Out of the corner of his eye, Pax caught another stone thrown in his direction. He twisted and hunched, letting it hit his back with a sharp pain and then clatter to the ground. Giggling was followed by a father’s scolding voice shooing them away, though there wasn’t much heart in it.
The guards had been pointedly ignoring the little cretins all morning, dressed up in their celebration best and using the immobile captives as target practice. Pax was pretty sure the whole point of them sitting locked up in full view was to warn others about what happened to anyone who refused to conform.
“Can’t you stop them?” Full of pent-up frustration, a boy a couple of rows over blurted out, glaring at the guard nearest him.
The bored man looked startled for a moment before letting out a derisive laugh. His neighboring guards joined in. Then he stepped forward, letting his smile fade, replacing it with a cold look of contempt that made the objecting boy flinch back and hunch his shoulders.
“Yeah,” the guard growled. “That’s what I thought. Shirking coward.” He stopped and raked over the others with angry eyes. “All of you! No more living behind safe walls that others shed blood to protect. It’s about time you learn how much it really costs.”
“Sorry, sir,” said a small elven boy, his entire body holding a submissive posture. “I’m sure he didn’t mean anything disrespectful. We’re glad to have the chance to contribute today. Don’t worry, we’ll behave.”
A few of the other prisoners scowled at the bootlicker, but none of them spoke as even the clinking of manacles and shifting of positions halted.
The man looked pleased at how cowed they were, but spat onto the ground toward the elf before turning and stalking back to his post.
“Why bother even Awakening them?” called out an arrogant voice.
Pax glanced up under hooded lids to see another elven boy standing from his fancy chair to peer in their direction. But this boy was so different from the other that he might as well be a different race. He had the pale features of a purebred with almost white hair, a slender nose and pale green eyes full of contempt.
“Just put them to work in the mines for as long as they last,” he said, making a dismissive motion with his hand.
Sounds of approval and laughter greeted his words.
The guard’s demeanor instantly changed. “I agree with you, Scion Galan,” he said with a respectful nod. “But they’ll be more useful and probably last longer with a class. And I’m sure you know how bad things are getting out there.” He paused to glance in the direction of the main gate. “We need all the bodies we can get, even if they are scum like this.”
The well-to-do elven boy preened under the guard’s respect and gave him a slow nod of agreement before sitting back down with friends who immediately began chatting and laughing with him.
Pax did his best to ignore the candidate section again, sitting there with families who supported them and would help them get the most out of their new classes. He tried not to think about how he might have sat happily among them if his parents had been left to run their tailoring business undisturbed.
A wave of weariness crashed over Pax. He’d been up most of the night and had nothing to eat or drink since the few mouthfuls of water in his cell. The main square had been filling up all morning, the festive atmosphere swelling in stark contrast to the gloom hovering over the prisoners.
“Let’s get this over already,” muttered a bitter girl’s voice from behind him.
Pax nodded in agreement without looking in her direction before forcing himself to scan his surroundings once again. At some point they’d have to be unfastened and led up to the stage. He wanted to be prepared if even a sliver of a chance to escape presented itself.
The bursting barrage of a bugle’s clear notes cut across the square, slicing through the dull roar of the milling crowd and catching everyone’s attention. The whole mood of the crowd changed. People hurried toward the benches, and parents herded children to find their seats.
“Finally.” The same girl’s mutter was just loud enough to be heard.
This time, Pax glanced back to see a sullen girl who looked about his age. Her raven black hair was jaggedly cut off at chin level, probably by her own belt knife, and while her head was tipped down, Pax caught a glimpse of distinctive green eyes that were alert and watching.
Her gaze caught his, and he almost flushed and looked away. Instead, he met her eyes until she finally gave him a curt nod before turning around. The encounter lifted his spirits. He wasn’t the only one still defiant and ready to fight back if given the opportunity.
The bugle blared in a sharp staccato a second time, and conversations hushed as a final few people slid into their seats. A quiet descended on the square until the only sounds were squawks from birds and the rustle of leaves from a breeze moving through landscaped trees.
It was uncanny, some prearranged signal that everyone else knew about. Pax wished he had Tomis by his side again to explain what was happening. Street rats hid during events like these when the guards were out and vigilant. Maybe he should have paid more attention to city business before this.
The bugle began to play again. This time a slow, drawn-out hymn full of mournful tones that tugged at Pax though he wasn’t sure why. On the far side of the square, a procession emerged, a column of four men abreast, their dark blue uniforms trimmed in the red of empire soldiers, much more striking than the silver of the Thanhil Guard.
Pax glanced at the guard who’d yelled at them moments ago and was surprised to see the respect and envy on his face as he watched the incoming procession. A collective gasp broke the silence of the square, and Pax turned back to see what had happened.
The soldiers wound their way through the aisles of the audience, and Pax saw that toward the middle of the line, groups of them were carrying long skinny burdens about the size of a . . .
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Pax swallowed hard as he realized there were bodies on the platforms the soldiers carried. The still forms were shrouded in ornate cloths, draped and tucked, but still with enough shape to make it obvious what they hid.
It was only when his eyes moved further along the column that he sucked in his breath in a mix of surprise and fear that mirrored the crowd’s response.
It was one thing to know that the soles of his shoes had come from the hide of an earth-based monster, but another entirely to see the severed head of one hoisted high on pylons. The massive trophy was so big it took four soldiers to manage it.
Pax gaped. It looked similar to the rats in the city, if a rat was the size of a small bedroom and had jutting teeth as long as a man’s hand. The beady eyes were large black orbs that still sent a shiver through Pax despite being lifeless.
He wasn’t the only one staring as the column of soldiers marched slowly past, giving everyone a chance to pay respects to the bodies and gape open-mouthed at the monster heads on prominent display.
Pax stared at another parading past, its slimy skin glistening and rounded snout propped open to display multiple rows of teeth that more than made up for their small size with quantity.
“Holy . . .” the whispered exclamation made Pax flick a glance over toward the black-haired girl to find her looking as amazed as he felt.
The final note of the bugle’s mournful tribute held for a long heartbeat before fading. Pax turned back to see the soldiers had arrayed themselves in front of the inner keep’s altar on the left side of the square.
Two groups of soldiers stepped out, carrying the shrouded bodies up the stone steps with solemn care. The crowd hushed further as the monster heads were propped up on a lip of the altar just below the main surface.
Pax couldn’t help being fascinated as the scene played out in front of him. There were so many pieces of city life he’d missed by living on the fringes. If he were about to be shipped off somewhere else as a servant then he would enjoy the show while he could.
A troop of three figures climbed up to the altar as the soldiers retreated, finally relieved of their grisly burdens. Pax thought the center, white-haired man must be the governor because of his fine clothing. The two behind him were busy watching the crowd, with the air of soldiers, though they didn’t wear uniforms. The distinguished man stepped forward and held up both hands for attention.
“Hello, my people. As your governor, I am pleased to greet all of you on this day.” His deep voice spoke out over the square with confidence and a volume that had to be aided by some kind of magic for everyone to hear him. “On this day that we celebrate the new lives of our youth, it is only appropriate that we start with a tribute to those who have given their lives to protect us all.”
He paused for a moment, and the crowd filled the space with soft murmurs of agreement. Even Pax found himself nodding his head and had to wonder what level the governor’s Charisma was.
“Bound to our city, their service in life has kept us safe. In death their life force will strengthen our defenses.”
Pax moved his gaze to watch the two shrouded bodies, not wanting to miss anything.
“City Flame Mage Llewel Asari,” the governor intoned, both hands moving toward one of the shrouded bodies. “The city of Thanhil accepts your sacrifice.”
Pax’s eyes widened as one of the shrouds suddenly sagged to the altar, the cloth fluttering and empty. A flicker of light shot from the altar to the front of the glistening ebony wall of the keep. The ball of energy sunk into the wall and then left a glistening trail as it shot upward toward the massive crenellations and disappeared.
Pax stared, slack-jawed, at the evidence that the improbable rumors were true. Something from the mage’s body had just poured into the inner keep and apparently strengthened it.
The governor had turned to watch the path of the energy and, now that it had disappeared, turned back to the waiting crowd. “Her life given that we may live,” he said with emphasis on each word as he bowed his head. “Thank you.”
A rolling murmur swept across the crowd as everyone repeated his words.
“Show some respect,” a guard hissed at them.
Pax hurried to join in. And he thought he might even mean it. The woman had died protecting his city, after all.
As the murmuring died down, the governor held up his hands for quiet again.
“Private First Class Gog Modir,” the governor spoke again, his hands moving toward the second body. “The city of Thanhil accepts your sacrifice.”
As everyone followed him through a repeat of the first ritual, the reality of what his future might bring struck Pax. More than anything, he wanted to escape and return to the familiar tasks of feeding and protecting his Viper crew.
The thrum of renewed conversations grew as the governor descended from the altar and made his way to the Awakening stage.
The soldiers formed up in crisp lines only to be given a barked dismissal. Shoulders relaxed and heads turned as they moved to join friends and family in the crowd. A group of laborers hoisted the monster heads onto carts and Pax watched as they took them down a side street, likely for processing. The teeth alone would make valuable spearheads or knife blades.
“Now for the celebration we’ve all been waiting for,” boomed the governor’s voice in a much more cheerful tone. “The Awakening of the best and brightest our future holds!” He swept his arms toward the candidate section.
As the crowd clapped and cheered, the candidates straightened with smiles, a combination of both excitement and trepidation scattered across their expressions.
Pax turned and shot a worried glance toward Tomis and Amil who were locked up too far away to do more than exchange looks.
Another cheer, and Pax looked up to see an assistant leading the first row of candidates up onto the stage to sit in a row of ornate chairs. The cut of their clothing and the confidence of their demeanors told everyone watching that these were the cream of the city's families.
The assistant then motioned for the first boy, a tall and handsome elf with a confident smile, to follow him to the pedestal placed at the center of the four mages.
Pax was gratified to see the boy’s step falter under the gazes of the capital mages. Around the square, quiet had descended again as spectators leaned forward to get a good glimpse of the first Awakening of the year.
Looking almost bored, the four mages placed hands on the armrests of their chairs and with no warning, magic flared to life from both arms of all the mages. Bright flame shot toward gusting wind and plodding earth in streams as thick as the mages' arms. Across from flame, water did the same sputtering into the wind and being engulfed by the spear of earth.
Pax sucked in a breath and braced for an explosion as the magic burst free in an incredible display of power. But none came. Instead, the mages raised their hands until the four elements merged together into a ring of multi-colored power pulsing above their heads. Pax could barely make out the boy on the pedestal at the center and had to credit him with the bravery not to bolt.
The mages moved again, and the ring closed in, tightening over the boy until it had coalesced into a swirling ball twice the size of the boy’s head. After snatching a furtive glance above, the boy looked straight ahead, visibly working to straighten his shoulders and stay calm.
When it touched down gently on his head, the results were rather anticlimactic. The boy stiffened, and his eyes rolled back. Two assistants moved quickly to either side of him, leading him out of the way and making space for another candidate to take the place beneath the sphere of magical elements.
The first boy was led up to stand next to the governor. His eyes fluttered open, and his knees wobbled as a city mage whispered into the governor’s ear.
A smile spread across the governor’s face as he turned back to the podium to call out with enthusiasm, “A mage! Our first candidate is now a mage.”
The main square erupted in cheers, and Pax saw a proud, but shaky smile gleam on the new mage’s face.
“A promising omen for our city and wonderful start to this year’s Awakening,” proclaimed the governor.
One of the capital mages made an impatient gesture for the attendants escorting a well-dressed dwarven girl to the pedestal to hurry. On the other side of the stage, the first boy was stepping down into the arms of his smiling family for hugs, back-slaps and proud smiles.
As Pax glanced at the seated candidates waiting their turn and then to the other shackled youth nearby, he was pretty sure his turn would be a lot different.