Читать книгу The Wielder Trials - Franca Ogbonnaya - Страница 3

Malie was hungry. It had been too long since he had last eaten. Maybe she had finally forgotten about him. That would be ideal but too much to hope for.

The giant sea serpent sighed as he tried to make himself comfortable in the transparent, reinforced tank now too cramped for his coils. Malie could barely recall what it was like to swim in the free waters of the Heldiar Sea. He, along with his four siblings, had been plucked from his nesting ground an eternity ago. That thought made him open his one good eye to look at the other four empty tanks resting against the irritating pure white marble walls of the large underground chamber.

His broodmates had been dead for years. The Alkynaia weren’t supposed to survive in captivity, but he had.

If one called this surviving.

Footsteps . The alkynaia froze as a familiar figure in a flowing, crimson gown glided down the white marble stairs leading into the large chamber. She was followed by a group of attendants and her Specialist Wielder Guards, two of them dragging a protesting young girl in prison garb.

It looks like food has arrived, thought Malie with disgust as he watched the proceedings. He stirred to get a better view of the ceremony he’d witnessed countless times over the years, one that never failed to fill him with loathing…and fear.

The group moved towards the grey stone altar occupying the middle of the room.

“Bring her forward,” ordered Queen Kallesa as she used runes to open a small built-in compartment at the altar’s base. Already the young wielder was pleading for her life, swearing she had always revered the Immortal Queen of Namira. Malie shook his head in pity. Her cries for mercy would do no good. He knew what was to come.

“You would serve me better by keeping still my dear,” said Queen Kallesa, ironically cheerful as she attached an ancient looking armlet to the girl’s right arm. The guards in their deep-violet uniforms looked wary but didn’t dare let go of the struggling girl as the queen continued her preparations. They knew better. She activated a small fire rune on the bracelet, and for a long moment nothing happened.

The frightened girl looked at the queen, hope dawning momentarily. Queen Kallesa held up a hand.

“Any moment now.”

“What—” the girl’s words were cut off and her eyes widened as unrelenting pain wracked her frame. She began to scream as the queen nodded, a satisfied smile on her face.

“Place her on the altar and hold her in place,” she instructed. The guards darted to carry out her orders. Queen Kallesa waited as the girl experienced seizures so violent the guards strained to keep the wielder from falling off the altar. Pain tore through the poor girl. The bracelet began to glow. Finally, the seizures stopped, and the girl’s pained expression was replaced by a vacant look as her breathing slowed.

The queen glanced at the timepiece on the wall and nodded. “Just like clockwork. Three minutes of fits and three minutes of gasping for breath,” she observed with a sardonic laugh. “This never gets old.”

Malie watched the attendants waiting nearby. Though they were the clean-up crew, they still appeared uncomfortable with the murder before them. And yet none of them ever lifted a finger or tried to intervene. And neither could he.

The young woman took one more gasp then went still in a way only a corpse could. Queen Kallesa waved the guards away, their nervous expressions now transformed into looks of hunger for the armlet, now glowing a golden brown. The ancient jewelry was now filled with the earth wielder’s element. The queen’s smile widened at the expressions on the guards’ faces.

“Not today, my dear Specialists.” The two purple-clad guards dropped their disappointed gazes. Queen Kallesa chuckled, turned back to the girl, and tugged on the armlet. Her smile dimmed when she realized the jewelry was stuck. That was unusual. She tugged again, and suddenly the dead girl’s eyes snapped open, the orbs glowing white. The attendants and guards cried out in fear.

“The prophecy will be fulfilled. She and the Three are coming for you! ” The dead girl spoke in a voice not her own.

Queen Kallesa’s eyes widened, but she refused to let the armlet go. She tugged harder and began to wield fire in one hand. But before she could release the burning sphere, the light left the undead girl’s eyes and the armlet loosened, falling into the queen’s hand. She stepped back slowly as if expecting the dead body to speak again. She turned to face the others, her face a picture of rage.

“What in the Abyss are you idiots standing around for?! Throw her useless body into the snake tank before I toss you all in there!”

They hurried to comply as she put on the glowing armlet, her hands trembling softly. Once the jewelry was attached, the glow spread from the armlet, up her arm and through the rest of her body. Anyone watching closely would have seen the crow’s feet around her eyes disappear and her red, flowing hair shine from within. She smiled as the earth element renewed her, turning back the hands of time. The queen waited until the armlet stopped glowing before returning it to the rune-locked compartment.

She turned back in time to see an attendant lift the heavy glass lid above Malie’s cage before dropping the body into the tank. There had only been one occasion when the attendants had been too slow to dispose of the body and Queen Kallesa had blasted one of them into oblivion. That had taught them to move faster.

The alkynaia watched the attendants, motionless. He had learned early on not to attack her servants. There was no point…not yet anyway.

“You must be very hungry by now,” crooned the queen. Malie turned his one baleful eye on her. “Come now, you’ll take a bite for me, won’t you dear?”

The alkynaia just stared at her, refusing to regard the corpse that had settled on his coils. Moments passed and the queen’s smile slid off her face.

“I wonder what would happen if I boiled you alive in your little tank?” The sea serpent only continued to stare.

In the queen’s right hand an orb of fire appeared that gradually increased in size, and still the snake refused to be cowed.

This is it , thought Malie. Just kill me, you miserable excuse for a wielder.

“Your Highness.”

Queen Kallesa spun around. The guard who had just entered the room paled at the expression on her monarch’s face. “I apologize for the interruption, but you asked to be informed when the Chief of Intelligence and the other ministers arrived.”

The queen stared at the guard for a moment before letting the flame dissipate.

“Indeed, I did.” She smiled, to the collective relief of the rest of her servants. “We’ll continue this conversation later,” the monarch hissed to the serpent as she left.

Malie didn’t relax until he was alone with the corpse. He squeezed his eyes shut. She had been about to kill him, and he was more than ready for it. He glanced at the dead body in his tank.

You did not die in vain. Your sacrifice is appreciated . Now it was time to eat.

#

Queen Kallesa strode briskly, her guards rushing to keep up with her. Visitors of the past had marveled at the long broad hallway with its colossal, ornately decorated marble blue columns spaced widely enough to allow one glimpses of the spectacular royal gardens. To her though, it was nothing more than gaudy and human inspired. And the gardens? Ugh .

She ignored the bows of the courtiers who darted out of her way. Right now, she was tempted to immolate anyone who looked her in the eye. They had no idea how fortunate they were as she strived to keep her anger in check.

Conversation ceased immediately as she entered the conference room. Queen Kallesa waved away the bows as she glided regally to the head of the ancient round grey marble table. All those present remained standing until she sat.

“Lensworth, report.”

The Minister for the Namiran Intelligence Agency, Nathan Lensworth, cleared his throat and spoke. “We have located fifteen more wielders from families attempting to cross into Malaquey. They have been taken to the hostel.”

The queen frowned. “Fifteen is a pitiful number.”

Lensworth nodded. “And I’m afraid it’s the largest number we’ve discovered in six months. The only places that would have wielders in significant numbers would be the three colleges in Malaquey.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting we openly raid the three colleges in the heart of Malaquey?”

The minister flushed. “No, Your Highness. I apologize for speaking out of turn.”

“Splendid.” The queen turned to face another official. “How is the progress on the new ships coming?”

Master Engineer Tresh Stamets nervously stepped forward. “The shipbuilders are working as fast as they can, Your Highness. We will have one fully completed warship in four months.”

“Make that two ships in three months or I’ll have to get a new master engineer,” threatened Queen Kallesa with a cold smile. Stamets went pale but nodded.

“Minister Lensworth.” The intelligence officer looked wary. Good . She loved abruptly switching from one official to another. It made them so uncomfortable.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Did you identify the merchant ship that convinced the Dyhaeri and Alkynaia to destroy four of my brand-new warships?”

The official answered carefully. “We need more time, Your Highness. I have sent word to our spies in Malaquey’s major docks. Sailors have loose lips, so in time we will get the information we need.”

The queen stared at him until sweat formed on his brow. “No word yet on how the Malaquey government will respond to our excursion into their territories?”

“It is too soon to tell, Your Highness.”

She turned away and stared at a tall open window for a long moment. Five months ago, she had received an unexpected prophecy from a dying wielder. A month after that, she had ordered four of her new warships to cross the sea border into Malaquey waters. Their orders were simple. Find any wielders, preferably female, around the ages of fifteen and sixteen years old. Snatching wielders for her private use was an order none of her naval officers dared disobey. But this had been the first time in decades the Namiran navy had ventured uninvited into Malaquey waters.

And it had ended in disaster. Somehow, three of her new warships had been destroyed by a Malaquey merchant ship with the aid of the Alkynaia and a lone cursed Dyhaeri wielder.

How in the Deep had that occurred?

“Prepare a statement and send it to their king. Tell them we accidentally strayed into their waters because we saw a ship being attacked by Alkynaia. However, when we tried to intervene, the serpents turned their attention on us, allowing the other ship to escape. Make sure you get the name of that merchant ship and its crew manifest.” She lazily waved a hand. “You’re all dismissed.”

The officials looked at each other, clearly wishing to discuss more, but Queen Kallesa was not in the mood. She kept her gaze on the window long after they had left. Her mind was occupied with the words and memories of her latest subject.

Nothing in the dead girl’s memories was useful.

The queen gripped the armrest as her hand began to heat up, the smell of burning wood forcing her to clamp down on her rage. Over the past four decades, she had modified the ancient armlet so when it took the subject’s powers, it also took the memories. This was why she had been able to gain so much information others could not, such as where wielders were hiding in her kingdom, timetables and locations of those smuggling wielders into Malaquey, the identity of spies, and technological secrets that had been hidden from her.

But Queen Kallesa’s mind kept returning to what had occurred five months ago, the real reason she had sent those warships into Malaquey waters. A wind wielder had been captured hiding close to the border. But once the armlet had sucked out the element, memories, and life force of the wielder, Queen Kallesa had tried to remove it, only for the corpse to open its eyes and speak with another’s voice. She could still remember the words.

A wielder awakes late but still in time. She of sixteen cycles has the strength and the ability to bring the Three together. She is the catalyst. The Dyhaeri, the lost ones, the chained ones, and the Alkynaia will aid her and the Three. She and the Three will send the Immortal One to the Abyss.

Queen Kallesa had grabbed the corpse. “Who is this girl? What is her name and element?!”

The dead wielder had grinned at her and said in an otherworldly voice, “Kallesezza, betrayer of blood and cursed of your people, your time is coming to an end.”

And those had been her last words. Of course, Kallesa had been forced to kill the attendants and guards who had witnessed the odd event. They had heard her true name after all.

Even when the queen had put on the armlet, she had only gotten the power and some stupid memories, nothing that had made sense. She suspected the first strange wielder to speak in such a way had been an untrained Seer.

But to find two in five months? That couldn’t be a coincidence.

She was still tempted to kill those who had been in the room today, though she knew that was unnecessary. They knew the price of spilling her secrets. However, maybe things were looking up. That merchant ship must have been carrying the wielder mentioned in the prophecy. Why else would the Dyhaeri and Alkynaia have helped her? She suspected if she found this girl, then she would find the remaining Three.

“Who are you?” she asked of the universe.

#

Britea inspected her reflection in the tall mirror as she nervously straightened out her uniform. She wore a white cotton, short-sleeved, buttoned shirt tucked into a long storm-grey skirt, the hem of which was a pale water blue to represent her element. She was grateful for the long black woolen stockings, especially now that the chill of winter had arrived. Britea had braided her curly, deep-chocolate hair into a single plait and hoped it looked tidy enough.

The finishing touch was the storm-grey jacket with its pale blue-edged cowl. As she put it on, a now familiar numbness in the center of her chest began to grow.

This was her third day at the college, and already she was so overwhelmed. In less than two hours, she would be meeting with the warden to decide on her classes. She had arrived on the weekend, so the last two days had been spent dealing with minutiae rather than preparing her schedule.

First had been getting fitted for a uniform. Fortunately, the college tailor had already had something in her size. Next up had been getting a timetable and a list of rules a mile long such as the daily waking, resting, and lights-out schedule. She would have been completely overwhelmed if not for her roommate.

“You ready?”

Britea turned to face Danai. The older student was already dressed in her own storm-grey jacket and long skirt, both of which had fire-red edgings. On Danai, the outfit made her look regal.

“I…I think so.”

Danai smiled kindly at her. “Don’t worry. With time, you’ll get used to being here. So, what’s the first thing on your agenda today after breakfast?”

Britea checked the list on the notebook on her desk. “Orientation with Warden Asteros, register at the library, and the rest says, ‘Class levels to be decided.’”

Dania frowned. “They probably want to test your general knowledge first, before sticking you into a class. They did that with me.”

“How did it go?”

“I’ll tell you on the way to breakfast.”

The girls joined the others leaving the girls-only wing on the west side of the college grounds. A long, wide hallway connected the dormitory to the main building. Its walls were old but polished light oak panels. Enormous portraits of former female teachers hung from some of the panels. Britea wondered if there were portraits of male teachers in the boys’ wing on the east side. Probably.

From her brief perusal of the college map, she knew they were heading north to the massive dining hall. The classes and the library were close by, but she was yet to memorize that part of the map.

“I first came here when I was sixteen years too.”

Britea looked at Danai in surprise, and the older student chuckled. “That may be why Warden Asteros picked me as your mentor. You already know Weltonians have their own system of training, yes?”

Britea nodded.

“Well, I started wielding at an early age with my people’s training but…but I wanted more. For me, it was my Time of Seeking.”

Britea dredged up her memories of her grandaunt’s stories. “That’s when Weltonian youths travel the world to find their place in it.”

Danai looked impressed as she nodded. “Correct. A Time of Seeking can last not less than a year and as many as five. This is my fourth year in Syla.” She paused, remembering, then continued. “When I first arrived, Warden Asteros and the headmaster were a bit concerned about how I would fit in because to them, I was already a fully trained wielder. So, I was given a general test of knowledge, arithmetic, social studies, and a bunch of other stuff. My scores were satisfactory, I guess, and I was placed in a class of my peers. After that, I was put through a mild version of the Wielder Trials so they could assess my ability.”

Britea stared at her. “Wielder Trials? What’s that?”

“The mild version or the real thing?” responded Danai with a question of her own.

“Both.”

“The mild version is just a series of tests any qualified wielder can pass to show the instructors how well you can wield.”

“But I’m not qualified,” said Britea.

“True, but Kahl taught you, yes?”

On the second day of her stay at the college, Britea had found herself telling Danai about Kahl, the Dyhaeri, and the Windrider. The older student had been speechless for several moments before she’d started firing questions at the novice wielder about the Dyhaeri. That had continued late into the morning until both had become quite sleepy.

“For less than fifty days, so that doesn’t make me qualified.”

Danai nodded. “Yet you adapted quite well. Just think of these trials as mild compared to what Kahl put you through and you’ll be fine. Once the instructors have your scores for both the tests and the trials, they’ll decide your class levels and instructors. At this college, there are three types of instructors: educational, wielder, and combat.”

Britea almost faltered in her steps. “We have to do all three?”

“No, general education and wielding instruction are a must, but combat training is optional here.”

“That’s good to know.” Wait, was combat training compulsory at the other two colleges? Britea was too nervous to ask.

Danai smiled at the relieved expression on the younger’s girl’s face. “Combat isn’t that bad. Anyway, whatever classes you end up in, I’ll help anyway I can.”

“Thanks. I’ll appreciate that,” said Britea faintly. As if she wasn’t worried enough already, now she had to anticipate trials.

Oh joy.

“So, what does general education cover?”

“History, social studies, arithmetic, economics, ancient languages—which is optional—geography, and the sciences. The sciences are subdivided into engineering and biology. Some students do both; however, you’re allowed to choose one or the other.”

Britea felt a bit dizzy with all the information. “It all sounds so complicated.”

Danai gave her a sympathetic look. “You’ll get used to it.”

Britea hoped so. “So, how many years will I have to spend here?”

Danai grimaced before answering. “That depends on your current level of education.”

Britea just stared at her.

“Training usually takes six years.”

Britea felt faint at the figure. She couldn’t go home for six years?!

Danai continued. “Most students, on average, are twelve years old when they start, which is the usual age one begins to wield. By the time they graduate at eighteen, they must have passed all the compulsory general education subjects, and most importantly, they have to become accomplished wielders, meaning, they’re fully in control of their ability and ready for the Year of Discovery.”

Britea was speechless for a moment, overwhelmed and saddened by what she was hearing. But then she realized something alarming. “But…but you only have one more year before you leave!”

Danai tried to smile reassuringly, but it was tinged with sadness. “Aye. There is that. Cheer up, little sister. Let us not fret. My leaving is still a year away.” She patted Britea’s shoulder reassuringly.

Britea’s chest felt uncomfortably tight. She had thought she had just met a friend only to realize Danai would be taken from her soon. She tried to swallow past the lump of dread in her throat.

The two students reached the dining hall and joined the queue of students as they picked up trays. Britea looked at the trays of food. She didn’t feel hungry, but she knew she had to eat something. In the end, she got two slices of toasted bread with scrambled eggs and a mug of warm tea. She glanced over at her roommate’s tray, which had a lot more on it. She couldn’t help but wonder how Danai stayed so trim.

“Danai, over here!” The two turned to see three students waving at them from one of the many tables in the hall.

“These are my mates. We’re all in the fifth-year class. They were away over the weekend. Let’s sit with them.”

Britea said nothing as her nervousness increased. She had stuck like glue to Danai for the last two days, so she was yet to really meet anyone.

“Morning, future Weapons Master Riverun. Can’t wait to face off with you in the yard.” The friendly but mocking voice belonged to a male student with light olive skin, shoulder-length, chestnut-brown hair, and broad shoulders. He wore a similar storm-grey uniform as the girls, but his had edgings of wind white. Britea stared at him and gulped. Even though he was sitting, she suspected he was a giant. To her, he was the perfect representation of the warriors she had read about in Erina Seaworth’s romance novels.

“Britea, meet Navos Odell, my sparring partner in training and crime.” Britea’s eyes widened at the fact that Danai was a fighter, and she fought a giant like Navos.

“You…you both fight? Using weapons?” She suddenly realized she sounded stupid, but she was trying to picture slender, graceful Danai fighting this giant warrior, and her respect for her roommate grew.

“Oh yeah. It’s one of the courses offered at here, but you can decline that class. I wish these knuckleheads had done that,” said a petite freckled girl with light reddish hair escaping in ringlets from the loose bun at the back of her head. “I’m Lexia Detran by the way.”

Britea smiled as she noted the girl’s storm-grey uniform also had air-white edgings.

“And the third individual wolfing down his meal as he reads is Shran Alton,” Lexia said.

The third student lifted his head from his book for a brief moment. His straight, short black hair and almond-shaped, light-green eyes emphasized a narrow face, and he pushed back spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose as he studied her. His uniform had dark earth-brown edgings.

“I apologize in advance for both my coming questions and my ongoing distraction as I have a presentation in less than four hours.”

Lexia rolled her eyes. “One he’s been studying for the past two months.”

Shran continued reading. “It has to be perfect,” he said without looking up.

“Mmhmm,” said Navos.

Shran shook his head. “Fine.” He looked up at Britea.

“You’re Weltonian like Danai?”

“Please excuse his bluntness,” said Lexia with a sigh.

Shran frowned. “Do recall I did apologize in advance. So, you’re Weltonian?

“No,” said Britea as she sat down. “I’m from Weldaros, a small village—”

“Located in the western part of Malaquey. The closest port is Xantos, and travel by sea takes just under three months.”

Britea gaped at Shran, who had turned back to his book again. Danai came to her rescue.

“His presentation is on the changing geography of Malaquey, and he has both a terrific memory and poor manners.”

“You can say that again,” muttered Navos dryly as he dug into his meal.

“So, what’s your story? This is the first time I’ve seen you. Were you at one of the other colleges?” asked Lexia.

Britea’s nervousness returned in force. She looked at Danai helplessly. “I’m new to wielding. I just discovered this ability less than two months ago.”

Shran raised his head and stared at her, while the other two students paused with food or drink halfway to their mouths. Navos looked wordlessly at Danai who nodded.

“You’re a late wielder?” whispered Lexia. Britea nodded silently.

“Which is exceptionally rare. Less than seven percent of the population are wielders and of those, more than ninety-five percent wield from the age of twelve and a half years which means—”

Navos sighed. “We get it, Shran. Please, could you stop sounding like an epidemiology textbook for one hour?”

Shran closed his book. “But she,” he said, indicating Britea, “is extraordinary—”

“And she needs to eat her breakfast before it gets cold,” pointed out Danai. Shran shut up at her gentle words. The group of five enjoyed silence for a few minutes until he raised a hand as if asking for permission.

Britea braced herself as Danai wearily nodded.

“So, how did yours manifest?” asked the earth wielder.

Everyone looked at Britea as she replied. “I got into an argument with my sister and before I knew it, I wielded water at her.”

Shran’s eyes widened.

“Did she get hurt?” asked Lexia.

“No, just a little wet and mad as hell.” The other wielders chuckled in relief.

“How did you find your way to the college?” Shran asked, shooting another question at her.

Britea felt Danai go still beside her as if in warning.

“My dah got passage for us both on a merchant vessel. It was a long journey.”

Danai relaxed at her reply, which seemed to settle Shran’s curiosity for a bit.

“Any other wielders in your family?” asked Navos.

Britea shook her head slowly. “Not that I know of.”

Shran frowned. “Maybe an ancient ancestor you’re unaware of was a wielder. It’s not unusual for many wielders to be unable to trace their family tree. The talent does tend to skip several human generations, except for the Dyhaeri and the Weltonians.” Britea couldn’t help but glance at Danai, who was calmly drinking her tea.

“So, what’s your schedule for today?” Lexia asked Britea, smoothly changing the topic.

“I’m to check in with Warden Asteros first, then my classes are to be determined afterwards.”

“Well, you can join us for lunch if you want,” said the petite redhead.

“Thanks,” said Britea.

“We’ll be absent, I’m afraid,” said Navos. “Danai and I will be at the training yards, and Weapons Master Caren prefers that his class eats lunch under his supervision.”

Britea frowned. “Why?”

“He’s a fanatic about eating the wrong foods, plus it allows more time for training when we don’t have to go back and forth from the main dining hall,” replied Danai.

“Let’s be honest. He’s a control freak,” snorted Lexia.

Navos chuckled at her words.

“Can I ask a question?” began Britea hesitantly.

“Sure. Don’t be shy,” said Lexia.

“What are the Wielder Trials? Danai told me that because I’m presenting to the college late, I’d have to take a mild version of these Trials. So, what are the real ones like?”

Navos bounced in his seat. This was obviously his favorite topic. “The Wielder Trials are the best thing about being here. It first occurred two hundred and fifty years ago, and it’s held every two years. High-level wielders are picked from the fifth and sixth years to compete in a variety of events to thrill the senses. This year, it will be held once again here in Syla. Even Shran is taking part.”

“Mmhmm,” agreed Shran solemnly without looking up from his book. “I shall only be taking part in the general knowledge round. However, this competition is very important because it’s also a recruiting opportunity for Malaquey’s military, not to mention the money and prestige earned from winning.”

Britea shot a startled glanced at the bookish older male novice.

“The money is, of course, kept in a trust to generate interest and is only given to the victors after they complete their Year of Discovery,” added Lexia dryly.

“Sounds intense,” said a stunned Britea.

“You have no idea,” said Navos. “And guess what? The Trials are in just five months. I so hope I’m picked for a team!”

Lexia rolled her eyes at his enthusiasm.

“Britea, are they any other wielders in Weldaros?” asked Shran suddenly as he looked up from his book.

“Um, not that I know of…”

“So, you may be the first wielder your village has had for some time.”

“I…I don’t know.” Britea wondered why Shran was so hung up on her lineage.

Shran studied her. “Don’t you think that’s strange? Do you know if any Weltonians settled on Weldaros generations ago?”

Britea stared at him inquiringly as she spoke the first thought in her head.

“Um…there are Weltonians on my mother’s side.”

Now all four wielders were staring at her.

“That would explain it,” said Danai.

Shran read the question on Britea’s face. “Researchers have been trying to determine the first human wielder for the past century. It’s believed the first humans to settle these lands a millennia ago were almost devoid of magic, but gradually, over time, they began to exhibit the abilities of the Dyhaeri. One factor that may have caused this development was the existence of the Weltonians, sea-faring nomads who were no stranger to magic—”

“To cut his long thesis short,” interrupted Lexia, “it’s surmised that some Weltonians settled on land and interacted with the landlocked humans, giving rise to the few human wielders.” Shran glared at Lexia for cutting him off.

“So, it’s possible every wielder is part Weltonian,” said Britea.

“Exactly,” said Shran as he stopped frowning at Lexia to grace Britea with a smile.

“Just don’t say that too loudly,” said Davos. “There are some wielders of nobility at this school who’d feel insulted at the possibility of such a connection. Me, I can take the punches. Others, not so much,” he looked pointedly at Britea.

“Excellent advice,” said Danai, with an odd expression on her face as she studied Britea. “On that note, maybe you should join us for combat training.”

Britea was struck speechless as Lexia muttered, “knuckleheads” under her breath.

#

“Enter.”

Britea took a deep breath before entering the warden’s office, and her anxiety increased when she saw the warden wasn’t alone. Standing by his desk was a middle-aged, slightly overweight woman in black robes and a long dark skirt. Her cowl had air-white edgings. That made her look back at the warden’s outfit. He was in black robes without colored edgings. She wondered what it meant.

“Good morning,” said Britea.

The warden nodded. “Britea D’Tranell, meet Instructor Eowise Shelley. Together, we’ll determine which classes you’re to start with.”

The older female wielder smiled brightly as she waved at Britea, making the young girl smile a bit. The instructor’s demeanor was nonthreatening, almost motherly, and Britea felt herself warming up to her.

“Please be seated.” The warden waited until both had found chairs. “How are you settling in?”

“Danai has been very helpful, and I’m just trying to get used to my surroundings.”

“Good,” he nodded at Eowise.

“Britea, you may address me as Instructor Shelley. What do you know of the Wielder’s Creed?” asked the female instructor.

“It…it states that any wielder must submit themselves to one of the three colleges for training. Only Weltonians are exempt from this rule.”

Eowise nodded. “Are you aware there’s a second, more detailed Creed for wielders?”

Britea looked from one instructor to the other. “N…no. What is it?” Her alarm grew when both older wielders stood and began reciting.

A wielder must be trained by a registered college. Only Weltonians are exempt from this rule.

A wielder must never use their talent to harm or kill except in self-defense.

A novice wielder must never fight fellow students. This will be punished severely.

A novice wielder must never wield without supervision. This will be punished severely.

A wielder must always endeavor to serve the people of Malaquey by fulfilling a Year of Discovery.

A wielder must never divulge the secrets of the college or wielder training to outsiders. Outsiders include non-wielder members of the family or the public.

After graduation and the Year of Discovery, a wielder may take up paid work that does not break any of the aforementioned rules.

A fully qualified wielder must check in with a college once a year. Only Weltonians are exempt from this requirement.

Any wielder who breaks the laws in such a way that endanger the public will be tried by their senior peers and sentenced accordingly.

Britea remembered to close her mouth as the two wielders sat down. Eowise resumed talking as she gave her a printed sheet of the Creed. “You must memorize this to the point that if I wake you in the middle of the night, you will be able to recite it perfectly. The Creed is what we live and die by. Do you understand?”

Britea gulped. Though the female instructor smiled, her eyes were deadly serious.

“Yes, I do Instructor Shelley.”

Eowise’s smile widened. “Good, your general knowledge test starts now.”

#

“That’s enough for today,” said Eowise. “We will resume your assessment tomorrow.” The novice nodded wearily before leaving. Both older wielders waited until the door had closed.

“So, what do you think?” asked Warden Asteros.

“Her general knowledge is impressive, especially in history. It’s still too early to decide which class to put her in though, and we’re yet to assess her wielding. Do you want me to handle that part as well?”

“It may be best that you do, especially considering she was trained by a Dyhaeri.”

Eowise shrugged. “I doubt that will be a problem. After all, she didn’t train for long, and it’s highly unlikely she learned much in that time.” As she looked down at Britea’s file, she missed the odd look the warden sent in her direction.

“I would like to be present for her wielding assessment, though, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course. I’ll see you later at lunch then,” said Eowise, rising and leaving the office.