Island Shifters: Book 01 - An Oath of the Blood (6 page)

T
he sun had yet to make an appearance, but a subtle swash of pink across the eastern horizon greeted Beck as he walked with Rogan through the enormous, twin stone pillars that marked the entrance to the walled Parsis Academy. The three-hundred year old, five-story castle lorded imposingly over all who traveled the cobblestone walkway that snaked between the columns and that the Academy earthshifters kept lined with immaculate gardens of multihued flowers and ornamental shrubbery. Yet, the grandiose of the structure and grounds contrasted appreciably with its humbly romantic and tragic beginning and was one of Beck’s favorite stories as a child. One of the earliest Elven earthshifters to be exiled in Pyraan, Lord Edard Jaron, built the residence brick by brick, stone by stone, as a loving monument to his beloved wife, Elventine. When Elventine died unexpectedly just days before completion of her husband’s gift, Lord Jaron abandoned the castle and Parsis and traveled alone to the Balor Mountains a broken man. Closely held lore claimed that the angels of the Highworld could not bear to tear asunder the devoted soul mates. As such, they allowed Elventine to remain mortal-bound in her spirit form to live with Lord Jaron in the Balors, presumably until his own natural death. The poignant Elven pair came to signify the embodiment of true love for the people of Pyraan. The quixotic castle remained unoccupied for more than two hundred years until the residents of Parsis felt compelled to restore the beauty of the structure and convert it into a school and dormitory for parentless shifter children.

Beck ducked under the floral-encased arbor at the end of the walkway and into a central courtyard and scanned the area for Airron. Regular academic classes were cancelled for the day, which allowed the legionnaires of Troop 158 to have the Academy grounds to themselves as they milled around waiting restlessly for Commander Dismore to appear.

Grimacing, Beck spotted Airron standing with a defensive posture in front of the argumentative legionnaire from last night, Heath, and two of his friends. Airron had a tight-lipped smile on his face. “Uh oh,” Beck said, nudging Rogan with his elbow. “Airron has that stupid grin on his face.”

“Which one?”

“Remember when Jak Mason tried to blame Airron for stealing from Master Martyn’s till?”

Rogan looked where Beck pointed. “We better get over there,” he growled.

As they started away, Rogan leaned over and grabbed a stout rod from one of the legionnaire’s backpacks. “Mind if I borrow this?” he asked, without stopping.

The legionnaire watched Rogan walk away and shrugged his shoulders. “I guess not.”

Beck raised an eyebrow at his friend, but did not comment.

The trio of earthshifters belligerently watched them approach. “Looks like your reinforcements have arrived, bodyshifter,” sneered one of the boys with a mop of curly blonde hair. Jon Anders, Beck thought his name was.

“Wait a minute, Jon,” said Heath, looking around. “One is missing. Oh, yes, that green-eyed witch from the campfire last night.”

Without a word, Rogan stalked over to Heath, pulled out the rod and brought it down on the bridge of his nose. The earthshifter screamed out in surprise and pain. His fellow cohorts growled in rage, waiting for a cue from their apparent leader before retaliating.

“How dare you!” Heath snarled, blood gushing from his nose. He waved his hands and they crackled with magic as a faint tremor ran through the ground at their feet.

Airron laughed. “What was that? Is that how you earthshift out in the countryside?”

Heath’s face reddened. “You and your friends think you can show us all up with your mighty powers, but we are here to tell you that it is not going to happen. We might not be super freak shifters like you, but we know how to fight.”

Beck ground his teeth in frustration. There were always those who were envious of the fact that Beck, Rogan, Airron and Kiernan had advanced powers, and they resented them simply for the nature of their birth and something of which they had no more control over than the color of their hair. It was ignorance, plain and simple. Intending to defuse the situation, he grabbed Airron’s arm and stepped in front of him. “Look,” he said to Heath and his friends, “we are not like that, all right. We are here to get a job done, just like you.”

Heath flexed his fingers in a show of threat. “Really? Well, maybe a reminder is still in order. You know, one earthshifter to another?”

Beck smiled lazily. “Be my guest, Heath, but trust me implicitly when I tell you that it would not work out well for you if you tried.”

Heath hesitated and licked his lips uncertainly. Fortunately, for the antagonistic youth anyway, he wavered just long enough for Dismore to make an appearance.

“Attention, legionnaires!” boomed the Commander’s voice as he exited the Academy doors and entered the courtyard.

“Watch your back,” Heath growled at Beck and turned to walk away.

Before he took two steps, Beck reached out and spun the earthshifter around by grasping a fistful of shirt at his shoulder and lifting him up on his toes. “One more thing, Heath,” he said. “You might not be aware of this living outside of Parsis so let me explain. It is considered a grave insult to call a gifted mindshifter like my friend, Kiernan, a witch. Next time you see her, you will owe her your heartfelt apology. Do you understand me?”

Heath glared at Beck as his friends hurried away to where Dismore was lining up the Legion. Beck leaned in closer, his breath hot on Heath’s cheek. “Do you understand?” he questioned again.

Heath nodded defiantly and Beck casually released his shirt and patted it back into place. “Good. See you around.”

“Line up!” shouted the Commander. “Time is running short. The testing needs to be underway immediately.”

With one last look at Heath to make sure he was not going to cause any more problems, Beck turned back to Airron and Rogan.

“Impressive,” smiled Airron. “Was it the challenge to your earthshifting dominance or his slur about Kiernan that got you so riled up?”

“What are you talking about, Falewir?” Beck barked. “You would have stood up for Kiernan, too.”

“Sure, big guy,” said Airron. “I was just about to tear off his head when you stepped in.”

Beck looked on in confusion as both of his friends glanced at each other and laughed. Ignoring them, he walked away, but he had to admit that Airron had a point. It was not a surprise that Rogan struck out against Heath. He was known to be short-tempered and aggressive. In contrast, Airron was the laid-back prankster who was more interested in laughs and fun than in fighting. But, him? According to his friends, he was the serious one. Decisive and levelheaded. He never got riled up. So, why did he lose his temper?

Something to think about when he had more time, he promised himself.

Troop 158 lined up in front of Dismore who was dressed in the light gray uniform of the Northwatch Legion, belly protruding amply over his belt. “If there are any mindshifters here,” he yelled out, pacing in front of them, “go immediately into the Academy to the Bubble Room on the third floor for your test. There is an instructor waiting for you there.” Two red-faced legionnaires left the line and began walking hurriedly to the school. For some reason, the majority of mindshifters were female, and the young male mindshifters who came to Parsis often found themselves the brunt of ridicule.

Dismore nodded his head once and continued walking back and forth along the line, silently consulting a rolled parchment in his hands. Despite his admonishment that time was short, he was taking his time to look at each legionnaire closely in evaluation. Taking his time to make sure each of them squirmed was more like it, Beck thought.

Dismore stopped in front of the redheaded Heath. “Demons hell! What happened to your nose?”

“Nothing, sir,” Heath replied, his voice already altered comically by the bulbous swelling.

“Nothing?”

“Just an accident,” he squeaked.

Dismore’s eyes traced the line of legionnaires before stopping pointedly on Airron and Rogan. “Let us make sure that the
accidents
are kept to a minimum, gentlemen. This is a Legion, not a bloody playground.”

Turning, Dismore pointed to a wide circle of exposed dirt encircled by grass that the Academy dubbed the Testing Ground, and said, “Follow me.” The remaining shifters trailed behind their new Commander until he halted them on one side of the circle while he walked to the other side, putting the dirt between them.

“When I call your name,” he shouted, “advance to the middle of the circle and show me why you should be part of the Northwatch Legion!”

His shout was met with uncertain silence.

“When I call your name,” he repeated, impatiently, “come into the circle and show me why you should be part of the Northwatch Legion!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Excuse me?” he yelled.

“Yes, sir!” came the hearty, but disorderly reply.

Dismore grudgingly nodded his head and looked down at his paper again. “Jon Anders!”

“Here, sir,” said the legionnaire with curly blonde hair.

“What is your ability, Anders?”

“Earthshifting, sir!” All earthshifters had a muscular build to back up their super strength. It was a physical trait inherent in their magic and made them easy to identify. Anders was tall like Beck and his biceps and quadriceps bulged with muscled power.

“Well, then, show me!”

Jon immediately stepped into the Testing Ground and, after glancing back nervously at the line of legionnaires behind him, he turned toward Dismore. Beck watched as the boy spread his legs slightly, bowed his head and then thrust his hand out, magic sizzling toward the soil at his feet. Like Heath’s earthshifting, Beck felt a weak tremble as the young shifter attempted to manipulate the ground, his face screwing up in concentration and a line of sweat beading his forehead. Unfortunately, a quick bubble of sprayed dirt was as much as he could manage.

Beck heard snickers from the line and watched as Jon hung his head in disappointment.

Dismore glared at the legionnaires. “You think this is amusing?” he demanded, crossing the dirt to confront them faster than Beck thought possible with his bulk. “Men of the Northwatch Legion acting like silly children is amusing to you? It is disgraceful and I will not tolerate game playing in my Legion! We are a single unit, and we have to rely upon each other! Either get that through your thick skulls or pack your bags and go home to your mothers!” His face was purple with anger.

Caught off guard, the legionnaires cast their eyes downward and did not respond.

“Do you bloody idiots hear me?” he yelled.

“Yes, sir!” the Legion shouted and several of the boys banged their fists to their chests in accepted Northwatch fashion.

Dismore glowered at them for several more uncomfortable moments before turning back to Anders. “Good effort,” he said to the earthshifter. “Rejoin the line.”

Anders returned to the line, and Dismore called out the next name. “Airron Falewir!”

Airron stepped into the circle.

Dismore eyed him dubiously. “You are a bodyshifter, correct?”

“Yes.”

“How many forms do you have?” Most eighteen year olds joining the Legion had between six to eight solid forms that they could assimilate into on demand.

Airron rubbed his chin. “At last count? I believe it was seventy-nine, sir.”

Dismore’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “That’s impossible.”

Airron tilted his head, appearing to be deep in thought. “My apologies, sir. I was mistaken.”

Beck had to laugh at the look of what he knew was going to be short-lived relief on Dismore’s face. “It is not seventy-nine. It is actually eighty. I got a mantath two days ago.”

The legionnaires whistled in admiration. The mantath was a very large, long-snouted mammal covered in armored plates of hardened skin on its back and tail. Although, some of the adult male mantaths could grow as big as a small house, the animals were herbivores and, unless threatened in some way, avoided the human population. Airron was the only bodyshifter on the island who could command such a large form.

Beck learned that for a form to develop within a bodyshifter, he or she used their unique magic to completely siphon off and then possess a body’s genetic exterior image. Beck was with Airron when they encountered the mantath lying dead to the northeast of Hawthorne Lake, close to the Du’Che Forest where the large mammals made their homes. Before a predator had time to mutilate the carcass, Airron was able to absorb the form of the unfortunate mantath through his magic simply by placing his hands on the cadaver and transmuting the genomic characteristics into a distinctive shape that he could recall, if he wished, in the future.

“I would like to see it,” said Dismore with eager anticipation in his voice.

Airron walked to the center of the Testing Ground and removed his clothing. He stood naked for only a heartbeat before his pale body erupted upward and elongated, limbs thickening into stout, muscled legs with sharp claws and his body sprouting hard-shelled armor plates down his back as he morphed into the mantath. Dismore and the legionnaires stepped back as they regarded the sight of the reclusive and massive animal. Airron elicited hearty laughter—even from their irascible Commander—when the mantath rose up on wide hind legs and began to hop about. It took a playful swing at Rogan with its long snout, and then the body contorted downward as Airron shifted into a large bear and roared loudly. Over the next few moments, he shifted into a tortoise, hawk, crocodile, and horse before Beck gave up counting. He waited patiently along with the rest of the Legion as Dismore put Airron through form after form for the next half hour. When he finally seemed convinced that Airron was not lying about the extent of his abilities, he ordered him to dress and then sent him back to the line.