The Last of the Sages (Sage Trilogy, Book 1) (6 page)

“We have high sounding brass and copper instruments to accompany our first wave into battle. In the beginning of this Kingdom as well as the former, we have had a shortage of men. Sometimes strategy is all we have. We cannot afford to go out into battle as some Kingdoms do, able to lose man for man, only winning simply because we have quantity. It is quality that we possess here, James. This is embodied in our motto: ‘We are not many, but they are few.’”

“So when they come out of the fog, the instruments are there to make the enemy think there are more than there really are,” James clarified.

“Yes. It is more of a fear of the unknown that betrays them more than anything else. We use that to our advantage. Every one of the four great Kingdoms have their own strategies to deal with invading enemies.”

“What are the four Kingdoms? What are their strategies?” he inquired, very intrigued, and feeling ashamed that he hadn’t focused in school. Of course, teachers didn’t threaten to slap you for not paying attention there.

“That is for another time, James. As it is, there is little time to tell you of this one.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “But I do have one more question. Why does the only gateway to the south side lead first into an empty courtyard? There are no weapons on the pillars, or places an archer can shoot an arrow from except for the balcony I noticed above us. There’s no incline or low ground to give us one advantage or another. It’s all just flat ground under an open sky. There isn’t even a soldier on guard here.”

“Not to mention the lack of space,” Arimus continued. “There is barely enough room to line up fifty men from one end to the other, let alone hundreds or thousands. Our infantry would be quite cramped and actually at quite the disadvantage.”

“Exactly.”

“James, do you know what the Sentinel Academy produces?”

“The Academy is kind of like the recruitment center for an army. This is where our infantry receive their training before going out into the world.”

“Very good. I see you have paid at least a tolerable amount of attention.”

“I have my moments.”

“James, the Sentinel Academy produces some of the finest men on the face of the planet. But where it truly shines is not through our infantry. You see, out of every one million students that step through our walls, a Sage emerges.”

“A Sage?”

“A Sage is usually defined as someone who is very wise, but there is more to it than that. When one becomes a Sage, they gain knowledge so profound, most faint at its very whisper. They acquire power that can rip an entire army in half with techniques and skills forbidden to and hidden from the common man. A paradoxical creature that is both mighty and servile. Fearless yet kind. These few become the strong arm of our Kingdom. They are actually the sole reason the Kingdom of Allay still exists today. If you could only see the brutal yet elegant swing of a Sage’s sword as he battles hundreds of men pouring in ten by ten through this very courtyard…you would believe your own eyes were lying to you. A Sage could not do his or her job surrounded by thousands of liabilities. That is why this courtyard was made for the Sage and the Sage alone. There is hardly a watchman at this entrance, yet it is arguably the most guarded in the entire Kingdom.”

James stared at the courtyard with newfound awe and respect. He had read of such men in the few books he had managed to read, but he never would have thought they actually existed. And to think, there was an academy, only a few hours from the house he grew up in, that could train a boy to become one of those men. It was not a question of chance, or whether you were born into royalty. It was about dedication and hard work.

Something, he knew, that he did not possess.

Yet, here he was, taking that first step in the right direction, standing on the very gravel of countless battles, gazing upon the marks of mysterious blades scarred into the courtyard pillars. He could see those men, fighting their once proud enemies, now falling in both fear and reverence to what they had once dismissed as mere myth. A Sage standing before them, cool, tranquil, waiting, not for his enemy to strike, but for his own adrenaline to reach its peak. For the moment his blood ran cold and his muscles methodically moved with the blade that had become one with his hand. Quick, and so hideously precise, the Sage would take his next breath and a Kingdom’s army would fall to its knees. For the first time, James was filled with a sense of breathtaking awe, and he never wanted to forget the feeling.

He wanted more, and there was only way to get it.

“Arimus,” he said firmly.

“Yes?”

“I want to be a Sage.”

“Oh?” Arimus replied, looking curiously at the young recruit. James stood resolutely, unwavering in his declaration.

“I’m serious,” he said.

“You and every other student that has or will enter that gate,” Arimus said, refusing to sugarcoat his words. “James, I do not mean to crush your spirits, but even the strongest of the infantry fall short of a Sage’s status. If you can’t even beat one such as Kyran, for example, you have no hope.”

“Kyran is part of the infantry?”

“Yes, but his position is not something to gawk at. He is a brigadier general in the highest division of the infantry. Not a Sage, but still very formidable.”

“And what about you?” he asked quickly. “Are you a Sage?”

Arimus lowered his eyes in sadness and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I wish I could say I was. Nothing would be a greater honor, but unfortunately, I am not.”

James looked away from Arimus in disgust, not because his new mentor hadn’t reached the coveted rank that so many strived for, but for the revelation that, in order to even think about becoming a Sage, he would have to defeat Kyran and Arimus in battle, two men he figured could take decades to surpass.

“Your visage betrays you,” Arimus said. “I know exactly what you are thinking.”

“Arimus, why couldn’t you be a Sage?” James cried out. “Did you not pass the test?”

He was practically yelling, but he couldn’t restrain himself. He just couldn’t come to terms that this man, the first he had ever seen that he believed he could actually look up to and aspire to become like, could not have reached the height of power. What went wrong?

“It’s not like I lacked the ambition. It was simply a matter of order. I was not destined to be a Sage, so I did not become one.”

Arimus trailed off, recalling past events. He came back to the present as soon as he could, and an amused smirk came over his face. He placed a firm and calloused hand on James’s head, who simply stood in awe at how the palm covered his entire crown. James glanced shamefully down at his own smooth, delicate hands, and scowled. They were so pristine, so inexperienced in all things known as work.

He could not become a sage with such hands.

“Few are able to keep me talking this long,” Arimus replied. “You must have a gift…but, it is getting late and you must retire for the night. Your questions will be answered as all things are…in time.”

Arimus opened the academy door and pushed the new student gently inside.

“Your temporary room is straight ahead beyond the winding stairs. You can’t miss it, and I must add one more thing. Tonight you do not get the privilege of exploration. Understood?”

“Sure,” James replied, unsure of what his words really meant.

“I would escort you, but I have some business to attend to. Good night.”

“Good night, Arimus.”

Arimus turned around and swiftly ran toward and out the steel courtyard doors before James could blink, opening their massive exterior with a simple, effortless shove - a phantom disappearing into the night.

James watched until he was out of sight, and then turned to enter the building, wondering just how Arimus looked so young yet had such gray hair. The shut of the oak doors behind him broke his thoughts and he sighed and looked around. There wasn’t much to see.

The most impressive feature of the gigantic lobby was the winding stairs that came from the east and west sides of the building. They spiraled downward and diagonally until they nearly touched in the center. In the center was an entrance, leading to a narrow hallway through which he couldn’t make out whether there was actually a room or even a door at the other end. The respective destinations of the winding stairs were also invisible from where he stood. But it seemed they led into grand halls of stadium or arena-like size. He surmised that the Academy as a whole was a lot bigger than he had previously speculated.

One of the more interesting features of the lobby (and it wasn’t saying much), were the various scratched-out or destroyed paintings that hung on each side wall, ten in total. For a moment, James considered checking out each of the paintings, thinking that maybe, just maybe, there was a picture of a Sage gracing the canvases, but he dismissed it almost immediately. The disappointment of finding there was none would be too depressing.

Other than the paintings, there was nothing noticeable in James’s surroundings, like statues or chandeliers, beautiful tapestries or intimate candles. All that stood out was the dreary gray that inhabited the room like a foggy odor. The room was painted gray. The paintings were framed in gray. The stairs were gray, the floor was tiled in gray, the marble walls were for some odd reason painted in gray. To be honest, his mood was starting to turn gray by the second.

He sighed in disgust and started heading through the winding stairs, through the narrow hallway that would lead to the infamous “room” Arimus spoke of. James barely fit in the hallway, it was so tight. The ceiling practically touched his head. No wonder Arimus wasn’t escorting him. He wouldn’t even fit.

James didn’t bother testing the width in case he got stuck, so he decided to just jog to the door and burst through. When he did, he was surprised by what he saw. There were no windows(which he noted even prisoners received), but the room was humongous. About a fourth of the size of the courtyard in width, and with a ceiling that reached stories above him. He could only wonder at the room’s true purpose. A pastel blue, the room was much more inviting than the lobby, especially with the recently prepared fire that lapped at the back of his legs from the brick fireplace. He stretched and yawned and decided to allow himself a little time to relax, a feat he had accomplished many times over. Strolling over to the only two items in the room, a bookcase and a bed, he rummaged through the book selections, careful to actually take the time to fully read the titles. One in particular caught his interest
:
How to become a Sag
e
.

He squealed in delight but then quickly covered his mouth, hoping no one had heard him. Even though he had decided to bury the bad boy image, there was no need to cremate it. He waited a moment for laughter, but heard only the crackling wood under the might of the flames. Satisfied he was in the clear, he tried maintaining his composure as he opened the leather bound gargantuan. Opening it slowly, as if it contained hidden treasure, his eyes widened as he saw the inside of the book carved out; in its place, only a tiny note remained, reading
:
HAHAHA. Psych! There is no book on becoming a Sage, idiot. Love, Kyran.

James grunted in annoyance and plopped down on the wooden bed. He was done looking for reading material. What he really needed was a good night’s sleep if he was going to survive whatever test Arimus had for him in the morning. He yawned again and decided he would dream about becoming a Sage…

But he didn’t get the chance.

Just as he hit the edge of dreaming, he heard a bloodcurdling scream that broke through his consciousness. Waking up at full alert, he strained his ears and gawked in horror as he heard faint laughing and giggling following the wake up call. Confined to his room and surrounded by the unknown, it was no time to be a hero but…if someone was in trouble, he should d
o
somethin
g
.

Already sweating through his clothes, he stood up and neglected his shoes, racing out the door to discover the source. He wasn’t sure of which way to go when he reached the lobby, as it was dead silent, but he figured he had a 50/50 chance of choosing correctly so he guessed. Deciding to pick the west side of the stairs, he took the steps two-by-two, desperately trying to maintain his balance. Sweating and heaving, he turned into a large assembly hall of some kind. Over the entrance read the word: Gymnasium. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but it gave him the impression it was of great importance. The entire room was brightly lit by hundreds of lanterns that hung from the ceiling like stars, and banners graced each of the walls like a king’s wardrobe, showing off a display of bright colors he had only seen in a rainbow. But that wasn’t what really caught his attention.

It was the people.

Young adults like himself, both boys and girls, running around the hall, giggling and tripping over one another as they avoided one particular girl running back and forth, trying to catch them. At first, he thought it was a game of tag until he saw the girl that appeared to be “it” reached toward one boy and started swinging her arms toward his face with focused precision. It was obvious she had been trained in some type of martial arts with how she tried to hit him, but what made it even stranger was that she was blindfolded while she was doing it. Surprisingly, the boy laughed and blocked her incoming blows with ease, running away after one particularly heavy swing knocked the girl off balance. She caught herself on the way down and immediately lunged toward the next girl she happened to hear pass by but she missed her too. It was pure chaos, but they were all enjoying it. James had to know what was going on.