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by Declan, Brian


  Rocious turned to Falcon, Falcon leaned away and squinted at him.

  “Don’t look at me.”

  “We’ll start training tomorrow. It’ll work,” said Rocious.

  Falcon pushed back from the table and put his hands up, “Wait a minute here, how am I supposed to do it if you can’t?”

  “You have a better tool. Besides, you already learned how to jump,” said Rocious.

  “You mean me blowing myself up? No.” said Falcon.

  “Okay, so you need to refine it a bit. But you got the hard part,” said Rocious.

  Falcon stood up rattling the table, “Hard part! I don’t even know what I did and I don’t want to die figuring it out.”

  “Oh, come on now. You’ve seen me use magic to jump thousands of times. It’s safe,” said Rocious.

  Falcon slammed the table, “Then you do it.”

  Rocious slammed the table also, “Dammit boy!”

  Colville shoved the table across the floor a few inches knocking Rocious back and forcing Falcon into his seat again, “Clearly the boy’s scared.”

  Colville put his hand up cutting off Falcon as he opened his mouth.

  “I don’t know a thing about magic, but you can’t keep banking on his talent to figure it out. You need to teach him, explain it to him, show him how it works.”

  Rocious started to speak, stopped, then started again, “You’re are right to be scared. We… I will try to be more thorough. Where do I begin?” asked Rocious to himself.

  “The jumping,” suggested Colville.

  Rocious scratched his chin, “No, more basic. There are three categories for magical expressions. Four, in my opinion, but whatever. First, the stable construct like what you used to clean up the shed, or the ropes of flame I create. It’s the bread and butter of expressive magic. Understand?” asked Rocious.

  “Basic construct, I think so,” said Falcon.

  “Second is burst, like we use for jumping. Hard to do because you need to cut off the flow of magic extremely fast.”

  “What’s so hard about that?” asked Falcon.

  Rocious let a quick breath out his nose, “I’ve been having you refine the skill for years with the runes. It’s not something pathos usually learn because it’s not always useful. Well, not until you refine it.”

  “Seems a bit shortsighted on their part,” said Falcon.

  “It is but cautious. Third is arguably the most difficult, I don’t remember the name. I call it the sustained construct. Like that lingering ball of flame,” said Rocious.

  “Okay, what’s the fourth?” asked Falcon.

  Rocious leaned back and drained his cup, “We call it simply Omni. You did it when you were in the forge the other day.”

  “Who is we?” asked Falcon.

  “Our opinion is more accurate. See Omni drains your magic incredibly fast, hence you passing out the other day. It takes an enormous amount of magic to sustain Omni. I have only met one other pathos who has successfully used it for any length of time,” said Rocious.

  “Who was that?” asked Falcon.

  Rocious put his cup on the table, “The only other attuned I’ve known to pass the trials: Praetorian Gaius Augustus Caldwell. My mentor.”

  Falcon looked up at the cliff, his eyes following the same cracks and crags he had stared at every day for months. His eyes traced the top of the cliff to the lowest ridge that was his goal. For weeks he had been practicing by launching stones to that ridge, slowly increasing the size of the stones. In the past few days he had successfully launched stones twice his own weight. The plan was to practice for one more day and go for it tomorrow, but when he rolled out of bed this morning he felt tired, so tired.

  He was tired not because his body needed more rest or his brain was worn out. He was tired of practicing, tired of delaying. He wanted this trial to be over, and after today it would be. Today, he would not be launching stones he would be launching himself. He would be on top of the cliff, or dead. One way or another the trial would end today.

  “Don’t forget the rope,” said Colville holding out the rope.

  Falcon slipped his arm through the loops of rope, then his head and secured it tightly around his chest. Rocious squeezed his shoulder and the two men moved away to let him prepare himself.

  He honed in on his target, focusing in on the details of the ridge, trying to memorize the shape of every stone and every patch of loose gravel or foliage. He realized he was stalling. He’d memorized every bit of that ridge weeks ago. He could close his eyes and paint every detail if he had to. Instead he closed his eyes and brought a different image to his mind: the image of Aemilia looking into his eyes.

  The sheet of magic he had spread beneath his feet pulled magic from him. He closed his hand and cut off the flow sending him soaring through the air. He opened his eyes, locked onto the ridge, and instantly realized he was not going to make it. Something was off and he was going to hit the cliff face at least twenty feet below the top. He quickly spread a small sheet of magic between himself and the cliff then waited to trigger it until he was closer to the ridge.

  When he could almost reach out and touch the cliff face he triggered the sheet of magic. A jolt of force sent him flipping end over end. As he was flipping he caught a glimpse of a ridge as he passed by, the next flip he saw it again. Only this time it was farther away. Again he created a sheet of magic to redirect himself and took a wild guess hoping the timing was right to send him in the correct direction. This time he got it right and sent himself into a patch of sage bushes.

  He rolled to his feet, checking for injuries. He barely had a scratch on him, just a few minor scraps from the bushes. He had not even cleaned himself off before he heard Rocious and Colville cheering. He shook himself out of the rope, looped it around a solitary boulder that dominated the ridge. Then tossed the ends over the ledge.

  Falcon lay on the ground and leaned his head over the ledge, “I made it, but I don’t see anything up here!”

  “What?!” shouted Colville.

  “There’s NOTHING UP HERE!!” screamed Falcon again.

  “WHAT?! We’re coming up!” shouted Colville.

  “Whatever,” he said to himself.

  While they climbed the ropes Falcon climbed on top of the boulder to survey the area. There was not much to see other than the large boulder he was on, a mound that was once the shrine and a flat area covered in sage bushes. On the far side of the flat area was another sheer drop leading into the Hadrian mountain range.

  It was beautiful though. From the boulder he could see for miles in every direction, no wonder men risked their lives to man an outpost up here. Even without a sight glass he could survey the entire area.

  Falcon hopped down to search the mound for any clues, or at least figure out what the shrine was for. He dug around the stones and pulled up the overgrown foliage until he heard the heavy breathing of Colville reaching the top. Falcon ran over to give him a hand around the lip of the ridge.

  Colville cleared his lungs with a quick exhale, “I win,” he called over the ledge.

  Falcon handed Colville a flask of water from his pack, “Actually, I won.”

  Colville rolled his eyes, “I didn’t bet you.”

  A minute later Rocious reached the top and with a sudden jolt rolled around the lip of the ridge. He lay on his back panting, “Save the best for last.”

  They passed around the flask of water and sat for a minute to catch their breath. Falcon emptied the rest of his pack: a few tools for digging, some food for the three of them and a box of candles.

  “I found an inscription on the shrine. Some letters, Vul—n,” said Falcon.

  “Aye. Vulcan is said to be the divine protector of the forge. It was his shrine,” said Colville.

  “I’ll take a look but it doesn’t seem like what we’re looking for,” said Rocious.

  The three of them spent the rest of the morning searching and digging, trying to find any sign of the outpost from Dominick�
��s records.

  “Let’s take a break, I’m getting hungry,” said Falcon.

  “You’re always hungry,” said Rocious.

  “We could use a break, need a better plan,” said Colville.

  Rocious stopped digging and joined the other two, “You’re right, we are running out of places to look.”

  “I told you there was nothing up here,” said Colville.

  Falcon sat next to the boulder, “The wind is picking up, we aren’t going to be able to spend the night up here.”

  Colville joined him next to the boulder, but Rocious stood in front of them scanning the boulder while he ate. After finishing his food Colville hopped up, “We’re wasting daylight, best get back to looking.”

  “Hold on,” said Rocious.

  “What is it?” asked Falcon.

  “I’m not sure, you got me thinking. This wind is getting pretty bad, and today’s pretty calm. There’s no way an outpost would stay standing up here during a storm,” said Rocious.

  “You’re thinking they buried it?” asked Colville.

  Rocious motioned for them to move away from the boulder, “I’m thinking the boulder’s on top of it. Or covering the entrance.”

  “What are you planning to do?” asked Colville.

  “Blow up the boulder,” said Rocious.

  Colville jumped in front of Rocious, “And how do you expect us to get down? The rope is tied to it.”

  Rocious paused and scratched his chin, “Good point. Falcon should do it.”

  “Let me get the rope first,” said Colville.

  Falcon created a series of magical constructs similar to a balloon around one side of the boulder. When he triggered them they expanded slowly until they were squeezed between the ground and the boulder. Then he fed it more magic expanding them until the boulder started rolling. He felt himself start to sweat, and sent a quick surge of magic into the constructs causing the boulder to roll onto its side.

  He tried to take a step and his vision went black for a moment. He blinked a few times to clear it and realized Colville was holding him up.

  “You alright?” asked Colville.

  “Dizzy,” said Falcon.

  “No more magic for today,” said Rocious, slipping his arm under Falcon and helping him sit.

  Falcon tried to stand on his own but his vision narrowed, “How’s it look?” he asked.

  “It looks like Frederick was right. We’ve gotta dig it out though,” said Colville.

  “You’re not efficient with those constructs. We’ll clear it, you rest,” said Rocious.

  Falcon did not try to argue, he lay down and was asleep in moments. The next thing he knew Rocious was waking him up and the sun had moved across the sky.

  “We finished clearing it. Come check it out,” said Rocious.

  Falcon took a lit candle from Rocious and followed him down a simple stone staircase into the outpost. It looked more like a small library or bedroom. Off to one side was a single bed, a desk and a wardrobe. The room was lined with bookshelves.

  Colville had already started searching the desk. Falcon went right to the bookshelves and started scanning them while Rocious checked the wardrobe.

  “All the books are rotted through. I can only read the titles of a few, topographical maps, surveying records, and Praetorian Probatio. Whatever that is,” said Falcon.

  “I found something interesting,” said Rocious. He pulled a dusty old cloak out of the wardrobe and showed it to them.

  “What’s interesting about that?” asked Colville.

  Rocious shook some of the dirt off, “For one, it’s a master’s cloak similar to Falcon’s and it’s been preserved somehow.”

  He kept shaking more dirt out of it, revealing a cloak that looked dirty but otherwise flawless.

  “My guess is whoever built this place had the same abilities as Falcon,” said Rocious.

  “His power seems ideally suited for the task,” said Colville.

  “Anything in the desk?” asked Falcon.

  Colville went back to the desk, “No, but I can’t get this drawer open. It’s locked.”

  “Let me see. I’ve never found a lock I couldn’t blow up,” said Rocious.

  “Don’t burn the place down,” said Colville.

  Rocious put his hand to his chest, “I only destroy when I want to.”

  “Like my shed?” asked Colville.

  Rocious pushed him out of the way, took a look at the drawer. He snapped his fingers and the lock popped barely shaking the desk.

  “Destroyed the right amount,” said Rocious. He pulled the drawer open revealing a package wrapped in doeskin and a key. He took both, handed the wrapping to Falcon and held up the key to examine.

  “Did you find anything else? Anything that might take a key?” asked Rocious.

  “No,” said Colville.

  Falcon put the package on the desk and unwrapped the doeskin, “I think I figured out whose place this was.”

  “Whose?” asked Colville.

  Without warning the bed flew across the room almost hitting Falcon and Colville.

  They jumped toward the exit, “Do you have to scare the shit out of us like that?” screamed Colville to Rocious. “I almost had a heart attack.”

  “I found where the key goes. There’s a lockbox under the bed,” said Rocious.

  Colville ignored him and turned to Falcon, “You were saying?” asked Colville.

  “Albatross Reed: it’s the name on the package,” said Falcon.

  “Mother Fucker. He had a dragon scale,” said Rocious. He tried to lift it, “It’s huge. I can’t even pick it up.”

  Colville pushed past him, “Weak.”

  Colville strained to pick up the scale until his face turned red and gave finally gave up.

  “Told ya it was heavy,” said Rocious reaching over to give him a hand. Falcon joined and the three carried their findings outside.

  “I say we toss it,” suggested Rocious.

  Colville raised his eyebrows at the thought.

  “Unless there’s a better idea, I’m game,” said Falcon, “we could use the ropes, but I’m tired. Let’s toss it,” said Falcon.

  They stumbled up to the ledge and tossed the scale as quickly as they could.

  Colville checked the position of the sun, “It’ll be tough to get down before dark,” said Colville.

  Rocious leaned over over the edge, “See ya at the bottom.”

  Then he flicked a loop of flaming rope around the boulder and stepped off the cliff.

  “Sometimes I really hate him,” said Colville.

  Chapter 19

  Coronation

  “Clearly the outpost belonged to Falcon’s ancestor,” said Colville.

  Rocious swirled his ale, “Dominick would want to see the journal, might lead to his armor,” said Rocious.

  “He hasn’t found the armor because he hasn’t earned it and now he wants you to do it for him,” said Colville.

  “Is that why you didn’t give it to Arthur? He hadn’t earned it?” said Rocious.

  Colville ground his teeth and Rocious could hear his knuckles pop below the table, “Be careful.”

  Rocious moved his mug to the side and leaned on the table, “He is your King; I was there when you bent the knee. Are you willing to break that vow over a book?”

  Colville relaxed his muscles then placed his hands on the edge of the table and leaned forward slightly, “I intend to keep my vow.”

  Rocious relaxed and reached for his mug. Colville lifted his side of the table and kicked it into Rocious’s face. Rocious shattered the table as he sent a ball of fire at Colville. After his kick, Colville spun to the side and caught Rocious’s arm. He jerked him forward and locked his head. Rocious pushed himself backwards trying to slam Colville against the wall. Colville loosened his grip on Rocious and added to the momentum of the push. Just before hitting the wall he moved to the side and slammed Rocious’s head into the wall. Rocious crumpled to the floor. Co
lville gave him one more blow to ensure he was unconscious.

  Falcon rushed down the stairs, “What happened?”

  Colville motioned him closer, “Give me a hand.”

  “Where are we taking him?” asked Falcon.

  Colville grabbed Rocious under the arms, “The stable. He’s no longer welcome here. The pack horses are stupid, but they know their way to Dominion,” said Colville.

  “I know he can be a pain but you can’t be serious,” said Falcon.

  Colville started dragging Rocious across the floor, “I am. I wish it were a joke, but it’s not.”

  “He’s never going to forgive you for this,” warned Falcon.

  Colville stopped struggling with his body, “Are you going to help or not?”

  “No,” said Falcon.

  Colville nudged the door open. Falcon returned to his room and sat on his bed then picked up the journal to start reading. He was still on the first page when Colville opened his bedroom door.

  Falcon put the journal back on the nightstand, and waited.

  Colville sat on the edge of his bed.

  “We need to talk,” said Colville.

  “We don’t. This is your home, you can do whatever you want,” said Falcon.

  Colville got up and sat closer placing his hand on Falcon’s shin, “You don’t understand.”

  Falcon swung his legs off the opposite side of the bed turning his back to Colville, “What precisely do I not understand?”

  Colville touched Falcon’s shoulder trying to see his face, “What happened with Frederick.”

  Falcon jerked his shoulder away and went to the door.

  “You kicked him out of his home. What precisely do I not understand?”

  Colville stood up and tried to look Falcon in the eye but he stared straight ahead, “I know you’re angry, but I had to send him away.”

  “I’m not angry,” snapped Falcon as he looked at Colville, “I was angry when I lost my home. This,” Falcon pointed at his face then at his heart, “This is hatred. Anger is irrational. I am not irrational.”

  Colville rested his hand on Falcon’s shoulder, “This is still your home.”

  Falcon knocked his hand away, “This was never my home,” he said as he shut the door.

 

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