He thought of the words he had left him with—that he would get there. If there were anyone in all the realms who could say that as a fact in this circumstance, it would be him. Devol picked the dark cloth wrapping up and twisted it slowly around the blade before he placed it gently against the wall at the foot of his bed. And as he lay back to continue thinking and drift off to sleep, a thought occurred to him that he had yet to consider until now.
Perhaps one day, he would like to meet him.
Chapter Twelve
The following morning, Devol woke earlier than he had intended. He sat and slid to the side of his bed, stretched his neck, and drew in a deep breath. They would depart for the caves today and the trial was tomorrow.
He dressed quickly, headed to the dining hall, and ate a hasty meal of fruit, oatmeal, and toast. Neither of his friends appeared while he was there and he wondered if they had slept in or were still making preparations.
After he had finished his meal, he wandered into the arena where a few Templars worked out and chatted but found none of his usual friends and elders. He decided to go and check on his two teammates and considered going to Asla first, but it occurred to him that he did not know where she stayed. He had a rough idea—somewhere in the east halls—but had never visited her room during his months at the Order. He decided he would have to ask Jazai after talking to him.
He proceeded to Zier’s tower and pushed easily through the heavy doors on the way. As he stopped for a moment to watch a pair close, he smiled when he recalled how shocked he had been on his first day when he was told that every door was like that. Now, it wasn’t something he even acknowledged most days.
After the fairly long walk, he finally entered the serene domicile of the head scholar and looked around for his friend. He took a breath to call his name but heard voices talking. Curious, he walked to the private library and peered inside.
Zier and Jazai were seated on lounge chairs and chatted casually to one another—something he was surprised to see given the tensions between the two of them over the last few weeks. He began to feel rather like an eavesdropper and knocked on the frame of the doorway to catch their attention.
“Good morning, Devol.” Zier pointed to an open seat for him to sit in.
“You’re up early,” Jazai commented. “It’s a big day, you know. You should have gotten more rest.”
“I could say the same to you,” he countered and moved closer to them but chose not to sit as yet. “You’re already dressed and everything.”
The diviner shrugged, an easy grin on his face. “I’m used to not getting much sleep, honestly, and don’t know what a ‘long night’s rest’ is anymore.” He turned slightly to glance at his friend. “Are you coming to pick me up?”
“I came to see if you were ready to go,” he replied. “I planned to check on Asla too but I realized that I don’t know where she stays.”
“She’ll find us when she’s ready,” Jazai replied as he smoothed his pant leg. “She prefers to keep to herself when she’s in her room anyway.”
“In the meantime, I’m sure Wulfsun would like to see you,” Zier stated. “He will no doubt see you off with the rest of us, but I’m sure he would appreciate a little personal time with you before you go.”
“We did all leave abruptly at the end of dinner,” the diviner recalled. “I know we’re leaving soon but we probably should take a moment to say personal goodbyes—in case…well, you know?”
Although the harrowing implications of what his friend was saying was not lost on Devol, he could not help but feel a trace of warm humor as he looked at Zier and his apprentice seated so casually across from one another. He nodded. “Do you know where I can find him?”
“I’m sure he’s up by now and probably getting in a morning workout in the private arena,” Zier told him. “You should know it—where you two sparred on your first day?”
“I do, thank you.” He bowed slightly and turned to depart. “I’ll see you at the anchor in a while, Jazai.”
“See you then, but don’t hold us up,” his friend warned playfully. “I am ready to go when you are, especially if Zier starts getting misty-eyed.”
The scholar chuckled dryly. “Me? You were the one flummoxing your words in an emotional fit a moment ago.”
“I merely tried to find the right words to tell you what you mean to me, Zier,” the diviner retorted as Devol left the library. “Like what’s a poetic word for hardass?”
Grunts, deep breaths, and other sounds of exertion grew louder as he walked down the long hall into the private arena. When he stepped onto the sandy floor, Wulfsun seemed to be practicing punches and kicks. He wore no armor on his upper body and only a pair of gray slacks below. As the boy drew closer, he noticed several deep scars on his mentor’s back that he had not seen before. “Wulfsun?”
“Aye?” the Templar captain responded, turned, and brightened when he saw the boy walking up to him. “Ah, morning, boyo. It’s good to see ya.”
Devol was surprised to see a large scar running down the Templar’s chest from his right shoulder, across his sternum, and down to the left side of his waist. His eyes must have widened or he flinched because his mentor immediately looked down and ran a hand across it. “Ah…this? It’s merely old mementos from battles past.”
“I see,” he responded and studied the old wounds. “They look…deep. I suppose I’m surprised that you have such large scars given that your majestic is primarily defensive.”
“Aye, but I got most of these before I got my majestic,” Wulfsun replied as he crossed the arena to retrieve a towel to dry himself. “Given that my magic school is constitution, I mostly used that to enhance my offensive skills rather than defensively. It took me a while to realize that I could use both effectively and in fact, it was getting my majestic that made me understand the possibilities of not simply charging in with my fists out. I didn’t get mine until a couple of months before I did the trials. My master insisted on giving it to me when he had heard enough of my bluster about him holding me back.”
“You mentioned that yesterday,” Devol recalled as he leaned against the walls. “You’ve talked about your mentor with me fairly often, but I don’t think you’ve ever told me his name.”
“Hmm, haven’t I?” Wulfsun thought for a moment. “Maybe not. His name is Skoll. He’s a wolf wildkin like Freki but a verte instead of homina, which means that he’s more likely to school the little ones.” He chuckled as he draped his towel around his shoulders. “It’s ironic, I suppose. I’m not saying he didn’t like to play up the big bad wolf persona with some people, but he was a softy deep down.”
“You said he’s been out on a mission for a long time,” he said as the man smiled at memories that ran through his mind. “Do you think I’ll ever get to meet him?”
The Templar nodded and settled his gaze on him. “I’m sure you will. He’s taken his sweet time because he does not half-ass his missions.” He picked a canteen up off the floor and took a big gulp. “He’s been out on something called a pact mission, which is basically working with several guilds we have good relationships with and helping them to take care of some nasty chores around their kingdoms that they’ve put off.
“It’s nothing he can’t handle, I’m sure, but it is time-consuming and he’ll make damn sure they get everything done before he moves on to the next guild. I received a letter a little over a month ago. He’d finished his fifth mission with a guild in the kingdom of Kanako and only has one last visit to Osira before he’ll be back with us.”
“So he’ll hopefully return soon?” Devol asked, happy that the man could be able to see his mentor again after so long.
“Aye, although it could be days or weeks depending on the job, given how thorough and stubborn he is.” Wulfsun chuckled, capped the canteen, and hung the towel on a rack. He picked a white tunic up and put it on. “So, today's the day, isn’t it, lad?”
“Tomorrow, technically,” the boy replied and pushed away
from the wall. “But we agreed to get a head start.”
“That’s a good idea. It’ll give you time to assess your enemies and potential allies,” the man said approvingly.
“Yeah, Jazai was saying the same thi—wait, allies?” Devol frowned in confusion as the Templar walked up to him. “I know Jazai and Asla will be with me, but I thought it was essentially a free-for-all.”
“It’s good to look at it like that, certainly,” Wulfsun agreed. “But it’s not winner-take-all. While there is sometimes a lone-wolf winner, there’s typically always a group of winners— maybe around ten or so. So if you come across other magi who you think could benefit you, it’s always good to make a partnership.”
“Is that how you won?” the boy asked.
His mentor scratched his head. “It would probably have made it easier, but no. I was something of a hothead in my youth—that scar on my chest, for example, came from a fight toward the end of my trial. Like I said, I had only recently gotten my majestic—Arah’s Aegis, I think Skoll called it a couple of times. The name never stuck with me, though, nor did his teachings about how to use it effectively at first.” The Templar sighed and was silent for a moment before he laughed loudly.
“Honestly, getting well and truly walloped finally made it sink in. The armor was so strong that I would let everyone else whale on me to build my power up so I could unleash it at them in return. But in the final stretch, I ran into a magi conjuror who could make magical blades that passed through armor. Normal spells and exotics may not be able to destroy a majestic but it seemed like that bastard had found a workaround,”
Wulfsun sighed as he stroked his beard. “He made this big claymore that slashed through my chest. I fell and looked up to see the blade hovering over me, ready to finish the job. I finally began to use the shields the armor produces and completely stopped every blade he threw at me, and the kicker was that it enhanced my power even more. By being such an idiot, I was handicapping myself. Needless to say, I finished my trial with both my Oblivion mark and a new scar that day.”
Devol thought about his issues with his majestic and decided to ask his mentor the question nagging at him. “What do you think my chances are, Wulfsun?”
The elder magi looked speculatively at him. “Is it starting to get to ya, lad?”
He shrugged. “I won’t turn back, but I think none of us let the gravity of this sink in fully with everything going on and trying to prepare. But hearing your story makes me—”
“Ah, don’t let me be the reason you start worrying now!” the man admonished and rested a large hand on his shoulder. “You aren’t the brash idiot I was, boy. You may still be discovering everything you can do with your majestic, but you are still a gifted swordsman and magi.”
The Templar placed a fist across his chest. “Look, we’re all worried, but part of that is because the Oblivion Trials are an unknown. They are difficult but that was the whole point of everything you’ve done until now. We sure as the hells did not expect to encounter that psychotic fire magi, but the three of you took care of him on your own and he had both a majestic and malefic. That’s something even I haven’t dealt with before.”
He moved his fist to press it against Devol’s chest. “I believe in you, boyo. We all believe in the three of you, but we will still worry. You are our comrades, after all. But we know you can take this challenge on. We wouldn’t have even considered it otherwise.”
The young swordsman smiled and placed his fist against the man’s chest—or closer to his stomach, rather, due to the height difference. “Thank you, Wulfsun. We’ll make you proud.”
“I have no doubt,” his mentor said with a smile and clapped him heartily on the shoulder. “We should probably head to the anchor now, aye?”
“Aye,” the boy agreed and mentor and apprentice left the arena and moved toward the next part of the young magi’s adventure.
Chapter Thirteen
“Hey, so you are coming?” Jazai chided playfully as Devol and Wulfsun finally crossed the drawbridge to meet the group.
“Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t think to bring any of my gear with me so I had to run to my room to fetch it,” the swordsman admitted sheepishly as he looked around. Everyone had already gathered here—the mentors, the grand mistress, and even a few of the other Templars he had befriended like Acha and Pete. Vaust sat on a branch of a large tree and waved a greeting at him, which he returned.
“It’s a big day!” Coko exclaimed excitedly. “I think this is the first time we’ve sent someone to complete the trials in a decade.”
“We haven’t had the need,” Heni, the daemoni attendant to the grand mistress, stated. “Quite a few Templars already have Oblivion Trial markers if we need to use them. This is a special case.”
“Do you honestly have to be so casual about it?” Acha asked and earned nothing more than a tight-lipped stare from the attendant.
Macha approached the young swordsman. “I wanted to see you off,” she said and scrutinized his gear. “Rogo and I considered trying to whip something up for you before you went but we were a little distracted cleaning up after your ‘training’ yesterday.”
Devol smiled apologetically. “Uh…yeah, thanks for that. I’m sorry if it took a while.”
“It’s all good, my friend,” Rogo stated cheerfully. “I only wish I could have been there to see what happened. The result was insane.”
The smith continued to laugh as Macha produced a small box and gestured for Asla and Jazai to come closer. “We may not have been able to make you anything, but you’ll probably want these.” She opened the box to reveal three rounded stones within, each dark in color but with shimmering inlays of blue, red, and yellow.
“Are these a-stones?” Jazai asked as he picked the blue one up. “You finally got around to getting us some?”
The smith frowned at him for a moment before she shrugged. “I honestly thought you already had them by now, especially given how easy it is for one of us to get them.” She glanced at the mori in the tree as she finished her statement.
Vaust shrugged as he stretched on the branch. “I’ve been busy.”
“Clearly,” Zier mused before a small acorn hit his horn. “Was that necessary?”
“It looks like Jazai has chosen his. You two take one as well,” Macha instructed. Asla selected the yellow one, which left Devol the red. The smith closed the box and motioned for them to hold their hands out with the stones. “Push a small amount of mana into them and let that travel between the three stones.” They did as instructed and watched intently as their individual mana collected within the stones and jumped like tiny sparks into each other’s.
All three young magi knew enough about them to know that they should allow silent communication between them when activated.
“Did it work?” Devol asked.
“It seems so,” Jazai responded and tapped his forehead with a wide grin.
“I heard it as well,” Asla confirmed with a small smile. “Can you hear me as well?” she asked, although her lips didn’t move.
The swordsman nodded excitedly. “Yeah, this is awesome!” he replied in thought and turned to Macha. “Thank you. This will be very helpful.”
“That’s the idea,” she assured him. “I don’t know what they will throw at you during the trials but this should at least keep you connected.”
“Keep it to yourselves for now,” Nauru told them and folded her hands into the sleeves of her robes. “My mana is in each stone we have, so if you truly need to contact us, you can reach me. But given how particular the Oblivion Council can be, it is better that you don’t give them any reason to disqualify you.”
“So you should always make sure to have each other’s backs,” Pete declared. “I had a comrade attempt the trial. He barely made it out alive and he’s a lucky one among the losers.”
“It’s not the kind of inspiration they need right now, Pete.” Reina sighed.
“Still, you shouldn’t coddle the
m at this point either,” Zier said firmly and turned to the trio. “I suppose this is it, you three. Are you sure you want to go? There is no shame in holding off for now and attempting—”
“I’m going,” Jazai interrupted with a confident grin as he pocketed the a-stone. “But I’m sure you’re well aware of that by now.”
“It would make our talk pointless if I hadn’t listened,” the dryad scholar replied and held a letter up. “I’ll make sure this gets to your father.”
“Eh, hold off on it for now. I might write a new one when I get back,” his apprentice stated and turned to his teammates. “How about you guys? Are you ready?”
Devol and Asla looked at one another and nodded. “Of course. We’ve planned this for months now and went through all the preparation. There’s no point in letting it go to waste,” the swordsman responded.
“I agree. I am eager to see how we fare,” Asla agreed as she looked at Freki and gave her uneasy guardian a comforting smile.
“As am I,” Nauru said and walked through the crowd to the three young magi. “I wish you luck and look forward to your return, young Templars.”
“Thank you, Grand Mistress,” they replied in unison and bowed slightly to her. Devol feeling a warm pride within when he realized this was the first time he had been called a Templar rather than a recruit.
Nauru turned toward the anchor. “I will open the portal for you.” She glanced over her shoulder at them. “Do you have a destination in mind?”
The swordsman looked at Jazai. “Yes, ma’am. The village of Petoile.”
The Oblivion Trials (The Astral Wanderer Book 3) Page 7
