The Currents of Magic

Chapter One

A lone figure had emerged, dressed in a chainmail shirt and brown leather pants. He wore black gloves, and a sword was sheathed and strapped to his hip. As he strode towards the center of the training yard, the sound of colliding swords faded, and then came to an abrupt stop as a final pair of sparring boys noticed his presence.

"Well, see you guys later," said Dobson.

Already the congregating recruits had begun to disperse and form lines according to rank. After a few parting words, the other boys ducked off into the fray and Meyer started towards the right side of the yard. As he took his place among the First Rank recruits, he shifted his attention to Rip.

The First-Master of Martial Training was standing at the center of the yard, his gray hair almost silver in the morning light. He stood with his feet planted slightly beyond shoulder width, his gloved hands resting on the hilt of his sword. Yet as Meyer gazed at the First-Master, he disregarded Rip's commanding demeanor, and allowed himself a brief smile. Rumor told that the First-Master had a massive scar across his back that looked as though someone had ripped him apart and stitched him back together. While Meyer had never confirmed this claim, he had always thought the First-Master's nickname suited him better than Ernest Lorant, his actual name.

"Good morning, soldiers," boomed the First-Master.

His voice echoed off the walls of the barracks, unnaturally loud, and for a moment there was a dull noise as the last boys found their places among the lines of recruits. Then silence. The recruits were in formation: four columns, extending back towards the armament building in rows of five.

"As you know, the training cycle ends in one week," began Lorant. "For some of the more accomplished members of the First Rank, this means completion of Martial Training and entrance into the Vanroc Guard—expect the list of First Rank graduates to be posted shortly."

A low buzz emanated from the recruits, and Meyer felt a momentary tightness in his stomach. Around him, First Rank recruits were shifting uneasily. Lorant cleared his throat and again there was silence.

"As for the rest of you," continued Lorant, "This is the last chance you have to show you deserve to advance rank. I've been watching all of you for the entire cycle, but invariably I end up making many of my decisions based on what I see in this final week. I'd advise you to keep that in mind throughout your training."

Lorant paused before continuing. "Of course, as always, we will end the training cycle with our annual sparring tournament. The tournament is a great opportunity to demonstrate your ability. I greatly value applied skill." Another pause, and then Lorant spoke with sharp annunciation: "Begin conditioning."

"On our lead," yelled the five boys standing at the front of the First Rank column, and then the recruits were in motion, slowly jogging towards the barracks gate to embark on their daily conditioning run.

Fifty minutes later Meyer stood before Master at Arms Hurst, a sleek veil of perspiration coating his brow, as he waited for his first training session to begin. Throughout the yard, boys were forming into groups around different Training Masters, and already a few sessions had begun. Finally, the last recruits in Meyer's session hustled over from the armament building. Hurst cleared his throat.

"Today we are going to practice defensive maneuvers," he said. "We'll start with some scenarios in which you've been disarmed. Everyone drop your swords and bring your shields forward."

Meyer groaned along with all the other boys in his training session. For the next hour, he moved through different defensive positions while Hurst walked between the recruits, giving critique. Like all the Masters, Hurst insisted on good fighting technique. Meyer, however, never felt that combat instruction was very helpful. He paid little attention during the instruction sessions, but was still one of the better fighters among the recruits. While most recruits spent two years in each rank, Meyer had advanced to the First Rank in just four years.