I was forced back into a conscious state by a loud horn, then a very loud, very angry, very large man. Did I mention very loud, yes, he liked to yell.
“Get up you lazy sudworms, today is the first day of my worst nightmare. Training you tossers. That means I am now your worst nightmare. I want all of you dressed and out in front of the barracks in five minutes.”
Bringham and I were actually the first ones out, he is the first dressed but I move a little faster and am out in front first by about three seconds. We are also the only ones to be on time, barely. Ten seconds later the last of the new recruits arrived.
“Why are the two newest recruits the only ones out here on time. Congratulations two new recruits. You just became my slaves. You shall each lead half of this platoon, starting with their morning run. This means you have to come in first.” The drill instructor put on a dastardly smile. “Since you are so quick, you better be first. If you are not, you will have extra fun time with me.” The drill instructor then looked at the other recruits. “If one of you beats these two recruits, you all will get the day off. You will be running the fence, five times. Any questions? Good!”
Bringham and I immediately fell out and took off sprinting. I instantly knew running was one of my strong suits. Brigham was better, but I was not to far off, or so I thought. After the first lap along the inside of the two mile fence line, the drill instructor told us we forgot our running attire, and handed us harnesses with weights on them totaling sixty pounds, then he told us to start over.
With the added weight Bringham easily outpaced me, but he stuck with me out of courtesy. This solidified my decision to fully trust the boy. “Hey, Ghost.” I said between heaves of air. He glanced in my direction in acknowledgment. “I, had, a strange, dream, last night.” I paused for more breath. “I saw strange things, small people in tubes that performed for you, carriages that moved on their own, boats without sails and buildings as tall as the sky, made of glass. But the really strange thing was, they felt like memories... places I know... or used to.”
Bringham raised his eyebrows in disbelief, he did not say anything though, I thought it was weird, but I took it and moved on. “That's not all, there were metal birds as big as a castle and they took people to the stars! Then a bright blue orb spoke to me, it said,”. I stopped, and sucked air for a few moments. Bringham wasn't pleased with the suspense.
“He said, ‘You have earned an arduous fate, but this is not one to be taken lightly, for it will affect all worlds, and all beings. You shall be thrice tested, and live your mortal life. Your first test starts on this continent, knowledge has been given and taken in accordance of the Law. Find the Instrument of the Spectre.’”
It was then Mr. Run for miles, ate dirt, and I laughed, helped him up, and asked why he suddenly got hungry. “Oi, you're a real cut up aren't you? Ha ha ha.” Obviously he was derisive. “You spake of the Instrument.” I gave him one of those “so what?’ looks. “The Spectre is a warrior whose stories we all hear in childhood, his Instrument is something scholars and adventurers seek. None have found it. But it is an object of mythical power of unknown properties. Let's talk about this later.”
“What? You're just going to leave me in suspense like that?!” I was yelling at his shrinking form as he started running again. I sighed and took off after him.
“WHY ARE YOU STEALING ALL THE AIR!” The drill instructor drilled into my head. His face was one inch from mine, and to be honest I was kind of freaking out.
“I apologize, I, am, tired, I, do not think, anyone else, will die, from lack of, oxygen”
“When you address me you will address me as Sergeant Balk, I am not your friend, I am your God and you are my bitch, drop down and give me twenty push-ups!”
For some reason arguing seemed foolish, so I quickly complied, then stood up. “Did I give you permission to stand up recruit? Give me twenty more.”
Again arguing that permission was implied, or that the situation was unfair, seemed like a dumb idea. When I finished, I asked to stand and my request was granted.
A man came sprinting over to Sergeant Balk, he snapped to attention and saluted with an open right hand over the heart. “Speak Private!” Balk said.
“Sir, the general requests that recruit Knighthorn and recruit Roarke to be at his office as soon as they are able.”
“Excuse me, it's Knight-thorn not knight-horn.” Bringham was indignant, it was obvious Sergeant wanted to make him do some push-ups, but not pronouncing the General’s name correctly was a much higher offense to him.
“You two are dismissed,” he said, almost reluctantly. Then he turned to the private. “HOW CAN YOU FUCK UP SO BAD PRIVATE! IF I EVER HEAR YOU MISPRONOUNCE THE GENERAL'S NAME AGAIN, I'M GONNA TATTOO IT TO YOUR EYEBALL!”
Bringham and I stealthily and expediently extricated ourselves, and moved to the General’s office. It was a short run. When we got there we were treated by an officer and immediately shown in. I had this strange feeling that there should be more “hurry up and wait” in an army. We entered and saluted, I mimicked what the messenger gave Balk.
“Ah, Roarke, thanks to your… contributions, I was able to grant the request of everyone who has been hassling me for more budget. Now no one is bothering me and everyone is happy. To bad it won't last, running a rebellion is expensive. I finally have some peace though. It feels like I'm on a vacation! I just wanted to give you thanks. You may go back now.”
I paused in thought for a bit, then made a decision. “Actually sir, I had a dream last night, in the dream I was told to look for the Instrument of the Spectre, Bringham told me a little about it but I don't know what it is. I do know that I have to follow this.” I pulled out another coin, “it seems like you are on the right side of things, I do not know enough about the situation in this country, but you seem a righteous man, and I hope you succeed. Unfortunately, I can not continue in service.”
The General was not surprised at this turn of events or he did not show it. The man could only be surprised once, I believe I made the right choice. “I think we can compromise, you said you got this in a dream, then magic is in play, and if Spectre magic is a possibility, I want it on my side, first you need to find it. The points I brought up the last time we spoke were not false, in fact they may be under embellished. Having military credentials would help your path. The amount of regulations I would be bending is perfect for this situation. Why don't you lead a special task force, a small team of spies that have few ties with the military, but are exceptional nonetheless.”
“I have need of this sort of team, I believe your quest will require much travel, our goals are different but I believe our methods could align.”
“I'll agree, for now, but I cannot make any promises.” The General seemed pretty intent on getting me to join his army, the only reason I was even considering it was Ghost. From what I can tell it has been his desire for a long time. I had not known him for long but I could see it was in his heart. It was not a huge inconvenience for me however.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“I guess that is the best I can get, why don't you finish the next two weeks of basic training, get a feel for army life. I'll have an actionable plan by then.” Knoghthorn sat in his chair, ending the conversation. Ghost and I saluted and left.
The next two weeks progressed very quickly. Whatever time I did not spend sleeping or eating, I was running or learning. I learned basic military skills and responsibilities, and I ran until I could run the fence five times then do an obstacle course, then do push-ups and pull-ups in an eighty pound harness. It was easily the worst two weeks of my life. Ghost on the other hand, had a far easier time. He only was required to do fifty pounds, and he had grown up doing these things already. I also learned I was good with a sword, average with a bow, extremely adept with a stave or hand to hand.
It was three days after a fortnight when General Knighthorn requested our presence. And by requested I mean, yanked us out of our cots an hour past midnight! This ended up being unfortunate for the General as Ghost was a light sleeper and was awoken by his father's soft footsteps. I was startled awake but after multiple events of our kindly drill instructor doing the same thing, we had pinned the “enemy” before we realized it was our commanding officer. After some embarrassing apologies, of which he waved away, he told us to grab our things and meet outside.
“I just received word, the Mage School of Scholars and Healing, they are willing to allow us to take their best healer in their institution to be put on your team, but you must make it to Pteraria a week before graduation, you must leave immediately!”
“Actually sir, I don't want their best healer.” I already knew I didn't want that. The best healer would be needed for bigger jobs.
“Why?” I could see the his eyes were confused and a little angry.
“The best healer should be used for a bigger job, have another squad, perhaps led by Sergeant Balk to take that healer and travel town to town healing and helping people.”
“That's… an excellent idea.” The rebel leader paused in quandary. He looked at me and said, “come on.” He brought us back up to his office. “I am writing an order, this will allow you the week before graduation to choose a squad mate.” He explained this while writing on a piece of parchment, then folded it and dripped wax on it. He used a golden seal to press the wax, it had the coat of arms for… after seeing the symbol, knowledge started appearing in my head.
Images flash in my head, an old castle, distinct and grand. It looked forgotten, shrouded in nature. An old crown, made only of iron, but I had the feeling it held tremendous power, and it was more regal than any other pate of gold, adorned with jewels. The last image was of an escutcheon which had the form and bore the portrait of a dragon. The shield shimmered as nine more came out from behind the first. As the last image faded, it was replaced by a soft blue glow, and I heard a rumbling voice say, “Kariorcht som lok, Roark som narath, phizrak vo Malika.”
“Question.” I called out, “what do an old castle, an old crown, and a shield with a dragon mean have to do with anything.” I of course know that I sound like a loon, but who knows? It might lead to something.
“The dragon shield is easy, dragon riders carry them, or did, there are only two left. About two hundred years ago, people stopped feeling the call, it was how one new they were dragon riders. The remaining riders have slowly died off, or traveled far away. Only two remain on the continent.” Bringham had a glint of awe in his eye as he spoke. Then a question appeared on his face. “Why do you ask?”
I was apprehensive at first, a proverb came to mind, “The only way a person can keep a secret, is to tell themselves, and pray for amnesia.” At the same time, I had agreed to trust Ghost, and unneeded his father's help. “When I saw this symbol, I had a vision, it had those three things, then I heard the words, ‘Kariorcht som lok, Roark som narath, phizrak vo Malika.’
The General was so surprised he had to actually sit down, but he covered it well, half way through the action, he recovered into a thoughtful pose, as if he had intended it all along. “It is said, in the beginning, the elves could only sing, the dwarves could only hum and drum, the gnomes could pull strings, the dragons could roar, and man was silent. Because man was a fragile existence, they listened and learned. When the others fought through strength, speed, and magic, they fought with wisdom and intellect.”
“In time there was a wise man, Iditus, he looked out and wanted peace for all creatures. But he knew it would take strength of body, and word of mouth to achieve. The dwarven drums were too short, the elves songs too long, and the gnomish strings too complex. The dragon’s roar, now that was power, that was real. Iditus morphed the dragons roar into a sound that could be made with a human throat, he made the first language. The only sound he made his own, was the sound that represented his creation. Idiomas, after his own name, he was the father of language.
A few years later, war broke out, the elves and dwarves and gnomes were fighting the dragons. They saw them as mere beasts. It was at this time a boy of seven summers, named Roark, had just learned the word for dragon, “draichku” he spoke it as barely a whisper, but a magic flowed from his soul. Golden threads rose out of his Che's and braided into a tight cord that shot off into the horizon. The boy felt a call, needles of danger he took off into the wilderness. He traveled for weeks, never stopping never resting, it was only the magic that sustained him.”
The boy traveled into the mountains to the home of the dragons. Huge magic led him to the tallest mountain and the boy climbed, and climbed, and climbed. He had climbed so high his body was numb from the cold, but the magic kept his body from darkening. His spirit led him to a cave, one that seemed to go on for miles and it did, it cut through the mountain and on the other side there was a beautiful valley and the sun shone on him and warmed his body. The boy got all the way down to the valley floor before he was noticed. Then hundreds of dragons raced to tear him to pieces. The boy looked in fear and yelled ‘Stav!’ Or ‘stop’ as we now know it. Every single dragon in the valley halted. For this little boy, this possible spy, or soldier, had just spoken in a way they understood. The leader of the dragons, their queen landed in front of the boy. She roared in attempt to ask who the boy was, her roar was received with understanding from the boy. The boy spoke in Draig to her. I spoke the name of your people Draichku and a magic welled within me and called me here.
The dragons were awed by the boys command of their roar. And astonished, for here was one of those smaller beings who thought of them as equals not as beasts. The queen was amazed but not quite surprised, for she had seen a golden cord enter the egg that housed her son, her first son, the one whom had not hatched since time began. She had never destroyed it as was proper as she couldn't bring herself to do so, but now she knew she had made the right choice. For when the chord struck the egg hatched and a strong baby dragon fell out. The queen lifted the boy and brought him to her home. She raised the boy as her own and the boy grew up beside his bonded dragon. When the boy became a man, he and his dragon found they could manipulate the Aether at such an intense level, there was no other mage of any race who was their match.
Riding on the back of his dragon, who was named Drake, Roark ended the war, united the races and ascended the throne of the continent. It has been fifty thousand years since that time and the continent has been broken and reunited countless times since then. The only reason any of this knowledge is still known is the dragons. Now the human kingdom is in civil war, and the other races have cut most ties with us and each other.”
Ghost and I look at each other and laugh as the General’s story comes to a close. “General,” I said, “you missed your calling as a historian.” That was new, historians in Teleria were like traveling bards, yet the poke the stories, sometimes acted, but they normally didn't sing. Historians were scholars who liked to teach. I still didn't know how or why I was getting this information.
The General ignored our laughter, and pushed passed the humor. “I tell you this because that was Draig Idiomas, or the Dragon Language. And it translates to, ‘The Kingdom is rising, Roarke is coming, Specter and Heir.’”
“What…”
“I don't bloody know what it means!” General Knighthorn interrupted me. “Here, take this!” He said shoving a pen and notepad in my hands. “It is spelled, writing a message here will instantly transpose it to its partner.”
“So it's like texting.” The thought popped in my head, but I did not know where it came from.
“What is texting? If there is another way to do this I must know how.”
“It's… well I don't know, it's like this.” I pointed to the magic notepad.
The General sighed, clearly disappointed. “No bother, be careful with it, this is one of only five pairs that I know of, and opening and closing the book five times in two seconds will erase its contents. Now you must hurry, you have three weeks.”
We rushed back out to our mounts and kicked off to the gate. We were riding along side the fence and as we neared the gate we slowed, this slowing saved us from a nasty crash for a carriage pulled in front of us.
The carriage was white and gold and purple and beyond opulence, when the carriage halted a voice called out, slightly peeved at the abrupt stop. The door opened and out stepped a lovely little lady, I had this itching suspicion this was the real reason Knighthorn wanted us to hurry.