Protector of the Realm: Realm of Fantasy and Magic, #2

By P.S. Power and Max Kincaid

In this epic series, worlds will be changed. Realities will be torn asunder and your faith in humanity will be restored...

 

Protector of the Realm:

Tor Baker must find a way to handle his new status in society. The elites of his world are not planning to make it easy for him. At the same time, the threat of a vast and implacable enemy looms, threatening everything he loves.

 

*The new installment of this full length, epic series of fantasy and magic is coming out on the first day of every month! Look right now for more of your favorite series, everywhere that fine books are sold. Because waiting is hard, and reading is a gift to us all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Opal stone press
• Release date: Nov 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223086208

Book preview

Chapter one

Rolph, being a good friend and well versed in etiquette as he was, didn't send him directly off to Kolb, Tor's new Knight, the instant they landed or anything. No, Tor had to spend a good amount of time primping, cleansing his body and in practice first. Apparently, that was important. As in it being an actual rule. A basic noble plan that a boy from the backwoods wouldn’t be expected to know.

The raw and rather insulting implication being that he might visit without washing first. It was a bit rude to bring up, really, since Tor tended toward a tidy state, day to day. He’d been raised with regular washing and clean clothing being the normal way, after all.

The Prince of the Realm, Alphonse, even if Tor kept thinking of him as Rolph, had him bathe anyway, not being subtle about requesting he do so, and then requested he dress in his nicest clothing for the coming meeting with the knight being forced to take him on as a squire. That clothing was just a pair of simple canvas school browns which didn't have any visible stains at the moment. A matter that left his friend frowning a bit. Which Tor understood, after his time of several weeks at the King’s palace in the Capital. Such simple clothing might be seen as an insult, from a nobleman. Even if squires, clearly, were supposed to be kind of poor, on average. Children who, even if they came from well-placed situations, were just starting to climb the ranks of the path warriors had to take in life.

The giant, redheaded, Prince waved that portion of their activities away, as if finally trying not to leave Tor feeling too nervous about the meeting to come. It was late for that, even if the thought was appreciated, after the fact.

Then he simply had to go and present the man with the official document the King had sent along with him. It was in a sealed envelope, with the noble seal pressed into the wax on the back, so he honestly didn't know what it said. Breaking it open, even using magic, would potentially show. Tor had thought about how to do it, more than once, being curious as to what could possibly be inside the letter about him.

That part, the mystery of it, rather ate at him.

After all, it could say anything, and it seemed to directly relate to him.

Hopefully it would only be something along the lines of, don't let him get too killed, if Torrance was lucky, and the King didn’t secretly have it out for him. He’d thought that they’d left on good enough terms, but now that he was away from the other man’s palace and back in a familiar and safe environment, doubt crept in. Part of Tor’s mind, a deep section of it, kept going over every word that he’d shared with the King. Then, when those seemed more or less fine, every other person that he’d spoken to at the palace. Right down to the room servant who had helped him the whole time he’d been there. Burks.

On the good side, from what everyone had told him, being a Squire shouldn't be that large of a concern outside of a time of war. Mainly having to do with training to fight, which he had to do for school under Kolb already, and some minor ceremonial stuff, which primarily had to do with carrying and caring for weapons and gear. The modern weapons and armor were all just tiny amulets and small metal or stone bits, so Tor thought he could manage that well enough. He could, perhaps, add in a regime of lifting tiny stones, so as to be ready for the hardship.

There was a simple speech he was supposed to give when he walked up to Kolb. A thing that Rolph had gotten him to practice several times before he left the room. Not that Tor would fail at the delivery. Rather, so it would sound proper and correct. Performed with the correct noble accent, instead of sounding like a merchant, which he normally did when he spoke Noram standard.

Even though school didn't start again for a full day, Tor found the instructor working with some of the more ardent combat students, all giants of course, in the bright summer sun already. These were special lessons for the advanced students, he thought.

They were all good at least. Much better than Tor was, from what he could tell. Though it could be hard to determine really, since they all moved crisply and as if anyone in front of them should simply prepare to die. It was intimidating, even from a distance.

Tor, being sensible and not wanting to catch a practice blade to the side of the head, waited for a lull in the efforts to approach. It was polite, plus, really, he didn't want to be killed by mistake, if one of them tripped or stumbled at the wrong time.

They were all, as he’d noticed, giants.

Always looming over properly sized people like him, the way they did.

Then, he was short, being only five-four, which wasn’t that tiny once you got out of the major cities, but it certainly wasn’t tall, even for his home village of Two Bends. He was about average for that part of the world. Here, at Lairdgren School, he was the smallest person on campus, most of the time.

Three of the vast students tried to eviscerate Kolb with swords all at once, the man struggling to hold his own the whole time. These particular combat students were very good, being about ten times better than Tor, at least, and while none of them could equal the head instructor alone, they worked together well, pressing the man into exhaustion, and then, finally, moved in for the kill.

Laughing, Kolb surrendered and held his right hand up.

Take a break and make sure to drink some water. This heat's bad enough without sunstroke. He spied Tor and looked down at the splint on his leg, then at the paper in his hand, a nice cream-colored envelope.

Tor. You haven't crippled yourself for life, have you? Come to resign?

Tor shrugged with one shoulder. Doing it with both pulled at his left leg and kind of hurt still. It was down to a dull ache though, so he was healing already.

Nothing like that. I get to take the splint off in about a month. It got broken when I dove headfirst into an old middens. Anyway... Tor took a deep breath, readying his little speech.

Kolb walked away, over to the water barrel.

"Walk with me then, or hobble, as the case may be. Now, tell me why you were doing a damned fool thing like that? Going headfirst into a middens? Was it some kind of foolish dare? A drunken wager? It’s not going to be a habit is it? Some kind of new sport that I haven’t heard about yet? I do hope not. After all, if it broke your leg, it will probably remove the limbs of most of the other students here."

The large man drank several dipperful’s of water, one after the other. Since sweat was glistening on his skin, even in the dry heat, Tor guessed it was warranted and the correct measure to take at the moment. For his own part, he was simply pleased that those three monsters weren't going to be coming after him like that any time soon.

They stood drinking their own water, carefully not looking at Tor. Ignoring him with some rather obvious effort. A matter that, now, he’d learned enough skill in magic to feel coming from them. Even if he wasn’t doing it well enough to instantly read their true intent in the matter. That was probably fair of them, of course. The combat students, even the lower-level ones, obviously considered him being there as a jest or test for them in some fashion, and everything considered, he simply had to be something like that, in their world. He was far too small to even be an interesting training partner, not a good enough fighter to challenge even the second-year students giants most of the time, and right now he clearly wasn’t even going to be interesting to even chase around trying to hit with a practice sword.

Hobble away.

That wasn't a very good battle cry at all.

Unless he could incapacitate them with laughter. If that would work, he had to figure he had a real chance against even the strongest of them. So far it had never come up, but he could dream of the day where being him was an aid on the practice field.

Tor ignored them back for the moment. He'd come for a real reason, with orders from King Richard himself. Still, he couldn't just not answer the question asked, not politely, so he tried to give a small outline of the situation. Even if he felt an intense pressure to actually report, as he was supposed to. It was the tradition, after all.

Still, so was making polite conversation. For a moment he was torn, then went with the one which he had to figure Kolb would actually want to know of first.

Um, no, not a dare or wager. There were some small children who fell into an abandoned cesspit that had opened up. It had dried and collapsed under its own weight, over the ages. Everyone else was too large to reach them, and time was running out, so, I climbed down and got them. It collapsed on us, so we had to be pulled out by the rope tied around my ankle, which given everything, broke. Anyway... He took another deep breath, ready to go into the formal speech he'd practiced.

Kolb stopped drinking his refreshing and very clear water and stared at him. Suddenly seeming odd. Slightly sad, or like he was prepared to be.

Did you... save the children?

The large man looked worried, and all the combat students stopped looking away and stepped closer to him, leaving him feeling a little surrounded.

Yes. They're fine, of course. I got a shield on the boy, and when I saw the little girl further down, I got her mine before the whole thing fell in on her. I threw it to her, and she grabbed it, barely being able to move herself, wedged in like she was, then I activated it, from a distance. After that... we got her out. I did. Before I passed out, I mean. I, um, used direct effect to uncover her. It was... kind of a combat rage thing... I didn’t have time to do it another way. Luckily I was rather angry at the collapsing pit at that moment, so it worked out. Everyone stared at him for a long time, but no one questioned him on it. They were all nobles, so they knew not to. It just wasn't polite.

He was pretty obviously a commoner, only, of course, he wasn't. His claim to nobility was at least nearly as good as anyone there. So, he had that to worry about now, as well. If Tor got too angry, or even upset, he could go insane, have lethal powers and try to kill people. Kolb had to know that. Even if he’d been just a regular student, and not his Squire, since it might come up in class. Only so far, when it had happened, he hadn’t truly lost control of himself. He’d tried to save people, instead. Even if he’d been insanely angry at the time.

A little desperately he brushed at his straight, very short black hair, trying to change the topic.

One of the giants took off the practice helm, showing short cropped and sweat matted blonde or really light brown hair underneath. To Tor’s surprise she was a girl. One who looked only a few years older than himself. Obviously she was a noble given that she must have been nearly six-eight. She didn't have the fine-featured look that Trice, his fiancée, or the Queen had, so the size made her looks a little mannish. Not that Tor was going to tell her that. He wanted to live, after all.

Besides, she probably thought he looked a bit feminine, being so small and delicate. Pale, as well, though that wasn’t particularly a girlish trait, just an odd one. Starting that kind of conversation wouldn’t go his way too easily, he was willing to bet. Plus, looks were far from the most important matter in life. He was, at best, average, himself. People were kind to him about it, which showed how he needed to act towards others if it ever came up. Informing them of their own good looks, even if it wasn’t the truth.

She spoke then, looking worried herself, which was strange. They weren’t friends or anything. He barely recognized her to tell the truth. He had, of course, worked with her before, but she mainly just swung blades or clubs at him, or at times other weapons, calling out for him to do better than he was.

But... If you didn't have a shield on, having given it to save the girl, didn't all the... waste fall in on you?

He chuckled a bit, since she was being delicate about the wrong portion of things. Dried human waste, centuries old, was mainly just dirt, after all.

"Yes, it really did. Painfully. I managed to partially build a shield around me, but it could only do so much, and the rope was already inside it. Sorry everyone, I’m not trying to be rude here, but really, I have to..."

Kolb stopped him with a raised hand.

Karen, give me your combat readiness analysis of Tor here, please. Be thorough. This could be important. As a hint, we can expect him to heal about four times faster from this than one of the larger people here would. There was a wave at his leg then, to indicate what parts would need healing.

Kolb, being helpful, called out bends and twists for Tor to try, and Karen the giant girl made her assessments while everyone else looked on. The assessment really was pretty accurate, Tor noticed. He really was still tight on his whole left side and his muscle tone had suffered in the last month. His endurance too probably, without his regular running, or really any other exercise.

Karen took a deep breath, blowing it out as she wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead.

Well... I wouldn't wish to send him back to the front lines in this state, but he should be able to practice sword and knife work, energy weapons and shield and... Can you fly? She asked, her voice sounding honestly interested in the idea.

That one he knew for certain, at least. He wasn’t certain about sword work at all, however.

"Yes. That doesn't hurt at all. Even on long trips. I flew in this morning from Two Bends, um, my home village, which is about five hundred miles south from here, give or take. There was no discomfort in doing that at all. Not while I was up in the air, at any rate. It was rather relaxing, because it takes all the stress off my legs for a while. I recommend it, if you ever get injured like this."

The girl looked down a bit bashfully. "I was just asking if you knew how to do it at all. I take it that's a yes then?"

Tor nodded, then smiled, understanding that this woman clearly didn’t know who he was in particular, other than a short, mobile target. He could sympathize, not being that important at all.

Smiling he nodded.

I can, in fact. I created the magic for it, so was the first person to fly using the new system. Oh! I also made the new batch so that they’ll be controlled by the left hand, leaving the right open for weapons use? It’s faster and the controls are better, easier to use, as well.

Kolb nodded on hearing that.

"That sounds like it might be useful. Leave a set for us to test for that? For the rest of this... Right, so for the next month I'd like you to work with Tor on that. All of it. Karen is in charge of you for that time. These other two, Petra and Forne, will be your training partners if we can't find anyone closer to your size who can do it without killing you."

All right. Sounds good, um... Kolb?

The man had started to walk away, back to the open exercise area. Focused as he always was on his own work. He turned and looked at Tor as if he hadn't realized that he'd been still trying to speak. Even if it were clear that he’d been interrupting him over and again, on purpose. Probably to keep him from quitting, using his broken leg as an excuse for it.

Tor waived the envelope in the air his voice going slightly exasperated.

Sir Martin Kolbrin, I bring orders from the hand of King Richard of Noram. Would you receive them now?

That, those few words, were all Tor had to actually say. It wasn't some huge or complex thing, but he had to work to hold the envelope out and not just cross his arms and tap his toes like an impatient farm wife waiting for the fresh loaves in the bakery. He managed it, mainly because he knew that being impatient didn't make the bread bake any faster and wouldn't cause Kolb to move either.

At least his eyes widened in slight shock, which was a little rewarding.

Oh? Well... why didn't you say so?

His voice was playful, indicating that he truly did understand that Tor had been cut off about a million times in the conversation, at least. Which meant they honestly had done it to him on purpose for some reason. Possibly to keep him from quitting, or maybe even just whining about having to do work while still healing. Not that he had a choice in that kind of thing.

A large, well-tanned hand took the delicate white envelope and the seal, the King's own falcon on it in red wax impressed the man enough that he stood straighter when he saw it.

Cracking the seal slowly he pulled the paper out gently, looking at everyone else warily. It was nearly playful, in some fashion. The combat students all held their breaths a little while the muscular man read. That was understandable, as it could be orders for anything, and the King probably didn't send party invitations that way.

"Oh-ho." He called that out suddenly, seeming surprised, then kept reading, nodding after a bit.

After about two minutes he placed the paper back in the envelope and set it down on the practice weapons table, holding it in place with a large force lance or cutter. Tor could tell what it was if he picked it up, of course, even if he didn't recognize the sigil immediately.

Anyone could learn to feel magical fields if they paid attention, after all. Most people never bothered, just like they didn't bother to learn how to make their own. Then again, the same could be said about playing music, and Tor couldn't do that at all, himself. He couldn't even sing.

To his surprise, instead of setting Tor instantly to work, or yelling at him to get out of the practice area, a huge hand slapped him on the back hard enough to stagger him a little.

"Tor here managed to get himself named a Knight-Esquire. He skipped a whole rank, and only his age decided the matter downward. The King doesn’t want him to get a big head, even though he has his three marks of valor already. All since the last break, too. Someone has been rather been busy."

Kolb looked proud of him and for some reason so did the other students, even though he wasn't really one of them. They all took turns pounding him on the back. Petra taking pains to do it for the longest time, he noticed, her dark skin shining with sweat. Karen, his new trainer for the next month, actually hugged him. It was a warrior’s hug, which nearly broke things in his chest, and was followed by a pounding on the back that seemed happy but may have been a subtle assassination attempt. The girl picked him up into a second hug and turned to Kolb gleefully holding him off the ground the whole time.

"So, Squire... that pretty much means slave. And Knight-Esquire, that means we can both boss him around and expect him to do it without complaint?"

Kolb grinned.

For the most part, yes.

Karen nodded then.

"And I get him for the whole next month?"

There was a pleasant, nearly cheery, nod from Kolb then.

You do! That should be interesting, given who he is. Not that it will get you out of doing anything at all, Tor. The King explained to me in the letter... But I won’t lie and claim I didn’t know about the rest of it. He waved at the practice table, and the paper there.

No one else seemed to think that it was an odd thing to say. Tor noticed it, wondering what other things had been in there.

The girl, a woman really, set him down and started doing a little dance that looked entirely too happy seeming to Tor. Everyone laughed, so Tor wondered if it was all a joke or if, just possibly, Rolph and Count Thomson just didn't know what being a Squire actually entailed. He knew that neither one of them had ever held the position.

Um, not to be a whiner, but I could use occasional sleep? Plus, you know, there’s that whole school thing. At least if I don’t want to be kicked out.

Kolb clapped him on the back.

"Don't worry Tor, we're just having you on. A bit, anyway. Congratulations by the way. Report here to Karen tomorrow afternoon, at your normal time. She'll assign you tasks and what not, as she sees fit. I know that I don't have to give more instruction to you than that, so I won't." Kolb smiled and for what was very nearly the first time Tor could remember it didn't leave him feeling like death was the natural next likely outcome after seeing such a thing.

With that he got sent back to his room, feeling well enough about the situation. At least Karen had seemed nice so far. Naturally, she'd probably beat him black and blue in the days to come, but that was only to be expected. She probably wouldn't be able to help it. Not if she was going to make him work on sword fighting against her overly massive friends, which seemed to be the plan. As long as they didn't cripple him permanently, he'd deal. Actually, he realized he'd deal with it even if they did. It wasn't as if he had a choice.

Rolph went with him to dinner, where they found, of all things, Dorgal Sorvee, Tor's favorite bully, his friend Marco, and the same fellow with the creepy all black eyes that Tor had set Wensa on nearly two months before all sitting in the dining room. Across the space from them sat Wensa, her face blank and her eyes taking in Tor closely when he walked in.

Interestingly, it was clear her focus wasn’t truly on him, but rather the trio of trouble who glared back at Wensa, rather firmly.

Tor and Rolph, went directly to the food receiving window with their wooden trays. The fare was a simple roast fowl that day, with potatoes and carrots on the side. Rolph tried to avoid the carrots, but Tor took some. After all, it was free food, well enough made and filling. There were no sweets served at the school, not even honey for the bread in the morning, but Tor didn't mind. The food at the palace had been so rich that some good plain stuff seemed like a nice change. Plus, rich foods were a treat, meant for special occasions. It was wasteful and greedy to eat them every day.

Dorgal and Marco stared directly at Wensa, as if trying to intimidate her. Because, naturally, that would work. Cutting off her hands wouldn't intimidate the woman. Literally, he'd heard. She'd just accept the loss and move on, if the stories were correct.

Noble guards were trained to be like that from childhood, and this one had been specially chosen to protect the Heir. That probably meant she was even harder than the others. Wensa stared at him, her eyes seeming a bit insane for a moment and so did the other man, the older one with the all black eyes, who sat at the table next to Dorgal.

Tor nodded at Rolph.

I’m rather being watched. A bit too intensely, I think. I can’t say I understand it. It was possible that he was over-stating parts of the situation.

Instead of telling him that, his best friend let one shoulder come up, not directly looking at the watchers at all. A moment later, he nodded. Having used some trick to assess the situation that Tor didn’t know.

There was a slow nod and look away, at some of the other students there. Then the man whispered.

Keep your eyes open then and be ready to move if you must. You have a shield on? He said this casually, taking a small bite of the chicken, using a knife and fork, like they did at the palace. Tor picked his up country fashion, using his hands and took a bite, nodding a little himself.

Nothing happened after that, until the meal had almost ended, then Captain Wensa got up, still staring at Tor, interspersed with a glare or two for Dorgal and his friends, and made her way over. She actually ignored Rolph, except to tell him that she expected him in class early the next day for extra assignments. Before she left, her look going cold, she leaned over to Tor and whispered softly, about six inches away from his ear.

Looming with a sense of menace that seemed well out of place.

"I see you still haven't learned to protect yourself against poisons, as of yet? You might wish to rectify that. Soon." Then the woman, lean and hard as he remembered her, steal gray hair pulled into a bun that looked uncomfortable to him, walked out without looking back.

Looking down at his mainly clean plate, Tor blanched.

He'd rather forgotten how much she hated him, over the last weeks.

Poison in the food was a way that she could get at him, without even working too hard to make it happen. It was, he supposed, kind of her to warn him, instead of simply using the lack against him. The question then was what he could do about it. If anything at all. Tor, taking a deep breath, tried to think of how to avoid it, but there were just too many different poisons to learn them all. He'd be better off trying to build a field that could recognize good food and tell him if anything else was there.

Which... actually made sense, once he considered the concept for a moment.

There were only so many different things he ate on average. Something like a hundred different things per week. If he broke it down into ingredients it was probably four times that. Compared to the ten thousand or more things that could kill him in food, it seemed easy to manage. He could create a limited feedback field. A magic which was a complicated version of the temperature control field. Those were rare, but easy enough to make now that he had the basic concept down. It would take a lot of work to build the whole thing correctly, but...

Yes, that portion of the magic would do what he wanted.

What he needed though was some way to signal him that there was something in the food that didn't belong. He knew what he'd want for that, a very bright light, something that couldn't be missed at all. The only problem there was that he didn't know how to make one. They existed, but he'd never gotten to hold one even. They were expensive, and the ones in the palace he'd seen where all placed out of reach high up on walls or the ceiling. That had been a stylistic thing, Tor figured, since they couldn't have possibly known that he'd be coming when the light features were built, years or possibly decades before.

He didn't sleep well that night, and had to skip breakfast the next day, just in case Wensa came after him. She’d warned him after all, so he’d be a fool not to take her seriously on the matter.

His roommate cleared his throat, clearly amused by the idea.

"Come now, Tor... She didn’t mean it that way. No one is going to try and poison a student here. I mean, that would cause a war. Flat out. If a noble guard did such a thing then the entire kingdom would have to fight, or their child or heir might be next. She wouldn’t do that, even if she really had it out for you."

Tor could see that. It was probably even true. After all, if she really wanted him dead, then he would be.

Except that I can’t risk it. She’s taken several actions before that could have led to my death. In public, despite what you just said. Hungry is better than dead.

Rolph made a non-comital sound to that but patted him on the back. Humoring his overly dramatic paranoia, no doubt. Tor understood that portion as well. That he was making a large thing out of a small threat. Words no doubt designed to make him worry, not even put forward as a real distraction by the noble guard. Unless it was something else, naturally. A true threat, where she convinced herself that if he was too foolish to protect himself, he didn’t deserve to live, or something insane like that.

The morning’s meditation was peaceful enough, easier for him now than before, what with all his copy work, which was mainly meditation anyway. Doris the instructor nodded at him as he left, still refusing to speak, but seeming content about it at the same time.

In his next class, he took a deep breath, and approached the man in charge. Feeling awkward, since asking anything, of anyone, was always difficult for him.

I was wondering, Instructor Fines... How do I make a light? No one has ever just told me how to do that. They exist, so it’s clearly possible, but...

It made sense to him to ask, but Instructor Fines blinked at him as if he’d suggested they dine on another student later. An unsavory looking one.

"Tor. This is novel building, not copy other people’s work class. I'll give you a hint this once... Even though I shouldn't have to... Think about the nature of light. Examine it and reproduce the field. It's basically how everything is done in this class. This addresses the essential skill you need to learn here. In magical construction as a whole, and light is one of the most basic parts of reality. So, since you asked... Have a light for me within three weeks. No fair using an already existing field as a template, I know you can do that. Bonus points will be awarded if you have it for me faster than the deadline." The man smiled, as if he'd done him a favor.

Tor’s mind spun in place for the rest of the day. He skipped lunch as well, the hunger starting to become slightly annoying. It wasn't so bad in a trance state, so he made a point of dropping as deeply as he could into his own mind and focus on everything going on around him, so he wouldn't walk into walls or something.

He'd have to make the whole of the magical construct that night. Somehow. He couldn't take the hunger otherwise, not and keep up with his schedule at all.

Damn Wensa, anyway. This is annoying. The muttering was slightly angry sounding, even if only he could hear it.

It was truly baffling as to why she’d picked him as her target. Tor couldn’t think of anything that he’d done to her, personally. Well, he had sort of told Dorgal and his friends she was a noble guard, and her stomping over with weapons in hand had kind of confirmed it... But she'd started it. Not that anyone in the world would care about that factor.

Tor made a point of focusing even more deeply as he walked to the weapons practice area. The sunlight hit his skin gently, so he tried to capture the sense of it in the air, hoping that would be enough to distract him. It was amorphous, hard to find and gone instantly. It seemed impossible to replicate as a field. He focused harder and stopped walking about ten feet from the stone wall of the practice court.

Then it hit him. What Instructor Fines had basically told him to do. Feel the field of it.

Only, when he did that, the whole of the project coming into place suddenly he understood the trick... it was already a field. All light was all of the time. It was, in fact, pure magic. That's why he couldn't find it, trying to sense it like something physical. Oh, it clearly existed physically, but what made it work, that portion of it, Tor could simply get a feeling for like any manufactured field he wanted to copy.

It wasn't too difficult to find, it was too easy.

He snorted to himself.

No wonder Fines had told him to just go off and do it for himself. He felt a little stupid for having asked now.

Lesson learned. Think first, before bothering others. It will save you some embarrassment. Possibly, at least.

Inside the practice court he sat down on the ground awkwardly just inside the gate, a little to the left of it near the stone wall. Then he picked up a small well rounded gray stone, one about the size of a gold coin. The trick would be in capturing the sense of the field well enough to make something happen. He focused for about forty-five minutes before the rock in his hand finally started to glow. Dimly at first, but then brighter over the next moments. More so than the sunlight, then the sun in the sky itself. Then brighter still.

Suddenly it got to be too much, so he threw the stone away from himself, an instinctual and slightly panicked move. It was leaving spots in front of his eyes, even with them closed. He could even follow the arc it took through the air, to the point it landed on the ground.

Right at the feet of two giants, who were hitting each other with wooden weapons and wearing full armor it turned out. He wondered abstractly if they'd like some of the heat equalizing amulets. Maybe they'd accept that in exchange for not killing him, for what he’d just done, if he asked politely enough.

That padded practice armor had a point, he knew, since shields were rare, his kind of shield, but it looked incredibly hot at the moment. Both people had to turn away from the small rock, which had finally started to dim. That made sense, given the time he’d used to put the field on the stone, without even trying to lock it into place permanently. He could have done that as well, he knew.

"Blind!" One of them cried, not in fear, just indicating that he couldn't see for some reason. The call was echoed by his opponent. Petra, if Tor recognized the voice. Next to him he saw a shadow, a little blind from the rock he'd made glow himself. It was a big shadow, but not one thick enough to be Kolb. He didn't think so at least.

When she spoke he got it who was there. His new friend, and slave master, Karen.

That was effective. Is it a new battlefield weapon? Meant to leave the enemy blind? Karen asked this in a soft voice, obviously trying not to call more attention to herself if possible. Probably to keep the other two from beating him to death for having attacked them out of turn.

Tor smiled, since being pleasant might prevent anyone from becoming too upset with him.

"Nothing like that. I was just trying to figure out how to make light. It worked. Um, yay? I have a new project to work on, and it's going to be useful to it. Plus, I need it for a class. For a different project. Sorry!" He called out to the two still standing and not moving, still unable to see. Tor climbed to his feet and stood, his left leg hardly supporting his weight at all, since he'd sat on it funny, not even noticing that he was doing it in the working trance. He dusted the tan earth from his darker brown clothing making a soft cloud in the air.

Karen smiled and had him walk with her toward where the practice weapons were kept.

So... I was thinking that since you can't run and that's what you normally practice doing... Since you can't do that for a few more weeks, let's work pells and lifting stones for strength, then we'll do an intense sword and knife drill and maybe head out to the range so that we can practice there for a while.

That would be different at least, since he'd never even been out to the range before. Kolb didn't even let him practice with a bow and arrow, claiming that it would probably be wasted time anyway, since no one used them to fight with, and the aiming system for everything else was just so different.

Karen, it turned out, expected him to be some kind of weapons expert it seemed, and came at him like he was one of the combat giants. He barely managed to hold on and had to resist trying to run away at least three times. They fought first with knives, and then swords, standing face to face, without moving their feet at all. Without dodging it was a lot harder not to be killed by the girl than normal. Not the practice kind of killed, the actual dying kind. She didn't hit him in the left leg at least. Just everywhere else. Including his healthy leg, showing that she was doing it on purpose.

Now, it's about three miles to the range, I don't know if we can get a wagon out, so... do you think you can walk it?

He could, Tor was pretty sure, but it would ache.

I might make it out, but I’m not certain if I can get back. It will hurt though, even going one way. I don’t want to seem like a wimp, but it’s pretty much true.

He smiled. Really that should be, he hoped she didn't think he was more of a wimp. She probably had his measure pretty well already after all.

Rather than get upset, she sighed.

Oh... Well, I suppose we could fly, but we'd have to check the gear out and everything is booked for the day. It always is. So, since that's not an option I guess we should cancel that. Too bad, because I really wanted to get your take on the state of our practice weapons. Maybe soon? She didn't seem that put out at least and didn't punish him with a lot of extra work, though she did ask him to walk to his dorm and back as many times as he could without hurting himself, to help build his injured leg back up.

Tor didn't bother with dinner after that, it was still mid-afternoon when he couldn't comfortably walk anymore, so he started working on the poison testing device before he could collapse from hunger. The light turned out to be the simple part, now that he understood it, adding in the proper fields for all the foods he ate was harder. Not that they weren't familiar to him, he ate them after all, so it wasn't that difficult to remember.

No, the difficult portion was holding on to all the fields at once, inside of his mind. In the end he had to do them in a cascading style, adding one to another and into much larger sub-fields which he used for the final make. It took all night and most of the next day. And then the day after that.

Someone fed him something, which he hoped wasn't poisoned, and they gave him water to drink. Which was basic enough he’d almost forgotten it. He added water to the list of safe foods, then juices and cow’s milk, goat’s milk and struggled to remember what it was like from the few sips he'd ever had, wine and hard cider. All of it had to be done in a general fashion, so only something wrong would trigger the device at need.

The complexity of the field was huge compared to anything he'd ever done before. The power levels needed were miniscule, but there was just so much to focus on. It wasn't enough just to know food, he had to separate the plates and cups from things that could be used to harm a person as well. Plus, hundreds of other things, including just a sense that something might be unbalanced in a food item. Or around it. Diseased food or drink was a consideration, as well.

Finally, after a long time, the days not making any impression on him anymore, he opened his eyes. Tor was alone, and it was morning. He thought. It was light outside at least. He stood, barely making it to his feet, his legs almost not able to hold him up.

It was impossible to tell how long he’d been working. Longer than five or six days at least. He knew what that felt like, having done it before a couple of times now. This was worse.

Tor didn't make it to the door before it opened, and Rolph came in with Kolb and the kind older man with the beard he'd seen before. He looked at them and smiled.

Hala. His voice croaked. Tor had to clear it for a while, and drink some water, before it just sounded like a frog lived in there.

How long was I working? He almost apologized for not greeting everyone properly first, but Rolph answered before he could say anything else.

"Eleven days. I'd thought you were just working on something at first. I mean I could see the template in your hand and all, I get what that means, but then you just didn't move. Two days ago you stopped drinking water, so Trice and I decided we had to get help. I don't know what that magic is, but is the latest diaper rash treatment or whatever really worth all this?" The look on Rolph's face was stern and more than a little worried.

Eleven days.

No wonder he couldn't speak. Worse, Karen would probably kill him when he went back. Kolb looked worried too, but the girl had been put in charge of his training, and as far as everyone else could tell her new trainee had run away after only one day. He decided to distract them all, if he could.

He held up the template, one made in wood, with lines written over both the front and the back of it in tiny script. It was twice the size of the normal wooden planks he got, because he'd found that the first two he tried weren't big enough for everything he needed to write down.

He pointed at it. The move was a bit tired seeming and perhaps a trifle lazy. Seaming as if he didn’t care about it at all.

"This... is a testing device for food, to determine if it's poisoned. It should inform us if there's anything in the food that doesn't belong. Holding up his hand he grinned tiredly. Yes, that includes exotic spices and foods that I just haven't encountered... But also poisons, inert materials, and so on. I need to test it, naturally, but I don't know how..."

The older man whose name he'd never even heard stroked his beard slightly.

I think we can arrange for that. You... Probably need food, water and sleep first, after such a time and this sort of effort. Let's say tomorrow at noon? That gives you nearly a full day to recuperate. Do you think that's enough? The voice sounded like the man was truly concerned about Tor's health and wellbeing.

Which was very gentle of him.

Tor nodded and laid back to go to sleep before anyone even left the room. A while later he was woken up by hard punches on his right arm. They hurt, and didn't stop, so he opened his eyes. Trice sat next to him crying and hitting him.

"Don't... ever... do that again. We all thought you were dead... or going to die soon anyway. Promise me you won't do this kind of thing anymore." She looked scared, really scared. Rolph handed him some bread and cheese.

This was bought in town, from a randomly selected shop I've never gone into before. Next time we'll send someone else for food, if you need more. I purchased a goodly amount... He turned to Trice and shook his head but gave her a half hug. Trice, don't ask him not to do things he may have to. Just... Rolph turned to Tor and held his gaze. Just promise that you'll be more careful and try not to die? If you're going to try impossible things, couldn't you at least let us all know first?

Nodding he grinned at Rolph, avoiding looking directly at Trice, not wanting to set her off again.

That sounds doable. I honestly hadn’t realized how difficult this was going to be. Not at all. It’s so complex. Really, I’m not even certain it’s going to work. There are thousands of component magics to this. If even one is in the wrong place, then this was all for nothing. He could only hope that wasn’t going to be the case.

After all, being gone from training and classes for eleven days to make something new and useful would probably earn him a sound thrashing, at least in his combat lessons. Eleven days being gone with no reason at all might well be grounds for expulsion.

The words earned him a punch in the chest from Trice.

Hard.

Tor rubbed at it gently while she spoke, figuring that it was going to bruise for certain.

"Oh, it will work. If you scared me like that for nothing, then the wedding's off, because they'll never find your body." She growled at him in a way that made him swallow hard and blanch a little.

Tor just nodded. Apparently, it would work. Or else.

He could get behind that. Casually he tried to work his way over to his shield, which sat on the table next to the bed.

Rolph laughed, getting what he was trying for, and made him eat as much food as Tor thought he could without getting sick, which wasn't a vast portion after the long fast he’d just undergone. Then slowly sip cool water until he fell back to sleep. When he woke it was black outside, so he lay there for a while, not wanting to turn on a light. Eventually, bored and stiff, he decided to make some copies of the field into metal.

They copied fast. Almost too easily, given all the work he'd had to do originally. The copper pieces he'd gotten for the new units were about the shape and size of his little finger. Each had a tiny sigil on it already. Just a mark he'd made on each with the little cutter that he still had from when he built the first shield. It made a groove that should work well enough as an activation focus.

A tiny area of extra shiny copper on each piece. He thought it looked nice. Not glorious or stunning in any way, but clear and easy to use. The point was to go for tasteful. He thought it would count for that, at least. This was just for him, and if it worked, his friends. It wasn't like most people had to fear being poisoned by Wensa after all. They probably should, but if they didn't know her, that might give most people a little protection at least. Even she wouldn't just break into homes at random to get people.

At least Tor hoped that wasn’t the case.

Tor could feel the fields on the metal, or else he would have thought he'd just screwed up and it hadn't worked. After that, tired as he was, he got up and ate some more. Yellow cheese and half stale bread, but it tasted surprisingly good for all that. There was even some dried fruit. The real kind, slow dried in the sun, not magically. Chewy apple slices that felt velvety to the tongue.

So, all Tor had to do now was go to each class, beg forgiveness for missing, and pray that Karen would decide that murder was too harsh a punishment. That was, he knew, a jest. Still, beating him, for real, was probably going to be in the offing. Disguised as exercise, or practice, but you weren’t allowed to simply miss combat classes. Not for nearly two weeks like he’d just done.

It would, he knew, even be fair for the school to ask him to leave, having missed so many classes as he had. So, Karen might well harm him for real, even if she wasn’t that angry about the idea. Simply to make certain the other instructors didn’t toss him away in their upset.

Tor needed a plan for that part, then. Bribes crossed his mind as a possible trick. She'd mentioned not having flying gear yet, and he'd brought extra back with him. Those were the new version, even. That and a shield could work. It wasn't much, but maybe it would distract her from being too angry with him. If she hadn't just written him off already and moved on to the next thing.

That would be totally fair of her, if she had.

Doris took his sudden return with aplomb, of course, and simply indicated that he should sit with a hand gesture and that small half smile she almost always wore.

After class he moved to the front, looking at the older woman closely, before speaking.

I was working. For eleven days straight, in a deep trance state. I didn’t know that it would take that long, or I would have asked leave to do it first. Please forgive my absence. He bowed, and considered for a moment, actually going to all fours for it. There was no reason for her to believe him, after all.

She simply bowed slightly in return, and then sent him on his way with a tiny smile and another small wave toward the door.

The novel build instructor, Fines gave him a long look. It was odd though. Almost as if he felt sad about something.

You still have a few days, on the project assigned. Is that... Not going well?

Tor blinked, searching his memory for a bit. Then he got it.

"Oh, the light. I actually figured that out the same day, it took about an hour, after your suggestion. Light is a field... I mean, I hadn’t even considered that, so hadn’t looked. I feel rather silly, now. So, I kind of forgot about it and moved on to harder things. I'll bring something in tomorrow..." The man smiled and waved his hand.

Oh, don't worry about it, what did you come up with that was so important you missed class for two weeks, if not the difficult task I set for you? His voice made it clear that he trusted totally that Tor hadn't simply been skipping out to play, at least. That was heartening to hear.

Tor nodded, smiling a bit.

"It’s a poison detector. It senses and measures any food within six inches of the device, once activated, then assesses what’s there, using a limited feedback field. Then, if there’s anything that doesn’t belong, it will light up. It has a light on it. If it works."

The man seemed impressed, in a reserved fashion.

Oh? That sounds promising then. I’ll let the light on that count for your assigned project. Unless it’s inferior in some way, of course. Do you plan testing for it?

He nodded, a bit eagerly.

This afternoon. At noon, exactly. I’m not certain where or when. I get some help with it, I think?

The Instructor simply nodded at that.

Very good. I want a full report on the device and to examine it, even if it fails. Tomorrow?

Tor bowed, since that was a lot better than the beating he probably deserved for his long absence.

Yes, sir. I’ll have that ready.

His other classes went about the same, much to his relief. He had to apologize and grovel a bit in each one, but no one suggested he leave school over it yet. Tor went back to his room for lunch, ravenous already, even though he'd eaten just a few hours, five, before. Halfway to the room, in the center of the cobblestone commons Trice and Sara found him.

The blonde girl smiled at him, seeming friendly, but Trice stood facing partially away, refusing to make eye contact. She crossed her arms and huffed.

Ready for the test, then? If you die, I swear I'm never talking to you again.

The words were funny, but the tone was so serious no one even chuckled. She sounded ready to cry.

Tor wasn't actually ready, he had to grab the fields from the room. With a bit of math, he decided to take half the metal pieces and the big wooden template along with him. That would leave him enough for his friends to each have one, if the others were needed for testing. Taking a deep breath, he walked out of his room, not knowing where they were going at all. No one had given him a location for it.

Sara patted him on the back, her hand lingering for about fifteen seconds. Trice didn't react to it, so Tor figured it wasn't outside of what was proper. Finally, the pretty blonde spoke.

"We’re set up in our dining hall. You get to have lunch with us today..." Sara looked at him and winked.

It made sense that they ate daily, he'd seen them do it after all, but he hadn't been aware that they had a dining hall like his section had. The buildings were smaller, and set back from the rest of the school enough that no one would have ever gone into one of them by mistake. The walk wasn't that long, even if they had to travel at his pace, which still kind of limped along. Tor almost wished he had something better than browns to wear, since the girls both wore blacks, and really nice ones at that, made of fine, airy materials. Meant to keep them comfortable in the late summer heat. Neither looked hot, not showing visible sweat or anything, so they probably wore their amulets for that. He did. Otherwise even the school would have been too warm for him. Never the blistering heat of the Capital, but hot enough to annoy, and make him damp in all the wrong places.

The room they took him into was well filled with people. Most in stark black, but a few in much livelier colors, some of the girls in pretty, brightly colorful dresses even. Many of them ate already, which made him more than a little hungry in response.

The food smelled really good, too. Maybe not palace level good, but at least two or three times better than what they got at the other dining facility across campus. At the front of the room the older bearded man, wearing a large, well draped black velvet coat, with a bright green shirt under that and a red floppy hat, along with black trousers made of something that Tor couldn't identify, watched him enter.

Smiling hugely, as if pleased to see him.

Ah! Mr. Baker. Just the man. Please, come and join us. The voice was warm and he gestured regally enough that the move wouldn't have been amiss in the palace itself.

As he got to the table, he saw that it held plates of food. Each dish was different, some obvious things he'd never encountered before. A few looked like raw meat, and one of them seemed to still be alive in a glass of water. An eel. He'd heard of them but had never seen one. The presentation suggested that people ate them. Alive. It didn't look very good to him. It slithered in the clear glass, a grayish black that shone even in the water, making it look slick and slimy.

The kind gentleman smiled at him and waved at the table.

The test is a simple one. Use your device on this food and find what's poisoned before we eat. Begin as you will. I don't know how the device might work. Do you need anything in particular, or a special condition for the food?

Tor shook his head, swallowing, feeling nervous, now that it was time to prove his work.

No. This should be fine. The magic has to be useful at every meal, after all.

Pulling one of the little copper rectangles from his belt he activated it with his thumb and just moved toward the food. Tor went slowly at first, not knowing if anything would happen at all. Most of the people in the room, students mainly, but a few older people, including servants, watched with a bored quality. Almost as if they saw people playing with poisoned food on a regular basis. As he approached a plate with mashed potatoes, gravy, and beef slices the device in his hand lit up.

It didn't glow itself, instead, as he'd intended, the space around the hand holding the device glowed with a golden light so bright that it was kind of hard to look at. Tor had wanted to make certain that the signal never got missed by mistake after all. If you sat in direct sunlight, it needed to be clearly visible. Good. He moved over the beef, holding the copper close to it, nearly touching, but the unit stopped responding, it was obviously the mashed potatoes then. Or the gravy. Either way, he wasn't going to eat it.

"I can't tell which part in particular is poisoned though, unless I separated them