The Ranger (Book 1) (12 page)

His stomach growled. With a sigh he got up, pulled on his pants and grabbed a clean shirt from his pack. After strapping on his boots he drowsily made his way to the Hall, looking for something to eat. The same group of Rangers sat around the fire.

“Vincent,” Trent called as he walked through the door, “come get some breakfast.”

Vincent sat down next to the fire and Trent handed him a bowl of grey mush from a pot that hung over the fire. It neither looked nor smelled appealing.

“Enjoy,” Trent said before returning to his own meal. Vincent stared at the mush uncertainly.

“What is it?” He asked incredulously.

“It’s a mixture of various grains and some honey,” Lauren replied, notably cheerier than she had been the night before, which didn’t take much. “It’s good for you.”

Vincent took a cautious bite; it was sweet and tasted surprisingly good. He devoured the contents of his bowl and spooned himself out another.

“Someone’s hungry this morning,” David laughed. “I personally can’t eat more than one bowl of this...” he trailed off pointing at the bowl, not wanting to finish the sentence under the burning glare of Lauren.

The group laughed as David scooped himself a second bowl and hastily started eating once again. He looked relieved as Lauren finally took her gaze off of him.

“So, how did all of you end up as Rangers?” Vincent asked tentatively, as he didn’t want to offend.

“Now there is a story,” Trent sighed with a smile. “I have been a Ranger for almost thirty years now. I ran away from home when I was sixteen. Hitched a ride with a merchant who was passing through town and I was off, ready to see the world.” Trent shook his head with a disparaging laugh. “I made it as far as Vangelico before I ran out of food, and I didn’t have any money. It didn’t take long before I had to resort to picking pockets just to survive. I lasted about three months before I was caught. I saw a man that was wearing a fine, black cloak. He looked rich and I figured that if I could just get his purse, I wouldn’t have to steal again. Well, that man was Jason Silva.

“I didn’t stand a chance of getting away from him. I had barely grazed the coin purse tied to his belt when he spun around and caught me by the throat. I remember it still. He had a look in his eyes like he was ready to cut me in two, right then and there. I was terrified. Those red eyes of his didn’t help much either, I was sure he had to be a demon. Then his expression changed. ‘You look like you haven’t eaten in a while,’ he said to me. ‘Why don’t you come with me and we’ll get you something to eat.’ I’ve followed him ever since. At first he would only let me be a page, running errands around the camp; but he would take me aside every now and then and teach me something fun and exciting about being a Ranger. When I was twenty two he finally let me join.”

“My story is not much different,” Weston cut in. “My father was a merchant, specializing in fine silks and fabrics. We traveled the Empire doing business. But that didn’t last. We were attacked by a band of thieves. They killed my family, stole our goods and left me for dead. When I blacked out I was sure that I was a goner. I was surprised when I woke up. It was an even bigger surprise that I was in a warm bed. Master Silva was sitting next to my cot in the sanctuary here at the camp, reading an ancient book in a language long forgotten. That was almost ten years ago, I was twenty five.” Weston laughed to himself. “Funny how things turned out; I accepted Master Silva’s offer to become a Ranger because I wanted to get revenge on those thieves that killed my family. But now, I just want to keep that kind of thing from happening to others.”

“What about you, David?” Vincent asked, intrigued by the stories.

“My story is much less exciting,” David sighed. “My parents sent me to the academy as soon as I was old enough. They couldn’t wait to be rid of me. I figured that I would become a Ranger to prove to them that I was worth something. I requested to be transferred to the Rangers every year after I graduated, but every time I got the same response, I wasn’t ready. Looking back, I really wasn’t, but I thought they were just underestimating me, so I took every opportunity I could to show them that they were wrong. I got into a lot of trouble too. I was lucky that I didn’t get killed. Then, one day I was assigned to escort a nobleman from the abbey where I was assigned to the Grand Abbey. I was less than thrilled, but I did it. It was just me and one other knight. Little did I know, but the nobleman was actually Master Silva. We were attacked by Frost and a pack of his lupis. The other knight ran. I would have been right behind him; but something changed in me that day. I finally realized that there were more important things than being recognized by others. I had a duty to fulfill, and I was going to fulfill it. I killed the first lupis that jumped at me. Fortunately for me, Master Silva stepped in at that point and quickly dispatched Frost and his lupis.  When we arrived at the Grand Abbey, he asked me to join the Rangers. That was seven years ago.    

“Anyway, I have to go relieve Ben,” David said, snapping out of the semi trance he was in. “I’ll see you for lunch,” 

Vincent hadn’t noticed that Ben was missing.

“You’d better get going too, Fire Boy,” Lauren said sarcastically. “Jason doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Who?” Vincent asked, slightly confused.

“Master Silva,” Trent laughed, slapping Vincent on the side of the head. “Hurry up and get to the training field.”

Vincent dropped his bowl and dashed from the Hall as the others laughed raucously. He sprinted through the rows of cabins to the training field. He found Silva already there, casually juggling some small stones.

“Good morning Vincent,” Silva said, catching his stones. “Did you sleep well?”

“Well enough,” Vincent replied.

“Excellent, I hope for your sake that you have plenty of energy,” Silva was smiling, “you’ll need it. Now, first things first, you need to learn to control your token better; so make a ball of fire.”

Vincent nodded and took his flint from his belt pouch. Embracing his token, he struck the rocks together, causing a shower of sparks. He took hold of them with his token and made them grow to form a small ball of fire that hovered above his hand.

“Lauren tells me you threw a ball of fire at Frost last night,” Silva commented absently, Vincent nodded that it was true. “Well, if it was anything like that ball there, then I doubt you even singed his hair.” Silva stuck his hand into the ball. “See, there’s no power in it.”

Vincent felt the control of the ball pulled from him. Silva rolled the ball around in his hand, looking at it disapprovingly.

“This,” Silva continued as the ball suddenly erupted into roaring blue flames, “Is a ball that can be used as a weapon.”

Vincent could feel the intense heat rolling off the small ball. Silva allowed the ball to return to normal before returning it to Vincent.

“That’s the first thing you need to learn,” Silva explained. “Everything else is just an appendage of that ability. Good luck.” Silva started walking away.

“Wait,” Vincent called after him, “how am I supposed to learn something like that on my own? I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“Oh, but you have,” Silva said smiling and walking back. “Think about it. Try to remember.”

Vincent thought hard. It certainly hadn’t been when he fought Frost the night before, and Master Auna had definitely never mentioned anything like that. He was at a loss, and almost ready to admit defeat.

Suddenly a sharp pain cut across the scar on his shoulder where Mayberry had cut him not two days earlier. A blue flash of light and he was back on the field at the abbey, standing face to face with Mayberry again.

“You lack concentration,” Mayberry laughed.

The battle continued; then another blue flash. This time Mayberry’s blade stopped as the flames on Vincent’s sword glowed blue.

“That’s it!” Vincent exclaimed triumphantly as he returned to the present. “During the tournament; but I still don’t know how I did it.” Vincent reviewed the moment in his mind once more. “Mayberry said something about lacking concentration, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“It has everything to do with what we’re doing,” Silva commented emphatically. “To become a Pallàdrim, concentration is essential. Your whole mind must be focused on, and consumed by, the flames you are wielding. At the same time, you must be able to control the fire without thinking about it.”

Vincent stared at Silva, waiting for him to continue. Silva rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated sigh.

“So, the first step of your training is to make a ball of fire,” Silva instructed. “Then focus your mind, your thoughts, and your strength into that ball.”

Vincent stared at the ball of fire floating between his hands; thinking hard, pouring his very soul into it. Suddenly it erupted into roaring blue flame.

“I did it,” he exclaimed excitedly, looking at Silva.

“But look, now you’ve lost it,” Silva said reprovingly. “You lost your focus.”

Vincent looked back to the orange ball in his hands, the feeling of accomplishment fading quickly.

“When you can maintain that ball for an hour, without losing it for even a second, we’ll move on with your training. In the meantime, you will sit in that exact spot every day while you practice. There will be others training around you, but you must not get distracted.” With that, Silva left.

Vincent sat with his little ball of fire, the color shifting from red to blue and back again. A few times he managed to hold it for as long as a minute, but something would always catch his attention and the ball would flicker back to its original color. He had managed to hold it for five minutes by the end of the four hours of training. He had become so engaged in it that he had lost all track of time.

A small rock hit him hard in the side of the head. The fire puffed out with an odd pop.

“Oww,” Vincent cried, grabbing his head and looking around for the culprit. Lauren stood a few paces away, bouncing another rock in her hand.

“Hurry up, Fire Boy,” she said, sounding irritated. “I haven’t got all day.”

Vincent got up and stretched before walking over to where she stood at the edge of the field. She glared at him as he walked over.

“I don’t know why I have to waste my time training you,” she said coldly. “Let’s just make one thing clear: I neither like nor trust you. And after your episode last night, it’s going to take a lot to change that. However, Jason’s word is law, so I’m stuck with you.” She glared for a few more seconds.

“Follow me,” She said at length, leading him to one of the rails at the side of the field. She walked up to it, placed her hands on top of it and, without breaking stride, threw herself into the air landing firmly on the beam.

“Acrobatics and agility,” Lauren said condescendingly, “are not skills taught in the academy. But they are skills that are essential as a Ranger.” Lauren walked confidently across the beam before telling Vincent to climb up.

Vincent looked at the beam with uncertainty before trying to climb up. With great effort he eventually found himself on top of the beam, struggling to maintain his balance. It was narrow, not even as wide as his feet, and long.

“Now walk across it,” Lauren instructed, rather impatiently. Vincent managed three or four steps before losing balance and falling heavily to the ground.

“Do it again!”

Vincent pulled himself from the ground and climbed back on to the beam. He made it half way this time before falling again.

“Again,” Lauren sighed in frustration. Vincent climbed back up and fell again.

After about a half hour he had managed to make it all the way across the beam.

“Well done,” Lauren said mockingly. “Now walk back.”

Vincent turned and slowly walked back across.

“It’s a start,” Lauren said as she dropped from the bar and picked up two staves from the grass. She returned to the beam and jumped up without any difficulty. She casually tossed one of them to Vincent. He caught it, throwing himself off balance, but he managed to recover without falling off.

“Jason tells me you’re good with the quarter staff,” Lauren was smiling malevolently at him. “Let’s see just how good you really are.”

Vincent cautiously made his way out to the middle of the beam to meet her, the staff providing needed help in maintaining balance.

Lauren attacked without warning. Vincent managed to get the staff up to block the first two blows but he missed the third. Her staff clipped his legs, knocking his feet from the beam and sending him crashing to the ground, cracking his head off the beam on the way down.

He lay motionless on the ground as the shock wore off. He could feel blood pouring down his face from a gash above his right eye. Groggily, he got to his feet. Lauren was shaking her head in despair.

“That’s all for today,” she sighed. “Go get yourself checked out at the sanctuary, then go get some lunch.” Lauren walked off through the rows of cabins, still shaking her head and mumbling to herself.

Vincent stumbled toward the sanctuary on the other side of the encampment. The world seemed to be spinning and he lost his balance and fell more than once. Vincent was relieved when the sanctuary finally came into view through the rows of cabins. He tried running, hoping to get there a little faster; longing for relief from the throbbing pain in his head, but this just resulted in him falling once again. This time he just lay in the grass, his head pounding too intensely for him to even try to get up. The idea that a nap would been nice right about now was floating across his mind, but something told him that he could not sleep, so he struggled to stay awake.

As he lay, staring at the cloudy sky, he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Your face is one I don’t recognize,” a gentle, airy, woman’s voice said from above his head. “You must be new.” The speaker moved so Vincent could see her. Vincent’s jaw dropped slightly as a beautiful woman stepped into view, wearing the robes of a priestess. “Let’s get you inside and cleaned up,” She said, offering Vincent a delicate hand.

It felt odd to Vincent to be supported by such a slender woman, but he accepted the hand without complaint. She helped him through the door of the sanctuary and into a seat at the back of the large room within.