Thoma held a pensive expression for a few seconds, but quickly dismissed any ideas that came to mind.“You don’t happen to know what that might be, do you?” Thoma asked. “I do, actually.” Bernar began. “But, due to certain circumstances, I’m not allowed to talk about anything coming from the Master that he doesn’t clearly state himself,” Bernar spat. “I'd rather like a challenge,” said Thoma cheerfully. “I'd love to show him the new spell I've been working on. If I'm able to do it under pressure, with the off chance that he doesn't know some variation of it already, I think he'll be pleasantly surprised.”
Bernar shrugged. “Perhaps. Nevertheless, we should go back to the dorm to get a change of clothes before he kicks both of our arses. You know how he is when it comes to being late for the evening debriefing,” he said. Thoma replied with a nod, and placed his new horse in an empty stall, patting its neck as he closed the gate. A fine horse if ever I’ve seen one, he thought as he returned to his brother’s side.
A half an hour and a change of clothes later, they arrived at the mess hall. A long wooden house, with well-thatched roofing where two massive pillars supported the front of the roof above the main entrance, both engraved with tales of past synners and their heroic actions. They walked under the tall doorway, and were relieved at the sight of the feast before them.
Normally, the food they would eat during the majority of their days at Codrean tasted little better than watered down nasal mucus, which held all of the necessary nutritional value they needed. The feast that awaited them was certainly a surprise to be remembered for the next few months. On the tables, there were slaughtered pigs with apples in their mouths, deer and lamb haunches. There was more than enough vodka and ale to go around, and the synners – both seniors and juniors alike – were just going in for their second round when the two brothers walked in.
Many of the synners acknowledged their presence, as Bernar was one of the few there who had been recognized by the Master at the age of 18, and Thoma had hoped to match it. Their daily training often consisted of various different types of exercises - sword and spell drills were modified to fit each synner's own style, while still honing the core basics. Some preferred more flashy styles, whereas others would take preference to the more conservative movement types. Bernar was one of the few who had mastered over four styles of blade-and-spell-work, leading him to be recognized as a prodigy by the Master.
Although they would spend hours each day, training, polishing and perfecting their techniques for their preferred weapon systems, they would also have to face the rigorous physical conditioning part of it all. League long runs in minimal amounts of time, lifting and tossing tree trunks, and endless weapon swing repetitions - to name a few. This all had to be done in full gear, so that there wouldn't be a difference in performance when the time to do battle came. In turn, it made them formidable warriors that were nearly unmatched in their physical capabilities.
Usually, there was no such feast waiting for them at the end of a long training day. The habitual gruel they would eat sufficed to supply their bodies. However, today was a day unlike the rest. Thoma and Bernar’s eyes glistened at the sight of the feast before them. They walked towards the long hearth running down the center of the barracks, which heated the general area to a fair temperature, and chose some empty seats their comrades had saved for them.
“Ah!” the Master, who now stood at the far end of the hearth, exclaimed. His voice rang out across the mess hall like a tidal wave of sound. Everyone’s hearts skipped a beat, and sat still with eyes peeled. He was not a man any of them would have liked to have annoyed or anything of the sort. Rumor had it that he had killed a Synner a long time ago for insubordination in the mess hall. At other times, he was known to beat future Synners for being even a single minute late.
No one had seen him come into the hall.
“I’m glad to see you're all enjoying yourselves, and you aren’t wrong to do so,” he said in a voice much warmer than most were used to. His audience was quiet and attentive, holding their breath as the white haired, glowing-eyed master spoke. “I believe everyone present heard the sound of a single thunderbolt strike near our home this afternoon. I thought the thunder god would have brought more with him, given the amount of rainfall we’ve had today,” his piercing gaze fell upon the two brothers. Oh, fuck! We’ve been had, Thoma thought.
Surprisingly, the Master didn't dally on the subject, but a thin-lipped grin managed to escape the corner of his mouth, wrinkling the scar on his cheek. He waved his hand, and decided it was better to move on to what was most important. “I digress. I expect you all know that at the end of every day, we have our debriefing for the following day. Now, I know that many of you have more than obviously noticed that something is very different from any other day up until now.” Here it comes, the brothers thought, glancing at each other.
“We're having this lovely feast for one reason: tomorrow we're going on an expedition,” he said, and watched carefully as some of the younger synners shifted in their seats. “I expect all of you to be looking sharp as ever at first light. We're going south-west towards Coltend Castle to take part in a war council we have received an invitation from King Truls himself to attend. As things currently stand, I will be the only representative of our section present at the meeting. If any of you have any questions, now would be the best and only time to ask them, otherwise keep your shit to yourselves,” the Master said.
A few of the young ones grew uneasy – some with a certain anxiousness to go on their first expedition. Others were uneasy out of pure fear. The fear of knowing what they may encounter on the road there made even some of the seniors shake in their hardened leather boots.
Thoma abruptly raised his hand, and in the same instant, the Master raised an eyebrow. “Yes? What is it, young Thoma?” he asked. “I've never been to Coltend, Master, and I was just wondering what sort of beasts or monsters we may encounter on our way there,” Thoma said with a slight tremble in his voice. The Master immediately sensed the boy was as nervous as a whore in church. “I've only ever been there a few times myself, and I still don't know every monster or beast that lies on the path towards it.” the Master said in a nicer tone than he normally carried. “The one thing I can tell you, however, is that if we do encounter any threats along the way, you'll need all the skills you've learned until now,” he said with an air of caution.
“So, you’re suggesting that the likelihood of us engaging one or more creatures is more than probable, Master?” Thoma asked the moment the last word left the Master's mouth. The Master looked at the young boy who reminded him of himself at that age – eager to get into a battle and show his prowess as a synner, and chuckled lightly. “In case any of you forgot, the creatures we have long since trained to deal with are rarely ever alone. I wouldn't count on there not being in a skirmish at some point along the way,” he said. “In any case, be prepared and remember your training. You'll do well enough from what I’ve heard, Thoma,” he said and everyone in the room sat in awe.
The Master had not - in recent years - given a compliment to any of the other juniors, and they instantly felt jealousy stirring in their hearts. “Thank you, Master. I'll be sure to keep my wits about me,” Thoma said with more excitement than he had originally intended. “I know you will,” the Master said calmly, and sent a small chill down everyone's spine. Thoma, for one, almost froze solid.
“What do you think he meant by that?” Thoma quietly asked his older brother after they had left the mess hall. They were headed back to the dorm that was in the main fortress of Codrean. “Fucked if I know,” Bernar shrugged. “The Master's been awfully odd these days and I'm not too keen on finding out what’s been eating him. Besides, it's not like he'd let us figure it out anyway, right? I mean, the bastard's creepy as hell, smart as can be, and meaner than my friend's ex-wife when she's on those days of the month,” Bernar said with a short chuckle. Thoma smiled, and felt a little calmer as the last comment was aimed to cheer him up and remove the chill that rolled up and down his spine.
“Ah, screw it,” Bernar said. “At least we'll get to truly see what you're made of if we do face any creatures along the way,” he said excitedly. “I'm sure that if you can prove yourself to the Master, then you'll soar up the ranks,” Bernar said with confidence. I sure hope so, Thoma thought. “Well, we should get some sleep, little brother. Got a long day tomorrow, and not enough sleep or women to keep us company through the night,” Bernar said briefly. Thom “I have to review the spell I've created. It's best to keep it fresh in mind at all times,” Thoma said.
“Very well, then,” Bernar replied as they reached the entrance to the large, stone fortress - pushing the wooden door open. “Just don't stay up too late, you mischievous little turd,” he said, scuffing up his younger brother’s hair. “Alright, alright! I won’t!” Thoma replied with a smile from ear to ear. His brother looked down and raised an eyebrow, as though expecting something more. “Okay, I promise I won't,” Thoma said in a murmur. “Better not,” Bernar said. “Otherwise, I'll make you drink a bowl of goat's piss,” he said, pointing his finger at his younger sibling. “Rest well, brother. Tomorrow's a big day… for both of us,” he continued.
Bernar patted him on the shoulder, and turned down one of the stone hallways that lead towards his own quarters. Thoma proceeded down the opposing hallway, and reached one of the rooms where he found the others in a drunken sleep on their beds. He removed his clothes, and got into his sleeping attire, then quietly tucked himself under the covers and lay awake. He stared into the darkness above him, and wondered what sort of things he might encounter the next day.
As his imagination ran freely, he pictured himself in the middle of a flat, grassy meadow at twilight to review his new spell - calculating how powerful it might be, and how much mana he would need to cast it. He knew of the dangers of casting an untested spell in battle, as they were frequently addressed. He hoped that whatever happened the next day that he wouldn’t have to use it on the path to Coltend Castle. Whether he would have to or not, the answer to that would only come the next day.
When, at first light, he'd depart on his very first expedition.
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