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A Land Without Kings
Chapter 18: Fintan

Chapter 18: Fintan

Fintan and Vince came upon a brook of fresh running water, cold as the tongue could bare. It was a welcome relief to come upon a fresh water source. Their journey had stretched out across a couple months now, and there was no going back at this point. Their home base was destroyed. The Magi Temple was in ruins.

Fintan sat in the thick, swaying grasses up above the bank of mud that channeled the rush of flowing water. Vince made his way over slowly, sipping thirstily from his canteen as he moved towards a rock that provided a natural seat.

Vince had a content look on his face, happy with the day's work and travelling. His smile faded slightly when he glanced over at Fintan and his face gave nothing away. Vince stared straight ahead and took another large swig.

"Don't smile so much."

Vince was confused. "Who's to say I can't smile?"

Fintan turned his body to face Vince and he knew he had spoken wrongly. "You are an apprentice of a Magi Knight. Know your place, young one." His words came out in a grumpy utterance.

Fintan continued, "The way of a Magi Knight has a lot to do with mentality and outward behavior. Giving away your emotions and your state of mind puts you at a disadvantage."

"Yes, master Fintan. I understand now."

"No, I don't think you do. But I can teach you, through time. I once had a master who didn't speak a word to me until the first time that I attacked him."

Vince almost choked on his own spit. "You attacked him?"

"It was after a week of solitude during the first week of training. We had just finished hunting the wild night wolves of the Polar Reziks up in the mountains. He would do this thing where when I didn't do exactly what he wanted, he would just chuckle and shake his head dismissively. It took me four days, but I finally pierced a night wolf with an arrow right through the rib as it sprinted across my line of view. He did the usual snort of disappointment and I lost it. I yelled at him and he still did not speak. I said some bad things, being a poor tempered apprentice, and then I shoved him."

"And then what happened master? Did he say anything?"

"Oh yes he did. He called me a foolish child. And then he swatted me so hard I broke my nose and bled until I passed out."

Vince was laughing and as a smile covered his young face.

"This is what I am saying. Do not laugh. You are vulnerable in this moment. Next time you laugh freely I will break your nose with the back of my hand."

Vince used all of his might to compose himself and then sat quietly, confused as to how he should feel.

Fintan continued, pulling the back of his cloak up from under him so it was not pulling tightly against his neck. "I will tell you some things because it is important that you know the state of the realm. First of all, do you know the three continents?

"Modena, Aina, Keyhor?"

"Yes, and Biguchi—although it is a separate nation of its own—it formed after the splitting of the tundra after the great war."

"Oh. Yes, of course." Vince was still conscious not to smile.

"Right now, there is dominion amongst three different people's groups over each of the three continents. The continent of Modena in which we stand is the land unknown in this moment. It is said that darkness is free at last from Mestrane, but for now this land is controlled by the power of the Magi Order, knowingly or unknowingly by the people. The land of Aina is controlled by necromancers who migrated from Adrossi—the origin land of necromancers. Do you know how the practice of the necromancy started?"

Vince tried to recall on all that Fintan had attempted to teach him some days back when they talked history for hours on end.

"Are they the ones who despise Magi Knights?"

"In a way you are right. In the Age of Darks Arts and Magic in 900 to 1200, necromancers broke off the royal bloodline from Ednord the Great and started using the power that was contained within the order for other things—things that would bring glory to themselves and not the realm. That is for another time, however."

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Vince took a final swig of his canteen and tossed it aside into the luscious green grass.

"Lastly, the continent of Keyhor. That is the land of bloodshed where the evil in men's hearts is most evident. The spirit and influence of Ednord never reached those lands. Therefore, the land is chopped apart by war and famine."

Vince was interested now, he loved talking about war and fighting, it reminded him of home—when his father would tell him all the stories that he cared to hear in the few times he was able to see his father. He wondered briefly if he would be here right now as an apprentice to a great Magi Knight if his father were still here. Maybe he would still be working in the stables back at the castle. Vince realized Fintan was still talking, and he was speaking louder now to try to penetrate Vince's lost look as his thoughts had drafted away.

"Vince! You must learn to listen. You will never survive beyond living in my shadow if you do not learn about the realm for yourself. Your family is gone, your friends are gone, it is the Order of the Magi that should concern you now, and only that."

Vince snapped, "Listen, master, instead of babbling out a historical timeline to me, why don't you start getting me up to speed with what's relevant? Why are we even tracking this army that is headed to meet its own doom in Mestrane? There is nothing for mortal man in Mestrane—you said it yourself!"

Fintan leapt at Vince from his position on the rock and shoved the boy down onto the ground, landing with his forearm at his throat and his dagger tip lightly rested on Vince's chin. Vince maintained his look of vigor, nonetheless. Fintan tightened the force of his forearm.

"Listen here, boy, that is no way to speak to a master. You're lucky you are with a master of great patience, or I'd have that brook of peaceful water rise up and swallow you until you strangled under its current. Now I'll tell you why we are travelling. But I'm going to need some respect from that wild tongue of yours, you hear me, boy?"

Fintan let Vince shove him off, and Fintan rolled off. Although Fintan did not show it, but he liked the fire in the eyes of Vince that he saw, it was anger that could be channeled, in the future, he knew (or certainly he hoped.)

The two sat in the grass across from each other, Vince didn't allow his face to soften, but Fintan was nonplussed. "There is a bigger threat from Mestrane than you know, that is not often talked about. It was before the Age of Men. Before the land, the entire realm as we know it, was populated as it is. There was a small tribe of men before all of us. And these men were trusted to take care of the realm, to love it, to be one with it. Entrusted by the one ruler over the land. But as is the case with men, it was never enough to satisfy the hungers of their hearts. The hearts of men are often evil, and even the best of that tribe of men fell to their desires."

Vince was interested, but unwavering. Fintan wondered to himself if Vince was interested or if he thought this was another dull history lesson for him.

"The man who was given the most responsibility was a man named Elri'ktor. Elri'ktor was a man who had control of the will of men who served with him. Meaning, he could manipulate man however he chose, with the intent being that he would keep straight the ways of those men who tended to the realm with him."

Vince was visibly intrigued now, seeing where this was going. Fintan, encouraged by Vince's intrigue, continued on, "And from the rich lands of Mestrane, intended for those who obeyed Elri'ktor, Ler Eredictora, as they called him, would earn themselves high sage inside the beautiful gardens and palace of that land."

"Wait, so what happened to Elri'ktor?" Vince couldn't wait.

"Well, I'm getting there. Elri'ktor was a fool to think that his creator did not take notice of his choice to abuse his abilities. However, because he was not the only man who had a fool's heart, but rather all the men of the tribe had a fool's heart, the creator allowed them to fall into their evil ways, and in this way, the world became cursed as it is. Conflict, war, battle, death, and disease begins to run rampant in the lands. Division amongst the tribe occurs, and Elri'ktor casts away many of his men to different, poorer parts of the realm, and thus the different nations of the world began."

Vince opened his mouth to speak but Fintan cut him off again, "Silence boy! Do you need a knife to your throat always to silence you?"

"Elri'ktor lives today. His body passed away, but his gift as caretaker of the realm has not perished, so his form takes different shapes. He may appear as various things, plants, or creatures. Yet, his ultimate form, would be that of a person. However, once he returns as a person—that is his last physical form before his gift perishes, and even his gift and his spirit is removed from the realm."

"Where did you learn this? I don't believe it. How do you know that's all true?"

"Vince, I heard these things from those men before me, who carry on this truth from many before them. It is essential knowledge of the Magi Order. You must trust me."

Vince pursed his lips, and Fintan knew it would take some work to sway his mind.

"This is why we pursue Torval Rainblood's army—because an army that powerful, heading for Mestrane, can never be good for the rest of us."

"Why? Won't the army just get obliterated by the men who no longer live under the curse of Mestrane? King Steed and his army of the Deranged Men?"

"Possibly. But we do not know what Ler Eredictora has in mind—he may use that army as his chance to conquer. He may take his form as King Steed. There is no telling what he may do."

"Why don't you just use Elri'ktor's real name?"

"It is not good to speak such a name so often. Stop using it."

"I'm going to call you Elri'ktor, master."

Vince grinned, hoping for a returning smile but Fintan shot him daggers with his eyes, but only for a moment. Fintan let out a chuckle and the two laughed for a bit and then took off to track down Torval Rainblood's mighty army.