Reaper Academy: Book One

Chapter Twelve: PLEASE REVIEW

CHAPTER TWELVE

Why do I always find myself in these bloody situations?

The moment the door opened, Articus threw the table like a spear. The legs snapped off as it sailed through the doorframe. The first man to appear, a black haired Darkling, caught the tabletop full on. Articus heard the Darkling cry out as he was thrown back a good five spans into the waiting room.

Articus sensed movement to his right and immediately jumped back a step. Everything around him slowed as he Accelerated.

The movement he had sensed was another Darkling--a Caprian man who had Accelerated to outflank him. To the Darkling’s surprise, Articus wasn’t where he had been moments before, causing the descending sword to miss him by inches.

The Caprian, having stopped his Acceleration, turned his head slowly toward Articus. Balling his hands into a fist, Articus lashed out.

The moment his fist connected with Darkling’s stomach, he felt time resume to normal. Shocked eyes met his right before he grabbed the Darkling’s throat and lifted him up off his feet, slamming him into the floor with a loud crash.

A third assailant, a Ghourdian woman, jumped out from the waiting room as Articus stripped the dagger from the unconscious Caprian. To his shock, he found that it was a Reaper’s da’kka.

Seeing her fallen comrade, she reached out with her left hand and threads of spirit started to mix with the air’s energy.

Cursing, Articus charged slightly off to the right while simultaneously pulling his left shoulder back, narrowing his attackable surface. The act saved his shoulder from the threads of energy by a finger’s breadth. Halfway to her, he feigned the charge and side stepped to the right. He was just in time to feel the Acceleration taking over him again. The woman pulled her sword up at his charge but stopped in confusion when he suddenly disappeared.

He was at the wall in moments and, reversing his grip on the da’kka, he used it to propel himself to her right flank. Her eyes slowly turned toward his direction, but it was too late. She cried out wordlessly as the da’kka penetrated her collar bone, piercing her heart.

As her body dropped to a kneeling position, Articus grimly tore her sword away from her death grip. He was only half surprised that the sword was a sa’dka.

The Darklings must have killed three Reapers to get here. The thought only firmed his resolve. Grabbing a handful of her hair, he used the sa’dka. He slit her throat.

“No!”

It was the first Darkling he had knocked back. In a heat of rage, the Ghourdian Darkling charged him. Articus pulled the da’kka from the female Darkling’s shoulder and, using the sa’dka, met the charge. As he blocked the Darkling’s attacks, he watched the sa’dka seamlessly grow and shrink as if his need to change it was all it required.

No spirit is needed to use this? Articus was shocked.

He had been so preoccupied by the torrent of attacks and his new weapon that he hadn’t realized that the Caprian had come too. Suddenly, Articus found himself defending against two opponents.

“You bastard!” The Ghourdian one said as he violently brought his sa’dka around at Articus's head. Ducking, he kicked him just as the sword passed over his head.

Articus caught a glimpse of green spirit gathering around his foot before it connected with the Darkling’s stomach. The Ghourdian Darkling cried out in pain as he was launched through the door for the second time. Unlike the first time, however, he flew across the waiting room and into the next room where the Blood were supposed to be.

I did that? With one Darkling still left, Articus told himself he didn’t have time to ponder over something so trivial. He turned to face the Caprian.

What happened next was nothing he could have expected. He cried out in pain as a knife sliced into his shoulder blade. Articus looked behind him and his eyes grew wide in shock. The Ghourdian woman who was supposed to have been in hell had stabbed him with her da’kka. He went to one knee and almost toppled over.

What the hell…

When he turned back to face the Caprian, the Darkling’s sinister eyes met his. His sword was already raised and was making its way down to Articus’s head.

Using the only option he could see, he charged into him. Thankfully, right when he did, he Accelerated. The Darkling’s elbows knocked harmlessly against his back, preventing the sword from going any further. They both toppled over toward the ground, and Articus was able to run the Darkling through with his sa’dka before they hit the floor. All too human eyes stared back at him in horror.

Articus coldly drove his da’kka through the Darkling’s chin and into his brain. Leaving the da’kka in the Darkling, Articus slowly got up and turned to the half dead Darkling woman. Reaching back, he pulled her da’kka out of his shoulder.

“You pissed off the wrong Ce’lian, Darkling,” he said coldly.

Her eyes widened in terror as he slowly advanced. She tried to cry out, but her throat was only halfway healed and her cries came out in frothy gurgles. When he reached her, he drove the da’kka into her stomach, pinning her into the floor. Stomach wounds were the worst, and, having her healing ability, it would only be an ongoing torture for her. Articus wanted at least one Darkling alive to question when it was all over.

“Don’t--think--I’m--done--with--you--yet--Novice!” The Darkling from across the room uttered each word with pure hatred.

Articus could feel the Darkling Accelerate toward him. Without thought, he rushed his opponent. He felt the familiar slowness take over his surroundings and, like magic, the Darkling appeared in front of him--a few spans across the room already.

The black haired Darkling gave a blood curdling roar just before Articus slammed into him. He had caught the Darkling by the shoulders and, in the blink of an eye, they were sailing back the way the Darkling had come. In the short span that they were airborne, he watched in wonder at his green glowing hands before slamming into something.

It took Articus a moment to get his bearings. Dust filled the air and the Ghourdian Darkling was in front of him, unmoving. Shaking his head, he tried to rid the ringing in his ears.

Why couldn’t he just have stayed down like a good dog? Articus thought to himself.

He tried to sit back up on his hunches, and almost succeeded, until he overbalanced and fell on his back. Staring up at the ceiling, it dawned on him; they were outside in the hall. He wanted to laugh.

We must have flown a good twenty spans! He knew it was a silly thought, but he couldn’t make himself think on what he had just done.

“Articus?!”

Tallen’s head came into view. Articus really was comfortable.

“What the hell are you doing? I thought I felt a demo--who in the bloody hell is that?”

“Probably the Darkling you felt. If not, there are two others inside. Take your pick.” Articus laughed.

Tallen’s eyes widened when he looked back up at the Reaper and Articus read the word ‘Darkling’ from his mouth.

A pounding of feet on stone reached their ears and moments later he heard General Briar say, “Find the Lady! Articus? Articus! What in seven hells happened?”

Slowly, Articus sat up on his elbows as twelve Bloods ran past him. The Ghourdian was slumped against the wall; his shoulders looked as if they had been crushed by two large boulders.

What have I done? He had long since gotten over the morals of killing a person, but…

The events leading up to his present state--with a Darkling's crushed corpse nearby, no less--flipped though his mind like the pages of a book. He shuddered when he recalled the Darkling woman’s corpse coming back to life.

“By the seven Sins!” One of the Blood exclaimed from inside.

“Lady Tyrn! Lady Tyrn! Where are you?!”

“She is safe,” Articus breathed, stopping Briar from entering.

“What happened?” He demanded, turning away from the disorder inside.

Tallen looked from one man to the other; his face visibly paled.

He has an army, and he is acting like a nugget after his first battle? Ha!

“Articus, what happened?” The general repeated impatiently.

The cold calculating mind of a soldier kicked in. “Darklings, three of them. They must have killed a few Reapers and borrowed their weapons cause they all had da’kka’s and sa’dka’s. Came in through the front door. Heard them come in and had Mia take the Lady to the farthest room. She should be safe. Killed one, disabled another and, well, this one looks dead or near to it.”

Briar’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure they were Darklings?”

Articus nodded. “Go see for yourself. I pinned one of them to the floor with a da’kka. Her stomach is still trying to heal itself over the knife. As for that one,” he pointed with his chin to the Ghourdian, "he Accelerated at me before becoming wall art. The third one, well, he almost out flanked me in the beginning with Acceleration as well.”

Tallen gaped at him. “Accelerate?”

Briar arched an eyebrow at Tallen, but the Reaper waved his hand as he came to his senses. “Never mind that. I want to see if that Darkling is still alive. We haven’t caught one in centuries.”

Lady Tyrn came out with Mia at her side just when Tallen was about to enter. Both looked sickened.

There was a lot of blood in there, Articus thought grimly.

He was surprised he had survived, and he wasn’t the only one.

“Master!” Mia leaped and hugged him, catching him off guard. He grunted when her hands brushed over his wound and she instantly recoiled.

“You are hurt!”

“Only a scratch,” he assured her. Already he could feel the warm tingling sensation of his skin and muscle stitching back together.

“What happened?” This time it was the Head Mistress. Articus had been too exhausted to notice her entrance.

Tallen bowed immediately. “Head Mistress. Three Darklings just tried to attack Lady Tyrn. They were unsuccessful, though, and I think we caught one. The bastards posed as Reapers--excuse my language, Mistress.”

Articus wanted to roll his eyes.

A minute ago, the man was as helpless as that Ghourdian Darkling. Now he is all ‘we’s’ like he was the one who had stopped three Darklings. I ought to…

“Darklings?” The Head Mistress gasped.

Lady Tyrn, who had quickly composed herself, bowed her head slightly to Articus, “Thank you.”

“I live to serve,” he said simply.

“Pin her hands down! Don’t let her kill herself, you idiots!”

Articus looked over his shoulder where all the commotion was coming from. Already four Reapers were trying to enter the guard room. Not that he had time to look, he saw Ce’lian bodies slumped against the wall. Articus sent a silent prayer to the Gods for all the guards who had suffocated to death by an enemy they couldn’t see. Energy.

From where he stood, he could see the lifeless eyes of the Legate he had just spoken to mere moments ago. Feeling his chest tighten, he knuckled his forehead as a mix of anger and sadness washed over him.

That was close, Articus.

The Head Mistress picked up the sa’dka Articus had used and examined it. Shaking her head sadly, she turned to a slave he hadn’t noticed before.

“Inform Nicolas of what has happened and have him search for three bodies. After, when he has the time, tell him to come find me. This is getting out of hand.”

Turning to Tyrn, she bowed her head low. “I have let harm come to an honored guest. Please forgive me.”

“What is done is done,” Tyrn said coldly. “While I won’t hold you responsible for the lives lost here, I do expect better security arrangements. This won’t happen again.”

She is not happy at all.

The Head Mistress stiffened at the heiress’s tone before giving her the smallest of curtsies. “I will make it so. I just hope our nations won’t be affected by this unfortunate incident.”

When Tyrn didn’t say anything, the Head Mistress turned to Articus. He flinched slightly at her gaze.

She had just been lectured by a woman who wasn’t even a tenth of her age.

“Three Darklings?” Slowly her eyes settled to a cool blue. “I don’t know many Reapers who could have done that. I’ll recommend to Celia that she graduates you to Devotee immediately. Tallen, see to Lady Tyrn until you are relieved.”

She turned on her heels before Articus could say thank you.

“Let me look at that wound, Master,” Mia half demanded, pulling his attention from the Head Mistress. Obediently, he knelt to one knee so she could have a look at it.

“You see? Just a scratch,” Articus said when she didn’t say anything.

“There is nothing here,” she replied with a frown.

He rolled his shoulder and made a ‘huh’ sound. He hadn’t expected to be healed so quickly, but the tingling sensation had stopped.

At least I won’t have to be in a medical bed anytime soon. Speaking of, I’m not fumbling around anymore.

Tyrn eyed the fleeting figure of the Head Mistress before turning to Articus. “Think on what we talked about. Tallen? Find me another room that doesn’t have so much blood. Let’s go, Briar, I’ve had a long day and tonight isn’t getting any younger.”

Briar sighed heavily before following his Lady.

More Reapers appeared, and it soon became clear that he wasn’t needed anymore.

“Lets go home, Mia.”

As they walked back to their quarters, Articus became aware of too many inconsistencies.

He called me Novice, not Reaper. They know the difference? No… Like a bad dream, the first Darkling he had ever killed came back to his mind.

“Till we meet on the other side, Reaper."

Two different people? One recognized my single stripe and the other… I didn’t even have my uniform on. But is it relevant? Could it just be that the first one was dumb?

And then Articus recalled the Ghourdian who had feelings for that Caprian Darkling.

How much different are they from us? Or was this recent attack… Articus stopped in the hallway. Mia looked back at him curiously but his thoughts were elsewhere.

...done by real Reapers? We talked of Tekal as the stray dog…then we get attacked minutes later. It couldn’t be, could it? By the Gods.

“What’s wrong?”

Articus smiled at her reassuringly before continuing their walk. “Nothing.”

Find the motive and you find the killer, he thought.

If only determination was enough to clear his conscience. That night, the dead Legate’s eyes would haunt him in his dreams.