The Ranger (Book 1) (23 page)

Trent seemed totally lost in his memories, as though he was reliving it as he told the story. “Ben fell, exhausted, burnt and bleeding. I helped him back to his feet and we slowly limped our way back to where the cabin had been. There was nothing, it was all gone, all of it. We had been sent on a rescue mission, but we failed. All those Rangers died in vain.”

Trent fell silent. A somber look shadowed his normally cheerful countenance as he wiped a tear from his cheek.

“But why,” Vincent asked, his voice little more than a whisper. “Why did the Magi attack?”

“Because of you, Vincent,” Trent replied, his voice as somber as he looked. “The Magi discovered that the one believed to be the Chosen of Sandora had been born. That alone would have sent them after you, but your parents were also protecting the last heir of the old kingdom.”

“So,” Vincent said disbelievingly, “one of the children in the hole with me was the Heir of Pallà?”

“One of the girls,” Trent nodded.

“Why would she have been there? Shouldn’t she have been under the protection of the Guardian?”

“Vincent,” Trent looked hesitant, “your father
was
the Guardian.”

Vincent was stunned by this revelation, but he had too many questions to stop now.

“But the heir, what happened to her?”

“That is a story for another day.” A voice from behind startled them both. Vincent turned to see Silva standing with his usual smile, his red eyes aglow with excitement. “Vincent, if I could have a word with you in my cabin.” Silva gestured for Vincent to follow him as he walked away.

They walked in silence to the cabin. Millions of questions flew through Vincent’s mind. Silva had been there the night his parents died; why hadn’t he said anything?

Silva didn’t speak until they were both seated at the table in his cabin. Today it was piled high with papers of different sizes.

“So,” Silva began, “you have finally learned the truth.

“So it would seem,” Vincent responded bitterly. “Why didn’t you tell me my father was the Guardian? Why did you keep it a secret? And my mother, why could she use a token?

Silva sat quietly as Vincent ranted. When the questions finally stopped he smiled warmly.

“Finished?”

Vincent nodded. He felt oddly relieved.

“Very well,” Silva continued, “we kept the secret of your father because, until you became a Ranger, it was simply too risky to tell you. If you had let slip to anyone, your life would have been in danger.”

“Fine,” Vincent conceded, “but what about after? I’ve been a Ranger for months. I’ve jumped through every hoop you’ve set before me, and still not a word. Why?”

“Would it have truly made any difference?” Silva asked sincerely. “Would knowing that your father was a Pallàdrim have made you believe our story more than you did, or have made you try any harder?”

Silva’s words stung Vincent. It was true; had they told him from the beginning he wouldn’t have believed them, and he couldn’t have put forth more effort than he already had. The anger faded.

“Do you feel better?”

“Yes,” Vincent answered.

“Good, now as for your mother,” Silva explained, “she was a rarity. In the days of the Pallàdrim there was another class of warrior that rivaled the Pallàdrim in strength. They were known as the Freya. Like the Pallàdrim, they were not touched by age. However, that is where the similarity ends. The Pallàdrim were men, the Freya, women. Pallàdrim could wield fire, Freya used water. The Pallàdrim were the elite army of the kingdom while the Freya were the personal army of the Royal Family. There was a rivalry between the Pallàdrim and the Freya for centuries.

“The Freya were disadvantaged though,” Silva continued. “The Token of Water is a hereditary trait. Unlike all other tokens, which have to be sought from the Goddess, Water is granted at birth, or not at all. Your mother was one of the last of the Freya.”

“Then Lauren and my mother are related,” Vincent reasoned. Silva only laughed at this assumption.

“Distantly Vincent,” Silva chuckled. “You might as well say that you and I are related. It has been more than a thousand years since your mother’s branch broke off from the tree. Keep in mind, Vincent; your parents were over five hundred years old when they died.” This idea shocked Vincent, but he wanted to know more.

“If it is hereditary, then why don’t I have it?” he asked.

“Here we enter unknown territory,” Silva sighed. “It has been a standing law for millennia that Pallàdrim and Freya did not marry, especially among each other.”

“But why?”

“When those who control a token have children, the power threshold of the parent is passed on to the child.” Silva explained. “For the average Knight this makes no difference, but for those with incredibly high power thresholds, like the Pallàdrim and the Freya, it was becoming dangerous. Children who received tokens were dying or burning out before they had a chance to be properly trained. They simply had too much power at their command. You were the first in over a thousand years to be born the son of a Pallàdrim father and a Freya mother; which explains your immense power threshold and control over your token. But this is where the story ends. There is so much that we simply don’t know.”

All the missing pieces had come together. It all made perfect sense. Vincent was surprised that he hadn’t put it together sooner. How else could his father have known the techniques reserved for the Pallàdrim? But there were still many unanswered questions.

“If you’re quite satisfied,” Silva said, interrupting Vincent’s thoughts, “there is other business that needs attending to.”

Vincent pulled his thoughts back to the present as Silva looked at him appraisingly.

“Your training has been exceptional these past few months,” there was a hint of approval in his voice. “You are hereby being promoted from Apprentice Ranger to Junior Ranger, and being assigned to a company.”

Vincent’s heart leapt with excitement. This was the moment he had waited for since he had become a Ranger.

“With the death of Benjamin, an opening has arisen in the red team of the fifth company,” Silva continued. Vincent couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You will be teamed with Lauren and report to Trenton. Therefore, all further training should be done together with your team mate to promote trust and unity. To be a successful Ranger, you and your team mate must become of one heart and one mind. Any questions?”

Vincent shook his head.

“Good,” Silva nodded, looking back to the piles of paper in front of him. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine together. She should be moving her belongings into the empty room in your cabin as we speak.”

“Is that everything?” Vincent asked as Silva became increasingly engaged in his paperwork. He was starting to feel hungry and wanted to get something to eat.

“There was one more thing,” Silva added as Vincent was about to get up. “I have an assignment for you and Lauren.”

Vincent forgot his hunger as he took renewed interest in the conversation.

“It has been several weeks since we have had word from the Draylor,” Silva stated. “The Draylor protect an immensely valuable item on behalf of the Pallàdrim. Normally, this would not be a problem; the Draylor have gone decades in the past without making contact with the outside world. However, the Grand Abbot has fallen ill. This is a very bad omen and Master Auna is worried. He feels that it is necessary to collect the item they protect. You and Lauren will travel to Senno to meet him. From there you will travel together to the Draylor Caverns in the northern mountains. It is a white class mission, so there’s nothing to worry about; but it will be a great opportunity for the two of you to get to know each other.”

“Yes sir,” Vincent agreed.

“Excellent. Lauren will fill you in on the other details. You leave at noon. She is my personal ward, Vincent, I expect you to take care of her. I intend for you to protect her.”

Vincent quietly left Silva’s cabin and went to the Hall. It was deserted. Fortunately a small portion of porridge was still simmering over the dying embers. It was burnt, but Vincent didn’t care.

He was just finishing his last spoonful when Lauren entered.

“It appears that we are partners now,” she said, sounding less than excited.

“That’s what I’m told,” Vincent tried to put a bit more enthusiasm in his voice.

“Well, at least you can hold your own,” she said flippantly, “so I won’t have to babysit you.” She paused before leaving. “Meet me at the gate at noon, ready to go. We’ll be gone for quite some time, so pack accordingly.”

Vincent marveled at the almost pleasant conversation he had just had with Lauren as he, too, left the Hall. She had shown a marked improvement in her attitude toward him since the Earth Tower.

Lauren had already moved her things into the cabin when Vincent entered, but she was nowhere to be seen. He had almost forgotten that the room existed until that morning.

He went about packing the things that he thought he would need for the long journey into his small travel pack. He put on his armour and travel cloak. The tunic, he noticed, was new. Master Silva was cunning when it came to that sort of thing.

Vincent lay on his bed, watching the grains of sand fall in the hourglass next to his bed. Time seemed to have slowed as he anxiously awaited his first real assignment.

As midday finally rolled around he got up. Tired of waiting he started walking toward the gate, not wanting to be late. To his surprise, Lauren was already there.

“You’re early,” she said curtly. “Good, an extra hour of daylight might put us at Senno before nightfall. Let’s go.” Lauren tied on her mask as she exited the gate. Vincent followed. They were off.

Chapter 14: The Request

The road to Senno was crowded. Caravans and nobles traveled to and from Spacco from all over Pallà. As Senno was the junction where roads met for one of the few navigable passes over the mountains the road leading there was often packed. The groups of people parted as Vincent and Lauren emerged from the forest, creating a small bubble around them.

“Is it always like this on busy roads?” Vincent asked in a whisper.

“Usually,” Lauren nodded. “The people of Pallà do it out of respect; the Eresians do it out of fear. They don’t understand our powers, and they fear what they don’t understand.”

They continued in silence for another hour. The other travelers on the road continued to stare. Vincent was starting to feel uncomfortable.

“I’ll explain the details of the mission,” Lauren said quietly, noticing Vincent’s agitation. “At this rate we should arrive at Senno just after nightfall. Master Auna will be waiting for us at the sanctuary there. We’ll spend the night there and leave together in the morning. It’s a four-day journey from Senno to Spacco, assuming all goes well. The road to Spacco crosses the Border Mountains and is fairly treacherous. The passes are narrow and often have sheer drop-offs, not to mention the overabundance of thieves; but we shouldn’t have any trouble on the last front.”

“Once we reach Spacco,” she continued, “we’ll need to gather as much information as possible on the Draylor situation. Master Auna has some business he needs to attend to at the abbey there, so that should give us the time we need for reconnaissance. As soon as he’s finished at the abbey, we’ll carry on. From Spacco, it’s another full day of travel to the Draylor Caverns. We collect the item then return to the camp as soon as possible.”

“Sounds easy,” Vincent commented, feeling slightly relieved.

“Yeah,” Lauren agreed, “too easy. It’s going to be a boring couple of weeks.”

The hours dragged on as they walked in silence. The forest on either side of the road never seemed to end.

The other travelers on the road started to thin out as the shadows grew longer. The lonely howl of wolves started to sound in the distance.

The forest ended, giving way to vast fields of grain that rolled like waves under the evening breeze.

“This is the border of Senno,” Lauren said, breaking the long silence.

“How far to the city?” Vincent asked with a yawn.

“If we pick up our pace, we should be there within the hour,” she answered pensively, “and I think we should. I’d prefer not to be in the open like this at night.

The sun had almost disappeared behind the mountains as they started off at a light jog toward the distant city. The cries of the wolves were becoming more frequent now, and they were getting closer.

The city gate of Senno was old and beaten. Large metal studs held it together. A strange excitement coursed through Vincent. He had never been to a city before; the abbey was all he had ever known growing up.

Lauren approached the gate and knocked, hard. After a moment, a small window in the gate, just big enough to show the suspicious eye of the man on the other side, opened.

“Who is it?” he asked, sounding annoyed at being disturbed. He had a high pitched, wizened voice.

“Rangers,” Lauren answered calmly.

The man squinted in what might have been a glare before the window slammed shut. There was silence. Lauren continued to stand quietly, staring at the door. The sound of a bolt sliding and the turning of a very elaborate locking mechanism broke the silence. A little door creaked open in the gate revealing a little old man who must have been the gate keeper. He held his lantern high, trying to get a good look at them.

“Welcome to Senno, Rangers,” he said quietly. Lauren nodded and walked past without a word. Vincent followed.

The street that led from the gate ran straight through the middle of the city. It was broad and paved with stone. Tall buildings filled with shops lined both sides. Vincent drank it all in.

The city streets were empty and very few lights shone in the upper windows of the buildings, which Vincent assumed were the homes of the people who owned the shops below. It was deathly silent.

The street led them to the center of the city where a large square opened before them. The square was lined with even bigger buildings than those of the main street. These, however, seemed to be exclusively residential. They were much more elegantly built, with elaborate carvings in the walls.