could remain friends, and he didn’t want to impose.

  The dining hall was enormous, making it difficult to locate a single person. Eventually he came to the conclusion that Effie wasn’t here yet and kept his eyes on the open doors instead. He had his food by the time she came in, and he stared at her until she noticed him. When she did, he gestured at the empty bench in front of him. She nodded.

  There were no empty tables with all the new people here, but there were corners and middles just big enough for late arrivers to sit in small groups. He ate as he waited for Effie to get her food, his eyes drawn to Alabell. He knew he shouldn’t look but couldn’t help it.

  Eventually Basen glanced over to find her staring back. She quickly looked down at her plate, and so did he.

  Effie came to sit with him. “Penny told me. Group Eight.” She moved her fork around her food. “Sorry to hear that.”

  “At least I’m in Jackrie’s class. I need to ask you something.” He and Effie had a tendency to get sidetracked and never return to their original conversation. It was mostly enjoyable, but he didn’t have time for it now. “I was speaking to Jackrie, and she’s given me the hint that if I don’t show up, she’ll understand so long as I’m making better use of my time elsewhere.”

  “You’d have a better chance of strolling into Kyrro’s castle than back into Penny’s class.”

  “I figured, but I heard some of the Group Eight mages talking about a class with Neeko. Is he teaching people to use pyforial energy?”

  �
�Why didn’t you ask them?”

  He tried to look charming as he gave her a wry smile. “Because I wanted to ask you.”

  “You liar. You’re trying to avoid getting to know the students who might resent you for leaving them.”

  He nodded. “Yes, exactly that.”

  She chuckled. “Neeko is teaching…well, trying to teach. It was the reason Terren tried to recruit him earlier.”

  “I didn’t know anyone could say no to Terren.”

  “Remember, Neeko’s the same man who said no to you.”

  “Why is that so surprising?”

  “Because of that speech you gave to him and Shara about the Academy! I didn’t know you had such skill with words. Then you showed it wasn’t just luck when you gave another speech at Redfield Stadium. The only other person I’ve seen speak like that without preparation, besides Terren, was…Alex.”

  They paused a moment. Basen missed the friendly warrior, but Effie must feel it a thousand times worse. He didn’t know much about grief, but it seemed best to give her however much time she needed to compose herself before he continued.

  Eventually she looked up and asked him, “What were you going to say?”

  “I plan to attend Neeko’s class tomorrow. I think it’ll be a better use of my time.”

  “Not from what Neeko told me. No one has made any progress, and he’s doubting himself as an instructor.”

  “Perhaps he’s not teaching the right people. Is it Terren who decides who goes?”

  “It’s open to everyone, but there hasn’t been an announcement about it because Terren only wants those who’re really interested to take time away from their regular training.” She pointed her fork at Basen. “I thought you didn’t care about pyforial energy.”

  “You’re to blame for that! You undersold its worth. Now that I know what Neeko can do with it, I’m interested.”

  “Well, good luck. It took him nearly his whole life to get as proficient as he is.”

  “Where’s his class?”

  “The only place large enough. Redfield Stadium.”

  Basen smiled. Finally, he was excited to be back.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Basen hadn’t been completely honest with Effie. He still didn’t know exactly what Neeko could do with pyforial energy besides move things and himself. But the thought of being able to lift himself into the air was enough to make Basen’s imagination go wild with the possibilities. No enemy would be able to slay him except from far range.

  From what Annah said, it didn’t appear as if Neeko could fly around like a bird during battle, as it drained his stamina too quickly, but Basen had incredible endurance. Perhaps he could do something with the energy Neeko couldn’t.

  God’s mercy, when did I get overconfident? It’s the title. Basen the Cunning.

  His ability to deliver an important speech had come as a complete surprise, but then again, he’d always been a talker among his haughty friends in Tenred. Who knew that would ever become a useful skill?

  He arrived early at Redfield Stadium, but Neeko wasn’t there yet. The stadium looked a bit underwhelming. A pile of rocks was pushed up against a wall. An eclectic group of men and women of all ages stood in the arena, some with swords, others with wands. Most were older, and Basen didn’t recognize them as members of the Academy staff. One was much younger than the rest: the boy Basen had seen pretending to be a Redfield Champion.

  As Basen approached, the boy stopped what he was doing and stood perfectly still as if stunned.

  Basen extended his hand. “Hello, I’m—”

  “I know who you are! Everyone knows you. I’m Micklin. It’s an honor to meet you, Basen the Cunning.”

  All right, that title definitely doesn’t fit. He let out an uncomfortable chuckle. “Just call me Basen. Have you been to this class before?”

  “Yes, yesterday. I heard from Effie that pyforial mages have the potential to be the strongest type of mage.”

  She said that? “So you know Effie?”

  “Yes, I’m staying with her, Cleve, Reela, and Steffen. I didn’t know they were some of the strongest here at the Academy, like you! It’s an honor to sleep in their home, as it is to meet you.” He bowed…actually bowed.

  “Stop that before someone sees you.” Basen gestured for the boy to rise.

  “Sorry. I still don’t know the customs of the Academy.”

  “No one bows.” Basen softened his words with a smile. “How did you end up staying with them?”

  “I met Cleve and Reela in the capital. They recruited me.” The boy stood tall and proud. But Basen couldn’t imagine it was their idea to bring this child back with them.

  “Effie and Reela share their room so I have one to myself,” Micklin continued. “All of them are very nice, except Steffen can be strange, but don’t tell him that. I like him most of all. He’s a chemist, a swordsman, and an archer. Steffen the Beastslayer. He has a title, like you.”

  Effie and Reela share a room, not Cleve and Reela. Had the two of them separated for good? If so, it was disappointing news. Basen had seen their devotion to each other. The ground seemed to shift under his feet at the thought of Cleve and Reela being apart.

  “Yes, Steffen is a marvel. Maybe one day you’ll have a title too. Micklin, the Greatest Pyforial Mage…in the World!”

  The boy laughed. “That’s a long title, but I’d still use it proudly so long as it was true.”

  Neeko and Shara arrived together a moment later. Under the morning sun, Neeko’s hair was barely more blond than brown. He was of average height, with a youthful face but the physique of someone older. There were two wooden short swords in sheaths on his belt, which Basen hadn’t remembered seeing when Neeko had frightened away the three Krepps. Basen was looking forward to finally finding out exactly what Neeko did to scare them.

  Shara’s thick curls were just as dark and long as Basen had remembered from their meeting in the forest. She seemed happy to be here as she smiled at Neeko, clearly proud of him. She took her place in the midst of the crowd as if she, too, would be learning how to manipulate pyforial energy. Or perhaps she already had a smattering of it and was here to improve her skill. Basen let his excitement turn a smile as he met Neeko’s gaze.

  “I see there are some new faces,” Neeko announced when the crowd hushed. “Basen the Cunning, have you come here to learn pyforial energy?”

  Everyone turned to him, sending blood to his cheeks.

  “Please, the title isn’t necessary. And yes I have.”

  “I see. Well, for those like Basen who are new here, let me give you a warning. I’m new at teaching others about pyforial energy, and from what I know about bastial and sartious energy, it’s a more difficult concept to grasp. I see that many people didn’t return to continue their lessons. Part of that might be my fault, but most of it has to do with the difficulty of manipulating the energy.”

  An older man raised his hand.

  Neeko pointed. “Yes?”

  “Some of us are only here to see a demonstration. We’ve heard about what you can do, and we just want to witness it.”

  “Oh.” Neeko seemed surprised, then smiled as if happy to entertain them. “How many came here for the same reason?”

  About a third of the sixty people raised a hand.

  “I can’t speak for everyone,” the older man said, “but I don’t think I have the mind, and I definitely don’t have the time to train every day. I’m a stone mason, and I know some of the others here, like me, are more valuable for what we can do with our hands.”

  A few of the people around him chuckled.

  “All right,” Neeko said. “A quick demonstration. Basen, you can use both wand and sword, correct?”

  “Correct.”

  “Then come over here. Everyone else, move back.”

  “I didn’t bring a sword,” Basen said as he walked to the front. He could tell by the serious expression on Neeko’s face that this would be some sort of duel. He wa
s glad Neeko had chosen him, as he trusted his own ability better than anyone else here and wanted to see just how difficult it would be to face a pyforial mage.

  As Basen expected, Neeko drew one of his own blunt practice swords. But he pushed out his palm to stop Basen from approaching.

  “I can give it to you from here.” Neeko extended his arm while holding the handle of his blade, then let go. The sword floated in the air.

  The audience responded with gasps and ooohs. Neeko lifted his arm again, then bent his thumb and fingers together to make a claw. His brow furrowed in concentration as the weapon floated over to Basen.

  Many clapped and exclaimed in wonder. Neeko’s mouth quirked with a hint of a smile, though he remained focused on Basen.

  “Attack with whatever technique you think will work,” Neeko said. “Basen the Cunning.”

  Basen didn’t want to embarrass this mage, but he needed to find out whether Neeko could defeat him as easily as he made it seem. If Basen couldn’t reach him with the blade, he would shoot Neeko with a fireball. A small one, not with enough force to injure him.

  He knew what Neeko was planning when he didn’t draw his other sword. He’s going to disarm me. Let him try.

  Basen gripped the short sword with both hands. “Are you ready, Neeko?”

  “Yes.”

  From what Basen knew about pyforial energy, which admittedly wasn’t much, Neeko had to aim it. Obviously, a moving target was more difficult to hit. So Basen charged, making sure to swing his elbows and move the weapon as much as possible. Neeko lifted his hand in the same way a psychic might before a spell. Basen switched the sword to the other side of his body, gripping so hard his knuckles turned white.

  He saw it just before it hit him. The energy looked like a blanket of air. It swept in from Basen’s side as fast as a sprinting man, slamming into his legs.

  Basen put his hand down to keep from rolling when he fell, then he was back on his feet and running again in a heartbeat.