《Prophecy of Magic》 Ch. 1 Battle of The Wolves Prophecy of Magic Chapter 1: Battle of Wolves Arrows whistled through the blood-saturated air and into the fray of battle. Fierce warriors were backed against their own homes by the invaders, and children were slaughtered without mercy. Lycirion felt the true hopelessness of the situation when yet another wave of attackers swept through the village. Berasien, the village¡¯s healer and scholar, stood in front of the bush in which he had hidden Lycirion, with fiery determination in his eyes. The villagers had often teased Berasien for his reluctance to participate in battle and his preference for the indoors, but he was a traveler before he made his home in the village and knew more than a thing or two about fighting. Several attackers appeared before him with grimaces marking their faces. ¡°What¡¯re ya doin¡¯ old man?¡± one of the men drawled. ¡°Did you run from the fight?¡± another asked as he advanced. Lycirion struggled against the spell Berasien had placed on him, but to no avail. There were no spells that he knew that could be used to free himself. He feared that Berasien would be defeated immediately, but to his surprise, the old man had quick and sure movements which showed no indication of his age. He stabbed one of the men in the center of the chest, pulling him in front to shield himself from a few more attacks, and then slashed again wildly at the invaders, refusing to back up or turn away. Lycirion immediately recognized the actions meant to protect him, and he struggled all the more against his invisible restraints. The battle lasted several more minutes as more invaders appeared to join the attack, but Berasien remained standing, he faced off with the final warrior, a woman dressed in red. It would have been an even match if it weren¡¯t for the exhaustion Berasien felt, partly from fighting, and partly from holding the binding spell on Lycirion. ¡°You are a worthy opponent.¡± The woman declared, tossing her dark hair over her shoulders. ¡°Come.¡± Berasien didn¡¯t need any more invitation, he charged forward recklessly, but she simply danced nimbly out of the way and moved behind him in front of the bush where Lycirion crouched. She quickly reached in between its leaves to draw out the boy, relishing the look of pure fear in Berasien¡¯s eyes. That is, until her gaze caught Lycirion¡¯s. Lycirion was a young child of about eleven, but in his tribe, children started learning the arts of war around age five. He was the most promising of the children, being both intelligent and strong, but he also held a darkness in those eyes, an evil that sent a chill down even Berasien¡¯s spine from time to time. Now, the rage and anger in his black eyes was so dark and cold that the woman actually dropped him when she saw it. ¡°You-,¡± she is cut off by Berasien as he rammed into her side, simultaneously digging his knife into her gut. She pushed him away and clutched her stomach, the boy forgotten. Quickly, the woman managed a quick slash at Berasien¡¯s neck, which was undefended. The old man crumpled, and a second later, the spell on Lycirion was released. Lycirion leapt from the ground where he was dropped as soon of the weight of the spell disappeared. He approached Berasien, all the while muttering the only healing spell he learned. Instinctively, he knew that the spell wouldn¡¯t work, Berasien wouldn¡¯t have let the binding spell go if he wasn¡¯t already dead. Before Lycirion even had a second to mourn, the woman swung a blade towards his head. He easily deflected it with his own and slashed at her already wounded stomach with a lethal blow. She was dead in seconds. Lycirion didn¡¯t even look at her, he turned to Berasien again. Lycirion bowed his head as he remembered days long past of Berasien teaching him, and encouraging him to develop his intellect alongside his strength. Berasien was the only one in the village that saw value in knowledge as well as fighting, and had been a friend and intellectual companion. His own parents were powerful and amazing warriors and very proud of their strong son, but he didn¡¯t have as close relation to them as he did Berasien. Still, they were family, he resolved, and he would join them in battle. He stood up from his crouch over Berasien¡¯s corpse with a snarl, you are a warrior now, not a child. This is no time to wallow. He left behind Berasien¡¯s body without a second glance, heading determinedly to the closely gathered huts in the center of the village. The few fields in the village were trampled and nearly unreturnable, many huts had been burned, and the bodies of other children were caked in blood and dirt, some with weapons still in hand. Lycirion felt shame rise up inside him at having been cowering while the other children fought, if only it weren¡¯t for that binding spell. Berasien must have known that he would jump at the prospect to protect the village; he supposed Berasien had only been trying to protect him. He wasn¡¯t grateful. Lycirion came upon his own hut, his mother and father¡¯s bodies were splayed out before it, blood covered their blades and armor (most of it not their own), and angry scowls marred their faces, even in death. He only had to take a quick look inside the hut to see that, as expected, his younger sister was also slaughtered, laying defenseless upon her child¡¯s mattress. Seeing he could do no more for them, he moved on, creeping silently through the village and holding his sword at the ready. The remaining invaders stood at the opposite side of town, near the forest and Lycirion noted with satisfaction that their original fleet of about four hundred had dwindled to a mere seventy or sixty. That satisfaction dissipated, however, when he caught sight of fifteen or so men and women from his village huddled together in the center of them. Most of them were crying, but a few kept their spirit about them, despite none of them having been warriors. Most of them were village prostitutes, chefs, or apprentices for other jobs. No doubt they hadn¡¯t learned to fight, and normally they would be protected by the warriors, but¡­ ¡°I¡¯ll present them to the master, I think he¡¯ll like them,¡± one of the invading men murmured, referring to the villagers with a lecherous grin. Lycirion realized that those captured were all the youngest and most attractive of the non-warriors with some as young as ten years old; he felt his stomach churn. ¡°Who cares if he likes them? They¡¯ll warm our beds for one night, then we¡¯ll kill ¡®em.¡± one of the female invaders snarled. Those of the villagers that had kept their heads high now drooped. Fear silenced their anger, and they had now become nothing more than cattle. Lycirion turned away in disgust, to him, it seemed that they had thrown away their pride as members of the village. Just then, one of the invaders came from the forest, shouting urgently, ¡°I found the Wolfmaster!¡± Another one followed after him with a familiar face in tow. La¡¯ram, the Wolfmaster, was undoubtedly the most important man within the village. The secret to the power of Lycrion¡¯s village lay in the use of wolves as fighting companions, and each of the warrior families had a wolf of their own. Every day, the Wolfmaster took the wolves out to hunt and train for battle, which had been the reason the wolves were gone from the village, resulting in the terrible slaughter. In short, it was the arrogant belief that none would dare attempt an invasion into their village with all of the villager¡¯s battle prowess which led to Lycirion¡¯s village¡¯s demise. In any case, the only one that the wolves listened to other than their corresponding families was La¡¯ram, though an order of La¡¯ram would override any familial ties. La¡¯ram could leave the wolves off their leash any time, and they would still obey, but the families never took off the leash (with an exception to battle) because the wolves were wild first and foremost, and were prone to eating children who came too close. The wolves were nowhere to be seen, and La¡¯ram looked grim. ¡°Where are the wolves?¡± one of the invaders asked. ¡°Over here.¡± The one holding La¡¯ram answered. Unluckily, La¡¯ram had chained the adult wolves while he was training a few pups in the forest. The pups had been slaughtered and the adult wolves were trapped by a lock which only La¡¯ram had the key to. La¡¯ram¡¯s capturer had already noticed the wolves held just inside the forest, a bit away from the village, and he led two invaders, one who seemed to be a commander, and the other the second-in-command, to them. The wolves were chained to metal posts, because ordinary rope and wood would snap under their great strength. The invaders stared at them appreciatively, seeing their black and silver fur, strong muscled builds, and vicious fangs. ¡°We¡¯ll take them as our own.¡± The chief ordered. ¡°They won¡¯t listen to you¡­ you murdered their families. They¡¯re smart enough to know that.¡± La¡¯ram spat angrily. The second-in-command turned to him curiously. ¡°Can¡¯t you still control them?¡± the second-in-command wondered. ¡°I won¡¯t command them for you.¡± La¡¯ram said, with a dark glint in his eyes. ¡°Then they¡¯re no use to us.¡± The chief decided. He nodded to his second-in-command. ¡°Kill them.¡± ¡°Yes, Chief Roike.¡± The second-in-command agreed, stepping towards the wolves with knife in hand. La¡¯ram lashed out against the man holding him in place, but he was being held by powerful restraints. Lycirion itched to free the Wolfmaster and fight off the invaders, but he knew that the two of them weren¡¯t enough, and he wouldn¡¯t be able to get close enough to free the wolves without the invaders noticing him. He continued to weigh his options, and unfortunately, he then learned that inactivity could be lethal. The second-in-command had slit the throat of one of the wolves, and she held the next one down just as she had the first, but this time, the wolf freed itself from the woman¡¯s grip and locked his jaw around her throat. Another wolf grasped her arm with his teeth and tore it off completely. The scent of blood spurred the wolves into action, and they began to tear apart and eat the woman¡¯s flesh. The other two invaders watched silently, not daring to intervene. La¡¯ram started to laugh deliriously, and Lycirion felt sadness at seeing the once proud man overcome with misery, ¡°You see? You can kill our families, but-!¡± The chief interrupted his speech by removing the man¡¯s head with a swift swing of his blade. ¡°Leave the wolves and follow me.¡± Roike ordered, and the invader who had been holding La¡¯ ram dropped the corpse, following after. ¡°But the master said to kill everything, shouldn¡¯t we check for survivors?¡± ¡°Who cares? He¡¯ll be pissed if we¡¯re late. Besides, this is a village of prideful warriors, none of them would have run from battle. Even if one did, who cares about a coward so gutless he would run while his family was slaughtered? Let¡¯s go now.¡± Roike said, motioning for the other invader to follow. Lycirion felt a dash of red-hot anger burn his stomach and chest at Roike¡¯s words. He dragged himself out of the shadows just as the invaders disappeared into the forest. With his anger still burning inside him and images of Berasien and his mother¡¯s and father¡¯s bodies in his mind, he went to the wolves. As they were still eating the woman, they took no notice of him, until he sprung the lock which held the first ten of them in place. Slowly, one wolf turned and gazed at him emotionlessly. Lycirion freed the other wolves just as the first group had finished their meal, licking their chops. One of the wolves started to follow the invaders at a leisurely pace and the rest began to trail behind it. Lycirion wanted to shout at them to run, but he had often been told by the Wolfmaster not to excite the wolves lest he wanted to lose an arm¡­ or worse. The last of the invaders had already fled into the forest by the time the wolves and Lycirion got to the south entrance of the village. He expected the wolves to catch a trail or something, but they trotted with the same casual gait into the village. The first wolf to arrive promptly tore into the corpse of the nearest villager, starting with his left leg. The other wolves followed suit until they all had taken large portions of each villager. It was then that Lycirion noticed that there were no corpses from the invader¡¯s side in the village, but he had no time to think too deeply on the subject. He rode on the disgust and anger in his chest as he pounced onto the nearest wolf, severing its head with his blade. Out of the corner of his eye he saw another wolf trying to eat a little boy he recognized from around town, Moia was his name... Lycirion leapt onto the wolf¡¯s back and buried his hidden blade into its side. The beast snarled, and quickly twisted until the boy¡¯s grip loosened. With a final fling, Lycirion was deposited into the dirt. In the process, the wolf¡¯s wound became more severe, and blood gushed onto the dry dirt. Lycirion expected the wolf to run and preserve its life, but the wolf rounded on him again, deciding to use his last breath to kill him. With a startled shout, the boy was pinned, and the wolf¡¯s claws had dug deep into his shoulders. Not enough to kill him, but just enough to leave a nasty scar. Thankfully, Lycirion was able to hold the wolf¡¯s mouth away from him using his blade, but he had accidently pulled it in such a way that he was holding the blade and pointing the handle at the wolf. As it was his lifeline, he gripped the blade so tightly, blood dripped down his palm. In this moment of weakness, and at the smell of fresh blood and fear, all 96 of the village¡¯s wolves turned to him, jumping at the chance of fresh meat and a good hunt. The one he was holding away seemed to decide the handle wasn¡¯t dangerous, he grasped it between his teeth and pulled it easily out of the boy¡¯s grip. There was a second¡¯s pause between the wolf taking the sword and the wolf trying to pin Lycirion completely again. Of course, Lycirion used this moment to the best of his ability, he ripped his shoulders out from underneath the monster¡¯s claws and thrust his hand into the wound his blade had caused. The beast howled in agony, but Lycirion made no notice of it, he merely continued to blindly rip apart the edges of the open wound until he eventually pulled out something vital and the wolf stopped squirming. The corpse dropped on top of him and he pushed it off with a growl. As soon as he stood, all his lessons came back to him now as he readied his stance, prepared to fight off all the wolves if he had to. At first they were eager. Two leapt for Lycirion at once with their jaws wide and saliva shining off their pure white fangs. With ease of practice, he slit the throat of one and pinned the other, quickly scooping out its heart. He barely had time to register the third wolf which had jumped from behind and raked its claws down his back. Lycirion immediately dropped onto his back, crushing the wolf. It didn¡¯t let go, so he pulled an arrow which was conveniently laid near his head, from the ground and stabbed the arrow head into where he approximated the heart to be. The wolf was still clawing at his back, so he began to stab the wolf into its own wound repeatedly, twisting the sharp arrow point to deliver the most damage. The wolf let go. Four, five, and six more wolves attacked. Four, five, and six wolves were dead. Pain and exhaustion was starting to seep into his bones and his knees began to shake. His movements were slower and more muddled as his wounds began to hinder him. Quickly, twenty wolves were dead, but 76 still remained standing, albeit more cautious than their predecessors. Eventually, they seemed to realize Lycirion was exhausted, and they began to close in on him. A blue-eyed wolf which got too close had its throat slit ruthlessly, and the others began to back up. Lycirion finally resolved that this was the best option: dying whilst surrounded by his friends and family as a warrior. No one would shame him for dying while pitted against these powerful creatures. This thought came first from a life full of battle conditioning, but his second thought came from his instinctual side: He needed to survive, even if that meant running away. These two ideas fought for dominance in his head. A few of the wolves seemed to smell his hesitation and the slight sting of fear within him. One began to eat one of the corpses in an act of defiance. Two thoughts were shoved aside, and a third one, pushed through. With an animalistic roar, he descended onto the nearest wolf, pinning it to the ground. It struggled and growled, but it didn¡¯t whimper. A faint smile played on Lycirion¡¯s lips as he bent over and sunk his teeth into the back of the wolf¡¯s neck. It wasn¡¯t hard enough to seriously injure, but the wolf stilled at the sign of dominance. Lycirion straightened and looked the wolf straight in the eye, keeping his swords down and unthreatening. To his satisfaction, the wolf lowered his eyes, bent down so the belly brushed the dirt with its tail between its legs and bared its neck. He turned away from the wolf and took long, confident strides towards the Wolfmaster¡¯s body, which he noted hadn¡¯t been touched. He pulled a small flute from the Wolfmaster¡¯s coat, and studied it for a moment. The wolves had followed him, so they now all crouched nearby. With tender care, he played the only tune he knew from watching the Wolfmaster. Somehow, he made it through the short arrangement of notes without squealing or faltering. At the sound of it, the wolves all migrated towards the posts they had been tied to before. He had warped the locks on the chains while freeing the wolves, so he couldn¡¯t chain the wolves again, but he brought them the bodies of the other wolves he had killed to eat while he tried to find food in the village. Unfortunately, the meat and crops which were already stored had been stolen, and Lycirion was just barely able to catch a rabbit with his wounds bothering him. The wolves stayed in place, so he looked through the healing hut for medicine to apply to his wounds and bandages. He learned enough about healing from Berasien to bind his wounds properly. He cooked the rabbit far away from the wolves, because he knew that fire agitated them and often prompted them to attack. The Wolfmaster gave them that instinct so that is our enemies attempted to use the wolf¡¯s fear of fire against them, they would be in for a ¡®rude awakening¡¯, as he had said. Whatever that meant. When he had eaten and his wounds had become numb, he started to feel the pull of sleep. Somehow, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to sleep in any of the huts, especially with the bodies lying around everywhere. Besides, he didn¡¯t want to feel trapped, helpless. Instead, he made himself a makeshift shelter with a bed made of leaves and grasses, covered with a ragged (but blood free) cloth. He felt he had barely dropped into unconsciousness when he sensed a presence uncomfortably close. The soft growling sound was his only warning before he was attacked. The wolf had dug its claws into Lycirion¡¯s chest. It didn¡¯t move, seeing he was awake, only staring silently. Lycirion kicked it in the stomach. The wolf hit the dirt with a thump and whined. He pulled out the flute again and played the tune he knew. Slowly, the wolf trotted away, but Lycirion still found he was nervous about the encounter. He followed the wolf back to the posts with the intention of killing off all the wolves at the same time. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. They were too dangerous, and likely to kill him the moment he let his guard down. But he saw something interesting when he entered the clearing: a female wolf giving birth to pups. New additions to the pack. Lycirion sat down beside her, and she began to inch away in fear for her and her children¡¯s life. Lycirion ignored that and instead placed a gentle hand on her side. She stilled just as she birthed the first pup, and Lycirion held the baby wolf gently. This was what was left of his family, and in that moment he vowed to defend them until his last breath. {Four Years Later} Lycirion placed the rock on the book and set it down. He focused intently and put his hands out in front of him. In a single blast of fire, he easily incinerated the entire tree in ten seconds. Now, he no longer needed to chant for his magic to work, and he was very proud of that. He had learned many spells from the books Berasien left behind, and even a few other things about healing and such. The spells he learned he intended to use for combat, but they took too long to work properly, so he had mostly relied on his sword. He had killed a few bears with the help of the wolves using magic though. Thinking of the wolves, his favorite, and the first of many which he had witnessed being born, Shikra, nudged his side. Lycirion bent down and looked into Shikra¡¯s eyes to see a warning of danger there. Without hesitation, he stored his books and left the ¡®library¡¯ with Shikra. After all, his wolf¡¯s instincts were never wrong and they had often helped him get out of sticky situations. He whistled a soft tune to the other wolves which meant, ¡®stay in the woods¡¯. Since most of them were hunting anyway, it didn¡¯t take long to empty the village just in time for the potential enemies to enter. They rode huge powerful animals which Lycirion had never seen before, but he recognized as ¡®horses¡¯. Apparently, there had been a powerful tribe which rode horses not long ago, but they were wiped out by Lycirion¡¯s tribe, so these men must be from the ¡®Kingdoms¡¯. Lycirion didn¡¯t know much about the Kingdoms, since no one in the tribe spoke of them, but he had read a bit about them in Berasien¡¯s books. There was supposedly something called, ¡°St. Andfrea¡¯s Academy¡± there where the nobility learned magic. It was also the only place where all the Kingdoms came together for anything other than war. Anyway, the men on horseback wore elaborate armor with strange designs on it which resembled magical text. Lycirion suddenly realized just how sloppy his own armor was, which he had made himself (making clothes is not his strongest point). It was made of bits of leather and steel melded together to protect his biggest weak spots. His hood was attached with plates of metal to make it more like a helmet and his armor long sleeves, patchwork gloves, and worn boots. It was nearly impossible to see what he looked like, and his age could only be guessed at (unless he spoke). It was useful against the occasional group of bandits or other criminals which tried to take over his village. Or rather, what was left of it. But these men didn¡¯t look like criminals. And as they neared, Lycirion saw that there were several men trotting beside them on foot in much less ornate dressings. Maybe they were servants? Then, the final man on horseback trotted into view. Unlike the others, he wore long robes and he had blond hair where the others had brown. Somehow, Lycirion could tell just from looking at him that this man was like him: he radiated magic. The group stopped in front of the graves which marked the places where the villager¡¯s bodies lay. A couple of the men shuffled uneasily at the sight of them. ¡°I thought the savages burned their dead.¡± One of the men murmured in a language he had learned from Berasien, but had mostly forgotten. Berasien had said it was ¡®the most important language to know¡¯. Could Berasien see the future? Lycirion wondered. ¡°Too many must have died at once. Not enough time to burn¡­¡±a second man intoned gravely. ¡°Wars? Illness?¡± one third piped up. ¡°Whatever it was, someone must have buried the bodies.¡± The sorcerer concluded darkly. The men fell silent at those words, and there was some more awkward shuffling as the leader of the procession dismounted his horse and glanced around. Lycirion noticed that this man had an air of command around him the others didn¡¯t. Not even the sorcerer. The leader scoffed ¡°No one has been here for years, you bunch of cowards,¡± He pointed his finger, ¡°Take some wood from the huts that isn¡¯t damp and burn it. We¡¯ll need light and heat before nightfall.¡± He spoke in a clear, authoritative tone which reminded Lycirion of his father. He shook his head as a feeling of nostalgia clouded his consciousness. No time for that now. The other men said nothing. They dismounted and started to take apart the huts with ease and nonchalance. As if they weren¡¯t tearing down the homes which once held Lycirion¡¯s friends and family. As if they didn¡¯t disable the only proof of livelihood which had been left behind. There was an unexpected surge of anger in his chest. He would have thought that, by now he had gotten over his village¡¯s destruction. It was with this anger controlling him that he stepped out from the cover of the forest. Shikra came at his heels. They always worked together after all. The other wolves reacted similarly, silently surrounding the village with their numbers of 105. The men in armor and servants continued gathering wood and unloading the packs on the horses obliviously. Only the sorcerer and leader stood by while the others worked. Just as Lycirion had stepped close enough to be seen by the men, the sorcerer straightened. He swiveled and angled his head, as though he were trying to hear something. The men around him looked curious, but said nothing and they continued their work. The sorcerer murmured absently, ¡°The village is surrounded¡­¡± He sounded rather uncaring about it, and that irked Lycirion for some reason. He stepped ever closer, and finally, the leader noticed him. ¡°You there¡­ who are you? A villager?¡± Lycirion didn¡¯t respond, ¡°What happened here?¡± What right did this man have to ask what happened? He¡¯s taking stealing from the graveyard! Lycirion fumed. At this point the servants who were starting fires looked up curiously. ¡°Who is surrounding us? The other villagers?¡± The servants began to become agitated. The sorcerer spoke up again, ¡°No¡­ They are not people. They are... wolves.¡± He seemed less distracted as he said these words. The nervous men and servants relaxed at the mention of wolves. ¡°Well that¡¯s fine, then.¡± One of the men in armor said. He had already taken down enough wood for his own fire was seated next to the sorcerer. A servant began to brush the man¡¯s hair carefully with his head bowed. ¡°If it¡¯s just wolves, I mean.¡± Lycirion felt insulted that he did not see the prized battle wolves as threats. No doubt one battle wolf was worth three of him easily. With an uncharacteristic impulsiveness, he hissed, ¡°They are no ordinary wolves.¡± He paused, but decided that the damage was done and it would be better to use the situation to his advantage, ¡°They are battle wolves: the most ferocious beasts in the land. They also have a craving for human flesh.¡± Well, that was true. The leader laughed, ¡°Oh, it is just a boy. Battle wolves, eh?¡± He chuckled, ¡°Nothing to the knights of the academy.¡± ¡°Or the future Great Magician of Lore.¡± The sorcerer added. Lycirion scowled, ¡°We¡¯ll see about that.¡± He huffed and whistled a sharp tune to the wolves. An order to advance on the humans they had trapped. Like clockwork, the wolves were in place; closing in on the unaware humans with magnificent choreography. The servants scrambled back in surprise at the sudden appearance of the wolves. Their eyes glowed with something similar to malice, but it was really just hunger. Their lean frames held powerful muscles and their fangs jutted out irregularly. Their claws were unnaturally long and sharp. One of the villagers whimpered and murmured something about the wolves being huge. Lycirion grinned in satisfaction at their fear. Finally, he had their attention. This was never a problem before. ¡°Why are you in my-,¡± The boy corrected himself, ¡°our village.¡± The sorcerer held up his hands in surrender, but Lycirion frowned when he didn¡¯t smell any fear from him. ¡°We¡¯re not here to cause harm to your village or your wolves.¡± ¡°Then why?¡± Lycirion wondered why he asked. Why didn¡¯t he just kill them already? But¡­ the man had magic like him. Maybe if he was cunning, he could learn how to use magic more efficiently. He might never meet another magic-user again. ¡°We¡¯re from the Academy¡­ oh,¡± the sorcerer paused and tilted his head with a look of pity, ¡°an academy is a place where -¡° ¡°I know what it is.¡± Lycirion interrupted irritably, ¡°What about the Academy?¡± The sorcerer looked momentarily surprised, ¡°There is an illness there. It¡¯s infected most of the students and faculty. We hear there is a phoenix in these woods and we were hoping-.¡± ¡°The phoenix is not here for your use; it is the protector of these woods. Taking it would make you an enemy of every single village in these forests¡­ including mine.¡± The phoenix was a powerful creature with a unique relationship with the villages and their people. It enchanted the forest to make the animals stronger, smarter, and willing to protect the forest and its villages. It even occasionally gave away tears to the people for healing, though it had been many generations since something like that had happened. In exchange, the villagers were all extremely protective of their phoenix, and would do anything to keep it safe. Some said that exceptional warriors had been ¡°blessed by the phoenix¡±. ¡°No, you don¡¯t understand, we will pay for it. You can get anything your heart desires if you only lead us to the phoenix. Money, power, women, it doesn¡¯t matter. We only need the one phoenix. It¡¯s meat, and bones should be enough to make a cure for the-.¡± The sorcerer stopped upon seeing the boy¡¯s expression contorted in rage. ¡°You would kill the phoenix?! I don¡¯t want whatever you have, it¡¯s useless to me!¡± Lycirion snarled. ¡°Leave this place!¡± The sorcerer paused for a moment, seemingly taken aback. He murmured something about time and lifted his hands, ¡°If you won¡¯t tell us willingly, how about this?¡± The sorcerer whispered some strange words different than anything Lycirion had ever heard. He could tell, however, that the words were filled with magic. Suddenly, there was a series of growls, and Lycirion¡¯s wolves were dragged out into the middle of the village by an invisible force. Lycirion was proud of the fact that none of the wolves whimpered pathetically, but some of the younger ones squirmed against the magic. Perhaps the sorcerer thought Lycirion would be scared or confused, perhaps afraid of magic, or afraid for the wolves. But Lycirion wasn¡¯t. The sorcerer didn¡¯t know that Lycirion considered the wolves to be fellow warriors. And he knew warriors were always prepared to die in battle. Even though they had been everything to him those past four years, after losing his entire village, he lived solely by the warrior code. As for not being afraid of the magic despite not being half as good at it¡­ well, Lycirion was a bit too reckless. In any case, Lycirion charged. He nearly made to draw his sword up towards the sorcerer¡¯s neck when he felt magic holding him down tightly. That helplessness, it was similar to the feeling he had felt when wrapped in Berasien¡¯s binding spell. That had been powerful and scary, but this was something else. The immenseness of the magic laid upon him was incredible and extremely constricting. He felt the familiar rise of panic in his chest, but he quickly crushed it. Experience told him that fear and panic made the wolves rebel against him. They were, after all, barely kept in check with his power. ¡°Is there a way other than killing the phoenix?¡± the sorcerer asked casually. ¡°¡­¡± Lycirion remained silent resolutely. ¡°I said, is there a way other than killing the phoenix?¡± he repeated, applying more pressure on Lycirion. Lycirion barely managed to keep his face calm and expressionless with the amount of pain he was in at this point. Binding spells weren¡¯t supposed to hurt, right? ¡°Look. We¡¯ll find the phoenix anyway. I don¡¯t want to kill it either, but we¡¯ll have to if you don¡¯t tell us another way.¡± ¡°Release me.¡± Lycirion ground out, trying to keep his voice steady. ¡°Huh? Oh shit! Are you okay?¡± The spell was released and the sorcerer took a step closer to Lycirion, as if to check if he was alright. ¡°I¡¯m fine! Back up!¡± Lycirion held his sword up again immediately, despite the dizziness he felt at being released. He considered how foolish it was to tell an enemy who could attack him no matter the distance to ¡®back up¡¯, but it was more comforting that way. ¡°So?¡± The sorcerer seemed to get increasingly impatient. ¡°You can heal with phoenix tears. They cure any illness and fix any wound.¡± Lycirion answered reluctantly. ¡°Tears...? How do we get tears from it?¡± The sorcerer asked. ¡°You ask for them.¡± Lycirion answered as though it were obvious. ¡°¡­Okay. So¡­ I need you to help us with this. You are a villager, so you know where it is, right?¡± ¡°The phoenix comes when we need it.¡± Lycirion answered vaguely. ¡°I need you to show us.¡± The sorcerer states. ¡°No. Not without compensation. I do nothing for free.¡± Lycirion growled, ¡°What can you give me in return?¡± He wondered if the sorcerer would agree to what he asked. ¡°Um, Money, Food, Women, Land, Prestige¡­?¡± the sorcerer glanced at the boy. Lycirion shook his head at each possibility disapprovingly. ¡°No. Not interested.¡± Lycirion sighed. ¡°What then?¡± the sorcerer questioned in exasperation. Lycirion paused and considered the man for a second. He answered slowly, ¡°I want you to teach me how to do what you did to me¡­ and the wolves. And anything else you know.¡± The sorcerer seemed shocked at the request, ¡°You want to learn magic¡­?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Something like that¡­ well¡­ that isn¡¯t something anyone can learn. You have to have aptitude.¡± ¡°I already know some magic.¡± Lycirion told him rather proudly. ¡°Then, in that case, I¡¯ll try my best to teach you.¡± ¡°Good. Give me your hand.¡± The boy took the sorcerer¡¯s right hand without waiting for a response. He swiftly and cleanly made a neat and shallow cut on the sorcerer¡¯s hand from his thumb to the other side of the palm. The sorcerer gasped in pain and let out a soft exclamation, which Lycirion ignored. On his own hand, Lycirion made a slightly deeper cut through his glove from the base of his fingers towards his wrist. He took the sorcerer¡¯s hand and shook it firmly. ¡°The deal is done.¡± ¡°That is very unsanitary¡­¡± the sorcerer mumbled looking at Lycirion strangely. Suddenly, the wound on his hand disappeared and he straightened, ¡°Let¡¯s get going then.¡± The wolves were dropped and all of them simultaneously backed away from the sorcerer. Lycirion understood the feeling. The ¡®leader¡¯ of the group, who hadn¡¯t reacted to any of the happenings, ordered his men to ready themselves again. The servants repacked the horses and the men in armor clambered back on. ¡°I thought you were just some kid, but you certainly can hold your own.¡± One of the men in armor said to the sorcerer as he passed. The other men in armor laughed, and the oppressive feeling in the air disappeared. Strangely enough, Lycirion had forgotten the men were even there. Before the sorcerer got on his own horse, he turned to Lycirion. ¡°Sorry for binding you like that. I should introduce myself. My name is Hugh Foxe.¡± The sorcerer did a strange motion of bringing his hand up and down in an arc to his hip and bowing slightly. ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you.¡± He looked to Lycirion expectantly. ¡°I am Lycirion.¡± He told Hugh, deciding his last name wasn¡¯t important. ¡°Wolfmaster Lycirion.¡± It had a nice ring to it. ¡°Well. We should get going then. Please lead the way.¡± Hugh mounted his horse, and Lycirion set off on foot with the servants walking behind him. Ch 2: The Phoenix Chapter 2: The Phoenix They had been walking for days, but there was no sign of the phoenix. Hugh was increasingly more agitated, and the other men avoided Lycirion. Lycirion¡¯s wolves were looking too, but they had searched most of the forest without any luck. On the seventh day, Lycirion looked up into the sky and murmured, ¡°Please Great Phoenix¡­ I need you.¡± The continued to walk for a few more hours, when suddenly, the land dipped of into an unexpected cliff. Lycirion glanced over the edge to see a huge bowl filled with big beautiful plants with fruits and flowers of all kinds. In the center sat a huge regal bird, which was about the size of thirty battle wolves stacked on top of each other. Its plumage was grand and reached out in what looked like fire. The bird seemed to be staring directly at Lycirion, and he had no doubt that this was the phoenix. Hugh seemed to appear beside him and glanced into the bowl also. ¡°Is this the phoenix?¡± he asked. Lycirion could only nod, astounded at the pure size of the thing. How rude! Lycirion froze at the sound of a feminine voice in his head. You never comment on a woman¡¯s weight. You should know that, Lycirion! ¡°You¡¯re the phoenix?¡± Lycirion asked experimentally. Of course! What, do you normally hear voices in your head? She made a strange chuckling sound. ¡°No.¡± Lycirion told her bluntly. ¡°Lycirion? Who are you talking to?¡± Hugh asked, sounding concerned. He didn¡¯t bother answering. ¡°Please, Great Phoenix, this man is a sorcerer from the Kingdoms¡­ He needs your help. Can you speak to him?¡± She laughed again, Of course not. You¡¯re special. I don¡¯t normally speak with humans, and I¡¯ve certainly never spoken with a human quite like you before. I can¡¯t put a talon on it¡­ It¡¯s like you¡¯re more open than the other humans. More receptive. Lycirion looked at her plainly for a moment, then finally said, ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll translate then. Can you understand him?¡± Yes. But don¡¯t you want to talk more about¡­? ¡°Another time. Hugh.¡± Lycirion turned to the sorcerer. ¡°You know, I¡¯d rather you call me Foxe than Hugh, please.¡± He corrected. ¡°Fine, Foxe, tell the phoenix about your problem.¡± Lycirion said. ¡°So you can speak to him, then?¡± Lycirion nodded and added, ¡°Her, you mean.¡± Foxe laughed nervously, ¡°Oh. Well, Great Phoenix, where I¡¯m from there is a terrible illness which has infected most of the population. No one had died before I left, but it is only a matter of time. I would greatly appreciate it if you could give us some of your tears to help us heal our people. Of course, we will give you anything you please in return, including year-round protection from all who dare enter your realm.¡± The phoenix nodded her head slowly. I would be happy to do so, but¡­ Lycirion translated, ¡°She says, ¡®I would be happy to do so, but¡­¡¯¡± I can¡¯t just cry anytime I please. You will have to make me cry. ¡°I can¡¯t just cry anytime I please. You will have to make me cry.¡¯¡± Lycirion finished. Foxe glared at Lycirion angrily, ¡°Are you making this up? Is this a joke to you?¡± The phoenix let out a sharp screech from her perch and flapped her wings. He¡¯s not lying, don¡¯t be a brat! She shouts. ¡°He can¡¯t hear you.¡± Lycirion tells her. She sighs. I know. There was a pause ¡°¡­She really said that?¡± Foxe murmured eventually, his eyes fixed on the bird. ¡°Yes. We¡¯ll have to make her cry... somehow.¡± Lycirion lowered himself over the cliff edge and dropped agilely into the bowl. Foxe followed less gracefully with two big pots in hand. The two approached the phoenix carefully. She allowed them to climb upon her chest and rest there. ¡°How do we¡­?¡± Foxe handed a pot to Lycirion. Talk about something sad. ¡°She says to talk about something sad.¡± Lycirion relays to Foxe. ¡°Sad¡­? Okay, how about this? Once, I had a beautiful mare, and-.¡± ¡°No. Talk about the people with the illness.¡± Lycirion suggested. ¡°Oh. Well. Right now there are four hundred people at the school, there would be a lot more, but all the students haven¡¯t arrived yet. They should be soon¡­ Anyway. I¡¯m the healer of the school. I am the most powerful healing mage that is known at the academy. Yet, my wife was the first to come down with the illness. I thought I could handle it, but it was my own arrogance that lead to the spread. Now, there are many good people. Friends, family, that are infected that might die, and¡­ it¡¯s all my fault. I-I don¡¯t know what to do¡­¡± He took a deep breath, ¡°My nephew caught the illness through my carelessness about a week after my wife caught it. I hadn¡¯t been watching him closely and¡­ well¡­¡± Foxe swallowed, ¡°It¡¯s painful to see the ill people just lying there, y¡¯know? Especially the children, and, goddess, when I left my nephew was so weak, he could barely move, his skin was thin as parchment, and I could do nothing for him. I don¡¯t want him to die, he doesn¡¯t deserve this, none of them do¡­ But I brought this on them, I let things get this bad, and, and what if I can¡¯t save them? What if my wife, and my nephew die?¡± Foxe is the one who looked near to tears. He was almost startled when four huge drops fell into each of the pots. There! Don¡¯t cry! I¡¯m glad I can help. She said. Lycirion told him what the phoenix said, hoping to stop the potential waterworks. It was not exactly the thing he was best at, dealing with emotions. ¡°Huh? With respect, how are four tears supposed to heal everyone?¡± Just dilute it with water silly. It should be enough for five hundred people. Phoenix laughed softly, but you should hurry home. My tears will quickly lose their potency. ¡°She says you can dilute it with water and it¡¯ll be enough¡­ She also says to hurry because the tears will lose their potency.¡± Lycirion explained. Those words spurred Foxe into action. He scrambled up the bowl and sealed the lid of the pot tightly with magic. Lycirion followed at a much more relaxed pace. ¡°Thank you, Great Phoenix. I hope we meet again.¡± Oh, we will. I¡¯m sure of it. She chuckled. Very sure. ¡°Lycirion! Hurry up with the tears, please.¡± Foxe called urgently. With a soft sigh, Lycirion climbed the bowl and handed the pot over to Foxe, who sealed it carefully as he had the first. He then turned to the men in armor, they had dismounted their horses and they watched Foxe and Lycirion expectantly. ¡°We have the tears. Everyone will be saved.¡± He said simply. There was a rise of excited cheers. Many men hugged each other, some hugged Foxe. One man even hugged Lycirion. ¡°Thank you, young one. With this, my dear sister will be saved.¡± ¡°I did it for a reason.¡± Lycirion answered stiffly, quickly stepping out of the embrace. Lycrion had to brutally squash all his instincts to attack when being suddenly held in such a way, even if it was harmless. The men eventually clambered onto their horses and took off at a much faster pace, leaving the servants and Lycirion to sprint after them. The servants were quickly exhausted, but Lycirion had an inhuman amount of energy, and he sprinted alongside the horses. Well, granted, the horses weren¡¯t exactly running, but it was still impressive. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Somehow, it only took them three hours to return to the village. Lycirion contributed that to the phoenix¡¯s magic, and he wondered what it was like to have something so convenient. It was already nightfall, and the men were prepared to run through the night, but the leader ordered them to rest for the sake of the servants. Rather suddenly, Lycirion realized that there were no women in the group. He looked among the servants and the men in armor, but there wasn¡¯t a single one. Lycirion had insisted that no one stay in the huts, so the men were sprawled out around fires on thin bedrolls. Lycirion sat beside Foxe, who was reading a book quietly while chewing on some bread. ¡°Foxe.¡± ¡°Hm?¡± ¡°Why aren¡¯t there any women among you?¡± Foxe turned to Lycirion. ¡°Well, they¡¯d be a burden, not to mention, distracting.¡± ¡°Burden? Distracting?¡± Lycirion was stunned. He knew that some of the men in other villages thought women were ¡®distracting¡¯ in battle (especially the more competent female warriors), but never a burden. How did an entire group of men think that way? Lycirion had been taught from a young age that women made the best warriors. They were often more flexible and had a higher pain tolerance. ¡°Have you not gotten to the age where you see women that way? How old are you?¡± Foxe glanced at Lycirion curiously. ¡°Around 15 winters.¡± Lycirion answered. ¡°Really? I thought you were 17 at least!¡± Foxe laughed. ¡°You¡¯re pretty intimidating for a 15 year old.¡± ¡°In my village, children start training at 5.¡± Lycirion told him coolly. ¡°5? Wow. So the rumors about the barbarians really were true.¡± Foxe muttered under his breath. Lycirion ignored the words. ¡°Why do you think women are a burden?¡± he asked instead. ¡°Huh? Well, they are just too weak to handle these sorts of things.¡± Foxe seemed to wince at his own choice of words. ¡°Of course, that doesn¡¯t make women useless or any such thing, but they are better suited for other jobs, you see?¡± Lycirion shook his head and swiftly interrupted, ¡°No, women make the best warriors.¡± Foxe just shrugged. He glanced back down at his book, then back up to Lycirion. ¡°Lycirion, can I ask you a question?¡± Lycirion frowned, ¡°Depends.¡± ¡°What happened in this village?¡± Lycirion¡¯s face was schooled into a mask of coldness. ¡°There was a battle. I¡¯m the only one who made it.¡± He sighed, ¡°Well, me and the wolves.¡± ¡°Yeah, about the wolves¡­ how do you command them?¡± ¡°I¡¯m stronger and they know it. They will listen to me because of that.¡± Shikra chose that moment to lay by Lycirion¡¯s side. Lycirion laid a possessive hand on the wolf¡¯s side. ¡°He seems to like you, though.¡± ¡°Wolves don¡¯t feel love. I can never forget that. They would not mourn me if I died.¡± Lycirion thought of La¡¯ram. ¡°They mostly fear me.¡± ¡°Really? Why do they fear you?¡± ¡°They attacked me before once. I killed about twenty of them then. Well, Shikra wasn¡¯t born yet.¡± ¡°They attacked you? Why?¡± ¡°The previous Wolfmaster had died, and there was no apprentice. To be fair, I picked the fight.¡± ¡°Was it after the battle¡­?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°How long ago was that?¡± ¡°Four winters, perhaps.¡± Foxe stared at Lycirion in awe. ¡°You killed 20 wolves when you were 11?¡± ¡°Yes. I wasn¡¯t as good at fighting yet, but I was skilled enough. I mostly lacked experience.¡± Lycirion got a distant look in his eyes, not that Foxe could see it underneath the helmet. ¡°Oh¡­ well, I¡¯d like to get some sleep if you don¡¯t mind.¡± Foxe felt the oppressive silence in the air and attempted to escape. Lycirion grunted and stood up, ¡°Till morning then.¡± ¡°Till morning¡­¡± Foxe spent his last waking hours wondering if it was normal for a child to be able to do that, even here. {The next morning} ¡°All right, that¡¯s it. We¡¯re ready?¡± The leader asked his men. There was a few grumbled agreements scattered among them. ¡°Then we¡¯re off.¡± ¡°Hold on a minute¡­ We have to wait for Lycirion.¡± Foxe said. ¡°Look, Foxe, you can¡¯t control this operation anymore. Now that we have the tears, your part is done. We need to get back to our families. So just sit there and look like a doll.¡± ¡°But-.¡± ¡°Where are you going, Foxe?¡± Lycirion seemed to appear from nothing. ¡°Back to the academy of course.¡± ¡°Did you forget our deal?¡± ¡°Deal? ¡°You were supposed to teach me magic. Didn¡¯t we have an agreement?¡± Lycirion showed his cut glove with a scowl. ¡°Oh, well¡­ aren¡¯t you coming to the academy with me?¡± ¡°No. You will teach me here. I don¡¯t want to go to the academy.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± ¡°My place is here. With the wolves.¡± Lycirion motioned broadly. ¡°No, I must go back to my wife, she-.¡± Foxe stopped, seeing no softening in Lycirion¡¯s face(or at least, the part he could see), ¡°I have a duty as a healer, so I must return as soon as possible. You understand that I can¡¯t stay here with that job there, right? Lycirion sighed as if dealing with an irritating child. ¡°When can you come, then?¡± ¡°Um¡­ well, I don¡¯t think I could ever come here. I would need knights, and a healer¡¯s job is never finished and¡­¡± he trailed off with a weird nervous sound. Lycirion nearly jumped at Foxe and slit his throat for daring attempt to break a Blood Oath, but he restrained himself thinking of the binding spell he had been subjected to before. Instead, he began to contemplate the idea of going to the academy. Perhaps he could learn more powerful magic there? That would be a plus. But, he would have to leave the wolves, he knew how people tended to react to wolves. Besides, they would hate being around a lot of people and he wouldn¡¯t be able to control them well. By the time he got back¡­ the wolves will have surely moved on or forgotten him. On the other hand, what would be good about going to the academy? What could he get besides magic? An idea entered his mind. What if he got himself a wife? A woman who was strong and would bear many powerful (possibly magic-wielding) children. He never wanted a woman from another village, because that would be too much trouble, but a woman from the Kingdoms¡­ that might just work. The two of them could bring his village to its former glory. Maybe there would even be other men and women willing to join him as well. If he found enough powerful warriors¡­ The ideas were really churning now and a small smile formed on Lycirion¡¯s face. ¡°All right. I¡¯ll come with you to the Kingdom¡¯s Academy.¡± With that and a nod mostly to himself, Lycirion dashed away. He quickly ran to Berasien¡¯s hut and grabbed a couple of his favorite books and assorted useful items. He tossed them into a discarded bag with a few spare blades of differing shapes and sizes which he wasn¡¯t wearing right then and came back to Foxe. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± Ch. 3 The Academy Chapter 3: The Academy It had been a week since the men had set out and the Academy was nearly in sight. That night, the men were restless, and the servants began to chatter amongst themselves. Lycirion sat beside Foxe and the leader of the knights, Richard Amcottes. ¡°We¡¯ll be there by tomorrow afternoon.¡± Foxe said. ¡°Oh, I¡¯d give anything if it meant I had some teleportation talent right now.¡± ¡°What is teleportation?¡± Lycirion asked as he had asked many questions over the course of the journey. ¡°It¡¯s when you use magic to get from one place to another really quickly.¡± Amcottes explained. ¡°I see. Will I learn that?¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s a rare skill to be able to learn, mostly you would use a Gateway which would take you to a place where another Gateway was.¡± ¡°Teleportation¡­Gateway...¡± Lycirion mumbled. Then suddenly, he stood and turned away. ¡°I¡¯m sleeping now.¡± In a moment, Lycirion seemed to have vanished. ¡°I wonder where he actually sleeps¡­¡± Amcottes murmured sleepily, taking a half-hearted glance around him. ¡°Who knows, the kid¡¯s a mystery. I¡¯m more curious as to what he looks like¡­¡± ¡°Probably like a savage.¡± Amcottes guessed with a snort. ¡°Yeah... You¡¯re probably right.¡± Foxe said uneasily. {The next afternoon} They walked up to a huge gate, the likes of which Lycirion had never seen. ¡°I am Healer Hugh Foxe, returning with Commander Richard Amcottes and his men. I have found a cure for the Academy¡¯s illness.¡± Foxe shouted to the gates. Slowly, the gates eased open, and a large town was made visible. It was all bright colors and activity with women and children and men without any kind of armor dancing and eating and singing and buying and selling. Lycirion was astonished by the happy warm air and the jovial people. It was hundreds of times bigger than his own village and thousands of times happier, even in his village¡¯s prime. ¡°I thought you said the people were sick¡­¡± Lycirion said to Foxe distractedly. ¡°In the academy. This is the city around the academy, Lochmere. The actual academy is in the center of the city. That¡¯s where the sick people are. In only a few days, there will be students from the Kingdoms arriving. We have to hurry.¡± Foxe unloaded the two pots of tears and began to move in some strange cross between a jog and a run with a few moments of slow walking interrupting every couple of steps. It was clear he was trying to appear unrushed, but his excitement to get to the Academy was nearly tangible. The knights handed off their horses to the servants and followed at a much more sedated pace. It didn¡¯t take long for the academy to come into view. It was a huge building which towered over all the others and had large, shining windows and grand staircases leading to an elaborate set of double doors. Lycirion was even more speechless than he was upon seeing the town. The Kingdoms were truly amazing. He had never seen anything so massive, a castle, huh, Lycirion liked the look of it. Briefly, he entertained the thought of owning such an estate himself. While Lycirion was lost in fantasy, Foxe marched onwards without even a second look, he raced up the steps, through the doors and down a long carpeted hallway. The castle was sturdier than any hut, and it appeared to be made of stone. Was this the work of magic? Lycirion could think of no other explanation. How else could they bend mighty rock to their will? His village could create what he thought were impressive weapons, but beauties of this size? Impossible. When Foxe and Lycirion made it to a small office with an eye-catchingly bright drawing of a fox on the front door, the knights were no longer following. Foxe quickly plucked out a huge barrel and filled it with water. He dumped the tears into the barrel and diluted it with water. Carefully, he scooped tiny amounts of the mix into little bottles and set them in two large crates. Bit by bit, until each little bottle was full and the big barrel was empty. He lifted one crate with Lycirion¡¯s help, leaving Amcottes to carry the other (apparently, the other knights and their servants had all disappeared somewhere). And the three of them carried their crates to a large ballroom where hundreds of people were lying in beds and a few were hovering cautiously over them. A man in elaborate robes similar to Foxe¡¯s approached first. ¡°Foxe! You better have something; the situation has gotten worse since you left.¡± The man shook his head, causing the little silver bells strung through his midnight black hair to ring, ¡°There have been casualties.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t come back empty handed, Euries.¡± Foxe assured, gesturing to his crate and handing one of the bottles inside to Euries. ¡°One sip of this ensures a complete recovery.¡± ¡°Where do you get your confidence from?¡± ¡°Those are phoenix tears.¡± Foxe said simply, but Euries still seemed unimpressed. ¡°So you say, but are you sure they work?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll just have to see won¡¯t we? No time to lose, is there?¡± Foxe gestured towards the nearest sick person whom had just began coughing until blood poured down his chin. Lycirion felt Amcottes recoil beside him at the sight. ¡°Alright¡­¡± Euries gave Foxe a searching look before turning to face the occupants of the room, ¡°Healer Bailey, Jonesa, and Kilean, take some vials and administer the potion within to the patients.¡± Euries ordered. Three young healers reacted immediately, eagerly taking handfuls of the bottles and tending the sick. Lycirion reached for one such vial, and found it taken from him by Foxe. ¡°You can¡¯t got in there, the illness infects even the air, you can¡¯t tell, but there is a barrier between the entrance of this room and the patients which keeps you safe now. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Lycirion tilted his head carefully. ¡°But the healers...¡± ¡°I suppose you wouldn¡¯t know, but official Healers cannot get sick due to a special sort of ritual.¡± Lycirion fixed him with a look of interest, ¡°What sort of ritual?¡± Foxe shrugged, ¡° It is a highly taxing and difficult ritual which takes away many of our combat capabilities and returns us enhanced powers to heal alongside a near invulnerability to disease.¡± ¡°What about unofficial healers?¡± ¡°Anyone can learn healing spells to an extent, but one must make sacrifices to use their full power.¡± Foxe explained, sounding eager to end his teaching. ¡°Look, I have to help; Amcottes will show you to my quarters, wait there until I retrieve you.¡± Lycirion was left standing and wondering why anyone would want to give up combat ability, even for healing. Without that, how could you survive? ¡°Come on,¡± Amcottes said, already halfway out the door. Lycirion reluctantly turned to follow, with one last look at the Healers and feeling as if the abilities they had could have saved many people from his village during times of illness. At this thought, he furrowed his brow. Perhaps, he could find one such ¡°official healer¡± and bring them back with him to his village. Clearly, it would be a great advantage to have even one healer in his new village. Maybe an older healer and an apprentice, or group of apprentices? ¡°Lycirion!¡± An irate Amcottes brought him out of his daydream. ¡°I¡¯m following you.¡± Lycirion muttered. ¡°No, you¡¯re not.¡± Amcottes hissed, poking his door back into the room. Lycirion sneered disdainfully at Amcottes childish behavior, but Amcottes couldn¡¯t see it past his mask. So, Lycirion just shook his head and followed Amcottes brisk pace down the hall. Meanwhile, Lycirion took the time to observe the ornate hallways which were lined in complex golden swirls and tiled in black and brown. There were several paintings resting on the walls, each of fascinating landscapes or occasionally a regal family portrait. Lycirion stopped when he saw a painting with a man in it looking startlingly familiar. He was certain that the man was Berasien, his old time mentor and close friend. He stopped in front of the painting and stared at it with awe. Berasien was smiling a sort of smile unlike the bitter smirk Lycirion had often seen him with in the past. Not to mention, he was without the gray hair and deep lines in his face with which Lycirion had been familiar. And there was a little boy sitting on his lap with a bright grin on his face and eyes scrunched tight with a dimple marking his left cheek. Lycirion stared at the picture for a moment too long, because Amcottes stopped and came to his side. ¡°This one, huh?¡± Amcottes said ¡°Who are they?¡± ¡°Lord Berasian and his son Heir Nebias.¡± Amcottes said with a frown. Lycirion noted the slight change in name, ¡°Berasian?¡± Amcottes nodded, looking lost within memories, ¡°Yes, it¡¯s such a tragedy, what happened to them.¡± ¡°And what was that?¡± Amcottes looked hesitant for a moment, but eventually began to speak, ¡°Lord Berasian was named fifth heir to the royal throne through personal choice of the King. Just in case his sons passed, the King did not want the throne to go to his brother. Lord Berasian tried to reject the offer, but, well, no one says no to the king. In any case, a few months after Lord Berasian was named fifth heir, he started, er, being threatened by the king¡¯s brother, supposedly, and eventually he became a target to ruthless assassins, whom he managed to defeat with the help of his, ah, close friends from the Academy.¡± ¡°Berasien went to the academy?¡± Lycirion muttered, to himself rather than Amcottes. ¡°Finally, someone targeted his son Nebias, and ended up cutting off his arm. Berasian was angry and afraid, so he went to the King and demanded that he be removed from the title of fifth heir. The king wasn¡¯t amused and when he discovered the story of what had happened to his son, he took Nebias and locked him away somewhere Lord Berasian wouldn¡¯t be able to find him. Then he pretty much demanded Berasian stay in line to the throne. Berasian searched for many years, but eventually he decided that his son was dead and he left the city with a hatred for the Kingdoms and the King. Rumor has it that he died.¡± ¡°What happened after that?¡± Now Amcottes face darkened, ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s something I¡¯m supposed to talk about really, but¡­ Well, almost all of the King¡¯s sons have all passed under¡­ mysterious circumstances since then, and other than the youngest son, the King¡¯s brother is next in line. The King is also, aging quite a bit¡­¡± Amcottes made a face, ¡°I really shouldn¡¯t be saying this.¡± Lycirion filed away that information for later and decided not to continue on the tangent and instead turned to Amcottes, ¡°Foxe¡¯s quarters?¡± Amcottes looked grateful. ¡°Right, follow me.¡± Lycirion glanced back at Berasien¡¯s portrait and for half a second allowed the feelings of wonder and confusion about this newfound piece of his old mentor¡¯s life rise. Then, he washed those feelings out with a simple thought: ¡®He¡¯s dead now, so it no longer matters¡¯ and followed behind Amcottes with a clear head.