I squinted- stopped as we egressed from the shade elevator and took our first steps onto the savanna-like 50th floor: a green plateau as wide and spacious as any other floor in Corvus Academy. A vast, vacant space lined with annexes and catwalks and alcoves on the walls to either side of the shade elevators; giving unbridled views of the gelid plains and western coast lying beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows on the far wall.
Once my eyes readjusted to the blue-green glow of the early morning ambiance, I caught up to a waiting Jaimess to begin moving towards one of the many side paths spaced throughout the place. “Any idea as to what my great-grandfather wants?” I turned to him as we rounded the corner.
Jaimess chuckled lightly to himself before answering. “It seems that the word has gotten out that you’re looking for new vassals, Your Grace.”
“Is that so?” I rhetorically chuckled. In truth, I only needed around five or six vassals to achieve my goals. I needed highly skilled individuals who specialized in different things; for they would later govern entire aspects of my future empire and oversee their own subordinates. Toril would be the military commander, so to speak. Jaimess would oversee domestic, commercial, and administrative diplomatic relations. And Jonet would eventually lead a secret organization of her own. On top of that, I needed a chief engineer and a few other craftsmen. Tinkerers and artisans. The best in all the lands.
And I had plenty of time to test them.
“I’ll take a few of them back with us.” I amiably commented after a few moments of companionable silence. “So long as they meet my standards.”
Jaimess took on a curious expression but otherwise said nothing before trotting off to the end of the street-like corridor to hold open the ornate pair of double doors at the dead end.
I nodded my thanks and moved through the threshold to see my grandfather sitting crossed-legged on an elevated stage just opposite the door, his hands crossed before his chest like a gang leader overlooking his crew. Spread across the padded floors before him were a dozen or so clusters of five students maintaining a similar posture: legs crossed, hands resting on their knees and their eyes resolutely focused on my great-grandfather, creepily showing a few gold-capped teeth through a grin like that of the reaper’s lipless mouth.
Following Jaimess’ actions, I took off my shoes, then moved around the perimeter of the room until I came upon the stage and sat next to the old man. In turn, Grandpa Lich leaned to his left and smiled at me through his peripherals whilst proudly declaring. “These are my fifty-five best students.”
‘Uh-huh.’ I nodded to myself as I scanned each expectant face in the crowd; committing them to memory, then snapped my inquisitive eyes back to Grandpa Lich. “Best in terms of what?”
“Let them show you.” He grinned. Clapping his hands signaled his students to scramble without a word. To scatter from their seats and line up along the far walls of the dojo so as to reveal several large rings painted on the floor at regular intervals.
Two-by-two, students began yelling out indiscriminate words or indecipherable orders to one another as they sprinted to the center of the nearest ring to assume their stances. They then the next few minutes dueling each other before the screaming erupted again. And again they scrambled. Again, they sought opponents to engage with. Again, they dueled. For an hour and a half. An hour and a half spent with a wandering mind. It wasn't that they were bad; not in the slightest. Though they weren’t nearly as good as my vassals and I either. Especially after five years of constant high-intensity training. Why Grandpa Lich assumed I wanted or needed another fighter was my biggest question, yet he seemed all too eager to turn back to me with cheery eyes to gauge my impression after each notable engagement had been concluded. A gesture that only reeled in my wandering mind on a line of frustration. I could’ve been reading, after all.
After two hours had passed, fewer and fewer students were taking their places in the rings; giving me my cue to personally address both the students and Grandpa Lich to set the record straight. Thus, with a heavy sigh, I rose from my seat and silently stepped to the edge of the stage to center myself and once again scan the crowd of expectant, anxious, or indifferent faces before I began. “While I am honored to have so many of you willing to serve me, I have no need for more fighters. Toril O’Connell is my knight.” I declared, eliciting a few disgruntled faces and scowls within the crowd while an amused rumble came from behind me. “What I do have use for, however, are artisans.” I continued without pause. “I need a watchmaker and a tailor. And most of all, I need someone who can build things of both mine and your own design. If any such person is present, stand before me now.” I gestured to the padded floor below my feet.
It took a moment. But eventually, someone stood. Someone in the group designated as the five weakest students present. The socially awkward one I’d met in the library, in fact. Whose courage seemed to inspire another to stand. Followed by another. And another, until over a dozen or so students were standing tall below me.
I waited a few more minutes to ensure no others would approach before motioning for them to stand off to the side of the stage. “As for the rest of you.” I turned back to the crowd with a calm, reassuring demeanor. “If you truly wish to serve me, then become as physically, magically, and intellectually capable as possible. Find a skill to master. Or several. Cultivate wisdom. Learn to be a leader. Awaken your affinity cores if you are able to. Attend the magic academy if you are able to. Regardless of what you do, continue to cultivate your mind, body, spirit, and soul. And wait until I return to Odissi in nine years' time. If I am able, I will send for you personally. Otherwise, be on the lookout for the formation of a new guild- my guild. At which time, we’ll see if you all are capable enough to assist me.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Assist you in doing what, Son?” A devilish laugh rumbled through the air from behind me. “What is it that you need my students to be capable of?”
I turned, throwing a quick and nigh unnoticeable scowl to my Grandfather through my peripherals before turning back to the students with the same aura as before. “My goal is to cross the magical barrier and liberate the continent of Ulai from the creatures who’ve surely settled there over the last few centuries. From there, a new empire will be born. And once Maru has become prosperous, we will move on to explore the Mortal Plane in its entirety.
“Let it be known, however, that I will hold no ill feelings towards those who wish to follow other endeavors in life,” I assured them. “Even so, it would be wise of you to heed my words. No matter what cause you dedicate your lives to, forever strive to become the best version of yourself.” With a final nod, I stepped offstage and guided the contestants into a back room and deposited on them the thickest book I’d transcribed to date: an in-depth training manual and step-by-step guidelines on the art of horology. As well as a much smaller book about classical mechanics and simple machines, and a blueprint for a particular item that I designed for Toril.
“As I said before, I need the best watchmaker, tailor, and engineer among you. To that end, you will take part in a competition. You will study the principles I'll be passing on to you and in turn, will use what was learned to make something of both my and your design. The principles and grading standards will increase in difficulty each year; as will the number of competitors decrease. Indeed, those with the lowest quality items will be eliminated from the competition. Yet you will be graded independently in these three categories. Thus you may choose to put more effort into one over the other if you are confident in your skills. Regardless, keep in mind that you'll have all year to create the best version of your projects. So take your time and do your best.”
As one, the candidates clutched their books tightly to their chests and bowed resolutely, screaming. “Yes, Your Grace!”
Though I knew there were inherent flaws with this plan, I could only smile at their enthusiasm as I started for the door and gestured for them to file out. “I’ll go over the specifics with you all at a later time. Let us return for now.”
Frustratingly, I couldn’t even focus on a solution, as a great fuss could be heard echoing through the halls the moment we left the little room. A cacophony of jeers, complaints, and pleas bouncing through the door from the main training grounds; only to immediately quell to a blistering silence once I pushed through the door.
Calmly, I returned to my place behind and to the left of Grandpa Lich to lean into his ear and ask. “What seems to be the issue?”
“Evidently,” he chuckled, “there seems to be some students upset by your refusal for fighters. They claim they weren't a chance.”
“Well?” I turned back to the crowd without delay. “Is this true?” Many of them seemed to be too stilled by fear to respond; trapped in an uncomfortable silence, while the more timid or brazen of them threw disgruntled, yet hesitant gazes at me or hateful, jealous scowls at those behind me. “Let me guess.” I sighed after the long pause. “Some of you are under the impression that you’re a better match than Toril? That you’re stronger than him. That you can replace him as my knight?”
Grandpa Lich seemed to get a laugh out of that. From such a reaction and his actions thus far, it was obvious he intended to allow me to handle the situation as I saw fit. As a way to test my leadership abilities, I was certain, by figuratively throwing me to the wolves.
“Holy fucking shit,” I muttered through my teeth, then took a deep breath to displace my annoyance with some meditative pacing across the stage. “Magical ability. Physical prowess. Intellect. Those are the three things I’ve told you all to focus on, correct?”
“Yes, Your Grace!” They shouted as one.
“Ah, good.” I nodded, turning about to pace to the other end of the room. “I assumed you all only heard the first or second focus, seeing as how you’re all so centered on being nothing more than knuckle-dragging troglodytes who throw punches and fling spells at whatever moves. “So.” I stopped center-stage and turned to face them once again. “If that’s all you want to do, that’s exactly what we’ll do.”
They seemed to grow confused or rightfully intimidated by my words. Conversely, Grandpa Lich unfolded his arms from his chest and eagerly leaned forward, an anticipatory grin wrapped around his ancient face.
“Each of my vassals will occupy the floor for five minutes at a time.” I declared. “If any of you can beat any of them in a duel, you’ll have earned their place as my vassal. Understood?”
They again chanted their affirmations as I turned about to approach my vassals and gather them in a huddle.
“Listen,” I quickly said in a hushed voice. “From now until further notice, the rules of force escalation are as follows: Martial combat is always the first to be used; with or without weapons is up to your discretion. If that fails, switch to elemental manipulation and fusion. Your attributed magic should only be used last or when advantageous, that way your mana will be preserved. The only exceptions are for defense from lethal attacks and maneuverability.”
“Acknowledged and understood, Your Grace.” Toril nodded quickly.
“Toril, you’ll go first. Followed by Jaimess and Jonet last.” I looked at each of them in turn. “Everyone here is aware of Toril’s physical prowess. As such, I assume only the most confident students will challenge him. However, I assume many of them will go after you two.” I nodded towards Jaimess, then to Jonet before explaining further. “Jaimess, you and Toril are infamous here, I've noticed. That speaks for itself and leaves the majority of them to go after the one they underestimate the most. The one who appears to be nothing more than a caretaker who follows her master around wherever he goes.” I turned to meet Jonet’s ice-blue eyes to make sure she understood how that truly made me feel inside. To ensure she understood how upsetting it was to know that someone would think so lowly of my precious vassals; someone I’ve spent years training to be as self-sufficient and reliant as possible. “Make sure you teach them how deep their naivety runs.”
“I wouldn’t dream of doing anything less, Your Grace.” She bowed, hiding the sadistic scowl that’d spread over her face over the last few seconds.