Brant felt his aura energy surrounding him, and he gently eased it into his powerful arms, enhancing them with strength and speed. He had no idea how this power had come to be. He had started to feel it when he had reached adolescence, a gentle tingling of energy surrounding his body. Being sheltered his entire life in the camps, he had never heard of the Way, nor witnessed the power himself. All he knew, over years of experimenting, was that he could channel the energy into his arms and legs to give him extra strength, speed, and endurance. The first day he realized this was when he was sixteen and swinging a pick deep in a mine shaft. He was exhausted and could hardly move his arms. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he felt a new energy hovering around his body. It was his aura, although at the time he knew not what it was. He was somehow able to direct it into his extremities and gradually the pick began to get lighter, as if it were a feather. The sensation had felt awkward at first, like a warm light cloth fluttering around his torso. But as he swung the pick the energy around him seemed eager to push into his legs and arms, and he let it, releasing the damn and filling his muscles in his legs and arms with new energy. The metal head came down again and again, shattering stone in a shower of sparks. He had reveled in this new power, his body stronger than it had ever been. But he learned something else that day. His body could only provide so much aura energy at a time, and once gone, he deflated like a wine skin in a bar. He had barely made it back to his bilt that evening. Since then, he had learned to control the amount of energy he expelled, dispersing it in small amounts and sudden quick movements. He found that when he ate and rested, his aura strength returned. Exhausting it all quickly would leave him so weak that he could barely walk, but if he used small amounts in quick doses, it would last much longer and allow his body time to replenish the energy, how that happened he was unsure.
Brant lifted his hands to protect his face and moved in, jabbing with his left hand, trying to get a feel for his opponent. Bargos danced around lightly, exuding confidence as he dodged the jab, returning it with his own impossibly quick strike. Brant lifted his arm to deflect it, but at the last moment realized it was a ruse. Coming in fast and low, Bargos crouched and shot forward, wrapping his strong arms around Brant’s thighs and lifting up with his powerful legs. The warden carried him forward before slamming him down on his back. It felt like a bull had hit him.
The crowd screamed as Brant grunted, the air rushing from his lungs, the impact slamming his head onto the ground. Seeing stars, Brant wrapped his arms around the warden’s waist, sent a rush of aura energy into them and leaned back, tossing the warden through the air with intense strength. Bargos landed five paces away but quickly regained his footing, seemingly unaffected by the throw, but a bit more wary as he looked at Brant with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. Brant was still feeling a bit dazed and his movements were neither confident nor spry. But he stood up as quickly as he could, breathing deeply as he tried to refill his lungs. His head was pounding and his back felt bruised, but he had been through worse.
Bargos closed the distance quickly, fists flashing out incredibly fast. They traded blows and blocks, neither gaining much of an advantage. After a quick exchange of punches and blocks, Bargos changed tactics and kicked out with his right leg. Brant didn’t expect it. Most fighters relied solely on their fists, and Brant had relatively little experience fighting someone who also used their feet as weapons. As the warden’s foot shot quickly forward, the ball of his foot connected solidly with Brant’s chin, snapping his head back violently. Luckily his mouth was closed. The blow was so hard he could have broken some teeth or even bitten off his tongue. He staggered, nearly falling over, and without really thinking, instinctively channeled some aura energy into his head, trying to clear away the blackness threatening to overwhelm him. He had never used the energy that way; he had never had to. But he knew that if he didn’t regain his senses he would find himself on the ground in mere moments.
And he was right. Bargos followed the kick with a series of lightning fast jabs, but somehow the aura energy had helped Brant shake off the dizziness and lift up his hands, blocking the blows sufficiently to prevent any major damage. Bargos was caught a bit by surprise; he had thought Brant was done. And, as a result, he was not suspecting Brant’s next move. Sending some aura energy into his right leg, Brant kicked out in a sideways arc, hoping to connect solidly with the side of the warden’s left leg. His right foot slammed into the side of Bargos’s knee, flipping his leg out from under him with such power that it flung his body into the air. He came down hard, landing on his side. The warden screamed in pain, stunned, as Brant pounced on him, straddling him with his powerful legs and bringing both fists down on his head again and again.
Bargos, despite his damaged knee, had enough sense to raise his arms to block the blows from striking his face. He had never felt such strength in one so young; each fist enhanced by aura energy, smashing into his forearms as he tried to protect his face. Bargos roared with fury, reached up with his strong arms and latched onto Brant’s neck, pulling him in to close the distance and take away his advantage by disabling Brant’s ability to use his fists. Then he did something that Brant had never seen before. He pulled Brant toward him and lifted his good leg up and around Brant’s neck, simultaneously gripping Brant’s right wrist and spinning him to the side. Before Brant could realize what happened he was face down in the dirt, his head wrapped in Bargos’s strong legs, while his arm was held, tightly twisted in Bargos’s powerful grip. The warden screamed in anger and with the intensity of his effort as he arched his back, exerting extreme pressure on Brant’s elbow and shoulder.
Now it was Brant’s turn to scream. He felt his arm flex under the strain, but he could do nothing. He tried to pulse aura energy into his arm, but he could not concentrate enough through the pain. His arm was going to break, he had no doubt.
“Do you submit?!” Bargos growled through clenched teeth.
Brant held on for a few more moments, but he knew almost immediately that Bargos was going to break his arm, ending the fight. “Yes!” he yelled. “I submit!”
The intense pain vanished as Bargos released his hold and scooted away. The crowd yelled and cheered, clearly excited and pleased with the fight. The warden slowly stood on his one good leg while Brant got to his knees, his right arm hanging limply at his side. Bargos reached down with his hand, smiling for the first time. “You’re a tough kid.”
Brant said nothing, but gripped his hand as the warden helped him to his feet, the crowd still howling in excitement. “I’ve never seen a move like that,” Brant stammered through deep breaths, slowly moving his right arm to make sure it wasn’t seriously injured.
“I should think not,” was all Bargos said before limping away into the crowd.
Kulvar Rand strode toward Brant. “How is your arm?”
“I’m not sure. It doesn’t seem to be broken. But it sure feels like it.”
“I imagine so. You did well.”
“It doesn’t feel like it,” Brant murmured, smiling wanly.
“You fought a warden. It shouldn’t have lasted that long. We need to talk.”
“What about?”
“You will find out soon enough. The Dygon Guard is camped just outside the camp. Meet me there shortly.”
Brant nodded. “I’ll be there,” he said, apprehensive but curious.
Brant found their camp easily enough and several perimeter guards, recognizing him from the fight, escorted him to Kulvar Rand’s tent. When he entered Kulvar was at a small desk going through some papers. He looked up when Brant entered and motioned for him to sit in a chair opposite him.
“Care for a drink?”
Brant was still sore and thirsty from the fight. “Yes, sir.”
Kulvar poured some yellow juice from a pitcher at his table. “It is amayis juice, have you had it before?”
Brant had not, although he had heard of it. It was a fruit that came from the southern reaches of Belorth. They did not recei
ve any luxuries in the camp, nor did they have the coin to purchase any even if they did. “I have not.”
“It is tart but refreshing, with just a hint of sweetness. I think you will enjoy it.”
Brant took a sip and smiled. Kulvar was right. It was delicious. His mouth puckered slightly at first and then the acidic taste melted away and was replaced by a honey-like sweetness. It was absolutely delicious and Brant took another long quaff. “It’s amazing.”
Kulvar smiled. “Let us get to business.” Brant sat up straighter, sensing the serious change in the warrior’s demeanor. “Young man, you did something today that could get you into some serious trouble.”
Brant narrowed his eyes and set the cup back down on the table. He did something? How can he say that, Brant thought? His father had just died and he had been forced to pay off his debt by fighting a trained warden. Why would he be in trouble? His anger began to rise. “What do you mean?” he said guardedly.
Kulvar blinked and turned on his towd, or aura sight, noticing clearly that Brant’s aura had instantly changed from a calm yellow to a wavy red. Kulvar was a Merger, a born Aurit like his father before him, and he had been trained how to use and control it. His father, the lord of House Rand, a powerful family from Tanwen, had steered Kulvar into warden training at a young age, and by the time he had turned twenty three he had already made it through the advanced warden training and had become a Dygon Guard. You didn’t have to have the Way to be a warden, but you needed it to become a Dygon Guard. And Kulvar was the best, not just with the blade, but there was no Merger he had yet met that could match him in strength. “Calm yourself, young man, you are not in any trouble…at least not from me.”
Brant relaxed a bit, but only slightly. “I don’t understand.”
Kulvar leaned forward and looked into Brant’s penetrating gaze, his own black eyes equally intense. “Brant, you are a Merger. Do you know what that is?”
Brant sat back in his chair. He had heard the word before, but only in idle gossip from other miners, and he wasn’t exactly sure what it meant. “I’ve heard the word. But I do not really know its meaning.”
“It means you are an Aurit. You were born with the ability to control your aura, to harness it to give you more strength. These abilities are very rare outside the noble families, and in fact illegal in many kingdoms throughout Corvell and Belorth. In Gilia or Layona, you would be hunted down and killed. So I’m trying to warn you. Use this power sparingly, and be careful when you do.”
Brant’s mind was spinning. So that was what it was called. He was a Merger, and the power he was accessing was his aura. “What is an aura and how did you know I had this ability?”
“For one, I could tell when you fought Bargos. That throw was powerful, and your punches stunned even the mighty Bargos. And that kick to your chin should have knocked you out, yet you were able to shake it off. I suspect that even he knows there is something special about you. On top of that, I am able to perceive your aura when I so choose. It is not so difficult to recognize the use of the Way in one’s aura.” Kulvar took a sip of his amayis juice. “As far as your aura, well that is difficult to explain. Every person has an aura, an energy field around their bodies. Some think it is part of our soul, others think it is given to us by Argon and Felina, while still others believe it is simply left over energy from the source that keeps us alive and moving. I do not know. But there are only a relative few who possess the Way, the ability to control this aura, and that gift has been carefully guarded within the noble families of Corvell and even Belorth. Some can channel their aura energy into their muscles, giving them enhanced strength and speed and some can even send this energy into their weapons. These people are like you and I. They are Mergers.”
“You are a Merger?”
“I am. All Dygon Guards must be Mergers, which is why we are all from noble houses. You see, this power is carefully guarded, kept within the royal lineages through hundreds of years of marriage and breeding among the noble families. That is why we are not allowed to marry outside the noble families. But there are occasions when noble men and women break these laws, sometimes producing a common bastard who has the Way. And, as I said, any common boy or girl exhibiting these powers is usually hunted down and killed. In some kingdoms, like Dy’ain, they are not, at least as long as House Dormath has been in charge. Previous ruling houses had not all shared their sentiments, but, even with House Dormath ruling Dy’ain, their powers are still seen as a threat and such individuals are often shunned, banned, or even persecuted. Let’s just say that it would not be in your best interest if others found out about your ability. You may be banished from the kingdom, or even worse, imprisoned.”
“But I’ve done nothing wrong.”
Kulvar smiled dismissively. “It matters not. You’re power is a threat to the ruling houses.”
“So why are you telling me this?”
“I like you. You have courage. And just because I’m of noble blood does not mean I agree with everything the aristocracy believes. I personally believe that if Argon and Felina saw fit to gift you with such power, that it must be for a reason. Who am I to deny the desires of the gods?”
Brant was not a religious man. It was hard for him to believe in gods that seemed to allow so many injustices in the world. The camps were not really a place where the topic of religion was discussed, but he did know that most people in Corvell would consider themselves Argonians, though some still worshipped the old gods. Clearly Kulvar Rand was Argonian.
“You said that Mergers can channel their aura into their weapons. How is this done?
“Very carefully,” Kulvar said with a smile. “It takes some time to learn how to do this without destroying the blade. But once mastered the one who possesses such a skill can become a formidable warrior. Have you ever wondered why Kul-brite metal is so costly?”
“I thought it was because it was so rare, and of course strong.”
“Partly so, but the real value of the metal comes from its properties. It is the only metal able to withstand the power of aura energy. But even Kul-brite has its limitations. A really powerful Merger may produce enough energy to burn even a Kul-brite blade. One must learn to control that kind of power. If I were to channel my energy into a regular sword, the metal would heat up and break very quickly. Or if the Merger was particularly powerful he could produce enough energy to completely incinerate the blade. But Kul-brite steel can withstand the intense power, especially if the Merger can control it, making the weapon itself even more powerful. Lords and kings all across the lands will pay exorbitant amounts for a Kul-brite blade or armor.”
Brant’s eyes widened in surprise. “Armor? I can’t imagine how expensive that would be,” he muttered to himself. Of course he had seen small amounts of Kul-brite metal, and he knew the value of just those small nuggets, making it almost incomprehensible to imagine a full suit of armor made from it.
“Only a king could afford such a thing,” Kulvar agreed. “How long have you been using this power?”
“I guess since I was sixteen.”
“Have you started having hallucinations yet?”
Brant frowned. “Hallucinations? You mean seeing things?”
“Yes, but more like tracers…like a colorful flickering of lights surrounding people.”
Brant shook his head. “Nothing like that.”
“That may come soon. Once you begin to really unlock the power, you will start to see the auras of people around you. The ability to see the auras of others is known as the towd, which is how I knew you were a Merger, since I have that ability. You must learn to control this or it will overwhelm you. Imagine seeing dancing colors around every person surrounding you. It can be disorientating unless you learn to shut off your towd.”
“But how do I learn to do this?”
“I cannot teach you this during a casual conversation. It is something you will have to learn to do on your own. All I can tell you is that you need to find something on
which to concentrate, a focal point to distract you, and once you can train your mind to focus on that, then you can turn your towd on and off at will. This requires some mental training and practice.” Kulvar Rand paused for a moment, giving Brant some time to let everything sink in. “Now, I’m afraid I do not have the time to teach you more about Aurit abilities. I have a shipment moving out tomorrow and preparations to complete,” Kulvar said as he grabbed a small bag on the table and tossed it to Brant. “In the bag is some coin.” Brant was just about to ask him about it when Kulvar waved him off. “Do not fret. You fought hard and will need it to survive. It is nothing to me but may be everything to you.” Brant was thankful, knowing that it was not part of the deal. Kulvar Rand had only promised to pay his debt. There was to be no extra coin unless he had won the fight, which he had not. “Remember what I said, be careful and use your power sparingly and only when there is desperate need. I wish you luck, young man.”
Brant picked up the bag of coins as he rose to his feet. “I appreciate your help,” he said, offering his hand, “thank you.”
Kulvar shook it. “If I may give you a suggestion I would recommend you stay away from the big cities. Go to the small towns near Kreb or Tanwen, try to find work as a laborer. Many farmers will be planting soon and you may find work with them.”
Brant nodded. “Thanks again.” Then he turned and walked out the tent, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. He was apprehensive and excited at the same time. What would he do? Where would he go? He had no idea, but that in itself was exciting. For once his day would not be planned for him. For once he would not be wielding a pick or hammer from dawn until dusk. The road before him was unknown, but he smiled, welcoming the uncertainty, as he walked back to the mining camp, eager to grab his few belongings and start his new life.
The Steel Lord: Book 01 - BannerFall Page 5
