6. Hell Of A Tutorial

Lukas woke up in a cot with stained grey sheets in a room that looked far from sterile. Stalls lined the wall to his left. Horses, bovines, and beasts he didn’t recognize stood in them, staring at him. Most had mouthfuls of hay or mud while the others’ maws dripped red. His nostrils burned and surprisingly little hurt when he moved.

“Oh, good.” A smiling bearded face looked down at him. Its owner was tall, stout, and wore a polished brass breastplate. He stoppered a vial and returned it to his pocket. A younger man stood next to him carrying a bucket. “The water won’t be necessary, Hump.”

“Aww,” Hump moaned, shoulders slouching. “I never get to splash the drunks.”

Lukas rubbed his nose and blew it, desperate to get rid of the burning that followed the use of smelling softs. “I'm up,” he said. “Water won't be necessary.”

“He isn’t a drunk,” a matronly woman grumbled, emerging from the stalls. She carried a bale of hay on her left shoulder. It seemed far too large and unwieldy for someone with her dimensions but she carried the load like it was no big deal. “I don't think I've seen blood cleaner in all my days. Lacking iron but no tea, liquor, or any other toxic traces.” She smacked the back of Hump's head as she joined them. “Be gentle with my patient or I’ll charge your family and employer full rates, Humphrey Jones.”

“Patient?!” Hump exclaimed. “This man is an infiltrator and a criminal.”

“He is in my infirmary. In my cot. That makes him my patient.”

“Listen here, you old bat—”

The older man smacked the back of hump’s head. “Vet or not, Miss Esther’s healing gifts are important to the guard.” His tone was stern. “If I were forced to choose between her discount rates and a snot-nosed cadet, the vet wins. Show her respect or the drill sergeant will show you the bottom of his boot.”

“Maybe I should have a word with your Ma and Pa.” The vet sighed. “It was too early for you to leave the stables. Don’t you think so, Captain?”

“Wait. No—”

“Am I under arrest?” Lukas interrupted, sitting up. He hoped the new body had a natural, convincing poker face. It usually took years to develop one.

“Depends,” the guard captain answered. “We have questions, Mr Zaun. Your brother spun a tall tale and we need you to corroborate or make it somewhat believable.”

“He’s a liar,” Hump added, putting down the bucket and crossing his arms. “Chains and the stock. That’s what you deserve. The both of you.”

“Is that how you do things nowadays?” The vet asked. “Is the guard bullying poor, injured refugees, and throwing them in the prison for nothing?”

“It's not for nothing! They illegally entered the city with clearly stolen goods. These—”

“That’s enough, Hump,” the guard captain said, cutting him off. “Go wait outside before I assign you to latrine detail.”

The young man opened his mouth in protest but froze, eyes darting between Lukas and the older pair. He straightened up, clenched his jaw, and nodded. “Yes, Captain,” Hump said, standing at attention before marching out of the room.

“Spirited one, isn’t he?” The vet asked.

“I apologize for the chaos and behavior, Esther,” the captain replied. “The boy has a good heart and is passionate about the job. He’d be a perfect cadet if not for the temper.”

“And the mouth. His mother should’ve washed it out with soap like I said.” Esther turned her attention to Lukas. “Are you up for an interrogation? Do you need anything?”

“Some water would be great,” Lukas answered. “Also. Can I see my brother?”

The guard captain brought over the bucket Humphrey intended to pour over Lukas. A wooden ladle with a long metal handle sat in it. “Drink up,” the man said. “As for your brother, it all depends on how the next few minutes go.”

Esther took the water away before Lukas could finish his third cup. “Too much water will make you sick. I’ll get you some bread and cheese once you and Stefan are done.”

“Thank you,” Lukas said as she marched away before turning his attention to Guard Captain Stefan. “How can I help you?”

“It’s more about helping yourself, Mr Zaun,” Stefan replied. He grabbed a milking stool and sat down next to the cot. “Your brother told us quite a story. Honestly, it was hard to believe and we’re in half a mind to write you off as thieves or bandits.” The man’s demeanor and tone remained casual and friendly, but the air about him shifted. “Why don’t you start with what happened to your head, your former employer, and how you ended up here?”

“Honestly? I don’t remember much at all. It's all just blank with random flashes.” Lukas rubbed the back of the head as he spoke, fingers lingering on the fresh scar. “If we didn’t look the same, I wouldn’t have known El was my brother.”

“Yes. We’ve seen identical head injuries. They’re not suspicious at all.” Stefan continued smiling but his words dripped with sarcasm. “Tell me your story. I don't have all day.”

Lukas shrugged. “We woke up in a mass grave next to a ritual circle.” The man’s glare paled in comparison to Lady Silverspine’s. Lukas's palms grew sweaty, but his expression remained casual. “Maybe that had something to do with it.”

“And you remember nothing about the supposed Wyrm Cultist attack?”

“I’m really sorry.” Lukas did his best to look embarrassed. “My mind is blank. I remember nothing before the grave. There were a bunch of us still alive in there.” He paused for a moment, pretending to focus. “Now that I think about it, there was an old lady with glowing sapphire eyes in there. I think she fixed us up and had us fashion rope with our clothes.”

“Keep going,” Stefan pressed when he paused. His unblinking stare failed to make Lukas squirm.

“We tried to sneak out of the grave and make a run for safety,” Lukas answered. “Barely anyone made it. Only embers and coal of almost everything but the manor, smithy, and the storehouse. There was little cover to protect us from all the arrows and magic.” Lukas's hand wandered to his left shoulder as he spoke. A fresh scab sat under the nightshirt. “The old lady used my blood to open the storehouse door. It was decent cover until the enchantments failed.”

“Are you sure she used your blood to open the locks?” Stefan retrieved a notebook from inside of his trousers and flipped through it, squinting. “It wasn’t some sort of spell?”

“I am. If it were just the once I wouldn't have thought so, but there was a pattern. She used my blood to open a hidden door in the storehouse too.”

“Anyway, the lady tried to fix up the people who were hiding in there but most had already frozen to death or were mostly gone. I don't know if that was true or if she hoped to conserve resources. We tried to take cover in the equipment room, but then the cultists blew through the enchantments with dragon fire.”

“Dragon fire?”

Lukas nodded. “That’s what the lady said, at least. She wasn’t dressed like the rest of us. She spoke differently, too.” He paused, massaging the bridge of his nose. “Now that I think about it, everybody listened and bowed when she talked even when they were pissing their pants. I just assumed she knew what she was talking about. So when she said dragon fire I believed her.”

“What happened next?”

“The cultists tortured her for information and killed her. I only understood her side of the conversation. The shaman was looking for some sort of weapon. Then, they dragged us under the manor to open up the vault that housed.” Lukas smiled weakly. “El and I got lucky, I think. The cultists’ shaman bled me to open it up. Her two assistants stayed back to watch us while she, her guard, and most of the accompanying force entered only to walk into a series of lightning spike traps.

“El ran in once they deactivated.” He realized then that he was speaking too quickly but ran with it, hoping Stefan would find him more convincing. “I grabbed whatever weapon I could reach and stabbed the two guarding us. They looked young and too shocked to react. Then when the others came running, I ran. El found a spell scroll stash and covered me.”

“You took down a pair of wyrmkin?” Stefan asked, making more notes. Surprise flashed across his face. Lukas almost missed it. He emphasized on the you, a hint of disbelief leaking into his tone. “How long have the pair of you been sharded?” 

“El found a shard?” Lukas asked, feigning surprise. “Mine came from behind the secret door in the storehouse. The raptors had already bled me apparently and the lady wanted more for all the blood locks so she gave me a shard. I guess it was meant to keep me alive through all the cuts and bloodletting. It's probably the reason I’m still alive.”

“Fine. We can circle back to all of that. I think the most important question is do you know where you are? And how did you infiltrate the city? Can you answer either question?”

Lukas shook his head. “I’m surprised and just glad to be alive. The blood loss and general exhaustion knocked me out as soon as I reached El. He was ripping open spell scrolls like no tomorrow. There was a white flash. Then everything went dark.”

“You didn’t stow away on a ship or sneak through the sewers?”

“No.”

“I need more than just a no,” Stefan said.

“If the first were true, you wouldn't be questioning me right now,” Lukas answered matter-of-factly. “There would be too much evidence for there to be any question regarding our innocence. Blood trails. Vessels reporting fighting or signs of stowaways. Our clothes—wherever they are, and my wounds should prove the latter isn’t true. They’d stink and most of my cuts would be infected.”

“Any clue as to where this manor was?”

“I remember mountains.” Lukas pretended to think super hard. “The lady mentioned waiting for reinforcements from the Gray. Does that mean anything? I don't know whether thats an order or a place.” Stefan said nothing, only taking notes. After a prolonged silence, he pushed on. “Are you happy to tell me how Elvis claims we got here?”

“Elvis claims he found a portal scroll and it brought the two of you here.” The guard captain stood. He reached under his breastplate and pulled out a pouch. Stefan carefully emptied it, laying out the contents on the cot next to Lukas. There was the shard Lukas had grabbed and two glass spheres. The first contained a pulsing fleshy ball that floated at its center. It turned into a solid black marble the next second was gaseous a moment later, then mercurial like the shard’s contents, and then fleshy again. The other contained lightning and resembled a miniature Dyson Sphere. “We found these in his pockets. Did they come from the manor vault or the storehouse?”

“It must’ve been the vault,” Lukas answered. Hiding his desire to snatch them out of the man’s hands was challenging. “Because I don’t remember El pocketing anything. The storehouse only had a bunch of shards, and I only took what the lady gave me. Nothing more. El must’ve grabbed those before dragging me through. Probably his shard too.”

“At least your stories match. Mostly. I appreciate you being direct and succinct.”

“El seems to have trouble keeping his mouth shut and taking things seriously.” Relief didn’t wash over Lukas. He and El-One had discussed their story during a brief lucid moment but he struggled to recall most of it. Exhaustion, blood loss, and starvation had left him mostly delirious. Stefan remained unreadable, staying friendly but professional. “I apologize for all of this. We did whatever the lady said and then it was all about survival at any cost.”

“And you really don’t remember anything before the grave?”

“I really wish I did. The cultists must’ve done something to us.”

Stefan sighed. “Your head injuries are consistent with the Wyrm Cult’s rituals. I think you and your brother were meant as sacrifices to their lord.” He took a step back and crossed his arms, eyes peering through Lukas. “I’ll be honest, Lukas Zaun. Your story is too far-fetched and much like young Humphrey, I believe there is a lot you're not telling us. However, you haven't committed any crimes against the city besides illegal entry. The shards and essence might be illegally acquired but no one has reported any of it missing. So they’re not in danger of confiscation. Your only punishment is expulsion. I’m happy to set you free but it would be at the docks and my men would see you onto a vessel. Or it will be on the other side of the gate.”

“What will it take for you to let us stay?” Lukas frowned. “El and I have no memories. Understand little about Fracture and its magic. Kicking us out of the city in our current state is as good as sentencing us to death. We have no money and—”

“You have an unknown cracked shard, lightning essence, and I think the other is some sort of flesh or bestial essence. Surrender one of the latter two to the city of Iskander. The Iskander Guard will be thankful for your contribution and I will arrange identification and admission paperwork allowing you to live and work in the city.”

There were go. No wonder you sent little Hump away. Can't let the wide-eyed cadet see the corruption firsthand, can we?

“Take them both if you want. I don’t even know what they’re for and half expected you to confiscate them.”

“You’re really not lying?” Stefan asked, raising an eyebrow. He appeared surprised. Lukas hoped he hadn’t pushed his luck by offering up both. “You don’t remember anything? Shards? Essences? 

Lukas shook his head. “Am I supposed to? Is it common knowledge? I just did what the lady said when she handed me the thing.”

“Nomads. Tribals. Backwater, shit-shoveling kids. Everyone knows what shards and essences are and how the Pillars of Self work.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say. Shards combine with the Pillars of Self to give abilities. That much I’ve inferred. Essence not so much.”

“Essences are needed for tiering up shard abilities and enchanting” Stefan placed his hand on the sphere containing lightning. “I’d like to keep the lightning essence. Our quartermaster should be able to turn it into a potent anti-ship weapon. If you agree, I’ll also write you and your big-mouthed brother letters of recommendation. They’ll get you jobs or let you access all services available to the citizens of our fine city.”

Sure. That sounds like an equivalent exchange.

“I already said you can have it,” Lukas said, taking the iron essence and cracked shard. He currently wore nothing but a nightshirt and tucked them under the sheet covering his legs. “Could you also direct me toward a library or a teacher for guidance on the pillars, shards, and essences? I don’t want to appear like a dunce and stand out too much.”

Stefan nodded, smiling. He visibly relaxed as he pocketed the Lightning Essence. “I’ll show you the library and a cheap inn.” He paused. “Are you willing to part with your weapons? Especially your short sword.”

“I’m not particularly attached to any of them. Why do you ask?”

“Well, you don’t have any money and I doubt you want to sell the shard or essence. The shortsword should get you enough to set the pair of you up until you find jobs.”

“Understood,” Lukas said, climbing out of bed. His legs almost gave way when he tried to stand. Stefan caught him before he could fall. “I think I need to eat something first.”

“Esther will be back any moment with your food,” the man told him. “Rest. Eat. I’ll fetch your brother from the dungeons before you’re done along with your paperwork.” He studied Lukas for a moment, eyes exploring the skinny malnourished frame. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I’ve been curious about your shard ability. It must be something combat-oriented, right?”

“What makes you think that, Captain?”

“I can’t think of how else you could’ve fought off a horde of genuine wyrmkin and survived. Is it magic? Did you put the shard in your Body pillar?”

“It makes me smarter, more observant, wary, and quick on my feet. I’m afraid that’s all I’m willing to divulge.”

“That’s fine. I apologize for prying.”

Bribes and half-truths. They never fail.