Element Wielder (The Void Wielder Trilogy Book 1) (4 page)

CHAPTER 7

The year he spent training and living with K’ran passed much quicker than Falcon would have wanted. He had countless treasured memories.

A large grin spread across his face as he awoke to the sweet aroma of sugared porridge that permeated his room. No doubt his mentor had already prepared breakfast. However, his smile disappeared when he remembered that this was to be his first day at the academy.

When the royal academy had refused to take him in earlier that year, Falcon had breathed a sigh of relief. But to his misfortune, the royal academy wasn’t the only battle school in Ladria. The Rohad Academy of mercenaries was always another option. The grandmaster of the Rohad academy was one of the few people who still held K’ran in high regard. At K’ran’s request the grandmaster had accepted Falcon into the academy without hesitation.

Falcon dragged his feet to the chair at the end of the room where K’ran had set out his clothes. He picked up the white collared-shirt all the male first-year students wore. It was bland and boring, like his time at Rohad promised to be. His eyes drifted to the scene outside the window. The sun was out and a light breeze blew through the green leaves. It was a perfect day to go hunting with K’ran.

The bed creaked loudly as Falcon threw himself on it and stared up at the log ceiling.
This is so unfair! Why do I have to go?

“Almost ready?” called K’ran from the kitchen.

Falcon sighed. “Yes, I’ll be there in a minute.”

He pulled on his blue denim pants and black denim jacket. A student jacket usually had the family crest embroidered on the back. Falcon had no such insignia. Just one more sign to publicly declare he didn’t belong.

As he buckled his belt, he considered pleading with K’ran to let him stay, but he quickly abandoned the idea.
What’s the use?
He had already begged K’ran over a dozen times.

“A child needs to make friends and see the world,” was always K’ran’s answer.

Make friends, huh.
The idea of
him
making friends was beyond laughable. The year had done little to lessen the resentment people held toward him because of Albert’s infamous betrayal. He was met with hateful looks and whispers the few times he had ventured into the kingdom.

Falcon dragged his duffel bag behind him as he entered the kitchen. A cherry-wood bowl of sweet porridge sat on the small table flanked by sides of ham and pichion eggs. Above it sat a bowl overfilled with dried berries. It was his favorite morning meal.

“Nothing better than a good breakfast to begin the day,” said K’ran, handing Falcon a mug of steamed milk. “I can see you’re excited about your first day at Rohad.”

Falcon loved steamed milk. Nonetheless, he tried to sound as uninterested as possible. Maybe if K’ran saw how miserable he was, he might reconsider the idea of sending him away.

“
R-iiiight.
I can hardly contain myself,” said Falcon, throwing up his hands in mock celebration. “I’m sure all my friends at Ladria are dying to see me too. They’ve been bored without anyone to pick on for the last year.” He took a seat opposite K’ran as he nibbled on a piece of sizzling ham.

K’ran smiled and poured milk into his over-sized mug as silence filled the room.

The more time passed, the more his sense of guilt increased.
Is this really how I’m going to treat the person who took me in? The person who trained me every day for the last year? I’m thirteen. Time to grow up.

“I’d guess I better get going,” he whispered, finishing the last of his porridge. He got up and gave K’ran the strongest hug that he could muster. “Thanks for everything. I’ll miss you.” It wasn’t goodbye forever. He would still be able to see K’ran during summer breaks, but otherwise he would have to remain in the school dorms for the majority of the school year.

“Take care. Don’t forget that you can’t control how others react toward you, but you can always control how you react to them. Don’t let anyone change who you are.” K’ran straightened Falcon’s collared shirt. “Now go or you’ll be late.”

Falcon took one last look at his mentor who had become like the father he hardly knew. He threw his duffel bag over his shoulder and marched out the door. A strong gust of wind slapped him across the face as soon as he stepped foot outdoors.
Great. Just great.

He took a breath and began his descent toward the city. Halfway down the steep hill he turned and took one last glance at the cabin where he had spent the past year. To a stranger, the small wood-framed cabin would appear to be a sad, desolate place with a small whitewashed fence separating it from the surrounding forest. But Falcon knew better. The chopped logs in the corner of the yard brought back memories of the day he and K’ran spent searching the forest for the best trees to cut. The brick chimney that popped out of the roof took him back to the entire week they spent building it. It had been tough work, but fun. The log roof reminded him of the nights he spent up there gazing at the stars. Everything in the cabin had a memory, a story to tell.

Unable to continue watching, he turned away and continued down the path. This time he did not look back.

~ ~ ~

Aya stared at the mob of students who shoved and pushed their way through the school gates. They were all in groups of two or more. She scanned the horizon for any of her friends, but saw none. It was then that she saw him: the infamous Falcon Hyatt. His emblem-less jacket made it obvious who he was.

She had heard many of the less than flattering stories about him. For this reason she found it surprising that the boy before her did not have the monstrous features she had heard so much about. In fact, he was rather handsome. He had short curly eyelashes and sea colored eyes that easily stood out from everyone else in the crowd. Which was easy to do, since most Ladrians had circular, brown eyes.

Aya noticed that she wasn’t the only one who had seen him. Hiromy, the emperor’s daughter, and her friends stared at him as if he were a piece of meat. Their eyes sparkled as they giggled and spoke in hushed whispers to one another. Falcon did not seem to notice them. In fact, he looked confused
. Is he lost?
She couldn’t tell, but she decided she would find out. After all, her parents had always told her to help those in need. What better time than now?

~ ~ ~

Falcon stood at the double gates, his mouth gaping. He had never seen such gigantic doors. They had to be over forty feet tall. They were made of dark brown wood with deep carvings of wild animals adorning them. He made out a lion, a pichion, a bear, a hawk and a tiger, but the rest of the animals were a mystery to him. A crest of a silver dragon shooting gusts of wind and water adorned the center of each door.

“You know, if you keep your mouth open like that you might just catch a fly for breakfast.” A soft tap landed on his shoulder. He turned just in time to see a girl withdraw her hand.

Falcon had never seen a more beautiful girl in his life. Her face was a perfect mix of Ladrian and Asian features. Her eyes had a slight almond shape.
One of her parents must be from one of the three kingdoms of the South.
Her ebony-colored hair fell down to her lower back. She wore a white blouse and a black skirt that ended above her knees.

“Are you lost?” asked the girl, smiling as she extended her hand.

“I…um, no, not really.” He clenched his sweaty hands, trying to disguise his nervousness, though he was sure he was doing a poor job of it. Then he saw the fire lion insignia on the girl’s blouse. He recognized it immediately. How could he not? It was the crest of one of the most influential and corrupt families in Ladria, the Nakatomi family. His admiration for the girl dissolved.

She examined him from head to toe as if sizing him up. “I should properly introduce myself, I’m Aya Nakatomi, from the Li—”

“I know what family you’re from,” interrupted Falcon. “I recognize your family crest. You’re a Nakatomi, one of the richest and most pampered families in Ladria. My brother beat yours at the royal academy match a few years back. Your brother threw a fit over it. He yelled to the entire arena that at least he was a Nakatomi, not a street rat like my brother.” 

Aya’s smile disappeared. “I’m not my brother. You of all people should know better than to judge someone because of what their family has or hasn’t done. Excuse me.” She stormed off without looking back.

Falcon was a little surprised by her response, but after a moment of reflection it all made sense.

What else should I expect from a member of a noble family?
She acted as if he mentioning her family bothered her. But Falcon was certain all she really wanted was a reason to get away from him. She probably hadn’t expected to hear that Albert was his brother. That’s why she excused herself as soon as she found out. She didn’t want to taint her reputation by having people see her talking to him.

Situations like these were the reason Falcon did not want to attend Rohad in the first place.

He stalled a while longer outside the academy’s entrance. More students made their way through the gates. A few stopped and pointed at him, but not as many as he had expected. After a few more minutes of delaying the inevitable, he squared his shoulders and trudged through the giant double doors.

CHAPTER 8

The knot in Falcon’s stomach grew with each baby step he took.

A castle that consisted entirely of blue, polished stones loomed before him. At both ends of the castle a single tower rose into the sky. A long winding brick path stretched from the entrance gates to the castle doors; countless pine trees decorated the horizon; a crystalline lake, filled with small lily pads, sparkled under the morning sun; and lush green vines crept up the castle walls. Some even extended as far as the castle roof.

He made his way into the main entrance, passing by other first year students who sat on stone benches. Most of them appeared even more perplexed by the castle than he. Their eyes sparkled and their mouths hung open.

He crossed the white marble floor. Dozens of statues of ancient warriors breathed life into the large room. The painting of a large man standing on a battlefield with his chin held high caught his eye. The person in the painting looked strangely familiar. He searched for a description. That’s when he noticed a golden plaque directly under the painting. It read:

The Grand General victorious

at the Battle of Red Sand.

Falcon’s jaw dropped. It was K’ran! Except in this painting he appeared to be much younger, perhaps in his mid-twenties. He silently wondered how a man who served for over thirty years as Grand General could be dismissed so easily.

A sharp sound suddenly interrupted his thoughts. He looked up at the dozens of flights of stairs that led to various sections of the castle. A tall, skinny man in a black robe made his way down. His thunderous footsteps drowned out the students’ conversations.

The man reached the last step and scanned the grand hall. Now that he was closer, Falcon had a much better view of him, and it wasn’t a pretty sight. The man’s cheekbones popped out through his white skin. His raven-black hair pocked up out in a messy heap. He resembled an incarnation of death more than any man Falcon had ever seen.

Regardless of his looks, the man commanded attention. All the students froze under his gaze. Few students dared to utter a word. The ones who did, spoke in hushed whispers.

“It’s the snake,” muttered one of the older students under his breath.

Snake?

“Lizten up!” hissed the man as soon as he reached the bottom step. “All ztudent’s are to report to the dining hall at once.” Now Falcon understood. The man dragged every “s” letter a second too long, which caused many of his words to sound like a hiss.

A trembling student, no bigger than four feet tall, slammed into the man. The boy’s books scattered to the floor. “Sorry. Could you please help me with my books?”

The man shot a look of disbelief at the boy.

The kid staggered back into a wall, all the color gone from his face.

“What iz your name?” asked the man, pointing a long finger at the student.

“Chonsey Meloth, um—sir.”

The man leaned forward. He put himself face-to-face with Chonsey. “Well, Mizter Meloth, do I look like your mother?”

The boy trembled, and his eyes watered. Falcon pitied him. He knew all too well how it felt to be publicly humiliated. He was apparently the only one to feel any remorse for Chonsey. Most students pointed and giggled under their breath. A few low snickers and whispers filtered through the crowd.

“He wants to wail.”

“Go ahead, cry.”

“I wager two silver coins he’s going to soil himself.”

Chonsey straightened up. “Um, no, sir. You don’t look like my mother.”

“Well then, do it yourzelf. You can’t expect everyone to do everything for you!” The man stomped away, muttering to himself.

Falcon approached Chonsey and patted his back. “I’m sorry about all that.”

Chonsey wiped a tear. “Don’t fret about it, mate. You’re not to blame. Excuse me.” He took off running while covering his face. The students roared with laughter as he disappeared into a long hallway. Falcon wanted to go after him, but refrained. He had to report to the dining hall as the professor had instructed. The last thing he wanted was to end up like Chonsey.

He scanned the crowd. His eyes settled on a group of girls who wore crimson blouses—the color of third-year students. They no doubt would know their way around the castle. He followed them from a distance through the twists and turns of the hallways.

Out of nowhere, a large figure obstructed his path.

The same ape-kid from a year ago stared him down. He wore a large grin that revealed two oversized middle teeth. A patch of uncombed hair that looked as if it had not been washed since the coronation of the emperor popped up from his over-sized head.

“What are you doing here, bloke?” said Laars. “Did you forget about what your traitor brother did?” He made sure to say the word
traitor
loud enough for everyone to hear. The gaggle of students who flanked him snickered.

Falcon slammed his duffel bag on the floor. “My brother is not a traitor, you ape!”

“Ape! How dare you call
me
an ape?” Laars let out a forced chuckle as he looked back at his gang. It was obvious to Falcon that he had hit a nerve. “You don’t know who you stand before. I am Laars Masters, from the great Masters family. You should be honored to be in my presence. I’m a descendant of the legendary Golden Wielder. My father is an advisor to the emperor himself. My grandfather was the—”

“Oh, shut up. Are you seriously going to bore me with your entire family history?” A wave of laugher swept through the crowd. 

“A jester,” said Laars, turning back toward his lackeys once again. Falcon was beginning to wonder if this boy was capable of saying anything without looking at his gang of thugs for approval.

“Yeah, he is quite the comedian, ain’t he,” added Delita, pumping his fists. Delita resembled Laars physically in almost every way, except for his shiny bald head and half-closed eyes. He looked like he might fall asleep at any moment.

A crowd of students that had gathered held their breath. That’s when a student Falcon had never seen before stepped between him and Laars.

“I see you’re still too scared to face anyone without your friends behind you,” said the mysterious boy.

“Aaah, this is all so very touching,” mocked Laars. Though he couldn’t hide the anger in his voice. “The bloody traitor and the servant boy sticking up for another. Standards at Rohad must be really low this year if the likes of you were accepted. Now remove yourself and go to my horse stables where you belong. There is horse dung that needs cleaning.”

“I’m no longer under your family’s services, Laars. Here we’re all equals.”

“You will never be my equal, peasant,” exclaimed Laars. “You’re the son of a horse breeder. A worthless piece of rubbish. You were born as worthless dirt and you will die that way. Attending Rohad won’t change that.”

“If it didn’t mean getting kicked out of Rohad, I would have you eat those words,” the mysterious boy shot back. They now were face-to-face. The tension between them was palpable.

“I thought I told you all to report to the dining hall,” commanded a voice. The crowd of students dispersed in an instant. Only the mysterious boy, Falcon, Laars, and his gang remained.

“Mister Mazterz, remove yourzelf and your company.” Ape-boy and his gang snapped to attention.

“Yes, professor,” said Laars, making sure to bump Falcon as he backed away. “We’ll finish this later, peasants.”

The professor stared daggers at Falcon and his advocate. A drop of sweat traveled down Falcon’s forehead.
Perhaps I should explain what happened.
“You see, professor, we didn’t want any problems with anyone. Laars and his friends—”

“Don’t wazte your breath with liez and excuzez. I can zmell a troublemaker before they even know I’m there. And you both are troublemakerz. I can feel it.”

His unknown ally raised a finger in objection. “Professor, let us explain—”

“Quiet! You will adrezz me only when zpoken to.” The wrinkles on the professor’s face intensified as he creased his forehead. “I have my eye on both of you delinquentz. I do not know how you made into Rohad, but rezt azzured that you will not lazt. Now, remove yourzelvez and join the other ztudents at the dining hall.”

“Yes, sir,” answered both Falcon and his newfound companion in unison. They darted into a hallway and away from the professor’s gaze.

Once Falcon was certain the professor could no longer see them, he slowed his pace.

“Thanks for the help back there,” said Falcon. “I appreciate it.”

The boy waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t mention it. It was nothing.” He had an aura of confidence as he spoke.

Falcon took a better look at his rescuer. He was about the same height as himself, had short black hair, and wore the same white shirt that was required of all first year students. His chiseled jaw gave him a mature look.

“Where are my manners? I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Falcon Hyatt, nice to meet you. And you are…?”

“I’m Lao-Chan Keen. I know, I know, it’s a mouthful. Suppose the old man had had too much rum when he named me. Friends call me Lao, though.”

“Good to meet you, Lao. So if it’s not too much to ask, where did you and Laars meet?”

Lao rubbed his head for a few seconds before answering. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

Falcon chuckled. “Yeah, it is.”

“I come from a long family line of horse breeders. My great-grandfather was one, as were my grandfather and father. We served the noble families of Ladria for generations. We tend to the horses, clean up after them, train them, and groom them. One of the families we serve is the Masters clan; that’s Laars’ family. He’s been tormenting me ever since I was little.”

“And you never stuck up for yourself?”

“I couldn’t, I always feared a problem between us would sabotage my father’s employment. Here in Rohad, though, I can finally stand up to him. So when I saw his gang corner you I had to do something.” For a fleeting moment Lao seemed lost in thought. Then he returned to the present, “My father has been training me to take over the family business ever since I can remember. He always says, ‘Son, one day you will be the master horse breeder of the family.’ But I was born for so much more.”

“So what did your dad say when you told him you wanted to attend Rohad?”

“He was furious. Said that with my selfish attitude I brought dishonor on the family. He said a lot more, but I stopped paying attention halfway into his lecture. He doesn’t understand. He’s content to live his life as a slave to someone else. But I’m not. One day I will be the one with all the power and fame. Then I will see all those who mocked me groveling at my feet.”

“Power and fame aren’t everything,” countered Falcon. “I’m the brother of one of the best warriors Ladria has ever seen, and that has done little for my popularity.”

Lao shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “Yeah, I know your story. You’re kind of famous.”

“Yes, for all the wrong reasons.” Falcon was glad when he spotted the entrance to the dining hall. He didn’t like where the conversation was headed.

They glanced at each other, stuck out their chests and marched into the dining hall. He and his newfound friend were about to embark on a path that would forever change their lives—of that Falcon was certain.