A Darker Shade of Sorcery - - (leveled readers .txt) 📗

fuelled his fear galvanised into fury.

“Watch your mouth,” Sintian’s smile curdled. “I didn’t have to let you back through. I just didn’t fancy scraping what was left of you off the ground. I-”

“Oh whatever,” Evan cut him off, preparing to walk away.

Sintian called after him. “I bet your own family are glad you're in Veneseron now.

They probably hated a talentless maggot, a little worm like you who…”

Evan cut him off again, this time with a punch to the face. Sintian reeled, his head snapping back as he fell to the ground.

All three boys were shocked, but none as much as Evan himself.

With a cry of outrage, Sintian threw out his hand and Evan felt invisible ropes wrap around him and squeeze tight.

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Sintian advanced towards him, hands gesturing wildly. Before he could cast more magic, Evan felt himself free to move again as a voice rang out.

“Enough!”

Sintian glowered as Arnvar strode over, coming between them.

Blood leaked from Sintian’s nose. With a murderous glance at Evan he healed himself with a wave of his hand and got to his feet.

“Wow Evan, you snapped big time,” Jed said, impressed.

Evan was still in shock, but he was resolute. He'd been bullied all his life, and the one thing he was proud of in his former life was the fact he'd finally stood up to Ollie and his gang. He wasn’t about to let himself get bullied here. This was a new life for him, and he refused to let anyone torment him like that again.

“Sorry, Master,” he apologised.

Arnvar noticed their blood-stained clothes. “Tell me you didn’t venture into the Badlands?”

“I was trying to stop them,” said Sintian. “I saw them sneak in and…”

“Liar!” Jed shouted.

Arnvar quelled them both with a look.

“You should know better, Sintian. All your life you’ve been told not to go into the Badlands, they’re for the high ranks only. You especially shouldn’t have taken two rookies with you.”

“I told you, they were the ones who snuck in. I…”

“How did they get in?” Arnvar glared at Sintian. “You’ve learned how to disable the spell on the lock, haven’t you? Severe punishment is due. Ten additional laps around the Fortress every day for a fortnight, and I’ll have you scrubbing the city aquarium clean too.”

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Sintian swore under his breath and strode away, whipping his cloak behind him violently.

Arnvar turned to them next. “As for you two-”

God, I’ve barely arrived and I’m already in serious trouble.

“As you used your weapons for good reason I won’t confiscate them, but one more rule break and I’ll make you wish you were back in the Badlands. You idiots need to learn not to be led by others so easily. Now, did you manage to slay anything?”

“Uh, two Onlekks each,” said Evan, taken aback.

Arnvar looked them over and grunted, “Good, you’re both ready for weapon training.”

*

He and Jed had expected to use their magical weapons and couldn’t wait to get started. However, it was two wooden swords that Arnvar passed to them.

When Jed voiced his opinion, Arnvar just bellowed with laughter.

They were in the biggest courtyard outside Swordstone castle, surrounded by Arch-Realmers wielding scintillating blades in a whirl of motion, too fast and bright to follow.

Neither he nor Jed had held a sword before and their sparring was slow and sloppy.

“Tyrell, Domnican,” Arnvar yelled at the practicing crowd.

Two Arch-Realmers detached themselves from the fray and came over. Arnvar replaced their magical weapons with wooden swords too. “Show them the basics.”

Tyrell paired with Evan whilst Domnican, a pale boy with long white-blond hair, trained with Jed.

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Evan soon learned Tyrell was way out of his league, even if he was taking it easy on him.

Domnican however was having great fun, whacking Jed whenever he left himself open, judging by Jed’s loud yelps. “Ow! Oi! Stop that!”

Evan increased his efforts, swinging wildly, but again Tyrell parried every blow.

“Attack hard, but don’t be careless,” said Tyrell, batting Evan’s sword away as it swung for his head.

Evan changed his tactics yet again. As the minutes flew to hours, he thought he might've gotten fractionally better.

Arnvar returned from overseeing a group of Apprentices nearby.

“How they doing?”

“He needs a lot of work,” Tyrell admitted, “but he has determination.”

Evan nodded gratefully.

“This one gets irritated easily,” Domnican drawled, gesturing at the red-faced Jed.

“How would you like it if someone hit you repeatedly for hours?” Jed demanded.

“We didn’t like it at all,” Tyrell replied. “We all have to start off the same you know.”

Jed grumbled, rubbing his head and grimacing.

“From now on you have a new schedule,” said Arnvar. “You’ll continue your daily run, but instead of a strength exercise you shall train in weaponry throughout the day.

You may go.”

Evan and Jed hobbled away, bruised but ready to do it all again tomorrow. Well, at least Evan was.

The next day Jed and Evan served other Venators their food for the first time. Jed complained heartily, but Evan was just glad Sintian hadn't been there to gloat.

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Weaponry training was great, five days in and Evan was already improving with the sword and getting fitter with the daily run, but he was envious of the other Venators. He yearned to be one of the many he saw around the Fortress performing magic.

Late in his room one night he sat on his bed, palm outstretched as he concentrated on trying to make fire appear in his hands again.

No matter how hard he tried, nothing happened.

*

By the next week Evan got his first glimpse of Venators in action. Monday morning a group of Arch-Realmers came hurtling down the corridor, almost bowling Evan over as they shouted commands to each other. Rumours around the Fortress was that they’d been called in on an emergency mission to Earth as a hiking group were perilously close to a wyvern nest. An Apprentice girl told Jed at lunch the Arch-Realmers managed to save the hikers and capture the wyverns, before taking the beasts back to their own realm.

Then on Thursday, Fortress gossip was that there’d been another emergency mission, where Mid-Realmers raced out of the castles to put out an enchanted fire, started by mischievous goblin teens in Paris.

As no sorcery was coming to him, Evan decided to focus tenfold on weaponry.

After a long day of training, he and Tyrell were just finishing up. Evening had settled and it was growing dark as they battled. Evan’s arms were aching and blood was pounding in his ears. He was running solely on adrenaline as he fought Tyrell with everything he had.

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Luckily, he'd discovered he had a gift for evasion. That night, for the first time, he managed to break through Tyrell’s guard and press his sword against Tyrell’s stomach. He couldn’t believe it.

“I have taught you well, my son,” Tyrell joked.

Evan looked round at the sound of loud clapping, shocked to see it had come from Urkzal. The orc moved out of the shadows to loom over him.

“Well done, Novice. Perhaps you should give it a try with your own blade.” Urkzal gestured to Ruaden on Evan’s belt.

Evan was speechless as he unsheathed his enchanted sword. A thrill shot through him as soon as he touched the hilt. It felt so light, so wonderful in his grasp. He could feel the magic coursing through it.

Urkzal’s craggy face broke into a smile. “Arnvar, test the boy.”

Arnvar came forward, unsheathing his huge axe as he did so. Evan gulped.

Fortunately, Arnvar put his magically shimmering axe on the ground and pulled a steel sword off the wall instead.

“Sparring only, Umbra,” Urkzal commanded. “Your weapon can cut through flesh like a knife through kobold-butter.”

Evan knew his enchanted blade was stronger and Arnvar was using steel to even the odds, but he still didn’t stand a chance. The dwarf’s skill far outstripped his own, he'd be crushed. Worse, a crowd of Venators had stopped to watch.

“I’ll go easy on you.” Arnvar grinned.

Evan couldn’t find it in himself to smile back. His expression probably resembled one of constipation.

Arnvar lunged. Evan ducked just in time, feeling the displaced air whoosh over him, inches from where his head had been.

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Urkzal said to spar, he thought angrily. If he hadn’t ducked, his head would be sailing through the air right about now. Arnvar attacked again, and again. Evan veered this way and that. He spun, he jumped, and at one point he performed a bizarre twirl that saved his ear from being chopped off. What the hell is Arnvar doing?

He leapt back again, but the point of Arnvar’s sword scraped the front of his tunic, ripping a gash in the fabric and almost disembowelling him.

“Are you crazy? You’re gonna kill ‘im,” Jed cried.

Evan parried one of Arnvar’s ferocious blows, but the strength of the hit was so powerful his whole body jarred and he struggled to keep hold of his sword. If Ruaden wasn’t enchanted, Evan suspected it would’ve shattered.

The second time Evan parried, the force drove him to the floor. He scrambled to his feet furiously. The crowd was silent except for Jed, who was being held back by Domnican. Evan saw Sintian in the audience too, smiling spitefully.

He couldn’t keep this up much longer. Since the fight started he'd been solely on the defensive. He tried desperately to attack, but Arnvar didn’t leave a single opening.

Frustration and exhaustion were building within him, culminating to a dull throb in his head. No matter how hard he tried, he was beaten to the floor again and again. He kept getting back up, angrier and more determined than the last time. The strength and speed of his enchanted blade was incredible, but it wasn’t enough.

Finally, as Evan crashed to the ground yet again, the throbbing inside him erupted.

This time when he leapt back to his feet it was his free arm he flung out. A tremendous force of air smashed into Arnvar, flinging him across the courtyard to land with a thud.

Evan froze, stunned at what he'd done. Everyone was silent. Then, for the second time that night, Urkzal applauded him.

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“You show promise,” he said. “Arnvar is skilled enough to control his blade before it struck, but believing you were in danger brought out the best in you.”

Evan stared back at him, nonplussed. A cheer went up from the crowd.

“That was awesome, dude,” Jed exclaimed.

“Have you begun sorcery training yet?” said Urkzal.

“No, Master.” Evan managed to find his breath.

“I think you better start.”

*

The first day of Evan’s magical training began with a hailstorm. The incessant tapping on his window woke him. When he peered out the window, he saw an army of ice balls bouncing off the castle walls and fields below. He hoped it wasn’t an omen for the day ahead.

He gasped as a giant scroll materialised above his cabinet. As he watched, big black lettering squiggled across the scroll: TODAY’S TRAINING SCHEDULE FOR EVAN UMBRA

BREAKFAST

SESSION ONE: ILLUSION