"Now boys. If the Mammoth here doesn't want the honor of our association, then we can't force him, can we?" Monroe said, whittling on the tree he'd been leaning on a second earlier. Uther watched the three of them warily. He knew malcontents when he met them. And these guys were definitely not going to treat him nicely.
"May I please head to class? I am going to be late." Uther said, equally as soft as he had before. Monroe motioned for him to go past him. Uther waited for Creosus and Proctor to clear a path, then took a second and began away. That's when the blade came across his path, nearly shaving the end of his nose. Uther flinched back reflexively as the others laughed.
"I almost forgot. There're a few rules around here that you need to be made aware of." Uther could feel the blood leave his body for a second. Why did bullies always have rules that they wanted followed?
"Actually, there is only one," Proctor offered. Monroe nodded.
"Quite right. There is only one." Monroe leaned closer, never taking the blade away from Uther's face.
"All rats go home." Uther could see the horrid intent in Monroe's eyes. "And that means you Silverback." Uther readied his hands behind his back, the fingernails growing long. He wasn't going to be taken without a fight.
"I assume then that you three will be leaving as well?" a powerful voice said from around the tree. Uther turned and saw a paladin he hadn't met walking toward them. All three boys stepped back, composing themselves so as not to look suspicious. Jack and his kissing companion came apart almost immediately, distancing themselves in the sight of an elder. Uther just watched the dark-haired paladin step forward. He was a powerful sight to behold. His presence and his demeanor spoke volumes of his authority. Uther could feel the strength in him, just from his voice.
"Sir Kasidyne," Monroe choked out. "We weren't-" Marcus put up a stifling hand and Monroe went still.
"Give me the blade." Monroe shrugged, but kept the short sword behind his back.
"What blade?" Creosus and Proctor both shrugged and shook their heads. Marcus smirked.
"The short blade. Now." Monroe's face turned dark and he handed the blade to the elder paladin. Marcus took it in his hand and frowned. "Underclassmen are not allowed to carry weapons on campus, unless you are inside the Holodrome, under direct Paladin supervision. Mister Prit, you know that." Monroe looked at his feet. Marcus put the blade in his belt and stepped up to Monroe, bringing himself within an inch of the large young man’s nose. Suddenly, Monroe didn't look so big anymore.
"We were just-" Marcus just glared at him.
“Yes?” Monroe gulped.
"Leaving." And the three began off toward the barracks. Jack smirked a little, giving Marcus a two-fingered salute. With a laugh, he swept his companion away with him. Marcus rolled his eyes and turned to Uther. Uther retracted his claws and watched them go for a moment.
"Thank you," he said simply. Marcus nodded.
"You want me to accompany you to class?" he asked, a genuine grin on his face. Marcus didn't look at him the way others did. In fact, Marcus looked as though he didn't notice the differences between them at all.
"No thank you. But I do appreciate your help." Marcus let him go a few steps, and then called to him.
"Um, um, um." Uther turned, a smirk on his face.
"You may call me Uther." Marcus shrugged.
"Uther. I would be slow to draw those claws of yours in the future. People are already afraid. No need to give them a reason." Uther got a queer look on his face. "Violence breeds violence." And with that, the elder paladin walked back toward his friends. Uther watched him step up to a blonde young man and a jade armored female dragoon. Both greeted him gladly. He wished he could have friends like that.
Uther had a great respect for Marcus Kasidyne. Most people did. Not only was he one of the most revered paladins at the academy, but he was also one of the very few humans who looked at him as a person, rather than a creature. And Marcus understood the calling the Un'Hok Tol had been given. Uther knew from his own insights that Marcus had prophetic dreams, and it was something that Uther could relate to.
In his meditations, Uther was given to flashes of insight. It was the other part of his gift. The Un'Hok Tol were called upon to heal wounds and ease pain around the world. But because of the almost insane fear that people had of magics or what they perceived as magics, the inborn gift of Uther's people was rejected. The other part of the gift was learning when that gift was to be administered. Uther freely gave his help when it didn't seem all that important. Mary's paper cut was a good example.
When his gift was truly required was a different matter altogether. The meditations were meant to reveal that to him. And all of his people had one time when they would show forth the mercy of Deity and use their gifts for more than just healing. When the sum total of all that they worked for would be shown the brightest. Uther had endeavored to find that moment and prepare for it. But his meditations had told him so very little. Only an image that he had to interpret.
In his vision, Uther stood in darkness, his hands grasping something just out of his view. As he grasped it, he could see suddenly, and a pillar of light rose up around him, stretching up into eternity. A howling wind prevailed, but it did not move Uther. Instead, he stood firm, holding to the ground he was set upon.
Shadows moved about his periphery, speaking in hushed tones and moving with urgency. Uther had never been able to determine them. He was bathed in the light, consumed by it. It was all he knew. And ultimately, he would disappear into it. Uther didn't know what the images meant. And he had been seeing it since his was three. Even the interpreters back home had no idea how to explain it. But his father had reasoned that they couldn't interpret, because they were not allowed to. Uther would have to divine it for himself.
Uther looked around for a moment. He sensed something, but he couldn't see it. There was a presence here, but he could not pinpoint it. Uther stood and turned toward the exit. He was alone, and he could hear only the sounds of dripping water. He stepped over to the faucet, which was situated over a basin. It was there for the janitors, used to fill buckets for mopping. The basin made a slight slurping sound as the remaining water circled the drain. Uther gave the leaky faucet handle a twist. The dripping stopped, and Uther tried to feel the presence again. But now there was nothing.
Great, now I am imagining things, he thought. Uther turned back to where he'd been sitting, but decided it was best if he just went to bed. He walked out of the Holodrome, his answer still withheld. He had a nagging feeling inside that what he needed to know, he wouldn't know until the very last moment.
"Today, we start on the history of the Paladin-Dread Paladin conflict, and the particular ranks within the Dread Paladin Order." Marcus could see by the round of uninterested faces that he was in for a long haul. Today's lesson was in the Holo-theater, a viewing room on the third floor of the Holodrome. Most of the time, the Holo-theater was used for factual reinforcement of a subject. Marcus had decided it best to give the class something more than Ian to scoff at.
"We covered this in our History class," Jack said boredly. Marcus frowned imperceptibly.
"True Mister Roykirk. But the things that I am going to tell you, they don't teach in there. Namely, who is or was involved with the Innova, and why." Jack slouched further in his chair, seriously doubting that Marcus had anything useful, interesting or even factual to offer. Marcus took the gesture as a personal challenge.
"Then what are we covering exactly?" Ian asked, very interested himself. He'd been looking for any and all information that he could find on the Dreads and where they came from. Ever since the elder Drandis had given him a clue to his family's ancient history and connection to the Paladins, he'd been absorbing every piece of knowledge he could lay his hands on. And yet, his knowledge was sorely lacking.
"Mostly recent Dread Paladin History," Marcus replied. "What I think you guys need and don't have is a solid backing in who these people are and why we struggle against them.
I've had you guys running around in simulators and fighting holograms. I realized that I hadn’t given you the sense of who the enemy really is and what they're capable of. And if you don't have a good grasp of your enemy, then you don't know enough to believe that what you do is right." Marcus touched a small console on the wall, and the room darkened, leaving only a cone of light in the middle of the stage.
"Ooooooohhhh!" Jack said in the darkness, trying to sound spooky.
"Knock it off Jack," Uther said, more sharply than Marcus had heard before. His voice had dropped at least two octaves.
"What are you, five?" Mary asked from the other side. Marcus shushed the crowd before an argument could ensue. The computer toned for a moment before the first image resolved into view.
"This is a Dread Paladin," Marcus said simply. "Or at least, a reasonable holo-image of one." What appeared was the basic grunt. The hologram spun slowly to give an all-around view, and Marcus felt a chill go through him. The hologram was a little too accurate for his tastes.
"Creepy," Mary said under her breath.
"Looks a little stiff to me," Jack murmured.
“You haven't met one Jack,” Ian said in response. “They’re a great deal more dangerous in person.” Jack made a sour face.
“They don’t look so tough,” he returned. Ian grunted.
“Neither do you, Mister Roykirk,” Rebekah said from the back.
“She’s not allowed to say that, is she?” Jack asked, offended. Marcus ignored him.
"In full plate mail and wielding any number and type of weapons,” Marcus continued, “or even none at all, a fully trained Innovan can be very dangerous." Marcus let the air hang still for a moment. He hoped Jack wouldn't take this as the time to throw in a joke. Marcus took a glance to the back of the room, and saw Ellis doing his best not to pay any attention. But his eyes remained fixed on the hologram.
"What most people will not tell you is that for most grunts in the Dread paladin order, they have no freedom of choice. The right to choose is something that is divinely given, and they have given it away. Some for the promises of power, or wealth or fame. If you guys want a first-person perspective on the matter, you can ask Ian. He knows better than even I do." Though Marcus didn't see it, he could hear all the heads in the room turning toward his pupil. It allowed him a moment to smile.
"Thanks," Ian said drily in the darkness.
"I agree with Jack. They do not look very strong," Uther said, a slight lilt to his voice. Marcus attributed that sound to the cat-like makeup of his genetics. He would always sound that way.
"Seeing is not always believing, as they say. Even the smallest of us has great power you know." Marcus didn't want to go and lay it on too thick for this group. He wanted to ease them into the knowledge he was offering.
"Yeah, even you Uther," Jack said, a self-pleased humor in his tone. Marcus was not amused, and he let him know it.
"That's enough of that Jack." Jack grew silent. "Uther might well be more powerful than even you believe yourself to be." Jack's face soured further.
"Well, some of us are just lucky that way. He gets to know his future in advance." If Marcus didn't know better, he'd have sworn Jack had said it to Ellis. Ellis, of course, was sitting with his arms folded, trying to look like he wasn't listening. Still, he stared dead at the hologram. Almost as though it had him entranced. Ellis’s face was hard, but his eyes looked nervous.
"Is that anyone in particular?" Mary asked, trying to get the lesson back on track. Marcus was happy to answer.
"Not really. Most Dreads will look like this. There are variations in armor design, symbol iconography and personal preferences in weapons and other things. But in general, this is a Dread." Jack had a question almost immediately.
“What about girls? Are their female Dreads?” Mary rolled her eyes
“What Jack? Is Sydney not giving you enough attention?” Jack shrugged.
“What? It’s a valid question. Are there any girl dreads?” A small touch of his finger to the control pad dissolved the image, and gave way to a new one.
“Funny you should ask.” The image to resolved before them was smaller, but no less dangerous looking. “This is, generally, what a dread paladin female will look like.” Marcus heard a chuckle from the crowd. That had to be Jack. “Something funny Mister Roykirk?” Jack shifted slightly.
“How do they see? That helmet has no eye holes.” Marcus glanced at the image. Jack was right. The helmet was entirely opaque. It stretched all the way down the Innovan’s face to just above her lips.
“Miss Norik?” Marcus said easily. “Maybe you could shed some light on that question.” Rebekah shifted a little. She wasn’t used to engaging in class.
“Part of the doctrines of the Innova is the idea that females have a clearer sight within themselves. The Dread females are students of a form of fighting that they call Roka’Nosha. It translates to ‘Path of the Inner Sight.’ They believe that one sees clearest without their eyes.” Jack snorted.
“I can beat anyone if they can’t see.” Marcus shook his head.
“We can test that theory later if you like. Roka’Nosha is one of Rebekah’s mastered forms.” Mary cut in.
“So, Rebekah can fight with her eyes closed?” Marcus nodded evenly. “I wouldn’t think that was even possible.” Rebekah was glad the lights were low. No one could see the redness in her cheeks.
“It’s not easy, I’ll say that,” Rebekah said.
“The Highmaster taught you that at fifth level, correct?” Marcus asked. Rebekah held up four fingers. “Fourth level. My mistake.”
“I think we can warm up the Holodrome simulator and give Mister Roykirk a proper demonstration,” Rebekah said smartly. Jack looked back at Rebekah, who was crossing her arms casually. His shoulders sank just a bit.
“I think I’ll take a raincheck. Thanks,” he droned. Marcus decided it was time to move on, depressing a button and changing the image again. This one was a little closer to home.
"Who is that?" Uther asked, only a slight wavering in his tone. Marcus could see why just by the image before him. Marcus felt a wave of revulsion pass through him. This was not a subject he was all that excited about. But he figured they needed to know. Something said he needed to cover it.
"Noganus Xandra was the High Prelate of the Dread Paladin Order until a little over a year ago." Marcus was leery of continuing, but he had decided on this course, and he would follow it. The hologram was accurate in a way that was almost frightening.
"What happened to him?" Mary asked.
"He retired and opened up a hot dog stand," was Jack's snide reply. Marcus repressed the urge to clear his lungs at that. If only that had been true.
"Noganus used to be a Paladin. He actually trained Sovereign Raven. His name was Nelson Artorius, until an incident destroyed his faith." Marcus referred to the son that he was forced to watch die. Not that he was going to come out and tell them that. Some things were better left for personal study.
"He stopped believing?" Uther asked quietly. Marcus nodded.
"Noganus went through an ordeal so horrific, it broke his spirit. And in the end, Noganus made a choice, let go of his Paladin oaths and chose instead a path of darkness, insanity, and eventual death." Marcus was purposely leaving out all the details of what had happened in Horthok. He wasn't about to go telling them every secret he had in his life. Rather, he wished he could erase it from his own memory.
"You killed him," a resolutely defiant voice from the back of the room blared suddenly. Marcus looked up and saw Ellis beaming a hateful glare at him. He wasn't sure how he should take that. He wasn't even sure why Ellis thought such a thing.
"Something to say, Mister Burke?" Marcus asked, trying to sound casual. Ellis shook his head.
"Nothing you'd care to hear." Marcus shrugged at that.
"I don't care to hear most things people say," Marcus retorted. "Thrill me." Ellis sat for a long moment, mulling over what he would say. The rest of th
e class had turned to face him. Ellis gave his teacher a grim glare and then opened his mouth.
"I've heard things about your mission to Meridian City. How you disobeyed council commands. How you commandeered the Meridian City Special Crimes Task Force. How you left your fiancé at the altar and almost got your two friends here killed." Marcus felt his throat tightening as Ellis spoke. The class was trying their best to take it all in. Marcus tried not to react. "And how you murdered an alleged Dread Paladin without giving him a proper chance at rehabilitation. So, tell me, Mister Kasidyne. Did you enjoy killing him? Do you like killing men based on your blind obedience? Or was it out of pride, you vain little man?" Ellis stood before Marcus could even conceive an answer and stormed out. The room was silent for a very long moment. Rebekah shrugged at Marcus from the back of the room. Ian had a concerned look on his face.
"Did you?" Mary asked after a moment, breaking the silence. Marcus looked around. He hadn't expected anyone to say anything. Mary had a stricken face, as though it couldn't possibly be true.
"No Miss Wyllder. No, I didn't." Marcus let that sit on the air. He didn't think it was anyone's business right now. And no one else in the class would argue the point with him.
"Okay, just what was that back there?" Marcus asked after sending the rest of the class out for the afternoon. They weren't happy about what had happened, and were going to find out where Ellis had stormed off to. Marcus sat on the small step in front of the holo-projector, trying to reason out what had just transpired.
"I think Ellis has it in for you personally," Ian offered. He hadn't moved from his seat. Something in him said he shouldn't make a move toward or away from his mentor right this second.
"You think?" Marcus said sarcastically. Rebekah stood against the wall as she had during class, shaking her head in what Marcus could only call disbelief.
"Yeah, but why?" Rebekah asked. Marcus ran his hands over his face, hoping the motion would clear his mind. The entire thing was confusing.
The Paladin Archives Book Two The Withering Falseblade Page 7
