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Chapter 11: Castle Cinder

  Chapter 11 - Castle Cinder

  General Ecbert stomped across the parade ground, following a well-worn path perpendicular to the castle as Riley struggled valiantly with her mind.

  It was a battle she was destined to lose.

  ‘Why aren’t we going to the castle? Why are those kids running drills? Ooh, I’m hungry; why are there no fruit carts?’

  The questions raced through her mind like a skipping record as, for the first time, she picked up the distinct impression of Tobias centering himself before closing a door.

  She looked up at him as her ears flattened in disappointment.

  ‘Coward,’ she projected loudly within, as another group of children no older than nine ran by in block formation wearing heavy mail shirts.

  ‘I don’t know if I’m comfortable with this,’ as she thought it, Tobias’ unease leaked from underneath his mental door while flashes of Ranger Central came to the forefront.

  ‘This is definitely not Ranger Central. We were all adults... Kind of... uh....’ Riley whispered to herself, wrestling with Captain Obvious for the title.

  The skyscraper-like castle stayed to her left before gradually falling behind as, slowly, new buildings arranged in a grid-like cluster came into view.

  Each seemed identical to the other, possessing four stories, with all the artistic flourish of a cracker box, with one lone unit standing as if a sentry in front of the others, much like the children running drill.

  General Ecbert was heading right for it.

  “Keep up, pets!” he snarled again, using his words like a whip.

  Every time Riley heard it, it bit down into the hide of her patience, leaving lash marks across her exsanguinating calm.

  ‘He uses that phrase one more time, and I swear to the Gods that live...’

  ‘Riley, Cid energy,’ Tobias whispered within their shared connection.

  Even the admonishment provided a cool burst of welcome relief as General Ecbert exploded through the door.

  “You, Thomas, at attention!” He bellowed as a wiry man with two prosthetic arms shot up from his seat.

  “Yes, sir!” A familiar brown aura of brown assistive magic wreathed the artificial appendages as his right fist came up over his chest in a Calarian salute.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “This is Page Riley and Page Tobias; they are to be quartered in their own dorm pending evaluation to begin on the morrow,” Ecbert bristled.

  “Excuse me, Sir, but that’s not our title,” Tobias said, using deference to hide his disdain.

  Ecbert spun around on his heels and thrust a pointed finger into Tobias’ chest.

  “You think a yet-crowned king can just make you a knight and a first-tier boy? There’s the way the aristocracy does things, and there’s the way we do things, and maybe you’ve failed to notice, but you’re in my world now, son, and I say, until you show you’re worth a shit, you aren’t shit! Survive your evaluations intact, and you may prove yourselves worthy of respect. Until then, you shut up and pay your dues like every other blasted page that has come before you!” The veins in his neck bulged with rage as the two became aware of dozens of eyes in the large space now locked upon them.

  “I’ve had about had enough of you! We saved the Kingdom!” Riley snapped, drumming her hind paw into the hard stone.

  “Oh, and do you want a medal pet? I mean, another one? They gave you a fancy title and a fancy hall, but you fail to realize that a good first-tier team could have done it with far less noise and pomp. You’re second-tier trash until you can prove to me you’re worth something. I’m sure the others that have earned their way here will give you a proper welcome until you’ve left in the morning,”

  Shoving Tobias out of the way, General Ecbert was out the door, leaving a shocked silence in his wake.

  Tobias nodded respectfully to Thomas, trying to ignore the stares.

  “We’re not asking for special treatment. We’re black blades through and through. Billet us in the basement. All we need is a place to roll out our bedrolls till the morning.”

  “And to think, that was one of his good days,” Thomas shook his head before sitting back down behind his desk, his legs making a metallic thudding noise against the chair, “I think we can do better than that. It’s tradition for a team to have a room to themselves the night before their final trail, 4th floor, this way.”

  He rose, hobbling out from behind his desk, holding a ring of heavy iron keys that looked more fitting for a prison than a barracks.

  “If you just give us directions and the key, we’ll save you the climb,” Tobias offered.

  “Let an old man enjoy the fact that he still has some use. I’ll manage; I always have,” Thomas grinned before entering a stairwell.

  “A word of advice: don’t let Ecbert throw you. He’s a gruff, uncompromising bastard, but he means well,” he continued, hobbling up the stairs.

  The brown magic glowed brightly around his prosthetics as his artificial knees squeaked with each step.

  “We know someone like that, back on our side of things,” Riley replied.

  “Ah, a training officer perhaps? Cid?” Thomas’ mouth twisted again into a wide grin.

  “How do you know Cid?” Tobias pressed as they neared the top of the stairs.

  “Oh, I don’t, but everyone’s been talking about your exploits. An experienced enough first-tier team could have handled Chadrick, that is true, but they didn’t; you did, and you ascended to boot. That’s the biggest story to breeze across Avalon in a thousand years!” Thomas, making his way down the hall, stopped in front of a nondescript door with iron bands bracing it, worn black with age. A heavy lock and ring style latch hung heavy from a thick iron shaft, pockmarked from centuries of use.

  Small and cramped, a single bed dominated one wall and a long desk on the other, with a washing bowl and chamber pot on one end.

  “Ah, Motel Six, fancy,” Riley snarked.

  “It’s sparse but clean, and the floor is yours. I’ll make sure none of the pages bother you,” Thomas said.

  “Thank you,” Tobias gave a short bow, clasping his right fist over his chest.

  “United in magic and purpose, we are the tip of the blade; we serve and bleed for the Ashen throne,” Thomas said before turning to leave.

  https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/81852/second-tier-sorcery

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