The Ranger (Book 1)

by E. A. Whitehead

  A few of the other new knights had already arrived and were sitting on a bench just to the left of the thrones. Thomas pointed toward them. Vincent nodded and they started walking to where they would sit.

  A loud crash from behind startled them. Vincent turned just in time to see Jan, another initiate, trip over a bench and fall flat on his face while his training companion Mark stood and laughed.

  “It’s not that funny,” Jan grumbled as he got up and brushed himself off. The four of them continued to the bench where the other six initiates sat conversing excitedly about the upcoming event. Vincent had just sat down when Auna walked over to the group.

  “Is everyone ready for tonight?” he asked. There was a murmur of yes. “I hope you are, for your sakes. Your performance tonight will determine your futures as knights.” Auna cast an appraising glance down the line of initiates, a few of them shifted uncomfortably as his gaze crossed them.

  “You will all be fine,” Auna finished with a smile. “Vincent, could I have a word?” Auna took Vincent by the arm without another word and led him a short distance away. “How are you feeling?” he asked at length.

  “Good,” Vincent lied. He felt like he was about to throw up.

  “There is nothing to worry about,” Auna said reassuringly. “You have what it takes to win. I’ve know it since you first came to the abbey. You’re like your father in every way. He would be proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

  “Wait,” Vincent said, shocked, “you knew my father?”

  “We were good friends,” Auna replied fondly. “You are more like him than you know.”

  “Then why didn’t you ever say anything?”

  “I had my reasons, and one day, I may tell you. Suffice it to say it was for your protection. Now, do your father proud, and win this tournament. I believe in you Vincent,” Auna whispered with a wink before returning Vincent to the group of initiates and taking his seat to the immediate left of the thrones.

  Vincent and the others went back to talking excitedly between themselves. The benches were quickly filling. Vincent laughed as Jan started to explain his theory as to what was going to happen that evening, but his story was cut short as a sudden hush fell over the assembled crowd. Vincent turned in his seat to see four Valkyrie, the heavily armed, female counterpart to the knights and personal bodyguards to the abbots of the other abbeys, exit the small gate from the grounds of the abbey. They stood just outside the gate as ten more followed leading the six abbots of Pallà.

  Vincent’s eyes quickly fell on Abbot Markov, Grand Abbot of Pallà. He resided in a special chamber below the Great Dome. He was an old man with a long white beard and a care-worn face. Age had bent his withered frame and he leaned heavily on the ornate staff he used as a walking stick. However, it was his eyes that caught Vincent’s attention; they were a deep green and seemed to burn with the fire of youth.

  This had always puzzled Vincent, just as Auna puzzled him. There was some mysterious connection between the two of them; but he didn’t have time to contemplate the mysteries of the old man as something else caught his attention. Walking next to the abbot was a man he had never seen before.

  There was nothing overly unusual about the man; he was tall, just a little taller than Vincent, with thick, unkempt, black hair. A thick white scar cut across his tanned face from just above his left eye to just below his left ear. The man’s eyes were just like Master Auna’s, a deep, fiery red on white. He was dressed as a Knight of Sandora, but his tunic was black and he wore a black cloak around his shoulders like a cape. He also wore a very worn looking pair of leather gloves. It was not unusual to see knights wearing different tunics as every abbey had its own colors, but Vincent had not seen a knight wearing a black tunic since he first came to the abbey. Black tunics were worn by the Rangers who brought him there. Rangers generally didn’t come to the abbey, at least if they did, no one ever saw them. He didn’t know why, but he had the strange feeling that he had seen the man somewhere before. A white hilted sword was tied to his waist; much like the one Auna had been wearing earlier that day.

  The abbots took their seats in the thrones set for them. The strange man sat just to their right. A murmur of excitement grew from the crowd; but Abbot Markov only remained seated for a moment as the other abbots settled before rising again.

  The man in black was lost to Vincent as the excitement spread to him. The tournament was about to begin.

  “Welcome one and all,” the Abbot’s frail voice echoed as silence fell across the crowd. “We meet this night to celebrate the advancement of these ten fine knights from the academy to the Order of the Knights of the Most Holy Sandora.”

  A riotous cheer erupted from the crowd. The Abbot allowed it to continue for a moment, as Vincent and his companions basked in the praise, before he raised his hand, silencing the crowd instantly.

  “They have studied hard for the last five years learning the arts of war as well as studying the doctrines of their Goddess. They have become devoted servants to the Goddess as well as valiant defenders of their faith,” the Abbot continued. “The graduation ceremony last night marked the end of their formative training. This, the presentation of the new knights, marks the beginning of a new journey; one of learning, one of service, and one of valor.

  “Here, gathered tonight, are the heads of each abbey across this land. After viewing the abilities demonstrated here tonight, these knights,” the Abbot indicated Vincent and the others, “will receive their assignments, based on the needs of the abbeys. However, this year there is an assignment of such difficulty, that only the very best of knights could withstand it. While there is no guarantee that this year’s winner will be up to the challenge, he will be considered the primary candidate for the role.” The level of excitement grew.

  “There are, however, certain technicalities that must first be taken care of before we can continue,” said the Abbot, ignoring the excited buzz. “As most, if not all, of you are well aware, one requirement for graduation from the academy is gaining favor in the eyes of the Goddess, Sandora. In ages past this favor was manifest in the Token, or the power, that each knight received. Sadly, that gift from the Goddess is but a shadow of what it used to be. This year we were fortunate to have five knights receive a Token. What is even more exciting is that we had four different tokens granted among the five. There are many tokens granted by the Goddess. Among the priests to some it is given the power to heal, to others the power to create protective barriers, while others can control the growth of plants or communicate with animals. Knights receive tokens that allow them to manipulate the elements: Earth, Lightning, Fire, Water, and Shadow. This makes them truly powerful as warriors. The instructors in the academy are all skilled with their elements and have striven to teach control to their students. The instructors will demonstrate the full potential the tokens which were granted to the students, and then the knights will demonstrate their level of control over their token.” Abbot Markov nodded to Master Auna before sitting down. Master Auna rose to his feet, and strode to the center of the training field.

  “First we shall have the Token of Earth,” He said loudly. Two instructors rose to their feet and joined him on the field. Vincent recognized them as Sir Randy Dunn and Sir John Thatcher, instructors of battle tactics. Auna returned to his seat, watching the instructors intently. The two men stared at each other for some time before saluting each other, clapping an open hand to their chest then raising their arm to the square. As their hands flowed through the air, a deep green glow enveloped them. They paused only a moment for the salute before jumping quickly away from each other.

  Sir Randy punched his fist into the ground, which molded around it like water. He pulled it out again, bringing a large chunk of earth with it. Plunging his second hand into the mass, he split it into two halves, each engulfing one of his hands. A quick flick of his arms sent both masses rocketing towards Sir John.

  Sir John flicked his wrists, sending two smaller balls of earth ju
mping into the air to intercept the approaching projectiles. Without a pause he swung his arms in front of him, sending a wave of earth cascading toward Sir Randy, who paid little heed; he simply stuck out a hand, blasting a hole through the approaching wave. They saluted one another once again then turned to the crowd and bowed to thunderous applause.

  “Well done,” Auna said approvingly as he returned to the field. To Vincent’s amazement, there was not a mark in the field to show that it had just been the scene of a fierce elemental battle. “We will now have the initiate, Peter Labbro, present his token.”

  Peter joined Auna on the field. He was a short but strong man with a long sword strapped to his back. The same green glow surrounded his hands. He dropped to one knee with his eyes closed, taking slow, deep breaths. He opened his eyes and punched the earth with all his strength, sending a small wave toward the abbots, tearing up everything in its path. The wave dissipated at the feet of the abbots leaving little sign of passage, although the ground was still slightly warped in places. Peter smiled happily to himself and returned to his seat as the crowd applauded politely.

  “Well done,” Master Auna said as he waited for Peter to return to his seat. “We will now have the demonstration of the Token of Shadow.” Master Auna returned to his seat as two knights took the field. They were Sir Derik Edmond, the Academy Master, and Sir Patrick Levier, Chief Patrol Officer. A pale white light was enveloping their hands as they walked, growing brighter with every step. They each moved to opposite sides of the field, facing each other.

  The two saluted one another then remained rather still. Vincent rubbed his eyes as the shadows cast from the torchlight seemed to grow longer. It wasn’t his eyes though; the shadows were growing and changing shape. The shadows seemed to flow like a thick liquid and they grouped and grew to the form of men. A small army now stood before both Sir Derik and Sir Patrick. Without warning the small groups charged at each other; all the shadow soldiers moving in perfect unison. They clashed, sword meeting sword. The skirmish lasted only a minute before Sir Derik and Sir Patrick each conjured great balls of light and hurled them toward the fighting shadows. The balls collided with a blinding explosion of light. When Vincent’s sight had returned, the field was empty.

  Master Auna returned to his place in the center of the field.

  “Well done, Sir Derik and Sir Patrick,” He said appreciatively. “We will now see the presentations of Kai Dragos.”

  Kai stepped forward without hesitation. He was a mountain of a man and the tallest person Vincent had ever seen. His height seemed unreal. Vincent only reached the middle of his chest. A matt of fiery red hair covered his head and crept down his face into a very tidy beard. His skin was deeply tanned and looked like new leather. He was by far the largest of the initiates. They had needed to forge a special suit of armour just for him.

  Kai raised a hand slowly into the air; white light seemed to float like mist around it. Vincent waited, expecting something spectacular from his display of confidence, but nothing happened. Vincent glanced around uncomfortably, trying to figure out what was going on. He noticed Master Auna standing a short distance behind Kai; an approving look on his face. It was then that Vincent noticed the ring of light around the field was shrinking, slowly pulling toward Kai.

  The Light crept slowly, plunging the training field into total darkness; except for the ball of concentrated light hovering above Kai’s hand. The light felt surreal. It cast no shadows, and shed light on nothing. It was just a ball of light, and it was all Vincent could see.

  The ball started shifting and contorting, changing shape until it emerged as a beautiful dove. The bird of light took off from Kai’s hand and soared gracefully into the air amid enchanted sighs from the gathered crowd. The bird abruptly split, becoming two, then four. Soon there was a flock of doves gliding about the ring. As the birds started to fade, the light started to return, revealing Kai, sitting once again in his spot on the bench.

  “Wonderful,” Master Auna said with a tone of admiration in his voice. “For those of you who don’t know, creating a shape, be it from shadow or light, is among the most difficult techniques of the Shadow Token. Making them move requires great control, and you did it smoothly. Congratulations.” An awed whisper cut across the crowd. “We are nearing the end of the presentations with only two tokens remaining. We will now see the presentation of the Token of Lightning.” Auna returned to his seat.

  Once again, two knights entered the field and saluted each other; but this time Vincent didn’t recognize them. They obviously came from a different abbey as their tunics were green. A yellow light formed around their hands as they faced off. Both raised a hand in the air; a deafening crack followed, accompanied by a blinding light. As Vincent’s sight retuned, he was able to see the two knights holding balls of lightning in their hands. They threw the balls into the air, which immediately arced around the field. As simple as the demonstration was, it was still effective in inspiring awe.

  “Well done,” Master Auna said, returning to the field. “We will now see the presentation of Jan Mazza and Thomas Honson.”

  Jan took his place on the field next to Auna; his long black hair hung disheveled around his shoulders. He closed his eyes, obviously concentrating as he embraced his token. Slowly the yellow light materialized around his hands. He opened his eyes and raised a hand into the air; palm open, facing the sky.

  A thunderous crack accompanied by a blinding flash shook the ground. Once again Vincent struggled to regain his vision. As it returned, he saw a ball of lightning hovering above Jan’s raised hand. Jan stared at the ball for a moment before raising his left arm straight out from his body, fingers held tightly together, pointing at a tree on the edge of the clearing. The ball shot down his raised arm to his outstretched hand and shot like a bolt, arcing across the field and hitting the tree, splitting it up the middle.

  The glow faded from his hands. He looked up at Master Auna, who towered above him, seeking approval. Auna nodded curtly. Jan smiled broadly as he returned to his seat.

  Thomas smiled at Vincent as he stood to take his turn. “Watch and learn,” he whispered as he passed. Thomas strutted confidently to the spot next to Master Auna on the field. He quickly called lightning from the clear sky, bouncing the ball from hand to hand. He casually tossed the ball into the air, which flew up a short distance before dropping to the ground, where it started to expand. The ball quickly grew into a vast sheet, creating a wall between Thomas and Master Auna, who seemed unfazed by the crackling wall standing a hair’s width from him. The wall stood for a moment before arcing back into the sky. Thomas returned triumphantly to his seat.

  “Beat that,” Thomas whispered as he took his seat.

  Vincent didn’t have time to answer as Master Auna once again addressed the crowd.

  “We will now have the final presentation.” Auna announced calmly. “There are two tokens which are so rare that only a handful of knights are privileged to hold. The Token of Water has not been instructed in this Academy since the fall of the Kingdom of Pallà, although there are a select few who have gained its mastery through other means. For this reason, the Token of Water will not be demonstrated tonight.

  “The other token, the Token of Fire, is equally rare. It has been many centuries since this academy has had the privilege of witnessing the presentation of the token of fire. It is therefore obvious that finding masters of the token to demonstrate it might be difficult, however, we are fortunate to have Master Jason Silva with us tonight, who will assist me in demonstrating the potential of the Token of Fire.”

  To Vincent’s surprise, the man in black who had accompanied Abbot Markov rose to his feet and joined Auna on the field. The man had a cold air about him, his face was completely expressionless. The crowd grew deathly silent in anticipation of what was surely to be a memorable experience. The token of fire was now used by only a handful of people making this demonstration a true rarity.

  Master Auna and the man in black
saluted each other in the customary manner. Their gloved hands already glowed deep red. The aura seemed to roll like flames, licking at their sleeves. The torches around the field suddenly erupted into white flames which rose into the air and shot toward the motionless men. The flames stopped in a tight ring around the two. They each reached up and grabbed a ball of fire from the air. An excited smile was growing on Auna’s face.

  “Begin.”

  They each sent their ball flying at the other at lightning speeds, and to Vincent’s surprise, they both dodged, bending in ways Vincent didn’t think possible. As their bodies contorted to dodge the flames they each managed to grab another ball and send it flying. It looked like an extremely precise dance as they moved in perfect harmony with the whirling flames. Vincent could see the excitement growing on Master Auna’s face, the strange light in his eyes growing brighter and brighter.

  Suddenly, Auna grabbed a ball of fire and pulled it into himself, forming armour. The man in black did the same. The white flames elongated from their hands, creating swords from the roaring fire. They both jumped into the air, unnaturally high, and met in a fiery ball. They moved faster than Vincent could follow with his eyes. Blades whirled with deadly accuracy, yet each strike was always met with a parrying blow.

  They jumped apart, landing at opposite ends of the field. Raising their hands into the air they started to create enormous balls of flame that grew bigger and bigger, as they laughed maniacally. Heat was pouring off the balls, washing over the crowd, and it was growing more and more intense by the second.

  “Jerome! That’s enough.”

  The balls of fire puffed out and with them went the heat as the two turned to look at Abbot Markov, who was now standing.

  “Forgive me, Lord Abbot,” Auna said breathlessly, “I got carried away.”