Bellatrix: Swords of Chaos, Book One

By Alex Cannon

Range is the secret keeper of Bellatrix, a god-crafted sword of immeasurable power. He is the Sword’s steward, and charged to protect it from those who would use it for evil. He cannot employ the power of the Sword lest he awaken the mad god who created it.
Evil will find a way, however. When Lazerek, a powerful mage, learns of the Sword’s location, Range finds himself forced from his home, and fleeing to save his life, the life of his family, and the people of the land. Range will soon discover that Lazerek is not the only one looking for Bellatrix. There are other, more powerful individuals searching for the Swords of Chaos.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alex Cannon
• Release date: Apr 24, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458038159

Alex Cannon

I write fantasy and some science fiction. I like stories that are big in scope and epic in theme.

Book preview

BELLATRIX

THE SWORDS OF CHAOS

BOOK ONE

Alex Cannon

Copyright Alex Cannon 2011

Published at Smashwords

CHAPTER 1

The new supplier made Range nervous.

The sun glinted off the supply caravan as it arrived, the wagons and wains creaking and tinking along. Minwabi, the normal supplier was gone. A new man came with a new crew. The wagons had Minwabi’s mark on them, but these were not Minwabi’s men. The leader announced himself as Oxma.

Where’s Minwabi? Range asked.

Range stood over six feet, thickly built, with an open face, and raven-colored hair. But Oxma loomed even taller and moved like predator. A gray hood covered his head, connecting to the robes that dusted the ground at his feet. His face was obscured even in the afternoon sun.

I purchased his caravan. The man’s voice was like a snake slithering through the grass.

Minwabi was not one to lightly sell his caravan.

How much for these bags of marjin spice? Range lifted a canvas sack.He stood next to the largest wain, scratching his chin. It was packed with the typical goods Minwabi brought; spices, utensils, tools, and dry goods.Other Spadix merchants gathered around the caravan too. The sun reflected off tally sheets and bags of coin jingled on hips.

Two coppers.

Range nodded and glanced around. The price was about right. No one else seemed disturbed by the stranger. The other townspeople of Spadix lifted items from the wagons, inspecting them, talking to the crew.That was something else that bothered Range. The entire caravan’s wardrobe was the same gray robes the leader wore. Range saw the telltale bumps of swords and armor they wore under their robes. These men weren’t merchants.

Range shook his head. He was being ridiculous. Merchant caravans had to have men to protect their wares. Having an armed contingent was prudent for any merchant. The roads between towns were woefully unprotected. Spadix itself only had two men stationed by the local baron.

Range tugged a bag of marjin, when he did, the rest of the bags started falling. Range panicked and reached for the other bags. Oxma moved like a cat, sliding by Range, intercepting the bags’ descent. Range hopped back as the man snatched them and placed them back in the wagon.

My apologies, Range said. The sharp smell of marjin whipped about in the air.

It is nothing, Oxma replied. He patted the spice bags back onto the wain.

Range tugged his tunic straight and swallowed.

The thought crossed his mind again…this man was no merchant.He must not let Oxma see his anxiety.

Oxma pulled one bag off and handed it to Range. As Range reached for it, Oxma appeared to sniff him.Or was he just sniffing the spice in the air?Range put the bag next to his knee and opened his purse. He forced his hands to calm. He was being ridiculous. This man might be a retired warrior who decided to become a merchant.As a matter of fact, this man could be many things that offered no danger to Range or his family. He grew weary being constantly vigilant.

Range paid the man and turned to look for Nicodemus.Nicky!

A wiry, weasel-faced man came around one of the wagons. He had thick blonde hair and a ready smile. Nicodemus and Range had known each other since childhood and had moved here to Spadix together many years before.The smaller man now worked for Range on a part time basis and was more family than friend.Aye!

Can you take this bag to Miriam? Range asked.

Did you see the elm wood they have on the back wagon? Cune would pay well for the wood if we could cut it manageable chunks for him.

I’ll take a look, Range said.

Nicodemus lifted the bag onto his shoulder and looked about for a moment before leaning toward Range.What do you think about the new man?

Range looked about, then leaned forward.He makes my hackles rise.

Nicodemus nodded.Mine too. There’s something queer about him.

Act normal.

Nicky raised an eyebrow at is longtime friend.Like you have to tell me!

Range nodded and slapped Nicky on the shoulder.Get that bag to Miriam and get back here.

Nicky took off at a run. Range turned back to the caravan and started inspecting the wares again.

Two kids scurried past him, laughing and chasing a dog.Range turned to watch them as they ran off into the town square.

Spadix was located just north of the coast, on a heavily traveled vein fishermen used to transport their catch up to the capital city of Rommel.It was positioned well south of the Argoth plains, in a small clutch of oak trees surrounding the diminutive Erve Creek.The trees hugged the shops and inns lining the side of the road, creating a welcome haven from the winds that plagued the area. Spadix had sprung up as a simple waypoint many years before, but now was a small bustling town all its own. Inns had emerged to accommodate the growing trade that moved from the coast. Millers, blacksmiths, and merchant shops, like the one Range owned, soon followed. A local baron quickly annexed the town and started levying taxes to the chagrin of the locals.

Range had relocated four years ago with his wife and two young children.Spadix was a growing town where he could get a foothold in and build a solid foundation for his family and their future.

He looked back toward the caravan. An icy shiver crept up his spine when he noticed Oxma looking at him from under his hood.Range tried to appear unperturbed and perused the area, attempting nonchalance.His eyes landed on Lucan, the local priest of the god, Ooln.Lucan was a year younger than Range and had been stationed out here in Spadix. They had become friends in the past four years.

Range waved to the priest, who waved back with a smile. Lucan stood on the front porch of the small temple, more wood than stone. He stepped down to the stairs and pulled out his pipe.He lit it and watched the caravan. Range turned his view back to the task at hand and noticed Oxma watching the priest of Ooln.

There was something calculating in that hooded stare. Something that made Range want to step in front of Lucan to protect him. He shivered the feelings off and turned back to the task at hand. He had supplies he needed to get, and the caravan leader would just have be suspicious.

Nicodemus returned soon after running back to Range’s shop. The two of them carefully selected items they knew would sell.Oxma was pleasant and cheerful the entire time while dealing with all the people gathered around the caravan. He never once displayed anything untoward or overtly suspicious.What bothered Range the most was how the man continued to stare over where Lucan sat, smoking his pipe.

He overheard another merchant ask the caravan leader when he would be leaving town. Oxma informed him he would be here for a few days. He had to make some repairs to some of his wagons.

Range quickly gathered up his purchases and nodded for Nicky to get his.It was time to head back to the shop and get back to work.

He chanced a look over his shoulder and saw Oxma staring at him.

Sucking in another ragged breath, Lazerek crashed down on his opponent, who threw him back with a grunt.The length of the encounter was taking its toll on both men.

Although their movements were not practiced, their speed not great, serious grievances at Akilade had always been addressed this way, two magicians, battling only with swords. To the victor would be life, to the loser death.

You know you won’t be able to keep it a secret, Lazerek, the younger man managed through broken breaths.Others will come after me.

Lazerek stepped back momentarily and then engaged his opponent again, ignoring the ache in his old bones.Yes, and their end will be the same as yours.

The swords clanged loudly in the empty room. It was early morning and most residents of the compound were still sleeping. Light emanated from a cluster of sloppy candles on a desk littered with scrolls and documents.The heavy odors of parchment and tallow hung in the air. The stone floor did little to absorb the sounds of combat. The ceiling stretched far into the darkness above.

Lazerek landed an ineffective blow against his opponent, who countered with an unsteady thrust to the midsection. Lazerek swung his hips back, barely missing evisceration. How Lazerek hated this fighting with swords. Why did he agree to settle this with steel?

More people will find out, Lazerek, the man said.His voice was tired. Neither mage was a swordsman, but once they had entered into the bond of steel only one could escape.

Only you know, and I plan to keep it that way. But was he the only one who knew? Lazerek would deal with that later.It is mine and I’ll be damned if I share it with the others at this school.

We are not your enemy. The younger man wheezed the words out.You know any find of this magnitude has to be reported. You took the oaths just like I did when you entered Akilade. If you keep this a secret, you go against everything we stand for!

They pulled back a moment, both swords dipped toward the ground.This is my find, and I will kill any who dare get in my way, Lazerek said. It was beneath him to share any more information with this cretin. The Sword was far beyond the petty rules of this ancient school. He would not lose the prize because of antiquated standards and oaths. This one person could keep him from claiming what was his.That was unacceptable.

As they stepped into the next engagement, Lazerek brought his hand up to the man’s chest.

The rules for serious grievances were simple: two mages would take up swords and do battle until only one was left standing. No magic was permitted. That kept it honest. Those were the rules.

Damn the rules, Lazerek thought. He flooded himself with the magic and then released it into his opponent’s heart.

Disbelief blossomed on his opponent’s face.You...you… Magic is forbidden…Treachery! he gasped, clutching his hand to his chest.The younger man fell to the floor, twisting the robes over his heart. His sword clattered away. He writhed while mucous bubbled and oozed from his mouth. His body convulsed unnaturally on the floor for a few moments and then stopped. His hand fell from his chest and slapped to the stone floor, his unblinking eyes stared blankly into the darkness.

Lazerek still had many uses for this school and could not afford to relinquish his position yet. He was too close. The death of his colleague must be hidden for the time being. Too many questions would be asked.

Lazerek tossed his sword onto the desk, scattering papers that drifted lazily to the floor. He squatted over the corpse and began to move his hands in a circular motion. In response to his gestures, a muted purple light crept from the ground and began to devour the body bit by bit. The magic obeyed him without hesitation, like it always did. He continued with his ministrations until there was no trace of the body, just a slight powdery substance that he blew away.

Lazerek stood and looked about. The doors at either end of the room were still bolted.

Good, he thought as he stroked his beard. He had made clean work of it.He turned to leave when he heard a soft sound echo through the room–the sound of a scratching boot or a shuffling robe.

Lazerek spun around. He saw nothing. It could possibly be a rat or other vermin, but he must be certain.He worked up an illumination orb to dispel the darkness.A yellow orb of light flared into existence above his head.

He spied everywhere, chasing stark shadows from the darkest corners with his summoned orb of light. He circled the huge desk.Nothing.He looked up at the rounded ceiling high above and saw only cobwebs and cracks. No one was here.

The shadows lurched back to fill the room as he banished the orb with a wave. Satisfied, he left the hall. When he pulled the door behind him, silence overtook the room once more.Only the candles continued to burn, their feeble light not nearly enough to battle the darkness.

In the ceiling high above, a pair of eyes returned to the very thin crack, glinting in the wan candlelight.

Hamilcar was cold.

He rolled over and opened his eyes. His pillow was in the way. He pushed it aside. The window to his room was open and he could see the thick drapes billowing in the wind.

An icy hand clenched his heart and he came fully awake. What was the window doing open? He had made certain to latch it before retiring for the night. He moved to the side of the bed, intending to get up.

The shadow of a man stood at the foot of his bed.

Hamilcar reached for his dagger, but a firm hand caught his arm.He jerked his arm free and sat up, taking inventory of his room.

Three men were positioned around his bed. All three were shadows among the shadows.

What gives you the right to come into my room? Hamilcar asked.

No answer.

Talk, before I call my guards.

The shadow at the foot of his bed spoke.We bring a message, Baron.

The shadow to his left struck a flint and lit the bedside candle.

The three men standing around him were Sicari. Hamilcar’s heart sank.

What is your message? Hamilcar eyed his dagger, hanging on his bedpost. It would prove ineffective against these men, but he would feel better having it in his hand.

The shadow at the end of the bed tossed something at him. Hamilcar flinched but the dark object landed in his lap with no surprises. He picked it up rolled it around. It was obsidian in color and texture. The bottom was smooth, small glistening shards textured its top. It was a rare loqua stone.

Is that all? Or have the dread Sicari added ‘courier’ to their list of dark services? he snapped.

The first shadow said, without moving,"Your partner has found what he has been searching for. He is ready for you to begin. That is the end of the message.

Hamilcar threw his legs over the edge of his bed.Well, you've delivered your message. Now get out! He pointed to the open window.How dare his partner try to scare him?

After the Sicari were gone, Hamilcar stared at the stone and sighed.

The hunt was afoot. He had waited years for this and the time had finally come.

CHAPTER 2

Range and Nicodemus sat staring out the window of the tavern, watching the people crowd in to find seats.The evening air was thick with humidity. The tavern mixed the moisture with pipe smoke and the odors of cooking fish. Range’s large fist clinched the handle of his tankard. They had been at the table for nearly an hour, waiting for Lucan.

The count’s administrator was speaking tonight, and Range had learned long ago that in order to get a table, he had to beat the crowds.Most of Spadix would be packing the house within the next few moments.

Did you talk to Lucan before you came? Range said over the top of his mug.

Nicodemus shook his head.Don’t worry. He’ll be here.

Range nodded.What’s Geinan speaking about tonight?

Who can say?Something’s wrong. You know he never holds meetings to tell us how well things are going.

Count Cassik never holds meetings, friend.His lackey administrator holds them for him.

Correct as always, Range. Nicodemus pulled a durry from his pocket and lit it against the torch on the wall.Its smoke curled lazily away, mingling with the miasma of smoke from the other patron’s pipes and durries.

Range watched as two men hurriedly erected a makeshift podium for Geinan.Geinan himself–always dressed in the richest attire, and never without his ivory cane–stood to the side eyeing the crowd.He wore a green velvet coat over a white ruffled shirt selected to hide his double chin.Range smirked. He had always thought Geinan looked like a fat snake.

The crowd swelled into the busy tavern, and still no sign of Lucan.It was unlike him to be late for any meeting, especially one with friends.

There’s no— Nicodemus started, but the rapping of a cane on the podium interrupted him.

Silence, please.Silence! Geinan yelled over the din of the crowd.You are all here to hear what the Count has to say, so listen up.

Nicodemus turned again to look at Range.The only thing bigger than his arrogance is his chin.

Range nodded and grinned.

The rickety podium wobbled as Geinan gripped it.Very good. Count Cassik is concerned with an individual plaguing our fair city with heinous criminal acts.He paused for effect.I am certain you all know of whom I speak. Geinan looked from face to face.

Range knew.They all did.Range leaned in and whispered to Nicky,Robbing a few gold coins is a heinous criminal act?

The man should be rewarded! Nicky said. They both chuckled.

The thieving criminal Levitin! Geinan spewed the name like a curse.The room sank with the utterance of Levitin’s name.

Levitin was not an average thief.He had pulled off criminal feats that seemed inhuman and impossible.He had stolen coins and jewels from vaults that no other man could penetrate, let alone escape with his life.

Levitin has burdened our land for too long now, Geinan said.The count wants all of you to take active measures to ensure his capture.

Range and Nicodemus looked at each other again.They both knew no one would help the count capture Levitin.The alternative was too great.Levitin would pay hefty sums to anyone willing to harbor him for a night.He had created his own network of homes and businesses that would give him sanctuary.Every noble in the land had established a large reward for his capture.They did not understand the commoner’s view of the thief.Regardless of how much money the nobles offered for his capture, the common man enjoyed watching them get their comeuppance.

The Count has raised the reward to two-hundred gold coins, Geinan continued. Voices rumbled throughout the room.And remember, any who are caught harboring this thief will share in his punishment. The room fell quiet again.If Levitin were caught, his penalty would be death.

Levitin wears black from head to toe. He wears a blue sash around his waist.We are having a poster prepared that will detail his description further.After a thoughtful pause, Geinan finished.If there are no questions… He looked about the room.Good then.The Count and I trust you will all keep a watchful eye.With that, Geinan exited the tavern.Within moments, the room was thundering with voices.

Nicky and Range stood and made their way to the back of the room where it was somewhat quieter, to smoke and talk.You should track him down yourself, Range.That’s a lot of gold.

Range shrugged.Miriam and I are happy as we’ve ever been. The children are doing well in their classes, and our shop is bringing in good money.I’d hate to risk it all for two hundred gold. Besides, he’s eluded kings for years.How would I catch him?

Nicky shrugged, then lit another durry.I wonder where Lucan is?

Why don’t we go check on him?

Now?

Why not?

I would like to have a few more pints, Nicky said.

Range sighed.I would too.

A woman burst into the tavern. She cast about for a few moments in panic and then spotted Range and Nicky.She ran to their table.

Carine, what is it? Range asked, standing.

They killed him! she cried in furtive tones, trying to avoid drawing attention.

Range grabbed her by the shoulders.Who?

Lucan! They killed him!

Who killed him? Range stifled an urge to yell.

Four men! They broke into the house and killed him! She began sobbing on the verge of hysteria.

Why? Range asked.

I don’t know! she said through her sobs.

What happened? Range stood, ready to leave.

Nicky put his hand on Range’s arm and shook his head.Careful. Let’s get the whole story before we go over.

They shared a look of knowing and Range turned back to Carine.Tell, and be quick.

We were at home and Lucan was preparing to come to the meeting.Someone knocked at our door. Lucan asked who it was and they told him to open the door.He asked again and they tried to force the door open.She stopped to wipe her eyes.So he told me to hide in the back room.

You hid?

Yes! She gripped her dress in fists.Why did I do that? I should have helped him!

You would have died as well. Range said.His fingers and toes felt numb and his throat tightened. Lucan dead? His mind flew in ten different directions.

I hid in the back room and I heard the front door crash in. There was a scuffle and I heard Lucan yell a few times.Then it was quiet. I crept to the door and looked around.There were four men and two d-demons!

Demons?Nicky sat up straight.

She nodded.

Then what? Range asked. A sick feeling crept into his stomach.

The men were garbed in black. Their faces wrapped to their eyes and—

Nicky looked at Range.Sicari?

Range shook his head.With demons? Only vile Osaban priests conjured demons. Sicari didn’t have anything to do with demons.

The leader leaned over Lucan and asked him something about a sword. Lucan fought against the demons holding him down. They were ugly, horrible creatures!

Range and Nicky traded looks.Who would be looking for a sword, and why?

Go on, Carine. Range fought the urge to bolt over to his friend, but it was too late for that.

Lucan said he didn’t know what they were talking about and struggled to break free from the demons. The man asking the questions pulled out a long, curved dagger and plunged it into his chest. She started sobbing again.

Osaban? Nicky asked Range.

Has to be.

Carine looked up.What would an Osaban priest want with Lucan? What sword was he talking about?

Carine, do you have anyone you can stay with? Range asked.

I can stay with my aunt.

Good, I want you to go there now. Range said.

By myself? she asked.

Nicky will go with you.

Nicky looked at him, wide-eyed.I will?

You must. I’m finding a guard and going to Lucan’s home.

Carine got up and Nicky walked her to the door.He said something to her and came back to Range.Range, if someone is looking for the Sword. . .

I know. I know.

What are you going to do?

It seems that someone with a lot of resources is looking for Bellatrix.

CHAPTER 3

When Gidas arrived in the town of Shak, he stopped to read the poster announcing the Day of Opening at Akilade had come again. Anticipation tingled from his hair to his toes as he read every last word, making sure not to miss a letter.

People young and old came from all over to test their mettle to see who might be accepted into Akilade and begin learning the arcane and mystical powers of magic.Gidas dug into his memories concerning the Day of Opening and Akilade. He had studied both for quite some time.

Akilade was a school that fostered magic. It is where a commoner with the right talents could become greater than a king if he wished. He could become a member of the most powerful and independent organization in the land. The governing nobles saw Akilade as an uncontrollable force; they despised its power and unrivaled authority.Akilade, if it so deigned, could easily strip a monarch of everything he owned. The individuals attending Akilade were the best trained and most powerful in the land. If it behooved them to usurp a king from his seat, they had the power.Even the reigning monarchs treated the mages of Akilade with modest yet cold deference.

Gidas remembered long ago, Akilade had made veiled threats to certain kings who had either transgressed unjustly against other kingdoms, or were irrational tyrants to their subjects. This was the beginning of what was to come.In the following years, Akilade mages imposed their will on many different monarchical issues.They considered themselves the protectors of the land and quietly began using their powers to gain a niche in all kingdoms. They were extremely subtle. Once the kings realized what happened, it was too late, and they were fearful of calling the mages on their subterfuge for fear of retribution. How dare a king accuse Akilade of such acts? The Akilade used this niche to persuade the monarchies toward what it considered the greater good of the land. The kings were left alone in trivial matters, but the Akilade was privy to everything and the kings knew it. Some of the Akilade alumni, emboldened by their positions of power, demanded people of nobility treat every mage coming to his palace or castle like an overlord.It had been standard ever since. No king had resisted the mages for fear of losing everything, yet how could a king allow Akilade to dole out its own set of standards onto the rightful rulers?It was a delicate balance that threatened to tip.

Although all magic-users were called mages outside the School, there were multiple levels of skill within. The apprentices were called Tirconium and were expected to learn the trade of magic while performing menial the chores and tasks of an institution the size of Akilade.Once a Tirconium learned enough to begin his own studying, he was promoted to Prope Opifex, which was almost journeyman.At this level the pupil could start his own investigations on magic and start plotting his own course.The Prope Opifex was still required to attend some classes but, unless a higher-ranking person had him run an errand or handle some business, most of his time was his own. When a Prope Opifex was ready, the Prope was removed and he was simply an Opifex.The Opifex was useful to towns and baronies where he plied his trade.This is the point where the vast majority of students left the School.They had learned enough to earn a very comfortable living in any town, so few found reason to continue their studies.It was the sad ideals of a people who valued money more than knowledge. It did, however, weed out the insincere—and only those who wanted to become true masters continued in their studies.

After the Opifex showed he was more concerned with the deeper meanings of magic and its sources, he was promoted to Prope Praeceptor.This move was mostly academic, as any who expressed a desire to continue their studies were able to petition the current board of Praeceptors who invariably approved the few requests every year. The final step up was the Praeceptor.

Praeceptors were the masters and ruling body of Akilade and becoming one was difficult. They were by far the most powerful of all members, and answerable to no law but their own.Paid servants and newer members of the school did their bidding. There were many tests and trials needed to become a master mage.Many students stayed at the Prope Praeceptor level, satisfied with their roles. They had near complete autonomy, and lived a good life without the hassles of being a Praeceptor.Currently there were only thirteen members of the ruling body of Praeceptors and hundreds of Prope Praeceptors.

To be accepted into the school one had to be tested on the Day of Opening.

Gidas had come as a petitioner seeking acceptance into Akilade. The poster announced the Day of Opening was the very next day. Gidas could hardly contain himself.Shak was buzzing with the influx of people. Gidas could smell a multitude of foods cooking throughout the city. The odors begged him to come and eat, but he continued walking. All kinds of peddlers, fake magicians, craftsmen, potion makers, and sundry other less-than-reputable, individuals had come to make their fortunes off the gullible people. They yelled their prices to the milling crowd, promising acceptance into Akilade, riches, love, power, strength, and other wonderful things.

It was mostly the petitioners of the school who caught the brunt of the hawker’s goods.They would buy anything—if it helped them get accepted.The peddlers knew this, and preyed upon it like snakes on a mouse.

Gidas moved through the throngs of people and suspiciously eyed the peddlers and craftsmen. The town’s leader was on a podium giving a speech about the great city of Shak, few people were listening.

Ignoring the speech, Gidas saw a would-be jeweler trying to pawn off a worthless necklace to a fascinated young woman. The seller was telling her Benya, the only woman ever to be a Praeceptor, once owned the necklace.Gidas shook his head.He didn’t know who should be chastised more, the ignorant woman or the unscrupulous hawker.

The heat of the day drove many people to the taverns and their shade, but Gidas found them stifling, preferring the outdoors. He spotted a portly man with bright red cheeks selling cold ale under a huge shade tree. The barkeep had set up shop with tables, benches, and a wooden bar, behind which he kept his kegs and tankards.Gidas silently applauded the man’s ingenuity and entrepreneurial spirit. He ordered a draft and sat down on one of the rickety benches. His table would not level as he placed his tankard on it and began watching the people.

The din of the crowd was sporadically pierced by the elated scream of a young child or the raucous laughter of a man who had indulged too much ale.Gidas leaned on the table and began to think about his present and future. He must get accepted into the school if his plans were to reach fruition.He had come too far and worked to hard to fail. What was he thinking? How could he not get in? He would be accepted into the school as a Prope Opifex and would be the most powerful student ever accepted. Gidas drank his ale and relaxed.

The spectacle of Shak was a lot to take in and could easily distract him from the task of being accepted. The buildings looked unkempt and the streets were far from being serviceable.He saw some well-dressed people and a few in rags.The Day of Opening brought out various people from far away cities and towns. A gangly dog, with a small child in pursuit, ran in front of him.Gidas smelled the sweaty bodies as the people moved about.

A slight breeze gently shook the tree above him. Under the tree, the cooling breeze caressed his skin. A sense of sureness began slipping into him as he downed a few more pints over the course of the afternoon. Gidas thought about what would transpire the next day and silently toasted himself.

Many petitioners that night either reveled until the dawn, or did not sleep because of the anticipation. Gidas slept.

The next morning he was up before dawn. Revelers could still be heard outside his room. He ignored the sounds; he was ready and full of energy. After doing his morning stretches, washing his face, and gathering his things, he looked at his blurred image in a mirror and nodded.He then turned and left the room, never to return.

He had a bite to eat in the tavern below: rye bread with bacon, and a pint of squeezed orange juice. The inn was not as busy as he had anticipated; only a few other patrons were seated about the room.Most looked as if they had been up all night. He paid the innkeeper for the food and then made to leave. As he opened the door and stepped out he was pulled into a full field brimming with people. Everyone was up and ready to go. Gidas had not seen so many people in one spot in a very long time. He mumbled something under his breath and attempted to join the river of bodies.

Pushing through the crowds, Gidas tried to get ahead of some and stay behind others.The odors of the previous night’s festivities were in abundance.He attempted to put the smell out of his mind, but once he succeeded, another equally noxious odor would invade his senses.In the crowd he spotted the purple robes of a Platen.He stayed away from her.Her hood was up and she appeared to be heading somewhere in a hurry.

The journey to the School took one hour walking, which is the way most people traveled it. Gidas had decided to walk as well. The road was on a foothill that climbed steadily into the mountains ending at Akilade. The acceptance would begin at sun up, which was about thirty minutes away.

The sky grew lighter. The morning air was cool and breezy, a stark contrast to the day’s heat that would follow. Gidas heard birds begin to chirp and looked for them. As the path took him higher the rocks on either side receded and the trees thinned, revealing glimpses of distant jagged peaks, poking majestically from fog-clad bases.

Some petitioners were still hung over, shuffling along at a slow trod, mumbling apologies when they bumped into others. One drunk bumped into Gidas. He elbowed the man in the ribs causing the drunk to fall over. Gidas could not understand why someone would even attempt to participate in the Opening if he was not mentally prepared.Many people were so afraid of success they