Brightflame Accension (Book 1) Read online

  Will stood, as if in a trance, looking into the cold eyes of the troll. Finding strength from some treacherous source in its body, the troll broke the ring of officials and charged towards Will. The terrible beast swung the spiked club at Will’s head. Will barely ducked in time to dodge the blow. Will’s eyes widened in fear as he dove out of the way of another swoop of the weapon. The troll snatched Will with its three-fingered hand, holding Will upside-down and raising its club for a killing strike.

  Will shut his eyes and cringed as the troll shuddered. Nothing happened. Will opened his eyes to see his father standing on the troll’s shoulders with his sword hilt-deep in the troll’s neck.

  Old man strength, indeed, flitted the thought through Will’s head.

  The monster stumbled and dropped Will. Hitting the ground, Will saw stars dancing before his eyes. Moaning, he fell into the dark grip of unconsciousness.

  Will opened his eyes slowly. Lying on a cart padded with rough blankets that bumped along behind the horses, Will’s back smarted painfully. Fighting soreness, Will could not bring himself to move his arms for a moment. Attempting to but unable to sit up, Will fell back wincing. He closed his eyes wearily, trying to clear his head. The noise of hooves clopping along on a dirt road filled his ears; each clop was a dagger in his temples.

  Reluctantly, Will opened his eyes again, but the night was dark. Still immobile on his back, he saw nothing but the star-littered sky. As far as he could tell, he was alone with the clopping horses. For lack of better entertainment, Will lay, staring up at a star streaked sky, pondering nothing in particular. When the sky lightened, signaling dawn, Will allowed his eyes to droop and fell into a dreamless sleep.

  Initiation

  The next time he woke, Will found that he could prop himself up with only minor twangs of pain. Looking around, he recognized his surroundings; Will was in his loft at home. He leaned over the edge of his bed and saw the familiar stone fireplace and walls covered in shields of differing fields and crests. From a seat by the fire, Harold and his thick, bristly moustache were peering at him. Will smiled weakly.

  Harold smiled back, his teeth white beneath his dark whiskers. “Well, you’re up. That’s always the first step. Waking up. You took a nasty knock when you hit the ground. Those poor horses had to drag you and the supplies home.”

  “Will! You’re awake. I was hoping you wouldn’t sleep through another meal. Are you hungry, darling? We’ve got some cider for you should you like something hot,” Elizabeth said, offering Will a steaming mug of cinnamon-colored liquid.

  Will sipped at the cider happily. He didn’t feel so stiff after he had finished. He waited a few moments, then Will crawled out of the bed and sat at the table. The drink had woken in him an appetite, and Will suddenly felt famished. Elizabeth placed a plate of mutton and salted venison in front of Will, who wolfed down several large pieces of meat. Fiddling with an ornate dagger, Matthew watched him intently.

  “Harold,” Matthew said, not taking his icy blue eyes off his son, “I hate to bother you now, but I cannot wait any longer. Let’s test William.”

  “Here, Matthew?” Harold asked, casting a nervous glance at Elizabeth’s turned back.

  “Aye, here and now.”

  “You never were a patient man,” Harold said with a nostalgic smile.

  “A test?” Will protested. “I just got out of bed. I cannot prove anything now,” he groaned.

  Matthew’s eyes sparked dangerously in the way they always did when he wanted Will to shut his mouth and do what was asked of him. “Come on, Will, you’ve had plenty of time to rest. Harold is here on official business, and you wouldn’t want to waste his time would you?” The stern voice that warned of severe punishment provided just enough incentive for Will to move.

  Standing wearily from his chair, Will shed the blanket draped over his shoulders. He reached for his tunic, but Matthew grabbed him and pulled him out into the sunny yard. A slight wind tickled Will’s bare chest.

  “Are you sure you are fit, William?” Harold asked, assuming a position away from the house.

  “He’ll be fine, old friend,” Matthew interjected.

  Harold looked to Will who, despite his sore back, nodded.

  “Watch it, son!” Matthew shouted as Harold thrust his hand forward.

  A blast of air knocked Will to the ground. He howled in pain; his sides were still badly bruised. With another stream of wind, Harold sent Will tumbling across the ground like a misshapen ball. Will staggered to his feet.

  “Attack, Will! Strike back!” Matthew shouted. Will looked at him incredulously. He turned back to Harold. The moustache quivered just as the man thrust his hand forward.

  “What do you want me to do?” Will barked at his father. He was hit by the wall of air again and thrown back.

  “Go get him, son,” Matthew answered simply, cringing as Will hit the ground again. Will groaned, furiously, stubbornly fought to gain his footing again.

  Will ducked the barely visible jet. As he ran towards Harold, he looked for something to take cover from the buffeting air. The moustache fluttered. Will tripped over something long and narrow. As the wave passed, his hair was tugged by the magic he barely avoided.

  What manner of test is this? he asked himself, spitting out the dirt that had filled his mouth when he’d fallen.

  Will looked down at what he had tripped over. A forgotten shovel lay at his feet. Grabbing its handle, Will stood again. Something at that moment took hold of him. Fiery claws tore at his mind. It did not hurt, but Will felt the violence of the action all the same. The unknown force rushed through his veins; he could sense it as a warm tingle in his fingers. Then, Will was not thinking properly, and the power inside of him seemed to take control of his limbs. Will could not resist the power, but he found he did not want to.

  “I feel…” he whispered to himself, “dangerous.” He looked up at Harold. The moustache shook again. Will slashed through the air with his shovel. The movement was quick and precise. In his current condition, Will’s movements were swift and effortless. The wind was deflected by the shovelhead. Red sparks erupted as the wind struck the shovel.

  Vaguely, Will heard his father shouting with glee, but Will’s attention was focused elsewhere. Taking confident strides towards his target, Will blocked every wind strike, creating a shower of sparks until he was within striking distance of Harold. The fat man huffed and puffed, struggling to find enough energy to continue his magical barrage.

  Will raised the shovel and felt it tugged out of his hands. He turned angrily. Matthew smiled at him. His red eyes twinkled at Will. Matthew had wrenched the shovel away, and Will caught the reflection of his own eyes in his father’s. They too burned red like fiery coals.

  Will shook his head to clear it of the angry presence. The beast inside retreated without protest.

  “Well done, William,” Matthew said, a pleased grin stretching wide across his face. He and Harold left Will alone and bewildered in the oncoming darkness. Walking over to the small pond, Will looked at his reflection. Small ripples distorted his face, but his eyes were clearly blue.

  I would have killed him. What monster is this that can take control so easily? He sat alone until the air chilled him and the sun was low. When the breeze picked up, Will walked inside to the warmth of the fire.

  Harold and Matthew sat by the crackling hearth, discussing recent changes in Imperial policy and the various comings and goings of far-off people in far-off cities. Elizabeth was readying her evening tea. Tired and disturbed, Will sat down at the table with her. His fingers traced the knots in the wood.

  “Will, you felt a power in your mind during that test, correct?” Harold asked.

  “Yes, I did. Though, if Father hadn’t stopped me I don’t know if I could have controlled it. It felt as if it wasn’t me fighting, but something else,” Will replied. “Am I possessed?”

  Matthew burst into laughter at that, and Elizabeth patted Will’s arm, muttering, “No, I shoul
dn’t think so, darling.” She looked concerned and cast a disapproving glance at her husband’s amused grin.

  “What you felt is uncommon, but you are of uncommon stock. It is good that you can feel that power,” Harold said. “For all these years, when Matthew did not send word of your progress, I grew nervous. I see now that my fears were unfounded; you are your father’s son after all.” Harold’s great belly jiggled merrily and his cheeks reddened with mirth.

  “What is to happen now?” Will asked.

  “The question of an emberling,” Matthew smiled kindly. “A seasoned soldier knows that it is best to fight to the bitter end and let the world decide what happens next. The path before you will open up soon enough. Will, if only you knew what wonders you can perform in the heat of the moment-”

  Elizabeth interjected, “It is better, safer, Will, if you do not delve further into these matters today. There has been too much magic flowing in the air this day. If any who are attuned to such things are near, they are bound to notice and flock to this house.” Elizabeth shot her impassioned husband a dark look. “Harold, do you have the information you needed?”

  “Yes, and more, my lady. I believe he will do very well at the Academy. This test, for a lad like young William, is more of a formality than a necessity. His acceptance is essentially guaranteed,” Harold paused, thoughtfully. “Perhaps, Matthew should teach him something of his potential while he remains here at home. At the Academy, I’m afraid he may lack the proper guidance one with his, ummm, ability may require.”

  If looks could kill, Elizabeth might have struck down Harold right there and then, but instead she merely nodded briskly, “Thank you, Harold, but I’m sure the Academy will not fail him.”

  “Only a suggestion, my lady,” Harold said warily, knowing that he tread on thin ice. “With my tests complete, I suppose I must off. Fortune will have us united again soon, surely, but until then, farewell my friend.” Harold got ponderously to his feet, embraced Matthew, and turned back to Elizabeth. “Beautiful Elizabeth, thank you for your hospitality. William, I wish you the best of luck and look forward to hearing of your progress.” Harold clasped Will’s hand.

  “Can I not persuade you to stay for another day or two?” Matthew asked. “Surely, you must want to rest a night under a solid roof with a hot meal in that immense belly of yours?”

  “No, my old friend. Unfortunately, I have other business that wants my attention. I will review my observations and send word of the results when I can. Farewell.” With that, Harold walked out the door, struggled onto a roan horse, and rode off as the sun set beyond the grassy hills.

  Matthew waved from the doorway. When he returned, Matthew suggested that Will rest; they were to hunt tomorrow as their food stores were running low again.

  Fears New and Old

  The next day, Matthew woke early and gathered the supplies needed for the hunt. It was his large hands that shook Will awake, and the two departed before Elizabeth woke. Burdened only with lightweight packs, Matthew and Will walked alongside their two horses for an hour until they reached an expanse of forest. They would stay in that forest for as long as their supplies lasted them.

  Passing the first of the tall pines, Matthew looked back to his farm in the distance. His face paled and transformed abruptly from shock to fury. Will turned to see black smoke rising steadily from the house.

  “William, do not follow. Wait here, I’ll be back when all is safe.” Dropping his pack, Matthew mounted his mare and thundered towards the burning home. Despite the order, Will took a step after him but before he took another, Matthew shouted over his shoulder, “Do not follow!”

  His father had told him to wait. Matthew had made that point perfectly clear. Will kicked at a fallen stick, shattering the wood. How am I supposed to wait patiently whilst all I know burns to the ground, he thought angrily. For what seemed a lifetime, Will squinted at the house, impatiently scanning the horizon for a sign that his father and mother were uninjured. Absent that sign, Will was left in agonizing suspense. He sat on the needle-strewn ground at the edge of the forest. Another few minutes passed without change.

  Suddenly, Will spied tongues of fire issuing from the house to join the smoke still furling above his home. Will scrambled to his feet as fast as he could with eyes glued on the spot where he had seen the flame. Nothing happened. Then, more fireballs erupted near the house. His family was in trouble. Matthew must have made it back to the house by now, and if the flames were still spreading, it could only mean that they needed help.

  Leaving his own pack save for a half-full quiver at the edge of the wood, Will strung his oak bow and took off towards the burning house, kicking Soulfire into a gallop. In a few short minutes, he arrived before the burning house, Soulfire snorting loudly. Dismounting, Will drew an arrow from the leather quiver strapped to the saddle. Nocking the arrow, he stepped forward. Slowly, he crept toward the house. Carefully, Will rounded the corner, afraid of what he might find.

  Nothing horrifying awaited him, so Will quietly advanced a few paces. Suddenly, six figures burst from within the house. Two mail-clad men ran to mount dappled palfreys, retreating at breakneck speed. A beam of white light shot after the riders but missed by yards when the riders dipped down a hill and out of sight.

  “What the hell are you doing, Will?” shouted Matthew Stormhand upon seeing his son. Matthew turned, but as he approached Will, a bloodied soldier beat the father over the head with the hilt of his sword.

  Elizabeth cried out in anguish as she clapped her hands together, releasing a jet of brilliant blue energy at the man. He crumpled beside Matthew, his charred skin smoking in his rusty and blood-spattered cuirass.

  The only remaining assailant slapped her backhandedly across the face. She fell to the ground from the blow from his mailed gauntlet. She tried to stand but was shoved to the ground. The marauder’s sword was raised high above her.

  A bubbling fury rose in Will’s stomach. The rage morphed to an uncontrollable beast. He pulled the bowstring back nearly to its breaking point. With a fearsome roar, he released the arrow.

  The soldier looked up just in time to see the arrow burst into flames. Will fancied that the cruel face seemed to smile sadly for a moment just before the burning arrow was extinguished in his face.

  “Will?” Elizabeth whispered in shock.

  Matthew stirred. Face down, he muttered into the ground.

  “What?” Will growled, still feeling the rage pumping through his veins.

  Angry and confused, Will dropped his bow and ran. He ran without knowing why he fled or where he might be going. He just ran. The sun began to fall from its throne at the top of the sky as Will left. After a time, his anger began to subside, lessening with each stride. Every step cleared his head further. But with clarity, came his thoughts, scared and violent, filling Will’s mind. He had killed a man.

  Will slowed to a stop, breathing heavily. Only then did Will notice that he had been followed; Soulfire nickered softly and nuzzled Will with his soft nose. The horse’s presence calmed him, and for a long while, Will simply stood.

  When he finally arrived home, Will was unsurprised to see his mother and father waiting for him. They were huddled by a fire in the stable, which had been undamaged by the attackers. The snow leopard Lumina rummaged through Will’s house, sifting through the sooty foundation with her large paws.

  The house itself was a pathetic ruin in comparison to the isolated haven it had been before. The roof had collapsed, the walls were scorched, and the only remaining ornaments were the charred shields that had lined the now blackened walls.

  “William, darling, you’re okay!” Elizabeth cried out. She seemed uninjured. “I worried that when you ran, you would be pursued.”

  “By who, Elizabeth?” Matthew scoffed. “He killed the last one.”

  “Two escaped,” Elizabeth scowled at her husband.

  “I would wager on Will, despite the odds.”

  “He was unarmed, Matthew.”


  Matthew shrugged, grinning.

  Will looked at his mother then shifted his gaze to his father. Matthew scanned Will with his gray eyes, looked at a parchment in his calloused hand, and then back to his son.

  “At any rate, I am proud!” Matthew cried happily, stepping forward to embrace his son. Will raised an eyebrow in surprise. This was not the reaction he had been expecting. Will scanned the area for the bodies of those slain but saw none. His parents must have disposed of them while he was gone. Peering at the starlit sky, Will realized that he had been gone for a long time.

  “You’ve been accepted into Bladebeard Academy,” his mother added. “Harold sent word with raven, a smarter beast than most of its kind to have been able to find us here. Yesterday, Harold sent his report to the Academy. The Blademaster there reviewed it and gave Harold leave to inform us of your acceptance. Frankly, I’m surprised he got it done this quickly.”

  “That Blademaster was never known for his haste; Will must have been admitted beforehand as Harold had predicted. A greater honor still for the young Stormhand,” Matthew said, beaming. “You will grow to become a great hero, Will.”

  “What of the attack on the house? None of this,” Will indicated the ruined house, “bothers you?”

  “Bothers me?” Matthew said incredulously. “This assault angers me more than you can understand, believe that, boy. But you’ve been requested to join the top military academy in the Empire; I’m not going to be discouraged by a visit from uninvited guests. This house can be rebuilt. It was too small anyway.” Elizabeth nodded her agreement.

  “I’ve murdered that man,” Will said, ashamed and scared of the consequences. “Who were they? And Mum, did you use magic to slay that other one?” Will suddenly felt as if he didn’t know who the people in front of him were. Matthew frowned at his questions.

  “William, to protect is the greatest service a man can perform for those he loves. It is not murder when you break an enemy’s tie to the physical world in order to save the ones you love. Your grandfather, a wise man and a poet of sorts, said to me when I was a child much younger than you, ‘Boy, one day, when you are grown and your roots securely planted in the soil beneath you, you will be given a choice. It will be the choice that separates life and death, your life, your death, your enemies’, your friends’, your family’s, your people’s. It will be your destiny someday to make this choice, the consequences of which cannot be foreseen.’”