Loopbreaker

He had wanted to scream as they moved through the magical gate, yet no sound escaped his throat.

One moment, they were in that tent, and the next, his boots met solid stone. It took a second for his eyes to adjust, but there, across from him, was a young boy, fourteen, if he was lucky, in a brown robe, staring wide-eyed at them.

“You… welcome! I shall announce your presence!”

“Wait!”

Even though Francis shouted, the boy exited through the wooden door and disappeared.

“Where are we?” Michael asked.

Glancing around them, Francis saw they were in a circular stone room with lanterns that illuminated the ten-foot-wide space.

“I’m guessing Caereenal.”

“No crap,” his brother replied. “I mean–”

Footsteps rang out from the hallway where the boy had taken off--both of them stopped talking, waiting to see who was coming.

The young boy, now red-faced, arrived first, having only been gone maybe twenty seconds at best.

Behind him came a bald older man, huffing while holding his green robe up to prevent himself from tripping.

“Welcome… I am… Alfred. Can I see… your papers?”

Francis nodded and stepped forward, pulling both letters out from his jacket and handing them to the man, who was out of breath.

Wiping a sleeve across his head, Alfred took the letters and examined the seals on them.

“General Stenson’s personal seal… Welcome! Come, let me take you to the Keeper of the Spires and she shall personally see what these letters say.”

He motioned for his brother to move as the older man turned and started waddling off.

The teen stared at them wide-eyed as they walked by the young him.

Francis tried not to laugh as his brother silently mouthed ‘what the hell’.

***

It took them about five minutes to walk through hallways, rooms, and doors, not once leaving whatever building they were in. Three sets of stairs eventually led them to a large room with a man sitting at a desk outside a very-expensive-looking metal door.

“Why are you here, Alfred?” the man asked, only glancing up once before looking down at the paper he was reading.

“Pardon the intrusion, Mage Loxmere,” Alfred said. “These two came through the gate and have letters with General Stenson’s seal. I thought–”

“Give them to me now,” the man snapped, holding up his hand while keeping his eyes fixed on his paper. “I shall see to them.”

The older man bowed low and then moved quickly to hand the letters to the man, stepping back almost in the same motion.

Francis studied the room, which had two open windows. Fresh air flowed in. Two bookshelves, a desk, and a single table with cups and a pitcher were all that decorated it. Beyond that, there was nothing else save stacks of paper on the large wooden desk.

When the brown-haired man brought the letters near his face, he froze for just a second before looking up, a smile that looked almost real forming.

“Ahh, these are indeed the seal of our esteemed General. Forgive me, I needed to ensure they were real. I am Kaelith Loxmere, assistant to Avelis, the master of the Scholars’ Spires. Welcome.”

Francis moved as if he belonged and approached the desk, inclining his head.

“I am Francis, and this is Michael. General Stenson said we would bring the letters to the Master of the Spires and let them alone see them.”

He watched as the man’s left eye twitched briefly before his head nodded an inch or two at best. Taking a deep breath, Kaelith let it out slowly.

“I can see if she is… available, but are you certain you wouldn’t prefer me to open them now and see what the General needs?”

“That is not my place to say,” Francis replied. “I just know the General was very specific about the instructions he gave. He and the King were discussing this decision.”

Francis wanted to laugh, watching as the assistant rose from his chair, eyes now locked on the two letters in his hand--the only thing stopping him from reading them was a seal and the words just spoken.

“Give me a moment, then. I shall see if she is available.”

Kaelith pulled a glass orb from a pocket hidden in his robe, and it turned blue.

A few seconds passed, and then the metal door with words and symbols etched on it began to open.

“Master Avelis says to please come inside and bring these to her,” the man said.

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It took a little more force than Francis had expected to pull the letters from Kaelith’s fingers, but once he had them, he gave another bow and moved toward the door.

Light filled the area within, and the scent of musty paper struck his nose as he went inside. Rows and rows of books were lined on shelves that ran along the room they had entered.

Each shelf had a glowing gem that gave off a yellow light. Some areas had scrolls stacked upon each other, and across the room, through the middle row of shelves, was a white-haired woman in a black robe.

She smiled at them and motioned for them to come forward, yet Francis felt his feet wanting to stay put.

“That’s one scary woman,” Michael whispered as they made their way to her.

Francis didn’t respond to his brother’s words, though he felt the same aura coming from her. She had something similar to heat radiating from a fire, which made his body almost lock up.

Her smile never left her lips as they drew near and she held out her hand.

He put both letters in it without realizing it and stood there like a statue.

“The King and General sending me two young men and a letter for each,” she said. “Not what I was expecting at all.”

Her fingers ran over the wax seal, and Francis saw a slight shimmer before they broke. Without waiting, Avelis opened the first one and read it. She frowned after finishing it.

“Which one of you is Michael Quinnor?”

“Uh… that would be me,” Michael said. His brother bowed.

“It appears you will be moved to the barracks and receive training from a specific instructor. Tell me, why has the General asked for this?”

“I… don’t know,” Michael replied

Francis felt pressure against him, similar to the sensation he had experienced when Priscilla had been talking to him in the tent. His brother looked unable to think, and his voice seemed distant.

A tsk came from the woman’s lips and she frowned. Without waiting, she moved to the second--he saw her eyes widen as she read it.

“Francis Lancaster… I know that name. Yet it doesn’t make sense that you would be here. Three of your siblings are already here. For the King and the General to personally vouch for you… Tell me, Francis, why did they send you to the Spire?”

[ Mental Resist Successful ]

[ Mental Resist Increased – 26 Proficient ]

Like a fog blown away by a strong wind, his mind returned, and the room snapped back into clarity.

Before him was an older woman who looked much less intimidating than she had been a few moments earlier. Her black robe showed a few dust marks, and her blue eyes had a yellow light in the pupils.

“Because both of them believe I’m worthy of the training,” Francis replied.

Her eyes widened and then the woman cackled, folding the papers, the glow vanishing from her eyes.

“Impressive. You have the ability to resist, and he does not. I thought I recognized the white color of your hair, but many invest in things to make it look that color. You stand out but not so much as to make one defensive.”

The master of the Spire began to move around him and he followed her, seeing his brother starting to breathe more normally, obviously no longer under whatever spell she had used.

“I can sense… potential… power… strength. Even more, what this letter says is… impossible and dangerous.”

He said nothing, waiting as the older woman returned to the spot she had started her pacing.

She handed Michaels the letter meant for him.

“Go, take that to Kaelith. He will get you set up. For now, I must talk with Francis.”

Francis nodded at his brother, who was blinking rapidly and chewing on his lip.

“Thank you,” his brother said.

Another chuckle came as his brother seemed to stagger for a moment before regaining his stride and reaching the door, which had started swinging open. Once it had shut, Francis could feel the woman doing something again.

“A sage… here, and from a family that already has three with potential… Tell me, have the gods marked you?”

“Forgive me, ma’am, but all I can say is I am where I need to be. If we are to win the war–”

“Yes, yes, I read that… ‘make sure he is trained in everything combat-related. This one will help us win the war. Stenson is never overdramatic and the man is direct to a fault, so if he is convinced you are special and the King agrees, there must be something special about you. Still… to capture that fool like that… is impressive.”

“Why do you call him a fool?” Francis asked. The words had come forth before he realized it, and he immediately grimaced.

“Bold, are you? Well, I like that in a student, but we’ll break that from you quickly,” Avelis said, smirking. “Did Stenson warn you of what you will face being here?”

“He did.”

Frustration was beginning to rise inside him; Francis couldn’t help but feel pissed. He had been here only a few minutes and had already been assaulted by mental magic—and the man he entrusted with his secret was being labeled a fool.

“Well, that warning the general may seem to help make things easier for you, I, however, won’t. You’ll be in a section of the Spire with other nobles. One of which contains a brother of yours.”

Internally, Francis groaned, knowing that it didn’t matter which brother it was--life had just gotten much worse.

“Do you have a preference?”

Oh no… I’m not going to give that away.

“No, ma’am. Either of them is fine. Or both. Just tell me, am I allowed to defend myself if they attempt to bully me?”

Laughter echoed off the walls and shelves as the woman held her stomach momentarily.

“Oh… to be young and foolish! Yes, you can defend yourself, but you might want to consider the fact that both of them have been here for years. Your oldest brother, Aiden, I believe, will graduate at the end of this year. He is almost an advanced-level warrior, if I recall correctly. A gifted one, really. I would be cautious about incurring his anger.”

“And Derrek?”

Her smirk returned, and she shrugged. “Another fine man. Two years from graduation now--again, not a person I would want angry at me if I were in your shoes.”

She sighed and folded up the letter. “You can defend yourself, and you will get healing from any injuries suffered. Just know that all this means is they might continue to beat you every day. As long as they don’t kill or maim you, it’s just another lesson to learn here. In fact, you will find that some of the training sessions Stenson has asked you to be part of will make you wish you were dead. The physical demand is… brutal.”

“I’ll be fine,” Francis replied, holding out his hand. “Neither one of them will bother me.”

She shook her head and narrowed her eyes.

“You are different. I can tell, not just because you could resist my ability to make you speak, but because you hold yourself like you… belong here.”

“I do belong here. Trust me. I’ve earned this right through blood, sweat, and worse.”

Her head moved up and down slowly a few times before she put the letter in his hand.

“You believe that. Only time will tell if it is true. Now, do you have any questions for me? After this moment, you will most likely never encounter me again until graduation. The only other time a student gets a chance like this is after breaking a major rule or accomplishing the impossible.”

Francis wasn’t sure what to ask. He had hundreds of questions that he wanted answered, yet none of them seemed worthy of her time.

In the end, if I have to do this a thousand times to learn everything I must, none of it will matter.

“I’m good. All I need right now is a little food and perhaps a short nap. It’s been a long day.”

Chuckling, Avelis pointed toward the door.

“Then go out and wait for Kaelith. He will return shortly and take you where you belong.”

Francis nodded, ignoring the way she had said belong and bowed.

“I look forward to seeing you soon, Master Lancaster,” Avelis called out.