Broken Seal: The Knight Of Flames

By Joseph Thamir

Arthur's life was never the best. Putting aside the years of neglect, the best thing to happen to Arthur was meeting his wife, Glo. Sadly, even this didn't last. When she passed, Arthur pledged to make his son's life much better than his.

Dante's life was, in a word, normal. Thanks in large part to Arthur's hard work, Dante was never left wanting. A normal life was fine for them, and neither of them really needed anything more.

So what would you have done when the pointy-hat witch stopped by to offer Dante entry to the Arcane world? Elves, goblins, and madmen make up anything but a normal life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Nov 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9798889608448

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Broken Seal

The Knight Of Flames

Joseph Thamir

Copyright © 2023 Joseph Thamir

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2023

ISBN 979-8-88960-830-1 (pbk)

ISBN 979-8-88960-844-8 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

The Lonely Boy

Chapter 2

Familiar

Chapter 3

A Pen, a Notebook, and the Proper Wand

Chapter 4

Fire Mage

Chapter 5

Elves

Chapter 6

Witch Hunt

Chapter 7

An Ogre on Third Street

Chapter 8

Mother's Locket

Chapter 9

Duelist

Chapter 10

Midterms

Chapter 11

Spirit

Chapter 12

Winter Break

Chapter 13

The World's Eyes

Chapter 14

The Knight, the Shadow, and the Jackal

Chapter 15

Song of the First Ones

Chapter 16

Rotland Camp

Chapter 17

Heart of Ice

Chapter 18

Go

Chapter 19

Lost to Time and Space

Chapter 20

Normalcy

About the Author

Attached Letter

To whom it may concern,

I am writing this letter as a warning to whoever wishes to open the attached tome. What you're about to read has been declassified only for those accepted into the Minnar Institute for Magical Studies or those accompanying them.

You may think of this tale as a case study of sorts: the first year of a young mage from the Null world and his growth into one of the most influential mages of his time. I was lucky enough to have neutered and witnessed his growth firsthand. I hope that in reading this story, you may find courage or inspiration. This story is of a time before all his greater deeds, before the many battles that would carve his name into the history books.

While I do not have the gift of foresight, I do foresee the contents of this letter and this tome eventually becoming declassified and shared with the public. If that is the case, allow me to lead in one more lesson. It is a lesson that I learned from this man a few years after the events of this story, but it is one I wish I had learned much sooner. It goes something like this. You may have an entire world's worth of people roaring at you to make a change or fall in line. You may feel like an entire world's worth of hate and anger is aimed right at you. Whatever the case, I implore you to stick true to your beliefs and stand strong.

May you forever strive to be the best you can be.

Signed,

[Redacted]

Chapter 1

The Lonely Boy

It was a brisk afternoon, and Dante was daydreaming when he entered the kitchen. So perhaps it made sense that he didn't notice the woman while brushing off the rain from his curly black hair, or perhaps she had masked herself between sips of the green tea in hopes of seeing what the young man would do.

At first, Dante couldn't understand why his father seemed so quiet.

Dad?

The building was silent save for the artificial ticking of the grand clock above the coffee table.

Dad? I'm home. They were all out of that cough syrup, so I got you some…

Meow.

The cat at Dante's feet was as black as pitch, yet he had not seen it until it rubbed up against his leg. His eyes trailed it as it rubbed its face, strolled around the tiled floor, and jumped up onto a stool that had been pushed up against the center counter.

When it reached the countertop, it sat down beside the woman.

Who are you?

Dante's eyes fell finally on the woman who'd been watching from behind the center counter.

You must be Dante.

Now Arthur Chester has had an interesting life. He was born in the summer of 3091 to less-than-ideal parents. They were distant and bitter, and despite always complaining about losing one job or another, they had a habit of stumbling across large sums of money. While they spent days on end off at casinos or gods knew where, Arthur would stay home, study, and do his best not to bring attention to his small house at the edge of Toronto. The city was large enough that he hoped most people would find other places to be and ignore the skinny boy looking out the window.

And most did, but that was the problem.

Out the window, across the almost neon-green grass of the bit of the lawn that had grown around the property and past the white fence, there always seemed to be a pair of bright golden eyes staring back at Arthur.

The house beside Arthur's was just as small and out of the way but twice as rundown and unkempt. Weatherworn was how he described it, and despite the two silver hovercrafts always parked in front of it, Arthur had never seen anyone go in or out of the shack, none but the girl. She'd often hold her left forearm, rubbing it gently with her thumb as she watched him come and go.

She'd never speak to him, and he'd only ever leave his house to catch a shuttle for school or on the rare occasions when his parents hadn't left enough food in the fridge. But like clockwork, the two would lock eyes every day, wave, then stare at the passing traffic until the sun had fallen behind the towers of the city.

And so went the days, months, years.

When he was thirteen, the day-long trips had turned to weeklong trips, and Arthur had grown accustomed to waking in the morning, making himself breakfast, getting to and from school, returning home for a meal, and finishing homework then capping off the afternoon by the window.

At the age of sixteen, on a rare evening when his mother was at home, he asked her a question. She paused for a second before answering.

You seem to be doing well enough on your own. And besides, life's too short to be worried all the time.

At the age of nineteen, he'd had enough. Forging his own father's signature, he withdrew a small fortune, gathered his best-looking clothing, and set off.

Where? Hell if he knew. He'd take a shuttle to the countryside and—

His thoughts were interrupted by a tap on the shoulder.

I've never seen you all dressed up before.

The girl with the golden eyes stopped him just a few steps past her house.

Like my new dress? I saw you all fancy and wanted to join in. She spun around and twirled the ends of the silky pastel-pink dress.

Uh—

So where ya goin'?

North.

North… She rubbed her chin before yelling at him to stay still for a second and darting back into her house.

Arthur stood as she asked. His face was a mixture of confusion and intrigue. He'd never seen her smooth black hair that close, nor did he ever notice how pale her skin was or the faint smell of roses that followed her around.

When she reemerged, she had a blue jean coat over her dress and a black duffel bag hanging from one shoulder.

Okay! Let's go.

Let's…go?

Of course! I'm not gonna let the only interesting thing around here go off without me.

What about your parents?

What about yours?

Arthur went silent for a moment. He didn't even know her name, yet she wanted to go with him?

Glo.

Hmm?

My name's Glo.

Glo…

Just Glo.

Right. I'm Arthur. Arthur Chester.

She took his arm, and the two were off.

*****

Dante, on the other hand, was different from his father. He had a kind but calculating mind and was quick to anger. He was hesitant to believe what he was told and was not shy when making his thoughts known.

So the sight of this woman sitting in the middle of their kitchen, cup of tea in hand and with no father around, had his mind racing.

Arthur came into the room.

Ah, good. You've met.

Just now. She placed down her cup and gave a wink in Dante's direction. You have a very perceptive boy.

Must have gotten it from his mother.

You have your uniform on? Dante asked as he eyed the silver weapon in the holster on his father's belt. I thought you said you weren't feeling well.

Figured the cough medicine would have been enough, but if you couldn't find any, I'll be calling in, I guess.

Not to interrupt—the woman cleared her throat—but when are you planning on introducing us?

Oh, right. Dante, this is Madam Adele Fortuna. Apparently, she has something for you.

Don't be like that. If he accepts it, you'll have to come as well.

Seriously? But—

Don't worry. We have a lot of sway. I'm sure we can get you some paid time off.

Something for me? Dante pushed his way into the conversation. What is it?

"Up-up-up." Fortuna leaned over the table and placed a finger over Dante's mouth, forcing him quiet as she pulled out a piece of paper and a quill from the leather handbag beside her cup.

Arthur's eyes seemed to dart away from the table as Dante watched her brush aside her long brown hair before placing down the paper and quill. She slid back to her seat.

To both Arthur and Dante's surprise, the quill popped upright on its own and bounced over to the sheet. As it moved, it carved out letters onto the paper, and that filled in with ink. Dante read it aloud.

Dear Mr. Chester,

It is my honor to invite you to the Minnar Institute for Magical Studies. You will be given a full list of necessary books, guides, equipment, and contact information to help you succeed in your studies.

Please be informed that you will be the first student in over 1,100 years to come from the Null world, and as such, we've sent Madam Fortuna to clarify any questions or concerns you may have.

Should you decline our invitation, Fortuna has the authority to erase your memory of any and all things magical.

Please be present on school grounds on the morning of the first of September at eight o'clock. We highly recommend bringing a parent or guardian and taking a tour of our facilities beforehand, but this is not mandatory.

Eagerly waiting for your response,

Professor Ghalidif Doldburry and Dean Theodor Ozen

The two Chesters paused for a second as the quill softly placed itself beside the sheet of paper, and in turn, the paper folded itself closed.

Isn't this wonderful news? Fortuna brimmed, clasping her hands together with a large grin. Now I do not wish to rush you, but I will want your response. I need to know if I must wipe your memories or not.

Whoa…wait a moment. Back up. Magical school? Really? Dad, is this a joke?

I have to admit, Mrs. Fortuna, I thought you were talking about a creative arts high school or something.

Oh, right. I was warned that you'd think this a hoax or some such.

The woman stood up, startling the cat. She paced around for a while before a confident spark filled her sky-blue eyes. She started by rolling back her leather sleeves as if to say, Nothing here, got it? Then rubbing her hands together, she spoke softly.

Me…me? The cat leapt off the table at the sound of its name and climbed up the woman's arm.

What are you—

A moment, please.

Reaching the woman's ear, the cat leapt into the air and morphed into a large pointed hat.

The two men stood with wide eyes, but before anything else was said, Fortuna's hand pointed upward, and a gale blew. Dante's bag flew up as Arthur's coat and gear were nearly torn off him.

A moment more, and all was silent again.

What was that? Dante stumbled, trying to catch his bag.

Impressed? Oh… She shot a shy smile Arthur's way. It's not nice to stare.

Oh, Sorry! Sorry. Arthur cleared his throat. So about this school.

Right! Minnar is one of the most renowned schools in the Arcane world. You must be selected by the school itself to be enrolled.

The school itself? Dante pulled the stool out from below the center counter and took a seat.

It had been five years since Glo and Arthur had run off together, and though those years had been some of Arthur's best, Glo grew weaker with every pass of the calendar. The two worked…odd jobs for their meals and made odder friends as they went.

By this point, Arthur had burnt his way through most of his parents' money and with concern for Glo's well-being weighing heavily on his mind, the two decided to return home in hopes of settling down.

Arthur never saw his parents again. Whether jailed for debt or overdosing on luxuriousness, they had truly faded from his life altogether. Oddly enough, even though his home was now occupied by strangers, the rundown old shack, the two hovercrafts, and the white fence remained untouched.

Glo chuckled at their luck, and the lovestruck young man wasn't wise enough to ask further questions. Sadly, he didn't have the time.

*****

The following winter's eve, Glo's health had faded, and with a soft smile, she passed from the world.

That summer had been surprisingly chilly in the city. So while Dante waited across the street from the square on Queen Street as instructed, he did so with a coat over his shoulder and a scowl on his face. Although he wasn't thinking of it, given just how common it was, the square was packed. The crowd was nearly shoulder to shoulder, and the murmur ranged between a sea of sound and a wave of whispering. The place itself was large, flat, and pretty empty. The sidewalks were large, and everything was clearly marked out with bright white paint.

It wasn't long after he had arrived when M. Fortuna appeared, pointed hat and all.

I haven't kept you waiting, have I? She fiddled around in her bag but avoided the passersby as if she knew their every move.

N-no. Dante couldn't help but stare at the hat. So how are we getting there?

One sec…ah, here. She pulled out two rings and tossed one to the young boy.

It was nothing amazing to look at, but Dante took the time to observe the rotating centerpiece and the marks carved into it.

When you put it on, you'll have to rotate the stone in the middle. Do you see it? Three times up, four down, then two up.

Aren't magical artifacts supposed to be sacred or something? Should you be tossing this around?

Oh, hush.

Putting the ring on, Dante felt a rush of emotions. Fear? Excitement? He could not say. With his breath half held, he turned the silver stone upward. Click.

Two, three…

Then down. Then as instructed, back up.

Nothing?

Did I do something wrong?

Looking up, he didn't see the city anymore. The tall buildings, the layers of hovercraft traffic, and the people were all replaced with a soft green landscape. The square that he'd been looking at was now a long rope bridge that crossed a ravine.

The chilly air had been replaced by a warm breeze, and as Dante removed his coat, he asked, So where are we?

Welcome to the Arcane world. I had you use the ring here so you wouldn't appear inside a wall or over that river.

I…see.

That there is the town of Vrathone. Nothing fancy, but you should be able to get the supplies you need.

Oh right, I brought some money.

Right. 'Bout that.

Huh?

Sorry, it won't do you any good. Null money isn't recognized around here.

So how do—

Yeah, I asked that too. You're in for a treat.

Fortuna led Dante across the bridge, and all was quiet. The creaking of the floorboards and the soft howling of the wind were all Dante could hear. Every once in a while, Fortuna would catch Dante's eyes wandering to her hat.

You can ask if you'd like.

What?

About Me-Me. You've been staring at her for a while now.

What is she?

Me-Me is my familiar. Think of her as a projection of my soul.

I don't think I understand.

Don't worry, you'll get it eventually.

Vrathone felt like an ancient town Dante had read about in history classes. All the houses were small, and Dante nearly tripped over his own feet while trying to walk across the stone road. Pausing as Fortuna rummaged around her bag, he was quite interested in a parked horse tied to what appeared, at least to Dante, to be a primitive cart.

So did we go back in time?

What? Fortuna paused before laughing. No, no, dear. How do I explain this? In your world, the Null world, whenever you had problems, you made things to fix them, right?

Things?

Yeah, electrical lights, lifts, those flying vehicle things. Fortuna continued speaking as she pulled out a large sheet of paper from her bag. Problem, invention.

Okay.

Well, here, the inventions weren't physical. If we need light, we make a charm to make the light. We want to go up, gusts of wind. Think of it like we used different tools for the same problems, and because of it, we ended up in different places.

I think I understand.

That being said, this is my first time in Vrathone.

It is?

The school is a few weeks south of here by foot. Around…what was the name, Houston? Well, southwest.

Weeks?

Well, that's why we're not going by foot. Ah! Here we go.

Fortuna led Dante down several more streets. As they walked, Dante found himself stumbling over rocks, wooden posts tied to horses, wooden signs written, to his surprise, in English, and a small green fellow with pointed ears and a mean temper. He got away before the goblin became creative with his insults.

Can we take a break?

Are you okay?

I'm not used to the uneven ground. Toronto has paved floors and walking areas.

Ah, I see. Well, we're almost there. That building over there, see it? The one with the winged horses. That's where we're going.

Winged horses…okay…

*****

The years after Glo's death had taken their toll on Arthur. He vowed not to be as vacant as his parents and wanted to do his best for the young Dante. Odd jobs weren't going to cut it, at least not in his mind.

He studied, a skill he'd nearly mastered in his childhood. Between watching, bathing, and feeding his child, he'd have his nose in one lawbook or another, and though it was difficult, he had eventually worked his way into city law enforcement.

The young Dante found it interesting how his father would return battered and bruised. Was it hands-on training? On-the-job skirmishes? Was a higher-up having fun? Arthur would never say nor would Dante admit how proud he was of the man trying to raise him.

One night, maybe a week after his thirty-fourth birthday, Arthur was out on patrol. The other officer in his hovercraft, a younger woman who'd been talking about her three pups for most of the night between adjusting her large round glasses and tightening her wrapped black hair, had been unusually excitable.

So when a nearby building erupted into flames, it wasn't a surprise that she dragged them to the scene and charged in when the sound of a crying child filled the air.

Ulma, wait! But his words rang too late.

Despite every fiber of his being and years of training screaming at him not to, Arthur followed.

The smoke was thick and clouded his eyesight, but the officer persisted. Up and up, they followed the child's voice past floors of burning chairs and shattered furniture.

All the while, he'd shout, Ulma, we have to get back! and all the while, she'd reply, I hear her voice! She's here somewhere—

Help! yelped the voice of a small girl. It's hot! Help!

Help me knock this door open.

The two smashed aside the door and were met by an empty burning office. Three desks smoldered around, but not a single child could be seen.

Help! Please! the voice called out again.

Over there. The closet!

Wait! Ulma.

Stumbling through the haze, Arthur got to Ulma's side right as she swung the small door aside.

This isn't…where's the girl?

The man that stood in the closet towered at least half a head over Arthur. He was thin and ragged and wore very little. His feet were bare, but he did have thin shorts on. In one hand was a thin black remote, and in the other…

It's a bomb! Arthur threw the young officer aside as the metal vial ruptured.

She covered her head, and Arthur looked away as the explosion sounded all around them…

But there was no pain. The heat had died down, and he was, as far as he was aware, still alive.

Ulma opened her eyes and looked up at her senior.

I…I don't believe it.

The man was on his knees, grasping at his bloodied nub of an arm, and all around them, the room was charred, all except for a teardrop-shaped stretch of the room where Ulma, Arthur, and the majority of the man were.

Arthur was alive and still had his arms reaching forward.

W-what happened?

The man responded to Arthur with screams of pain.

A section of the ceiling had begun to collapse, and at last, Ulma conceded to retreating.

What about him?

Arthur, he just tried to kill us!

*****

The next morning, news anchors reported the story of how officers Arthur Chester and Ulma Fitzweather were lured into a burning building and how the man responsible for the fire had intended on taking a few officers out with him, but none of them included the explosion or the miraculous flames that had avoided killing anyone.

*****

Pushing open the large silver-engraved wooden doors, Fortuna led Dante into an ornate building. The second pair of doors that stood open just behind the first was just as meticulously crafted. Dante fixed his coat using his reflection on the polished black marble floor for help then quickly rushed up to Fortuna's side.

Several counters lined the walls, spanning from the entrance all the way to the glass lift at the far end of the lobby. Each of these counters was manned by either humans, winged humans with pointy ears, or small green fellows, whom Dante had to confirm were indeed goblins. They could get crude at times, but Fortuna guaranteed that they were harmless.

Though the building outside was two, maybe three, stories high, looking upward, Dante was met with endlessly tall walls lined with an endlessly large number of safe doors.

So…this is a bank?

Indeed, Mr. Chester, Fortuna brimmed as they reached the last teller in the row. Whitehook's Bank is one of the largest in the Arcane world. The safest place to be.

Next, said the pointed ear fella behind the counter. Ah, Madam Fortuna. Welcome back. Is this the boy we were talking about before?

Yes. Thank you for remembering.

Not a problem, milady. Not a problem.

Tapping the small shell-shaped object at his side, two thin paper bracelets slid out. Fortuna presented her arm and allowed the winged man to wrap one around her wrist. Dante copied her.

I'll meet you by the lift.

He spread his wings and flew off toward the end of the lobby. The paper seemed oddly ordinary, but at this point, Dante was willing to believe just about anything.

The two of them approached the winged man, and he guided them to the lift.

I'm Chuck, by the by. Dante couldn't help but smile at the man's presence. Now your aunt has authorized a withdrawal of 2,000 rue.

We'll only be taking 500, Fortuna told him.

My aunt? Dante paused. I have an aunt?

Op…I'm sorry. Did I ruin the surprise?

Not at all, Chuck. We were on our way to meet her right after.

Right-o. Please step onto the lift.

Dante and Fortuna stepped into the glass tube. When they did, it sealed up around them. Chuck waved his hand, and the lift shot upward. Dante could feel the floor pushing up against him and had to hold onto Fortuna out of fear of falling flat on his face.

The lift rose for five, ten, maybe twenty seconds before coming to a gentle stop. Then it slid across the wall before, once again, coming to a stop. The glass