World Witout Wizards: Guard

Outside, I noticed that the neighbors were watching us. The villagers could rarely see such a picture. We looked more impressive than wandering skalds.

The spectators weren't ready to see three warriors walking down the road instead of their usual neighbors. Perhaps I shouldn't have called myself a warrior. I had neither experience nor skill. Although I fought with the neighborhood boys on the street a couple of times; this was hardly a real battle.

In any case, we looked impressive. The dwarf was dressed in armor with an ax on his back. He looked like a character from the tales of mountain kings' wars.

The elf with a longbow and dagger looked like a resident of the Forest of Thousand Nightmares. Many legends were told about this Forest. The most important was that no one ever came back alive. I couldn't compare myself to anyone. I didn't look like a ranger or a warrior or a knight... The memory of my father's sword burning my hand bothered me... I was not even like one of those pekiners who often patrolled our village…

"What's wrong?!" my father hit me with his gauntlet. Tears were running down my face. But I straightened my back so my father wouldn't hit me again.

A small crowd followed us to Chief Hall. All the little boys came out of their houses to see real warriors. Everyone was interested, regardless of their race: half-orcs, half-elves, and even half-dwarves.

I noticed that Chief Hall was built wider and lower than the warlock's mansion. Perhaps it was because Oulsast was fond of luxury.

As a child, I used to visit these places; but I never went inside. The old woman Lizariya looked out of the open door and distracted me from my thoughts. She was ancient even for half-elves.

The ancient creature beckoned me with her bony finger. When I went inside, she had already taken her place. In the center of the Hall sat six chiefs and Oulsast. Four girls stood behind the chief. Maybe he thought this Council was a special event or he just wanted to diversify his company.

"Welcome to the meeting!" Orc Glavasd, sitting to the left of the chief, nodded. He was the youngest of the family heads, he was only about fifty. The other participants were several hundred years old. So, Glavasd, who was something of a courier, took pride in his position.

"The purpose of today's meeting is to celebrate the coming of age of Michael Greystle, the blacksmith's son…"

"Wait, wait, wait," my mother stopped him, "What the hell are you talking about? He's half-blood! So he won't reach his age of majority till he's fifty! And my son's not even twenty! Michael's just a child!"

"According to the rules of the Falcon Empire, which apply to our settlement, an a.d.u.l.t is a male who has had intimacy with a woman. Michael has had such an experience already. I hope you won't argue with the magic."

"I don't mind the magic, but I don't like that you decided to make my son an a.d.u.l.t!"

"Calm down, Naomi," Lizariya replied, "Each of us is several hundred years old. Nobody here is about to jump to conclusions. Why should it be wrong for a man to come of age?"

"Right," I nodded. I was embarrassed and spoke in a low voice, which was clearly audible in the silent Hall.

"Listen to me, wife," my father looked at my mother, "I don't understand why you're against it."

"Think about it. They haven't made a decision about Lysandra yet, this harlot who got our son into this mess…"

"Stop! How dare you hicks talk about the decisions of the HAND representative?" Oulsast shouted. His hoarse voice was like a crow's croak. "The decision of magic isn't negotiable. I forbid you to discuss it!"

"What is this decision, if I may know?"

"Death," Oulsast replied calmly. The calmness with which the chief decided to take the life of another person shocked me.

"She betrayed her master. If she were free, the shame would be even greater. Fortunately, I didn't give her freedom by a magic order."

"Isn't the warlock responsible for the actions of his slaves?" Naomi asked derisively. The warlock's face twisted at my mother's words like he swallowed something very sour.

"Green Witch. I'm smart enough not to ask too many questions," the chief replied briskly, "I advise you to do the same if you don't want to lose your head. I can't execute you, but I can banish you from the village. Your son's a.d.u.l.thood is a proven fact. Your bastard must take responsibility for his actions. It's time for him to work for you and the HAND."

"Until he reaches…"

"I said his a.d.u.l.thood was a proven fact!" Oulsast shouted furiously. "If you dare say one more word... Bring the Sphere of True Purpose here! Let's see what it'll decide," the chief smiled rapaciously.

I felt cold.

"Dad, what is this bastard talking about?" I whispered to my father as he put his broad, hairy hand on my shoulder.

"That freak set a trap for us."

"Sonny, use your will and your wits. I'm afraid I haven't trained you enough for this... But we have no choice... You'll see visions... Do what you consider right. And most importantly, remember, don't use magic! Is that clear? If you use it to solve problems there, it won't be the chief's business. The Governor will learn of your rare gift, and then the Black guards will come."

"That's right," father nodded, "The Black guards aren't like these jerks. They're real black knights with weapons and magic. They might ride metal beasts. Do what you like, but don't dare to call Light. Got it?"

"Yes, I understand. I'm not stupid," I was trying to calm my parents down. "What is going to happen?"

"The magic ordeal…" Naomi sighed. "It won't be blood magic or life magic; it'll be the most dangerous magic of the Soul."

"Why is it dangerous?"

"You'll understand," the blacksmith said sullenly, pointing to the far end of the Hall.

"Oh," I cried out involuntarily when I saw what the guards were dragging into the hall.

"It's really scary, darling."

From a distance, the object looked like a chair. When they brought it closer, I saw that it was made of bones and black metal. The top was a transparent flask in which a demonic head floated. I didn't want to think about how many living things had been killed for manufacturing this throne. A small tapestry depicting a black hand hung in the middle of the chair: the ubiquitous HAND of the Emperor.

"Well, sit down," grinning Oulsast pointed to the chair, "The HAND will show you the path."

I was ready to fight smiling Oulsast with my homemade sword. Even a battle with the black-armored guards didn't scare me as much as sitting under that strange skull.

My father patted me on the shoulder, and my mother nudged me in the back. Well, someday I'd have to do it. Why not now? After a couple of uncertain steps, I found myself before this strange and eerie structure, and then, pulling myself together sat down in the chair.

The next second, the water in the container began bubbling and the demon's eyes opened wide.

I tried to get up, but dozens of clips and straps instantly wrapped around my entire body. My hands were firmly chained to the armrests, two black bony palms held my head. Right in front of my face, the skull with red eyes laughed.

"Let the ordeal begin!" Oulsast shouted, hitting his staff on the wooden floor. The demon instantly shut his mouth, concentrating, and I realized with horror that a strange stabbing cold was penetrating my head through his fingers. At first, nothing happened, but then I was swallowed up by darkness.