The other man seemed to sense these life signals as well, for he abruptly turned tail and fled without hesitation, his movements much faster than what Alistar was capable of. He didn’t get far, however, for Alistar broadened the range of his control over the falling raindrops to over fifty paces, altering their shapes and freezing them in a split second before he reinforced the massive cloud of needles to degrees that he had yet been able to manage.
Taking aim, he acted without the slightest of scruples, peppering the man and everything within ten paces of him with an endless barrage of projectiles. Wave after wave of hardened needles rained down upon his attacker, who staggered as blood leaked from all parts of his body, looking like a porcupine or a puffer fish with so many needles stabbed into him.
In a moment of desperation, the subsequent barrages were blocked by a sudden dome of earth that rose up to encase the man in an all-encompassing barrier, though Alistar seized possession of the advanced earth-shifting spell and clenched his right hand into a fist, reinforcing the mass of earth and causing it to implode into an incredibly dense mound. His opponent died right there, completely crushed within the artificial rock.
Holding out his left hand, he willed nine tiny balls of water to encase his fallen limiters, froze them, and then summoned them into his grasp, converting the ice back to liquid form and then returning them to his fingers one at a time. He kept two of them off as he approached the unmoving mound, which was now hard as stone and hardly up to his knees. Softening the earth and then parting it with a thought, he directed an empty stare at the dark, miscellaneous stains that remained. It was difficult to make out the gore, even with the night cat’s eyes, but a large amount of blood had clearly soaked into the soil.
Before Alistar knew it, his uncle Caedmon was standing before him, eyes wild with worry as he shook his shoulders with frantic hands. Next came Alder, soon followed by Mr. Albeck, the older magus looking around at the thousands of reinforced needles that refused to melt in the face of the ongoing downpour. Hardly visible at a distant window were two blurry silhouettes, Anice and Patricia by the feel of their life signals.
“Alistar! I asked you what happened.”
He snapped back to attention as his uncle yelled over the storm for the third time, a peel of lightning illuminating the lands with a haunting flash.
As his uncle leaned in close to hear his response, he spoke up in a loud voice. “Someone tried to kill me.”
Caedmon’s silver gaze settled upon the grotesque blotches that stained the now loose pile of earth, where nothing more than bits of tattered leather remained. Returning his eyes to Alistar, he pulled his nephew into a tight hug which he maintained for several minutes.
***
Alistar’s state of shock lasted less than an hour. He felt no remorse over having killed another person, not when he knew that the alternative had been to lose his own life. Evidently his constant hunting excursions with his friends had paid off, along with the occasional slaying of predators on his trips to and from the hidden cave within the distant forests.
As he had feared, all of the house servants had fallen terribly ill under the effects of his unfiltered energies, and even some of the horses way out at the stables had grown heavily fatigued. Thankfully Alder had been able to shield Madeline from the volatile energies, ensuring that their unborn child remained unharmed. Mr. Albeck had likewise protected Patricia, Stason and Little Lauren, his quick thinking sparing them from the same sickness that the other house servants had been forced to suffer through.
Alistar had apologized countless times in the hours that followed the attempted murder, though his family and friends were far from angry. Along with Patricia, Madeline had embraced him as soon as she’d learned what had happened, the two refusing to leave his side until they were forced away by their soon-to-be husbands.
It was currently around midnight, Alistar now seated in his uncle’s study along with him, Alder and Mr. Albeck. The four of them were gathered around Caedmon’s favoured work desk, all of them staring at the golden tooth that rested on the tabletop’s centre.
“I only know one person with a golden tooth,” said Caedmon, his tone laced with open anger. “And based on your description, Alistar, he was the one who attacked you.”
“You knew him?”
Alder’s arms were crossed, his expression pensive. “He attended the collegia with us, a boorish brute that always tagged along with your uncle Daniel.”
“Does that mean Uncle Daniel sent him here?”
Mr. Albeck shook his head. “That shouldn’t be the case. If that was indeed the man we’re thinking about, I doubt he was sent by Daniel.”
Caedmon nodded, hands pale as he clenched them into fists. “Last I heard of him, he was working for one of my uncles in Caerson. The county that your cousin Edmun just formally inherited.”
It seemed that Edmun hadn’t wasted any time in attempting to get back at Alistar for the humiliation he’d suffered during his previous visit. This angered Alistar just as much as anyone in the study, but it also made him realize that Johan’s words of caution had been far more relevant than he had initially believed. Caedmon had also advised him to be wary around their relatives outside of his own household, and Alistar finally understood why. True to the rumours, House Silverkin was a clan of cutthroats.
Should I tell Master? If Tramon was willing to maim the duke of Vern—the eldest prince of the kingdom—for similar transgressions, surely he would see to it that a young, upstart count like Edmun experienced an equivalent reprimand. No, he thought, I can’t keep bothering him with my problems.
“We can’t let this act go uncontested,” said Mr. Albeck, who was fidgeting with his drooping sleeves in a subconscious manner. “What do you want to do, Caedmon?”
“First it was my brother, and now one of my nephews.” Frowning, Caedmon ran an ink-stained hand through his long, black hair before letting out a frustrated sigh. “This came at a difficult time. Antoine and Daniel are going to be sending hundreds of workers here within the next few months to set about harvesting night iron from the Iron Dungeon. If our response is too heavy-handed, I worry what Daniel might do if he has armed soldiers within my territory.”
Mr. Albeck seemed to come to a difficult decision. “I can pay a visit to Caerson if you’d like. It seems more fitting for me to educate young Edmun as one of his former mentors.”
“What can you even do, though?” said Alder. “Edmun’s a count now, and a reckless one at that. Last I checked, Caerson had nearly a thousand soldiers in permanent employ.”
“We were lucky that nobody was hurt this time around, but what if they decide to change their approach? They could easily target Anice out of spite, or other people that are close to Alistar. That means Madeline, Patricia, Stason and everyone else on the property. We need to do something.”
Alistar remained quiet as the other three continued to deliberate over an acceptable response to the attempted assassination, though he eventually spoke up as tensions within the room began to rise. Standing from his seat, he picked up the golden tooth—which was dented and misshapen from the pressures of Alistar’s spell—and examined it with quiet eyes.
“Uncle,” he eventually said, turning to Ceadmon with a calm stare. “We’re not in a position to do anything drastic, but I don’t think we need to. It should be fine as long as we send this back to Edmun. He’s a fool, but I’m sure he’ll understand the message.”
“Although I only taught him for a short time, I have a good idea of his temperament. Doing such a thing will only make him more paranoid, and more likely to act.”
“Then we should send something else along with the tooth.”
When asked what he had in mind, Alistar excused himself and retreated to his old bedroom, which had remained empty, cold and dull since the day of Janine’s death. Shifting the stone of a certain section of the wall, he retrieved the small box that he had hidden within it and then returned to his uncle’s study at a jog.
“What is this?” asked Caedmon as he inspected the box along with the other three.
Alistar opened it to reveal a solid block of reinforced ice, one that he tended to on a bi-daily basis to make sure that it didn’t melt. Visible within the protective encasing was his uncle Antoine’s severed hand, distinguishable by the rings on its fingers.
“This…this is Antoine’s…” Caedmon fixed Alistar with a sombre stare. “Explain this, Alistar.”
Seeing the shock in the eyes of the others, he calmly told them the purpose of Tramon’s brief trip away from Distan. Hearing this, they all showed mixed reactions.
Alder’s eyebrows rose to the sky, though he couldn’t help but release a light laugh and remark about newfound respect for the old sword master. Mr. Albeck, on the other hand, reprimanded Tramon for his rash actions, though not before wondering after the true strength of the retired swordsman. Caedmon, for his part, seemed to age several years as he was stricken by a wave of worry.
“I can’t believe that man. Does he fear nothing under the sun?”
“Uncle, would you consider inviting him to live here on the estate with us? If Edmun isn’t happy with his gift, we won’t have much to worry about so long as Master is living here.”
“And what about when you’re off with your friends? Tramon can’t watch over you at all times, as we’ve just learned.”
Alistar’s eyes darkened by a subtle degree, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the others. “Then I’ll do my best to deal with things.”
The other man seemed to sense these life signals as well, for he abruptly turned tail and fled without hesitation, his movements much faster than what Alistar was capable of. He didn’t get far, however, for Alistar broadened the range of his control over the falling raindrops to over fifty paces, altering their shapes and freezing them in a split second before he reinforced the massive cloud of needles to degrees that he had yet been able to manage.
Taking aim, he acted without the slightest of scruples, peppering the man and everything within ten paces of him with an endless barrage of projectiles. Wave after wave of hardened needles rained down upon his attacker, who staggered as blood leaked from all parts of his body, looking like a porcupine or a puffer fish with so many needles stabbed into him.
In a moment of desperation, the subsequent barrages were blocked by a sudden dome of earth that rose up to encase the man in an all-encompassing barrier, though Alistar seized possession of the advanced earth-shifting spell and clenched his right hand into a fist, reinforcing the mass of earth and causing it to implode into an incredibly dense mound. His opponent died right there, completely crushed within the artificial rock.
Holding out his left hand, he willed nine tiny balls of water to encase his fallen limiters, froze them, and then summoned them into his grasp, converting the ice back to liquid form and then returning them to his fingers one at a time. He kept two of them off as he approached the unmoving mound, which was now hard as stone and hardly up to his knees. Softening the earth and then parting it with a thought, he directed an empty stare at the dark, miscellaneous stains that remained. It was difficult to make out the gore, even with the night cat’s eyes, but a large amount of blood had clearly soaked into the soil.
Before Alistar knew it, his uncle Caedmon was standing before him, eyes wild with worry as he shook his shoulders with frantic hands. Next came Alder, soon followed by Mr. Albeck, the older magus looking around at the thousands of reinforced needles that refused to melt in the face of the ongoing downpour. Hardly visible at a distant window were two blurry silhouettes, Anice and Patricia by the feel of their life signals.
“Alistar! I asked you what happened.”
He snapped back to attention as his uncle yelled over the storm for the third time, a peel of lightning illuminating the lands with a haunting flash.
As his uncle leaned in close to hear his response, he spoke up in a loud voice. “Someone tried to kill me.”
Caedmon’s silver gaze settled upon the grotesque blotches that stained the now loose pile of earth, where nothing more than bits of tattered leather remained. Returning his eyes to Alistar, he pulled his nephew into a tight hug which he maintained for several minutes.
***
Alistar’s state of shock lasted less than an hour. He felt no remorse over having killed another person, not when he knew that the alternative had been to lose his own life. Evidently his constant hunting excursions with his friends had paid off, along with the occasional slaying of predators on his trips to and from the hidden cave within the distant forests.
As he had feared, all of the house servants had fallen terribly ill under the effects of his unfiltered energies, and even some of the horses way out at the stables had grown heavily fatigued. Thankfully Alder had been able to shield Madeline from the volatile energies, ensuring that their unborn child remained unharmed. Mr. Albeck had likewise protected Patricia, Stason and Little Lauren, his quick thinking sparing them from the same sickness that the other house servants had been forced to suffer through.
Alistar had apologized countless times in the hours that followed the attempted murder, though his family and friends were far from angry. Along with Patricia, Madeline had embraced him as soon as she’d learned what had happened, the two refusing to leave his side until they were forced away by their soon-to-be husbands.
It was currently around midnight, Alistar now seated in his uncle’s study along with him, Alder and Mr. Albeck. The four of them were gathered around Caedmon’s favoured work desk, all of them staring at the golden tooth that rested on the tabletop’s centre.
“I only know one person with a golden tooth,” said Caedmon, his tone laced with open anger. “And based on your description, Alistar, he was the one who attacked you.”
“You knew him?”
Alder’s arms were crossed, his expression pensive. “He attended the collegia with us, a boorish brute that always tagged along with your uncle Daniel.”
“Does that mean Uncle Daniel sent him here?”
Mr. Albeck shook his head. “That shouldn’t be the case. If that was indeed the man we’re thinking about, I doubt he was sent by Daniel.”
Caedmon nodded, hands pale as he clenched them into fists. “Last I heard of him, he was working for one of my uncles in Caerson. The county that your cousin Edmun just formally inherited.”
It seemed that Edmun hadn’t wasted any time in attempting to get back at Alistar for the humiliation he’d suffered during his previous visit. This angered Alistar just as much as anyone in the study, but it also made him realize that Johan’s words of caution had been far more relevant than he had initially believed. Caedmon had also advised him to be wary around their relatives outside of his own household, and Alistar finally understood why. True to the rumours, House Silverkin was a clan of cutthroats.
Should I tell Master? If Tramon was willing to maim the duke of Vern—the eldest prince of the kingdom—for similar transgressions, surely he would see to it that a young, upstart count like Edmun experienced an equivalent reprimand. No, he thought, I can’t keep bothering him with my problems.
“We can’t let this act go uncontested,” said Mr. Albeck, who was fidgeting with his drooping sleeves in a subconscious manner. “What do you want to do, Caedmon?”
“First it was my brother, and now one of my nephews.” Frowning, Caedmon ran an ink-stained hand through his long, black hair before letting out a frustrated sigh. “This came at a difficult time. Antoine and Daniel are going to be sending hundreds of workers here within the next few months to set about harvesting night iron from the Iron Dungeon. If our response is too heavy-handed, I worry what Daniel might do if he has armed soldiers within my territory.”
Mr. Albeck seemed to come to a difficult decision. “I can pay a visit to Caerson if you’d like. It seems more fitting for me to educate young Edmun as one of his former mentors.”
“What can you even do, though?” said Alder. “Edmun’s a count now, and a reckless one at that. Last I checked, Caerson had nearly a thousand soldiers in permanent employ.”
“We were lucky that nobody was hurt this time around, but what if they decide to change their approach? They could easily target Anice out of spite, or other people that are close to Alistar. That means Madeline, Patricia, Stason and everyone else on the property. We need to do something.”
Alistar remained quiet as the other three continued to deliberate over an acceptable response to the attempted assassination, though he eventually spoke up as tensions within the room began to rise. Standing from his seat, he picked up the golden tooth—which was dented and misshapen from the pressures of Alistar’s spell—and examined it with quiet eyes.
“Uncle,” he eventually said, turning to Ceadmon with a calm stare. “We’re not in a position to do anything drastic, but I don’t think we need to. It should be fine as long as we send this back to Edmun. He’s a fool, but I’m sure he’ll understand the message.”
“Although I only taught him for a short time, I have a good idea of his temperament. Doing such a thing will only make him more paranoid, and more likely to act.”
“Then we should send something else along with the tooth.”
When asked what he had in mind, Alistar excused himself and retreated to his old bedroom, which had remained empty, cold and dull since the day of Janine’s death. Shifting the stone of a certain section of the wall, he retrieved the small box that he had hidden within it and then returned to his uncle’s study at a jog.
“What is this?” asked Caedmon as he inspected the box along with the other three.
Alistar opened it to reveal a solid block of reinforced ice, one that he tended to on a bi-daily basis to make sure that it didn’t melt. Visible within the protective encasing was his uncle Antoine’s severed hand, distinguishable by the rings on its fingers.
“This…this is Antoine’s…” Caedmon fixed Alistar with a sombre stare. “Explain this, Alistar.”
Seeing the shock in the eyes of the others, he calmly told them the purpose of Tramon’s brief trip away from Distan. Hearing this, they all showed mixed reactions.
Alder’s eyebrows rose to the sky, though he couldn’t help but release a light laugh and remark about newfound respect for the old sword master. Mr. Albeck, on the other hand, reprimanded Tramon for his rash actions, though not before wondering after the true strength of the retired swordsman. Caedmon, for his part, seemed to age several years as he was stricken by a wave of worry.
“I can’t believe that man. Does he fear nothing under the sun?”
“Uncle, would you consider inviting him to live here on the estate with us? If Edmun isn’t happy with his gift, we won’t have much to worry about so long as Master is living here.”
“And what about when you’re off with your friends? Tramon can’t watch over you at all times, as we’ve just learned.”
Alistar’s eyes darkened by a subtle degree, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the others. “Then I’ll do my best to deal with things.”
