It was a free day – a day when Lord Blue Beard allowed his students to take the day off. It was an uncommon opportunity to relax, only given a couple of times each month.
It was well past midday, and Ashviel was in a lively discussion with Kael, Kyra and Smythe when Sir Ginx himself came to call him. He had not seen the knight for days, and felt a little uneasy when he was told to come along.
He silently followed the instructor to the gate, too scared of the sullen knight to ask a question. Sir Ginx did not bother to explain either, and the only words that came from him were said to hasten Ashviel up. They reached the front gate in no time and slipped through it.
It was the first time Ashviel stepped out of the academy ever since their arrival. As he got out of the gate, memories of his ordeal with Manny and Edward flashed through his mind. For the short moment it lasted, he had killed six bandits – six men.
Now that he thought about it again, he felt a little sick at the idea of his first kills being mere bandits. He was not sorry for them, nor was he proud of cutting them down. The only people he wants to kill more than ever are Capricorn soldiers, Trost specifically. He looked at the soil below him and wondered if his blows had killed Edward, the armored brigand.
"Will you move it!" Sir Ginx's harsh words jolted him.
They took a turn and headed northwards, hastily marching out of the woods. Ashviel inquired what the haste was all about, and why Sir Ginx of all people would single him out on an expedition.
They travelled on for hours, leaving the woods behind them and entering a small wasteland. They walked on for few more minutes before spotting a group of men on horsebacks. At first, Ashviel considered them bandits, but the look on the knight's face assured him that there was nothing to cause them worry, at least not for him. They drew closer and Ashviel saw from their dressing that they were likely mages.
"Here he comes," said one of the men on horsebacks to his comrades. They were four of them, one of them being a woman. One of them, dressed quite elegantly, sat resplendent on his horse. Behind him was a large container the size of a small hut.
"You are a moment late, Ginx," he said to the knight.
"Pardon me, Grandmaster Tudor, I had some…lose ends to tie"
'Grandmaster?' Ashviel shook with fear as he heard the title. He took a closer look at the man, who gave a very cold stare.
Sir Ginx greeted the remaining mages, addressing each as a master. Ashviel's confusion grew into anxiety and he looked suspiciously at Ginx. Just the day before, he had spoken with Master Vauxall, and the master had said nothing about a meeting with a grandmaster and masters. 'Is this then wholly an invention of Ginx?'
"Sir Ginx," said a bald one among them in a businesslike manner. "We have our package, as you have the boy."
Sir Ginx grabbed Ashviel by the collar, and what a mighty grip it was, for Ashviel found himself unable to breathe as Ginx dragged him by the collar. He hurled him forward, such that Ashviel came closer to the men.
"Open the package, Kosrov," said the woman to the fourth, a short young man with an especially long nose.
"Huh?" said he with indignation. "Don't think you can order me about that way."
"Do as you are told," the grandmaster cautioned Kosrov, who went silent immediately.
"Don't bother," said Ginx as Kosrov turned. "I should want to open it myself."
"Good," said the grandmaster. "The boy?"
Sir Ginx sent Ashviel flying with an incredible amount of wind Rek, making him crash before Grandmaster Tudor's horse. The man anchored a dirty look on him at him as he struggled back to his feet.
'What was that for,' Ashviel thought to himself, fixing an accusatory gaze on the mage who had pushed him suddenly.
"Oh, the apotheosis himself," said Grandmaster Tudor when Ashviel got back to his feet.
'Apotheosis?' Only few people know about his torch of damnation. A string of thoughts flooded his mind. "How did Grandmaster Tudor came to know about it?' 'Is he a Capricorn soldier?'
"How I've always wanted a taste of your power, apotheosis," continued the grandmaster.
Ashviel casted a look at Sir Ginx, and he felt a coldness in his heart as a horrible realization dawned on him. His eyes went wide, but there was nothing he could do. He was thrown in the middle, the main object of attention of eight piercing eyes. He realized with terror that for some reasons, Sir Ginx had sold him to enemy mages. 'For what' he wondered.
'Damn it," he cursed under his breath. He had known that the knight had ill feelings towards him, but he had never expected him to trade him to their very foes. He gnashed his teeth as he thought of what horrible fate the vile grandmaster might have in store for him. "Damn," he cursed again as he thought of Lord Blue Beard's academy. 'What would the Lord and Master Vauxall be doing right now? Probably drinking. 'How about Kael and Kyra? I bet they are dallying right now.'
He looked around him, nervously searching for answers. He had no weapon with him, but his space pouch was brimming with arms. If only he could — no, what was he thinking? Even if he were armed to the teeth, he still would not last a minute against a single one of the men, let alone fight them altogether. With a dogged fight ruled out, his only option was to escape. 'How?' He thought of running, but he was sure the men would run him to the ground should he make any sudden movement.
He nipped his forehead frustratingly, as all his ideas bore no good. If he were to escape, he would at least stay alive first.
Just then, the sound of rapid striking of hard hooves on the ground filled the wasteland. From the direction of the woods comes another man, charging at them like a mad bull. 'Is it Master Vauxall?' 'Kael?' 'Lord Blue Beard?' Ashviel hoped.
The man came close enough, his sword drawn and ready to strike. Instead of charging down the middle, he simply rode around the mages, with his horse pounding its heavy hooves to raise a cloud of dust. His kiss curls flapped this way and that in his sun kissed face as he rode about in fury. He finally brought his stallion to a stop before them, and then pointed a venomous glare at Sir Ginx.
It was not Master Vauxall, not Lord Blue Beard, no, not Kael, not Kyra. It was none other than Sir Matador Helsing.