The Last Guardian (Royal Institute of Magic, Book 5)

by Victor Kloss

  “So, what do you suggest, then?” Ben asked with irritation.

  Charlie shrugged. “I think your idea is a good one. Ask Dagmar. If she can't help, I think it's important enough to take all the way to Wren.”

  Ben went to Dagmar straight after muster, ignoring Aaron's orders for more cleaning. Despite everything, Aaron still tried to fit in at least thirty minutes most mornings and hadn't stopped giving them the worst jobs on offer.

  “By yourself, this time?” Dagmar said as Ben entered. As usual, she was sitting at her desk, writing away at the sort of dazzling speed necessitated by the amount of paperwork on her table.

  “Yeah. It doesn't really involve Charlie or Natalie,” Ben said. “It does involve you, though, and all the other Guardians.”

  Dagmar put down the pen, and gave Ben her undivided attention, a rarity that Ben was keen to make use of. He didn't waste time, and recalled the events of last night's “dream”. Dagmar didn't interrupt him, but Ben could see a rare look of concern on her face once he'd finished. Her brow was furrowed, not enough for a normal person to look concerned, but, with Dagmar, such subtleties spoke volumes.

  “He pulled you into the draymas,” Dagmar said.

  “The what?”

  “Draymas. It is a semi-dream world that sits between the real world, the dream world, and some other undefined mystical world that few people know of. Within the draymas, certain rules of the other worlds apply. For example, pain is real, and you can think and use your mind – traits of the real world. At the same time, the world can twist and change without your intention – traits of the dream world. And then there is magic, which works much like it does in the void – traits of the other, mystical world.”

  “Magic works like it does in the void?” Ben asked, his face lighting up.

  “Yes, but don't for a moment think that's easy,” Dagmar said. “Magic in the void is a very difficult thing.”

  Of course, Dagmar didn't know about their trip to the void, and the time and energy they put into learning its rules. He was careful to conceal his delight at the news.

  “So, what can I do?” Ben said.

  “The easiest solution is to not get sucked in,” Dagmar said. “Do you dream a lot?”

  “Yes,” Ben admitted. “Almost every night.”

  “That's the first thing we need to work on,” Dagmar said. “It is far easier for Ictid to drag you into the draymas from the dream world. I will give you some techniques to work on, and a tonic to help you sleep without dreams.”

  “Okay, but what if that doesn't work and I get pulled in? I don't have much time to learn anything, as I plan on going to sleep tonight.”

  “There is a way to get out,” Dagmar said. “It requires practice, patience, and focus. You have to concentrate on where you fell asleep, and will yourself back there. You must use each of your senses, until you feel like you are there again. Only then will you return.”

  “Great,” Ben said. “And what if, while I'm doing that, Prince Ictid is busy trying to kill me? That's going to be a bit off-putting.”

  “You cannot die in the draymas,” Dagmar said. “But he can make you experience a world of pain.”

  Ben ran a hand through his hair, which suddenly felt a little damp. “I have to admit, I'm not looking forward to going to bed as much as I normally do.”

  Ben hadn't thought that much could take his attention off the hunt for the sword, especially with the constant jabbing from Joshua, but he was wrong. It wasn't just the potential meeting with Prince Ictid, but also the talk from the apprentices, and even the members, of people at home suddenly falling unconscious. Several friends of Ben's had their own family members fall victim to the phenomenon, and there was a glum, dispiriting feel at muster that afternoon.

  Only Dagmar remained unaffected – though Ben suspected she wouldn't bat an eye if the entire dark elf army landed on their doorstep.

  “The Institute have their best Scholars working on a cure with some of the finest magic users in the Unseen Kingdoms,” Dagmar said. “They are already working on prototype bullets for the spellshooter, and are confident that within forty-eight hours they'll have something. So, my advice to you is to stop worrying and get on with your studies. Dismissed.”

  Ben didn't even bother telling the other Guardians about Prince Ictid's proposition. He could see Joshua possibly giving it some thought, but even he wouldn't seriously consider it. Joshua might be a pain, but he was on the side for good as much as any of them.

  “Why don't you brush up on your void knowledge?” Charlie suggested. The two of them were in the library, studying historic battles against the dark elves. Charlie was eating through the pages, but Ben had read the same page three times, and still couldn't remember what it said.

  “Yeah, that's not a bad idea,” Ben said.

  Charlie bounded off and returned a few minutes later with a couple of small black books.

  “Get through those bad boys and you'll have a much better chance against Ictid tonight,” Charlie said.

  Ben spent the rest of the afternoon devouring the books while Charlie went off to help Joshua continue their research for the families that could get them into Vanishing Street.

  By the time evening came, Ben felt a little more confident about meeting the prince.

  “Remember, he can't kill you,” Charlie said, as the two of them left the Institute and headed to the Dragonway, back home.

  “But he can cause me a world of pain,” Ben said.

  “What's pain compared to death?” Charlie said with a cheerful smile.

  “What's pain?” Ben raised an arm. “Do you want me to show you? It's really not that enjoyable.”

  “Point made,” Charlie said hastily.

  It took a lot to make Ben anxious, but that evening before bed, Ben found his body constantly shaking, and his breath slightly laboured. Several times his grandma tried talking to him about a new person she knew who had conked out, but it just went in one ear and out the other.

  The last thing Ben felt like doing was going to bed early, but at the same time he was eager to get the meeting with Prince Ictid out the way. The best way to confront a problem was always to attack it, not drag it out. It was for that reason that Ben didn't even bother trying to avoid the draymas. The meeting was inevitable, whether it happened tonight or in a week's time. There was no point drawing it out.

  Ben was in bed by 8pm. But forcing himself to get to sleep proved harder than he anticipated. Every time he felt himself drifting off, he would have a surge of adrenaline, and have to start the cycle again. It wasn't until ten o'clock that he finally drifted off.

  — Chapter Seventeen —

  The Meaning of Pain

  The room was identical to the one he'd arrived in last night, with its impossibly high ceiling, pristine marble floor and mighty columns. Ben still couldn't tell what the place reminded him of, but it would come.

  “Welcome back,” a powerful, familiar voice said

  Prince Ictid stepped out from the columns. He looked identical to yesterday, though Ben thought his purple eyes looked a little brighter.

  “I liked it so much here I couldn't stay away,” Ben said.

  Unlike last time, where fear of the unknown had taken hold, Ben was now prepared, and stepped forwards to meet Prince Ictid's slow advance. He was determined not to stop until Ictid did. No more than twenty feet separated them by the time they came to a halt. Very little time to stop a magic bolt, Ben thought.

  “Have you thought about the proposal?” Ictid said.

  “I have,” Ben said. “This might sound hard to believe, but we have declined your generous offer. We're going to fight.”

  If Ben expected surprise or disappointment, he didn't get it. Indeed, the only acknowledgement he got was a knowing nod from the prince.

  “I did not think you would accept,” the prince said. “The idea was my father's. He has this notion that you are survivors, willing to do any
thing to prolong yourselves and your species. The idea of honour, of fighting for your race and sacrificing yourselves, is alien to him. I have to say, I don't understand it either, but I recognise its existence in you humans.”

  Prince Ictid stopped talking, and Ben saw his fists start to glow purple. His eyes, likewise, started glowing.

  “I'm afraid this is the end of the line for you, Mr. Greenwood,” Ictid said. “Just remember, you brought this upon yourself.”

  Ben knew in that fleeting moment that he could have tried returning home – a place without pain, a place of safety, where he didn't have to fight one of the most powerful enemies that existed. But he turned the chance down. He hated running. If this confrontation didn't happen now, it would happen tomorrow. If not tomorrow, then the next day.

  Ben focused, pulling everything he remembered from the void, on top of everything he had spent reading. This wasn't the real world – physics didn't apply. Your mind was in charge, limited only by what you had the confidence to envisage and conceive.

  Prince Ictid raised both his hands, and a pair of purple fireballs seared towards him.

  >Ben flicked a hand, and both fireballs veered away, smashing into the walls.

  The surprise on Prince Ictid's face was a joy to behold. His eyes widened, and the glow in his purple eyes seemed to dull for a second. But the surprise lasted only a moment, and was replaced with a thin smile.

  “I will admit, I was not expecting that,” Prince Ictid said with a small, but respectful nod. “Where did you—?”

  Prince Ictid was still blabbering on when Ben launched his counter attack, throwing an ice-made disc with serrated edges right into Ictid's chest. It sunk deep, and the prince cried out. He yanked the disc clear, and threw it aside, his chest healing almost instantaneously.

  Most enemies, even the most powerful ones, would have let their anger take over, giving Ben one or possibly even two more chances at a surprise attack. But Prince Ictid was not your ordinary enemy. He rubbed his chest, dusted himself off, and even managed a smile.

  “Clever and cunning,” Prince Ictid said. “I respect that. But the time for games is now over.”

  A sword materialised in the prince's hand, and he stepped forwards. Ben wanted to keep some distance, but the prince was too quick. He visualised his own sword just in time to block the first attack. Ben would have been cut to shreds within the first thirty seconds had it not been for the lessons with Volvek. As it was, he was immediately on the back foot, blocking and dodging at a furious pace. The prince's sword was a purple blur, and Ben could barely keep up. He received a nick to the shoulder, and another on the side of his ribs. The pain was excruciating, but with supreme effort, he refused to accept the sensation, and it dulled immediately.

  Ben knew unless he did something audacious he was going to be overrun in a matter of moments. Fuelled by the knowledge that he couldn't die, only suffer a world of pain, Ben ducked under a slice, losing a few hairs in the process, and launched a blistering counter attack. He threw absolutely everything he had into it, his own swordsmanship enhanced by his knowledge and skill in the void.

  There was a flicker – just a flicker – of alarm from Prince Ictid, as he back-pedalled for a couple of steps. But to Ben's horror, the prince had another gear, and he used it. Before Ben was even aware what was going on, Prince Ictid spun and something struck him in the stomach, throwing him into the air. He landed hard on his back. To his relief, Prince Ictid hadn't followed up, but remained standing some twenty feet back. He looked almost as fresh as when the battle started.

  “Rest a little,” the prince said, when Ben tried to rise. “I want to draw this out. It's no good if you go unconscious on me within minutes.”

  Ben focused on his stomach, and tried to eliminate the wound. The blood stopped flowing, but it still stung like hell. He managed to squirm his back up against the wall, and tried to calm his ragged breathing, while he gathered what energy he had left. It's just the void, he told himself. Take all the energy you want. But it was difficult when your body was screaming at you, telling you it was done for.

  Still Prince Ictid did not advance. True to his word, he appeared in no hurry.

  “I have to confess, I'm a bit of an expert when it comes to pain. I enjoy inflicting it and watching the reaction. It's quite a marvellous thing, observing the way different people respond. You, I suspect, will be a particularly interesting case. You are strong, determined and, as a Guardian and protector of Elizabeth's Armour, I am very keen to see what happens when you reach your threshold.”

  Prince Ictid idly inspected his sword as he spoke, giving it a completely unnecessary clean with a pristine white napkin he had summoned.

  “I'm sorry, I'm rattling on. Were you not so exhausted, you probably could have surprised me with another one of your clever attacks. Are you ready or would you like a few more minutes?”

  “A few more hours would be good,” Ben said. With supreme effort, he used the wall to drag himself upright.

  “We have hours, but not to be idle,” the prince said with a smile. “Now, let's get on with it, shall we?”

  The prince was in no hurry, and stepped forwards at a leisurely pace. Ben was exhausted and hurting in more areas than he could count. He could barely lift his sword, let alone fight. He thought about his room at home, but knew he'd never be able to focus properly on that while he was getting sliced to pieces.

  Fear flowed through his body, providing him with a fillip of adrenaline. He raised his sword, in an effort to delay the explosion of pain that was about to come.

  A sheet of white energy materialised from nowhere, forming a barrier between the advancing prince and Ben. Ictid's sword sliced into the barrier, and rebounded harmlessly away, just inches from Ben's face.

  The prince stepped back, staring at the barrier with undisguised shock.

  “How did you do that?” Ictid asked, tapping the barrier with his sword.

  “He didn't. I did,” a soft, almost child-like voice said.

  Abigail materialised next to Ben and gave him a smile. She wore nothing but a dressing gown, but it was her head that caught Ben's eye. She was wearing Elizabeth's Helm.

  “Hi, Ben,” she said, giving him another smile, her soft eyes sparkling through the helm.

  Ben reached out, tentatively touching the helm. “Is that the real thing?”

  “Yeah, it is,” Abigail said, looking rather proud of herself.

  “I know you,” Prince Ictid said, staring keenly at Abigail. “Or rather my father does. You have been most troublesome lately.”

  “Thank you,” Abigail said, her eyes sparkling with pride. “It's taken a lot of hard work, but I think I'm almost ready.”

  Prince Ictid gave an almost amused smile. “We'll see.”

  Ben hadn't quite come to terms with the fact that he hadn't been diced into little pieces, but his body relished in the lack of pain he was still experiencing.

  “So, what happens now?” Ben asked.

  “Now, we shall ask Prince Ictid to no longer bother you,” Abigail said, staring pointedly at the prince.

  “You think you can stop me?” the prince asked.

  “I know I can,” Abigail said, nodding. “Watch.”

  She did nothing that Ben could see, simply staring at the prince, and perhaps focusing a little.

  The prince disappeared in a flash.

  Ben stared in disbelief, and then turned to Abigail who was grinning from ear to ear.

  “I did it! Dagmar's going to be so impressed.”

  “Forget Dagmar, my mind has just been blown. How did you do that?” Ben asked. “That wasn't any old dark elf – that was Prince Ictid, one of the most powerful elves that exists.”

  “In the real world, yes,” Abigail said. “But not in here. In fact, in here I am the only one with real power, and that is because of Elizabeth's Helm. Everything else is just imagination. That is how I was able to trump him. He won't be coming back here, because he knows I'll be waiting fo
r him, and I can cause him pain.”

  Ben stared at Abigail as if he was seeing her for the very first time. The sweet, innocent girl still remained, but the steel and determination Ben had guessed at when he first saw her were now shining through, and it was an incredible sight to behold.

  “You've made a lot of progress,” Ben said.

  “I couldn't have done it without Dagmar,” Abigail said. “However, I'm still not ready.”

  “Ready for what?”

  “To confront Suktar's mind,” Abigail said with a remarkably straight face.

  “Do you think you'll need to do that?”

  “I hope not, but I need to be prepared,” Abigail said. She smiled again, the momentary gravity on her face disappearing. “Anyway, don't worry about me. You have to find your sword and start learning too. I know you'll be faster than me, but it's still a lot of work.”

  “I'll be ready,” Ben said.

  “I know you will,” Abigail said. “Now, do you want to go home? I'm kind of tired myself, and the body doesn't sleep so well when in the draymas. Do you remember what to do to get back?”

  “Yeah, I think so,” Ben said.

  Ben closed his eyes, and immediately thought of his bedroom. Without the threat of Prince Ictid, the imagery came easily. He visualised his bed, the computer desk, and the slightly dirty carpet. He smelled the pizza that hadn't fully cleared from the night everyone came over, and he listened to the soft flapping of the curtains created by the open window.

  Ben felt a strange, not unpleasant shift, and he felt himself move in some transcendent, almost spiritual way. Suddenly, he was aware that he was no longer standing, but lying down.

  He opened his eyes.

  Ben was lying in bed, back home.

  — Chapter Eighteen —

  The Kingdom of Casteria

  He calls himself Baron Vongrath,” Charlie said with a perfectly straight face. “And he's our man.”

  Ben, Charlie, Natalie and Joshua were sitting in the secure conference room the morning following Ben's exertions with Prince Ictid. It was a Saturday, but the Institute had been on a seven-day-a-week schedule since the escalation of the dark elf threat, and apprentices were encouraged to do the same.