by Clayton Wood
“Uh huh.”
“Talk to Grand Runic Erasmus later today,” Master Owens urged, patting Kyle on the knee. “I think he'll be able to ease your mind about all of this.”
With that, Master Owens stood up, turning to give Kyle one last smile, then walking away. Kyle sat there on the couch, staring at the floor in front of him. Not cut out to be a Weaver! He suddenly wanted to cry. On Earth, he'd never been particularly good at anything. An average student, and the second-shortest kid in his grade, he'd hardly stood out. Then he'd come here, and learned that he had enormous magical potential – even greater than that of the mighty Kalibar, at least when he'd been a kid – and now, after weeks of dreaming of becoming an all-powerful Weaver blasting his way through his enemies with unfettered ease...
Kyle sighed. He should've known that it was too good to be true. He'd failed...and now he was being shipped off to tinkering school. He would never have a chance to be a hero like Kalibar.
“Hey,” a voice called out. Kyle snapped out of his morbid thoughts, watching as Ariana sat down next to him, her slender frame sinking into the plush white fabric of the couch. She was scowling, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Hey,” Kyle mumbled back. Then he sighed. “I'm sorry for...”
“Forget about it,” Ariana interjected, shaking her head. “It's not your fault. I'm just frustrated, that's all.”
Kyle couldn't help but smile. Ariana talked – and acted – like a grown-up, even though she was only a year or so older than Kyle. She was quick to forgive and forget, much like himself. As such, they didn't argue much...and when they did, they didn't fight for long.
“What's wrong?” Kyle asked. Ariana's scowl softened, then disappeared.
“Master Owens told me,” she confessed.
“Oh,” Kyle mumbled, his cheeks flushing. He felt Ariana's warm hand on his shoulder.
“I told him he was wrong, you know,” she added. “You're really good at magic, Kyle...really good. You're just...” She trailed off then, grimacing slightly. Kyle frowned.
“Just what?”
“Well, you're unsure of yourself,” Ariana answered. Kyle immediately felt the heat return to his cheeks, and he turned away abruptly. Ariana was right, and he knew it.
“Master Owens says I can't think on my feet,” Kyle blurted out. “I'm slow,” he added bitterly.
“Only with some things,” Ariana replied with a twinkle in her eyes, shoving Kyle's shoulder playfully. Kyle blinked, wondering what the heck that meant. “Besides,” she added, “...the Dead Man thought you'd make a great Weaver...and he was a teacher for a lot longer than Master Owens.”
Kyle had to smile at that. It was true, after all; the Dead Man, for all of his extraordinary faults, had been the most skilled teacher he'd ever learned from. And at the same time, the most unpleasant. But Ariana's point held; the Dead Man had seen something in him that maybe, just maybe, Master Owens had missed.
But the Dead Man, of course, was dead.
“It doesn't matter,” he replied dejectedly. “Master Owens says I'm better off being a Runic, so that's what I'm going to be.” Ariana grinned wickedly.
“A lowly tinkerer,” she mocked, parroting the typical insults Weaver students lobbed at their Runic counterparts. “Staying at home with the women while the men go off to war!” Kyle scowled.
“You mean while you go off to war,” he grumbled. Ariana laughed.
“You know, staying home with the women doesn't have to be so bad,” she teased. “You might even like it!”
“Whatever,” Kyle shot back. But his cheeks flushed yet again, making Ariana laugh even harder. Oh, how he hated his body!
“I'm just kidding Kyle,” Ariana said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You know I'd take you with me,” she added, a smile playing at her lips.
“Oh yeah?” he replied warily. Ariana nodded, trying desperately to keep a straight face – and failing.
“I'll need someone to fix my stuff if it gets broken,” she blurted out, then burst out into laughter again.
“Oh, go drown yourself,” Kyle grumbled back. Ariana kept laughing, her face turning pink, tears rolling down her eyes. At length she stopped, rubbing her moist cheeks with the back of her hand.
“Oh come on,” she said. “You know, I think being a Runic could be really cool,” she added. Kyle scowled. “No, I'm serious,” she insisted. “You'll get to create anything your mind can come up with...anything at all. Think about how amazing that could be! Maybe you'll make those flying machines you were telling me about.” Kyle had told Ariana about airplanes yesterday, when she'd asked, as she did every night, about Earth. She never tired of the stories he told about his home world, of guns and computers, of television and cars. It was all as magical to her as...well, as magic was to him.
“Thanks,” Kyle mumbled, “...but I never really saw myself sitting in some room, spending all day carving runes and charging gems.”
“Just give it a chance,” Ariana urged. “For me,” she added sweetly. Kyle glanced up at Ariana, at her big brown eyes, strands of brown hair having fallen fetchingly over her face. He felt his anger and shame melt away...as it always did when he was around her. Ariana made everything better, just by existing; she had a special magic all her own.
“Okay,” he agreed. He gave a grudging smile. “Thanks,” he added. Ariana smiled back, standing up from the couch suddenly.
“Anytime,” she replied. “I have to go again,” she added, “...but I'll be back later.”
“Where are you going?”
“Master Owens wanted to finish teaching me those patterns you already memorized,” she answered with a wink. “Don't worry,” she added, “I'll catch up to you eventually!” With that, she bolted, running across the lobby toward the double-doors in the distance. Kyle smiled again, shaking his head. Then he felt a pang of guilt. While he had been bad-mouthing Ariana's skills to Master Owens, she had done nothing but support him. What a terrible friend he was! He grit his teeth, vowing to do better by her in the future.
Suddenly a horrendously loud screeching sound echoed throughout the lobby. Kyle heard shouting, and spotted a group of black-armored guards running into the Tower through the lobby's double-doors. The men rushed past Kyle, vanishing down one of the hallways beyond the lobby. Kyle stood up, noticing that everyone else in the lobby was doing the same, staring nervously down the hallway the guards had sprinted down. Kyle heard footsteps behind him, and felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. He turned about, seeing a man in black armor – a member of the elite guard – standing behind him. The guard pulled him close, the runes on the man's armor flashing blue. Two more elite guards flanked Kyle, their armor activating similarly.
“What's going on?” Kyle asked, his voice rising with alarm.
“There's been an assassination attempt,” one of the guards answered tersely. Kyle frowned.
“On who?” he pressed, fighting back a sudden wave of panic.
“Grand Weaver Kalibar,” the guard replied.
Chapter 2
The screeching alarm continued to sound throughout the Tower, so loud that Kyle had to cover his ears with his hands. It was an all-too-familiar sound...he'd heard it when Rivin and Bartholos were murdered over a week ago.
Kalibar!
Kyle had tried unsuccessfully to bolt from the guards surrounding him, wanting nothing more than to run all the way up to Kalibar's suite. He'd asked his guards whether or not Kalibar had been killed, but no one knew the answer. The Grand Weaver had powerful wards to protect him, but with a being as powerful as Xanos...
Kyle stood there helplessly, his heart thumping in his chest. He squirmed under the elite guard's grasp, fearing the worst.
“Kyle!”
Kyle turned to find Ariana running up behind him, a duo of elite guards sprinting after her. She stopped beside him.
“What's going on?” she asked.
“Someone tried to kill Kalibar,” he answered, his voice trembling. Ariana's eyes
widened, and her hand went to her mouth.
“Is he okay?” she pressed. Kyle said nothing, afraid his voice might crack. Ariana shook Kyle's shoulders. “Come on!” she urged, pulling him toward one of the hallways beyond the lobby. One of the elite guards put a hand out, blocking their path.
“You have to stay here,” the man declared. “We're still sweeping the Tower for enemies.”
“Kyle's ring is the only thing that can save Kalibar,” she retorted, pointing to the ring on Kyle's thumb. Kyle frowned; everyone thought that his ring was an enormously powerful runic, a magical device that protected him from any source of harm...and killed anyone who tried to hurt him. In reality, it had been Ampir himself who had protected Kyle; the ring was just a glorified transmitter. No one else knew that Ampir was still alive...and that's apparently how the man wanted it to stay.
“I don't know,” he mumbled. But Ariana would not be denied.
“Remember Darius?” she retorted. Kyle saw the guards waver at that. Darius had been mortally wounded by Xanos, a sword driven through his chest...until he'd been saved by Kyle's ring. Or rather, by Ampir. The guards knew about that, too...and they were likely thinking that if Kalibar had been mortally wounded, then perhaps Kyle's ring could bring him back.
“All right,” the guard grumbled. The guards led the way, striding quickly down one of the hallways off of the main lobby. Kyle and Ariana followed, making their way down the wide corridor, which ended with a large, circular platform – the riser. Within seconds of standing on it, the riser began to ascend, catapulting them straight upward with gut-twisting speed. There were no elevator doors to block the view as they sped forty-two floors upward; luckily, gravity fields prevented anyone from stepping off of the platform while it was moving.
The riser came to a halt, the guards leading Kyle and Ariana down a narrow hallway toward Kalibar's chambers. Kalibar spent most of his time there, for two reasons. One, it was the most secure room in the Tower – and perhaps in the Empire. Two, he still had a hard time getting around with his blindness. Without his sight, he was not the warrior he'd once been. If the assassin had somehow managed to get past Kalibar's wards...
They halted at Kalibar's door, and one of the guards pounded on it. Within seconds, the door began transparent, another elite guard peering at them from the other side.
“We have Kyle,” the first guard stated, stepping aside so that Kyle was visible. “And his ring,” he added. The other guard glanced at Kyle, then turned about, the door becoming opaque once again. A few moments later, the door swung inward, revealing the guard standing beyond.
“Come in,” he said, ushering Kyle through. Ariana pushed past as well. Their guards, however, were blocked from coming in, the magical door swinging shut as soon as Ariana had passed.
“Where's Kalibar?” Ariana asked, rushing into the massive suite. Massive glass walls towered over their heads, tapering to a pyramid-shaped peak far above their heads. A dozen black-armored elite guards stood in several clusters around the room. A short, balding man with an impressive white beard draped over his equally impressive belly stood in the center of the room, conversing with one of the guards. The man turned his blue eyes toward Kyle and Ariana as they entered, his bushy eyebrows rising slightly.
“Erasmus!” Kyle exclaimed. The old man nodded grimly, stepping away from the guard he'd been talking to and walking up to Kyle and Ariana. “Is Kalibar...?”
“He's fine, thank goodness,” Erasmus replied, his voice clearly shaken. “He's in the bedroom with Darius, examining the body,” he added. Kyle frowned.
“Wait, what body?” he asked.
“The assassin's body,” Erasmus answered. “Somehow the fool managed to get past my wards, although how, I have no idea. We found his body a few feet from Kalibar's bed.”
“Is Kalibar hurt?” Kyle pressed. Erasmus shook his head, putting an arm around Kyle's shoulders.
“Not a scratch on him,” Erasmus answered. “Can't say the same for the bastard on the floor, though. Seems he lost his head.”
Suddenly the door to Kalibar's bedroom opened, a tall, fit-looking man in a plain black shirt and pants striding through. With his characteristic white military-short hair and neatly trimmed goatee, it was no mistaking who stood before them – even with the golden double-eyepatches covering his empty eye sockets.
“Kalibar!” Kyle cried, rushing forward. Kalibar hesitated, then smiled broadly, extending his arms to the sides. Kyle leaped into the old man's arms, burying his head into Kalibar's shoulder. A normal man – especially a blind one – would have been knocked clean off his feet, but Kalibar didn't even budge. The man was a master-level Weaver, perhaps the most skilled practitioner of magic in the Empire. Kalibar held Kyle for a moment, then gently pushed him away.
“Where is Ariana?” he asked. Ariana stepped forward, and before she could say anything, Kalibar inclined his head toward her, no doubt sensing the magic inside of her. Ever since Kalibar had lost his vision, his sense of magic had become more powerful; he had admitted to Kyle that he could feel the unique magical “signature” that each person radiated, allowing him to know exactly who was nearby...if they were close enough.
“I'm here,” Ariana replied, stepping in to give Kalibar a hug. “What happened?” she asked. Kalibar sighed.
“We're still trying to figure that out,” he admitted. “We know that an assassin – dressed in a guard's uniform – managed to get into my room. I nearly killed myself falling over his body when I got up this morning,” he added with a wry grin. Erasmus snorted.
“That would've been a trip,” the portly Grand Runic quipped, his blue eyes twinkling. “Killed by a decapitated assassin...imagine the obituary!”
“That's another mystery,” Kalibar stated. “First he managed to get inside my room without triggering any of my wards, and then he was killed before he ever reached me...but again, not by any of my wards. It doesn't make any sense.”
“Damn right it doesn't,” Erasmus grumbled. “Nothing could've gotten past those wards without tripping them. Hell, a gnat couldn't have made it into your room,” he added, clearly frustrated. And for good reason; most of the wards protecting Kalibar had been designed by Erasmus himself, a Runic of formidable talent. The Grand Runic was obviously unsettled by the idea that his handiwork had proven inadequate to the task.
“It's not your fault, old friend,” Kalibar stated, putting a hand out toward Erasmus. Kalibar's enhanced magical senses weren't perfect – Erasmus was too far away to touch – but Erasmus stepped forward so that Kalibar's hand landed on his shoulder.
“Bullshit,” Erasmus retorted. “It's all my fault, and you know it!” Kalibar smirked at that.
“Fine, it's all your fault, you old hack,” the Grand Weaver replied. “I was just trying to make you feel better. You're fired, by the way,” he added. Erasmus snorted.
“Oh, go walk out a window,” he shot back, swatting Kalibar's hand from his shoulder. “This from a guy who nearly broke a hip tripping over a dead man!” But he couldn't help chuckling, and soon the two were laughing merrily – to the supreme discomfort of the guards around them. After all, the two were the most powerful and respected men in the Empire; hearing them gleefully insult each other had to be quite jarring for those that weren't used to it. Kyle grinned; he'd grown to love the two men dearly, though he'd known both for less than a month.
“Hey, where's Darius?” Kyle asked. He'd assumed that Kalibar's personal bodyguard would've been here by now. Erasmus nodded toward Kalibar's bedroom door.
“He's inside, inspecting the body,” the Grand Runic replied jovially. “Cheery bastard, isn't he?” he added with a wink. Kyle smirked; Darius was many things, but cheery wasn't one of them. Rude, callous, abrupt, and insulting, sure, but never cheery. Erasmus had grown quite fond of needling the bodyguard every chance he got...and Darius, never being one to respect rank or privilege, gave as good as he got, much to the horror of the other guards.
“Can we see?” Ari
ana pressed. Even though they were still technically children, Kyle and Ariana had already seen their fair share of corpses, and unlike on Earth, exposure to the unfortunate realities of life at a young age was heartily encouraged here.
“Of course,” Kalibar replied. He led the way, turning about and walking unerringly back to his bedroom door. Erasmus had spent the better part of a day setting various runes about Kalibar's room, marking the location of obstacles and important destinations. Kalibar could quite literally feel the entire suite, navigating through his domain as quickly and safely as any other man. At Kalibar's touch, his bedroom door opened, and they all stepped inside.
Kalibar's bedroom was large by any standard, with a comparatively modest-sized four-post bed set back against the wall. The floor was made of polished granite, two-story tall windows allowing the sun's rays to glitter off of the opulent surface. A few feet from the bed, a man in glimmering, golden armor knelt, staring down at a black-armored form lying motionless on the floor. The armored man glanced up as Kyle entered, staring with his startlingly blue eyes. It was Darius, of course...and as usual, he looked remarkably bored.
“What have you found?” Kalibar asked the bodyguard, stopping a healthy distance from the body.
“He's dead,” Darius replied, rising to his feet. The man was tall – taller even than Kalibar – and despite the armor covering him from his chest downward, it was clear that he wasn't lacking in the muscle department. Erasmus snorted.
“Hot damn, somebody give that man a raise,” the Grand Runic quipped, walking up to Darius and clapping him on the shoulder with a metallic clang. “Not only that, I think we'll add 'Royal Coroner' to his title,” he added with sly grin. Darius's expression, as usual, didn't change.
“Nice wards,” the bodyguard growled back. Erasmus froze, looking shell-shocked. Then he gave Darius a murderous glare.
“Insolent swine,” he grumbled. “Why can't you hire a proper bodyguard, Kalibar?”
Kalibar ignored the two, his expression one of practiced patience. Darius, in turn, ignored Erasmus, turning back to Kalibar.
