"Winning isn't everything. Wanting to is." - Catfish Hunter
I rack my brain for any solutions to my current predicament. What do I remember about school at the orphanage - about the 3 arcane magics of the Vallonians? I see her face, Ms. Greta Snagglewood, a mother of the Cherry Blossom Orphanage. She was a sour, and rough old woman. Known for rapping the knuckles of anyone who answered any of her questions wrong. Think, Maverick, think. I see her standing over me, looming over a much younger version of myself. "What are the arcane magics, Maverick?"
I leaned back in my chair. "Fire. Ice. And water. Easy."
"And what is the source of their power?"
I paused, unsure. Afraid of the ruler in her hands. Ms. Snagglewood hid it behind her back, and said, "The hits are only for naughty children. Now, be a good boy and think - what would be the source of these ancient powers?" She paced in front of me, the green veil and coif of the women who devote their lives to the needs of orphans, trailing behind her. She is one of the mothers, and my least favorite one.
"Well - " I trailed off, looking down at the book in front of me. There are three dragons on the front of it - the great Ice, Fire, and Water dragons. "I would guess the dragons."
"Yes, excellent." She raised her voice. "Children, you need not fear the dragons. They died long ago. But their magic, however - their magic can be found throughout the valley. In every animal, in every tree, even in you and me." She then leaned over my desk, signifying that I was not off the hook. "Last question. A harder one, but important for all to know. Which magics are faster?"
"Um -"
"Which mages can summon their magic the fastest?"
I rubbed my knuckles, not knowing the answer. Knowing that a crack of that ruler was doomed for my hands. Think, Maverick, think. What mages are faster? The scene fades from my memory.
What mages are faster?
"Fire." I say to myself, turning my shield to the fire mages who extend their fingers, lighting off marble-sized flares that fly through the air like small rockets. They bounce off my shield as I hide behind it, one flare hitting my shoulder and singing right through my peasant's sheep-skin shirt. I quickly blow it out since I currently have no hands free, and see a black mark on my shoulder.
There's not much time. The ice mages are summoning icicles above their heads - the deadly ice javelins. I know that when fired, they explode, shooting shrapnel that embeds itself in anyone unlucky enough to be in its path. I look around, watching the fire mages close in, pull out the whips they strap to their backs. Lighting them on fire.
Cover. I need it. Now.
I rush over to hide behind the nearest column, as an ice javelin flies over my shoulder. Barely missing my head. The weapon of pure ice flies across the throne room, colliding with the wall and shattering into shrapnel. I cover my face, and rush behind the furthest column, as another ice javelin flies across the room, and the third collides with my column.
My heart pounds in my ears. The fire mages start to close in, slowly, deliberately, tauntingly. Taking each step slowly like I'm a deadly and unpredictable predator, as opposed to a lamb about to piss himself. I hear the popping sounds of javelins being summoned, and know that the ice mages are ready for me on the other side.
Then, there's King Eni's voice. "Do you see, Maverick? Listen to the pounding of your heart. Let it guide you."
"I'm not listening to anything you say, you crazy lunatic!"
I contemplate my other options. The fire mages will shortly be in range. Any running risks a potentially deadly ranged attack. The fire whips crackle and singe, and I can feel their heat as the approach, only a few yards away.
"You need a meditative sound, Maverick. The pounding heart will do." Eni calls to me once more.
It's official. I think, as I prepare to follow the advice of the man who is trying to kill me. This is the worst day of my life.
I try to focus on my pounding heart. Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump. I close my eyes. Need to concentrate. Doesn't matter, I'm dead anyway. I swear the more I focus, the slower my heart rate gets. A mist creeps in - in my mind's eye. I see me, running right by the fire mages and yelling. In the confusion, an ice mage launches their javelin, taking out one of the fire mages.
I open my eyes. Now or never. I start screaming, slamming my sword on my shield, and run just out of range of the fire mages. The first reacts, snapping his whip in my direction, but his arm is impaled by one of the ice javelins. He screams, collapsing to the ground, as one of the ice mages blurts out, "Sorry!"
The two fire mages snap their whips at me, and I lift my shield again as they crack down on me. One of the tendrils slaps me across the forehead, and my face feels like it's been branded. My eyes water, as I back up, and realize that the two whips from the mages have become entangled. The mages pull back and forth on them, like two children playing tug-of-war. I watch the ice mages struggle to determine where to launch their next javelins, and instead summon swords of pure ice that transpire from air and slowly sublime in to steam as they're held.
I use the pommel of my sword to knock out one of the fire mages as the ice mages approach. He falls to the ground, pulling the two entangled whips with him. I point my sword at the other fire mage, and he lifts up his hands in fear.
"Stop!" I say, brandishing my weapon at the unarmed fire mage. "Stop right now or he gets it." My voice quakes.
Despite my inability to come off as intimidating in the slightest, the fire mage shakes with fear. He then yells out, "Look! Look sire! His eyes - his pupils - they're red!" He points at me, sputtering, spit erupting from his mouth. "Just like you were hoping! Just like you wanted sire!"
"Enough!" King Eni says. He signals for his other mages to back off, and they dismiss their summoned weapons. As he approaches, I drop my sword and shield. Everything else in the room melts away as I stand, staring up at our tall King. There is an intense seriousness in his eyes, as he looks down into mine. He grabs my cheeks. "Tell me Maverick - has this ever happened to you before?"
"Uh - I didn't know my eyes could change color. No one told me-"
"At night, in dreams, what do you see?"
"I had a dream I was a hippopotamus once-"
"No games anymore, Maverick! You are a nuisance to my people. A scourge on our Valley. You take what you want and never say sorry or do anything of worth with your measly little life. Now for once, be of value, and tell me, what have you seen in your dreams?!"
"Sire!" Interjects Sol. He rushes to the King, placing a hand gently on the arm that is currently squeezing my face. "He is young. Untrained. He does not know of what he can do. Or who he can be. I can show him."
King Eni lets go of my face, though the intensity has not left his eyes. The King and his advisor stand there, staring at me, like a canary in a cage. A minute of awkward and painful silence passes as the King doesn't speak nor look away. He's thinking, hard.
"Your eyes, Maverick. We watched them go from red back to black. It's - unnerving." Explains Sol, breaking the silence.
I watch the guards haul away the injured mages on stretchers. I feel bad for them. I never wanted to hurt anybody. I'll write them apologies later.
"I'm sorry." The King says, touching my shoulder, gently. "I'm sorry. I've waited for you for a very long time. I can have the patience to wait longer."
My mind reels. I went from a trial, to a death sentence, to a hero, and back to a scared kid all in the course of a few minutes. The shock of it all makes it hard for me to speak. To process. Knowing that the King is speaking to me, I reply out of instinct, not out of any feelings I currently have. "I trust my King's judgment."
"Trusting my judgment or not, I'm going to let you live." The King turns to Sol. "Let the Captain back in."
Sol nods and a guard opens the door, beckoning for Lachlan to return. The Captain bounces in, as if expecting to scrape my body off the floor, but when he sees me standing next to the King, I can see his face fall flat. "Need me to cut out his tongue, my King?"
Eni strokes his beard, looking down at me for a moment, before back at the Captain. "I've made my decision. He shall be e-"
"Executed?"
"-educated."
If it were humanly possible for someone to die of their head exploding from pure anger, Captain Lachlan would've died in that exact moment. King Eni patted my back, as if trying to make amends for the awful way he'd treated me. I didn't like him touching me. "Maverick is to be enrolled in our trials for knighthood."
Lachlan snorts, and makes a snide chuckle that evolves into a mocking laugh. "Great joke, my King."
Sol clears his throat. "It would be wise, young Captain, to honor the wishes of your King."
Lachlan pauses. Clicks his tongue. He stares down at me and draws a line across his neck. "You are to obey everything we tell you. If you disobey, or try to escape, we will end you." Lachlan looks up at the King. "We shall have him enrolled in squire training as of the morning."
"He doesn't need squire training." Eni puts his hands in front of him, and I breathe a sigh of relief now that he's no longer touching me. "He should be trained as a Knight."
"My King," The Captain's tone is derogatory. "I know you don't know all our ways, but please. This is ridiculous. No one skips squirehood."
"Sure they do. Maverick has been to the orphanage school. Maverick, what's 99 divided by 3?"
"33." I respond, quietly.
"Perfect. And spell 'apocalypse'?"
"Uh - A-P-O-C-A-L-Y-P-S-E."
The King claps his hand. "Congratulations, you have passed your formal education as a Squire. You are now eligible to become a Knight." Running from the back of the room is the scribe, who quickly scribbles my name on a certificate and hands it to me.
I take it, and enjoy this moment to mock Lachlan. "Seems I get promoted quickly around here."
Lachlan grabs my shirt, roughly, before relaxing his grip. "Come on, then." He grits his teeth. "Let me show you to the living quarters. And you need a bath. You smell like street garbage."
As the Captain leads me out of the throne room, I watch the King's Guard reset the room. They put the weapons back up on the wall, unroll the green rug, and more mages fill the King's court. I try not to think of myself, as a dead body, being pulled away by the stretchers. It appears that for the first time in my life, my wit didn't save me. Something else did. Something hidden inside me that I didn't know was there, and I wasn't sure I wanted to know more about.
I shake away the thoughts as we enter the foyer of the top floor. There, a line of those I wronged led by Malroc is waiting to hear my fate. As they watch me walk out, they boo. Yell at me. Call me awful names. I lower my head, and pick up my pace to walk next to the Captain instead of behind him.
He takes a moment to revel in my shame. "What's the matter, oh mighty Street Brat King?"
"Perhaps they're right." I mutter. "Perhaps I did deserve to die. Perhaps I am a good-for-nothing."
Lachlan leans over to me. "Oh, don't worry there, bud. You've been selected to become a Knight. That, my friend, is a fate worse than death." He stretches as we walk, perhaps finally happy with himself for the first time today. "Prepare for a life of servitude, awful meals, and no vacations." He laughs. "Perhaps this is a fitting punishment for you after all."
