Chapter A HUNTSMAN AMONG WARRIORS
CH A HUNTSMAN AMONG WARRIORS
A/N: Aetheria has a 400-day orbital period, divided into 40 tenday (weeks) per year, which I further divided into 10 lunars (months). They measure a 16 “hour” day in ‘hour’ increments of eighty 80-second “minutes” ( It works out to about 28.4 of our hours).
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After they arrived home for the winter season from their first term at the King’s Academy, Yurieth spent hours standing out in the frigid mountain air, shooting his bow until his fingers bled. As soon as they healed, he went back to it. On Fifthday, two weeks after returning to the Winter Castle of Adamos, Abrieth went out and knocked the bow from Yurieth’s grasp.
“What is going on with you? You barely speak to Mother; you don’t speak to Father. You have read every book on warcraft I have to study... twice! And you shoot like your aim needs improving but it doesn’t. So, what has you like this? What are you hiding from me? I am your twin... Tell me!” Abrieth shouted at him.
Yurieth hung his head, standing with his fists clenched. “They are going to die.”
“Who are you talking about?”
“Haulper and the others we tried to teach. They are all going to die because we didn’t help them sooner. We just killed them slower...”
Abrieth stared at him wide-eyed. “You can’t know that, we taught them how to better defend themselves... How to fight better... we didn’t have much time, but we did better than those useless instructors at the Academy.”
Yurieth stalked over to one of the many targets he had filled with arrows and began pulling them out. “Abrieth, it wasn’t enough.”
“Maybe it wasn’t, but Father told you to share what you knew and learned with others, and by you, he meant us. You should have told me what he said to you sooner,” Abrieth huffed.
“I didn’t think he meant to start right away. I... I thought he meant once we moved up, that we were to mentor the younger novices. I’m sorry, brother. I failed our family’s honor again.” Yurieth couldn’t help his shame. He had spent all his off time in the last 8 lunars (months) either exploring the city, or the greenbelts beyond, time he could have been teaching those who knew nothing of weapons and survival. The skills he had been learning since he was fifty, skills of oracles and warriors that were wasted by his lackadaisical attitude.
“Yurieth, you didn’t know it was as bad as sending untrained common housers to the front lines to die. Our parents should have told us more clearly what they wanted of us” Abrieth complained as he helped his brother pull arrows from targets.
“It isn’t their way to tell us anything clearly. They are Oracles; Oracles keep secrets and talk in riddles, but Father said it to me plainly. He told me to share my knowledge with others. I failed to do so and because of my selfish and lazy attitude, many have gone to the war unprepared,” Yurieth retorted harshly, hating himself.
Abrieth shook his head. “We’re 175, it cannot be expected of us to train novices ranked above us or anyone for that matter. Do you really think training others what we know will help them?”
Yurieth’s one-word answer was not unexpected to his brother, “Yes.”
Abrieth’s eyes held his brother’s, noting the conviction there. “Very well, if you want to continue to do this, I will help you, brother. You teach arrows and axes ,and I will teach swords and staffs. And perhaps, we can help save a few.”
“Thank you, Abrieth,” Yurieth responded quietly.
“Don’t thank me, we just agreed to half-sleeping cycles for the next five years. And I like my sleep.” Abrieth retorted so grumpily, it made Yurieth laugh.
Three years later, Yurieth was sitting in the Headmaster’s office. He held his head high, keeping his gaze cool as he let his magic vibrate in the room. He knew the obese Headmaster was a petty, small minded man whose only concern was the quantity of novices he sent to the front lines, not the quality. He had let himself get caught so Abrieth and Regis could get the others away from one of their secret, after-hours training session.
Guardian Regulus of Remus strode into the door with Master Huntsman Axion on his right. Yurieth stood and bowed to both, he did not need to bow because he outranked them, but he did it out of respect. Respect he did not give Headmaster Horcur of Baalru.
“Lord Yurieth, would you like to explain to your future commanders why you were out after curfew and why you created a disturbance by attacking the sons of Thalon.” The man sounded like an angry snake and Yurieth wish he could separate him from his head.
“The sons of Thalon attacked me again.” He answered before returning his gaze to the real warriors in the room. “Guardian, Huntsman, I was merely training extra because I couldn’t sleep. The training workouts are extremely lax, and I do not want to lose my skills before going to the war,” Yurieth explained with confidence.
“How dare you claim the training of the King’s Academy is below standards. It is....”
“Yes, it is below standard!” Yurieth interrupted, “I had learned these skills before I was 120 and most of our common house novices are being sent to the frontline with even less knowledge than I had at 80.”
“So, you admit you are sneaking out to train with other students after curfew?” Headmaster Horcur demanded. “I should expel you.”
“And I should tell my mother’s cousin, Queen Xena, that you are squandering the Academy’s money on living above your rank, instead of training Aetheria’s future warriors.” Yurieth was only 178, but he was angry, and he let his magic shine in his eyes. The Baalru looked shocked at the power the young novice held. Yurieth’s voice dripped with all his contempt. “Yes, I admit that I am training those about to be sent to war duty a few skills that might keep them alive for more than a day. Perhaps they should send you and the trainers in their place.”
“Enough, Yurieth,” Axion admonished him. “Do not disrespect the Headmaster, just tell us what you found and why you are training novices who are leveled above you.”
“It is as you suspected, Master Huntsman. The Novices being sent up as guardsman do not have the training to guard an empty field. They lack sword and battle ax skill, have marginal proficiency with ranged weapons, and know next to nothing of hand to hand combat skills or defense.” Yurieth cataloged the lack of training with cold surety.
“How dare you,” Horcur hissed.
“No, Headmaster, how dare you... These novices may not come from a ranked house as I do, but they still deserve to be taught the skills to survive. Otherwise you should just send cattle to the front lines.” Yurieth had risen to his full height. He was tall for his age and starting to get more broad shouldered, but he was still smaller physically than the obese man. He knew however, he could easily harm this man and the thought of possibly thousands of unready commoners being sent to their deaths by the headmaster enraged him.
“Calm yourself, novice,” Axion said slowly.
“Yes, sir.” Yurieth bowed his head, but he was vibrating with his anger.
Regulus held up his hand to assuage the young Huntsman’s rage. “We have spoken to your brother and several others, you are not incorrect, Yurieth. I am here to relieve Horcur of his duties until a suitable replacement can be found. You, Abrieth, and Regis have permission to continue what you were doing last night until adequate instructors are found during regular evening hours. You are dismissed.”
Yurieth bowed again and left with a smug side-eye at Headmaster Horcur.
Axion followed him out. “Novice Yurieth, a moment.”
Yurieth looked at him expectantly. “You have done well, but I am not pleased with your display of negative emotions. You need to learn to master your more volatile feelings. As Huntsmen, we cannot let our violent passions overcome us as you do. You need to find a way to always center yourself, even in the middle of a city.”
“Yes, sir.” Yurieth suddenly felt ashamed of his loss of temper. He just hated feeling out of sorts as he had for most of his life. The only time he felt at peace was alone in the forest.
“We are Huntsmen in a world of warriors, young Yurieth. Our magic is more powerful and more easily twisted into something dark, therefore we have more responsibility to control it,” Axion admonished.
Yurieth stood quietly for a moment, “There is something else, Master Huntsman. I... I have found three foresters and another lesser huntsman among the newest novices from the common houses this year. I... I have been teaching them what Vlast taught me.”
“Yurieth, you have not mastered your own skills yet, it is not for you to be teaching others the ways of the Huntsmen,” Axion scolded.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I couldn’t let them, or any of the others, go untrained into the war.” Yurieth defended himself as Regulus joined them.
“Yurieth, how many of these lower huntsmen and foresters have you encountered in the last three years?” Axion demanded.
Yurieth bowed his head for a moment then held it high, defiantly he answered, “In the last three years, I have given nineteen other novices the benefit of sharing my huntsman training. All but two are still alive. There are many more foresters and lesser magicked huntsmen among the common rank than the Academy trainers acknowledge. They are wasting their natural skills by sending them to the war as poorly trained guardsmen to die.”
Regulus and Axion couldn’t hide their surprise from his heightened senses, even though their expressions remained passive. It made Yurieth feel slightly superior and even a little smug, that he had discovered what so many had missed.
Finally, Regulus spoke, “We would like to meet those that you, my son, and your brother are training.”
Yurieth and eight of those he had discovered to have some Huntsman’s Magic sat in a class with Master Huntsman Axion of Athenos. Today, they were meeting their new instructor. While Axion discussed the seeing magics and their uses by Huntsmen, the room was kept very dark. Yurieth felt a shift in the air. Without turning his head, he scanned left and right, then he sighed and leaned back like any bored student would, rocking his chair on to two legs. The darkness he felt shifted and moved along the wall. Beside him, Denan began looking around the room very obviously disturbed by the presence. In front of him, he saw Regis shift and tense. He felt the movement before he saw it as he rolled backwards out of his chair and used it to pin the person cloaked by the darkness against the wall.
“What are you doing here, Xelusian?” Yurieth hissed.
Denan and Regis both had their bows drawn with arrows ready.
A low chuckle rumbled from tall, lanky man. “You were right, Axion, he would make an excellent Assassin Seeker. And his two friends followed his lead without explanation or hesitation.” Brilliant red-orange eyes the color of carnelian held Yurieth’s silver ones.
“Novices, I would like you to meet Meteriel of the house of Caine, formerly of the Blood Assassins’ Brotherhood on Xelusian. My brother-by-joining and your new instructor,” Axion announced. “Return to your seats... that includes you, Lord Yurieth.”
“We are to trained by a Xelusian?!?” Yurieth blurted out in shock.
Meteriel appraised him coolly, “I am sealed to an Aetherian, I belong to the Light.”
Two years later...
Yurieth stood in the top of a tree, four of those he had been ‘training’ were also tree-top with him, Denan, and Regis. They watched as the several warriors moved through the forest below. The game was ‘capture the crown’, and so far, their small team of huntsmen and foresters were winning the tournament. As soon as the patrol from other team had moved on, he made a hand signal and the foresters with him leapt from tree to tree like squirrels, silently navigating to the edge of the enemy camp. A large brown flag with three crowns on it flew in the center of the camp. Yurieth grinned, as he saw his brother walking around giving orders. His team of Huntsmen and foresters had managed to steal three of the four other flags without the teams realizing it while keeping their flag secure from two attacks.
Abrieth’s group of warriors and protectors was preparing to meet another team on the mock battlefield when the other team had discovered their flag had been replaced and were forced to forfeit. Abrieth had immediately realized what was happening and set up a defensive perimeter as the second and third teams had to acknowledge discovered that they had lost their flags.
Denan held up the bundle that was the false flag, and Yurieth contemplated their options. They would not be able to stealthily switch the flags as they had with the other camps. This one they would have to outright steal, in broad daylight through deception. He held out his hand and it was tossed to him. At his signal, they retreated into the forest, then jumped a patrol and made them surrender their uniforms. His team walked into the camp completely unnoticed and took station with those guarding the flag while Yurieth snuck into the command tent and sat waiting for his brother and his commanders to return. He was sitting with his feet up when Abrieth walked in.
Yurieth grinned at him and the two other protectors with him. “I think you lost something, little brother,” He said as he tossed the brown bundle up and down in his hand.
Abrieth ground his teeth and glared at his older brother. “I did not lose anything, elder brother. My flag still flies above my camp.”
Yurieth laughed as if he was amused. “Are you absolutely sure?” Yurieth tossed the brown bundle in the air a few times, catching it deftly, then chucked it into the fire. His eyes shined with triumph. “I dare you to pull down your flag and prove that I didn’t just burn it.”
Abrieth nodded to one of his commanders, who barked an order at the guardsmen outside.
In moments, there was a commotion and the guardsman rush up to them. “Sirs, we took the flag down and the warrior who was supposed to fold it, handed it to another and then they both disappeared.”
Swearing, Abrieth turned back into the tent to find Yurieth gone and left a note on his map, “Thanks for taking your flag down for us, brother.”
A loud bell rang and Abrieth started laughing, “I think my brother, the Huntsman, just made a fool of all the warriors today.”