Saving Olympus- the Dark Army

by R D Wolfe

  Saving Olympus

  The Dark Army

  Book One

  Written By:

  E-book Edition, License Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Copyright © 2019 R.D. Wolfe All rights reserved

  To my son, Hunter. You can do whatever you want to in life, if only you work hard enough and keep the goal in sight.

  Acknowledgements: J.R. Rain, J.T. Cross, and C.J. Urban

  This work exists because of your endless advice, help, and support. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  Cover art by John Henry Esteban

  Text art by Sketch Study

  Map art by Anna Chamberlain

  Edited By Alex Baldwin

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: The Career

  Chapter 2: The Transition

  Chapter 3: The Story

  Chapter 4: The Dream

  Chapter 5: The Departure

  Chapter 6: The Capture

  Chapter 7: The Marauders

  Chapter 8: The Offer

  Chapter 9: The Raid

  Chapter 10: The Request

  Chapter 11: The Wraith

  Chapter 12: The Family

  Chapter 13: The Arrival

  Chapter 14: The Sense

  Chapter 15: The Thief

  Chapter 16: The Hope

  Chapter 17: The Plan

  Chapter 18: The Caves

  Chapter 19: The Duel

  Chapter 20: The Enemy

  Chapter 21: The Promise

  Chapter 22: The Four

  Pronunciation Guide

  Author’s Note

  Chapter 1: The Career

  The Academy had been Darien’s home for his entire life. Dropped off by an unknown guardian when he was only a few months old, Darien’s family had been the teachers, students, and the very walls of the school itself.

  The Academy was your typical school, Darien learned chemistry, history, biology, trigonometry, all of it. But what Darien loved most, was their sports. The Academy didn’t have a football team, a baseball team, or anything else of the kind. Instead, they taught their students ancient, time-tested skills which disciplined the body and mind in ways that went beyond simple sportsmanship. Many of the skills they learned using the weapons of a long-gone era would be useless among the wider world, but the lessons they absorbed while learning those skills would last a lifetime. That was the idea anyway.

  Darien rounded a corner as he made the journey towards his mentor’s office. Master Whyn had been a favorite teacher of Darien’s from his first days in the school. Master Whyn was the head of the swordsmanship department and Darien spent many of his mornings being instructed by his teacher on what position to practice, what moves to memorize, and what tactics to master. Darien led his team of three other students, who would square off against other teams within The Academy. His team was the best, and he intended to keep it that way, so he spent an uncountable number of hours practicing and studying everything he could of the art of swordplay and small-scale battle tactics.

  His chemistry teacher had once told him, “If you’d just spend half as much time looking at the table of elements as you do memorizing strategies for the arena, you’d be my best student.” Darien had laughed, and kept right on reviewing the tactics playing out in the privacy of his own mind, not really caring about the value of a mole, how many electrons an atom had, or what shell they were in.

  After several more minutes of walking, he came to a corridor lined with doors every ten feet or so on the left and every twenty on the right. The doors to the left were classrooms, the doors on the right were the staff’s offices. This was the swordsmanship department. Darien proceeded down the hall until coming to a door in roughly the middle of the passage with a sign reading, “Head.” Just below that another reading “Master Kenneth Whyn.” Darien took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

  He heard Master Whyn from inside call, “Enter.”

  The room was cool and dimly lit, making it seem like it was dusk, though the sun had already risen into the cloud-strewn sky an hour before, casting a bright glow on the outer stone walls of the school.

  Master Whyn never took his eyes from Darien’s as he walked towards the center of the room, expression completely neutral. Whyn was not an old man, but he probably had more days behind him than ahead. His brown hair was flecked with grey and his eyes were the color of a lightly cloudy sky; soft, yet persistently stern. He stood proud and tall, just about Darien’s height.

  “Please, sit down, Mister Glade” Whyn said, motioning to Darien to take one of two chairs at the desk across from him. Darien moved through the sparsely furnished room, glancing at the familiar layout. Whyn’s desk, a reading chair, a few floor lamps, and not much else save for the rows and rows of bookshelves. Darien sat and waited for what seemed like an eternity before Whyn sat down, continuing the silent, persistent stare at his pupil.

  Darien shifted uncomfortably in his chair as Whyn’s eyes studied him closely, seemingly piercing into Darien’s very thoughts. Finally, Whyn stood up and walked across open floor to pull a tattered book from a shelf.

  “Do you know why I called you here?” Whyn asked, as he perused through his vast library.

  After a brief hesitation, not knowing if he was supposed to have this answer or not Darien said cautiously, “No, sir, I don’t.” Whyn replaced the book, turned, and looked at Darien seriously.

  “The Academy has seen tens of thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of students in its lifetime. Even the members of The Academy Council do not know how many students we have trained, or even when the school was founded or built, for that matter. Even so, from everything we have read and studied about The Academy, there seems to be no precedent for what we intend to do now.”

  Darien was more confused than ever. He watched as Whyn crossed the room to the window and looked out onto the freshly mown front lawn of The Academy. “Master Whyn, I don’t—”

  “Why did you pick the sword?” Master Whyn cut across Darien’s words.

  “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t understand what you mean.”

  Whyn sighed and turned to look at Darien, half of his face falling into the shadows. “Why, in your third year, did you choose the sword? You could have chosen the bow, the axe, or even the staff.” Whyn paused as he sat back down at his desk. “Every weapon was open to you, and I am sure that you would have been formidable with any of them. I ask you again: Why the sword?”

  Darien was caught off guard by the question. He had never really stopped to think about why he had chosen the sword. For Darien, it hadn’t really felt like a choice. From the time he was three years old and watching the other teams compete in the Arena, he knew he wanted to be a swordsman. It felt like he hadn’t chosen the sword so much as the sword had chosen him.

  “To be honest, sir,” said Darien slowly, “I hadn’t given it much thought until now. I suppose I like the challenge it brings. You have to be graceful and fierce at the same time. Cautious and daring. To master using a sword just…” Darien shrugged, “made sense, I guess…” He let silence fill the room again as a gentle breeze wafted the smell of the grass in to meet them.

  Whyn said nothing and looked back toward the open window.

  “Why do you study as hard as you do?” Whyn asked abruptly. Darien jumped at the sudden break in the peaceful stillness.

  That one Darien knew, as long as Whyn wasn’t asking about chemistry: “I want to be the best.”

  “No, no,” Whyn impatiently shook his head as he waved his hand to swat away Darien’s answer. “I mean to say, why do
you stay here at The Academy when you clearly have friends who would gladly accept you into their homes? Why do you choose to stay here instead of seeking a life outside of these walls?”

  The questioning made Darien uncomfortable, not because he disliked the answers he had to give, but because he didn’t have any. Philip, his closest friend and roommate, had invited Darien to come to his family’s home over holidays and breaks for the first three years they had known each other. Darien had turned him down every year, opting instead to stay at The Academy where he would train, study, and explore the corridors of the school. He never had a good reason—he just always knew he didn’t want to. Darien didn’t even celebrate his birthday with his friends. How could you when no one knew when you were born?

  “Because the Academy is my home,” he said simply. Whyn stared at Darien, examining him once again with his piercing eyes. Darien could hear students running by the office door as they hurried to classes to start their day.

  After another few minutes of silence, Whyn asked, “What do you intend to do after graduating from The Academy at the end of the year? You’ll get your diploma from our sister school, granting you the full rights of any new adult in the world. What path do you see for yourself? College? Travel?”

  “I don’t know sir, probably travel. Go and see what’s out there, you know, in the world. Try to make a life for myself… somewhere,” Darien looked away from Master Whyn uncomfortably. The truth was that Darien didn’t really want to leave The Academy, but he couldn’t tell Master Whyn that. It seemed childish.

  “What if I were to tell you that you could stay here at The Academy?” Whyn said, watching Darien carefully.

  “Wh-what do you mean?” Darien stuttered. “Keep studying here? As a student?”

  “No, not as a student,” Master Whyn gave him another rare smile. “Though you would be required to continue your studies, particularly in the subjects where you seem to have simply slipped by.” Whyn leaned back in his chair, seeming to finally relax for the first time since their conversation had begun.

  “The Academy is hidden from the world, as you know. We guard the secret of the school’s existence jealously, in large part because of the secrets this building contains, pieces of history and information much of the world believes to be lost or simply legend. Things which are better kept hidden.”

  “Like what, sir?” Darien asked cautiously, unsure of how far he could push the subject.

  Darien had figured there was more in the catacombs of The Academy than he’d been able to discover in his forays through the halls, but he hadn’t been able to come up with any theories as to what was behind the gates that locked away the dark unlit passages below the ancient building. Nothing that could possibly be real, anyway.

  “I’ll explain more another time,” Whyn crossed one leg over the other comfortably as he continued.

  “Because of the nature of The Academy, finding capable instructors willing to live and teach in secrecy is… difficult. However, you have been noticed, and not just by me. Other heads of various departments—myself, as well as other members of staff—have had long discussions regarding you and your future with The Academy Council.” Whyn leaned forward, folding his hands in front of him on the desk. “Despite the lack of precedent, we would like to offer you a position as a teacher in the department of swordsmanship here at The Academy.”

  Darien stared, speechless. He jumped up, mouth agape, hands clutching his head. Turning, he began to walk the room pacing from door to desk and back again. He had always dreamed of becoming a teacher, or even head of a department at The Academy, but students were never hired while anyone they went to school with was still attending. That meant students had to wait at least ten years before even being able to consider becoming a member of staff. By then, they had usually lost what weaponry skills they possessed, simply because of their practicality in the “real” world. No one needs to know how to fight with a bow while selling houses, running a business, or programming computers.

  Halfway between the desk and the door, Darien turned back towards Master Whyn, now grinning from behind his desk. “We do not need an answer, nor do we want one from you today. Please, take time to carefully consider this. We wanted to wait until after the year-end tournament to make this offer, but we also must weigh that against the need for you to make an informed and thoughtful decision. Think well, Mister Glade; this has great implications for not only your life, but those closest to you.”

  Darien’s mind immediately leapt to Kara. He had to talk to her. She would leave The Academy after graduation this year and move into the wider world. They had talked of going together, just the two of them, where they could be alone. Darien enjoyed the thought of continuing their relationship but accepting this offer would mean leaving all that behind in favor of the one thing he enjoyed doing above all others. He had to talk to her.

  “You must tell no one of this, Darien. Regardless of your decision, we cannot afford to make this public so close to the end of the year. It would only serve as an unproductive distraction for the students. No one must know until The Academy Council decides otherwise.”

  Darien nodded, “Sir, may I tell my team?”

  Whyn looked at him intensely for a few moments. “Teams must be able to trust each other implicitly and without reservation. If you feel they can be trusted to keep this to themselves, then you may tell them, only so that no secrets impede your progress together and only if they will keep it in the strictest confidence. Not a word to anyone else.”

  Darien stood in the center of the office, still lost in thought.

  “I believe,” said Whyn softly, “that you have an exam to get to, if I am not mistaken?”

  Darien looked at his watch. He had five minutes to go up four stories and then run through two hallways to get to his classroom for the exam.

  “Yes, sir! May I be dismissed?” Whyn nodded and Darien ran out the door hurrying to his exam, though he wasn’t sure he would be able to focus on European history or chemistry today. Darien did well enough on the exams, he thought, but he grew annoyed by the end of the day. Philip, who was in the same chemistry course as Darien, as well as a few of the other classes, had been bugging him about the meeting with Master Whyn, trying to figure out what was wrong.

  “You’ve been staring off into space all day,” Philip said, just after they finished their chemistry exam. “It’s like you’re a thousand miles away.” Darien had just shrugged and said he was fine, and Philip was just imagining things.

  Philip O’Conner was seventeen, but he looked older to Darien due to his early beard growth and shaggy brown hair. His dark eyes that rarely gave any indication as to what was on his mind. Short and stocky, he had always reminded Darien of a bull, a fast one. Most importantly, Darien knew him as a formidable ally, and an even better friend.

  Darien had dodged each question from Philip as best he could. The truth was that Darien had been trying to figure out if and how he was going to tell the rest of the team about the meeting with Whyn. They walked down the hall, heading towards their shared dormitory after Darien had gone to practice his forms. Philip watched, continuing to pester him relentlessly.

  Just outside the dining hall, they spotted Lia, captain of another team, and Darien’s closest rival. Lia also fought with a sword and was quite good, though she had never quite been able to beat Darien, even when she cheated. They had their last match against her tomorrow, the outcome of which would determine who was in first place for the school-wide tournament at the end of the year. This would be Darien’s last, and he intended to win.

  “Look loser, I don’t care where you got it, just give it to me!”

  Darien looked to where she directed her words. It was a young kid, in his first or second year at The Academy. Darien had seen him hanging around the arena after his matches.

  “Darien just leave it alone,” Philip whispered in his ear, but Darien ignored him and approached Lia and the kid she had pinned to a corner. The boy s
tood there, clutching the model of a fighter jet.

  “Please, my mom sent it to me. It’s the same plane my dad flies. It makes sounds, see?”

  The kid pressed a button, and the plane made a mechanical noise that sounded close enough to jet engine.

  “Oh, your mommy sent it to you? I don’t care, give it here.”

  “Leave him alone,” Darien said flatly, causing Lia to turn in surprise.

  “Stay out of this, Glade. Why do you care if he gets to keep his stupid plane?”

  “Because it’s his,” Darien shrugged. “That should be enough.”

  Lia ignored him and reached out, tugging the toy plane from the kid’s grasp who reached out frantically, trying to regain possession of his gift from home.

  “Hey!” Darien shouted, “Give it back to him now!”

  “Or what? You gonna fight me? You wouldn’t dare. You’d ruin that perfect record of yours.”

  Lia tossed the plane into the air several times, catching it, and tossing it up again. Darien watched the rhythm carefully and, timing everything just right, drew the sword he had at his belt from practice, caught the underside of the plane, flung it into the air, and into Philip’s hands.

  “Hey!” Lia cried in surprise, clearly not expecting Darien to have done anything so bold.

  An angry snarl crossed Lia’s face, as she drew her sparring sword. Darien knew it wasn’t sharp but could still cause a bit of damage if it struck anyone.

  “Lia, it’s over, don’t do anything stupid.” Darien said in a dangerous whisper.

  “What is going on here?”

  The four of them looked over and saw Master Akira, the strict woman who headed the archery department, standing in a doorway.

  “Lia, she was taking the plane from him!” Philip cried, but it was too late.