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CHAPTER 8
The knot in Falcon’s stomach grew with each baby step he took.
A castle that consisted entirely of blue, polished stones loomed before him. At both ends of the castle a single tower rose into the sky. A long winding brick path stretched from the entrance gates to the castle doors; countless pine trees decorated the horizon; a crystalline lake, filled with small lily pads, sparkled under the morning sun; and lush green vines crept up the castle walls. Some even extended as far as the castle roof.
He made his way into the main entrance, passing by other first year students who sat on stone benches. Most of them appeared even more perplexed by the castle than he. Their eyes sparkled and their mouths hung open.
He crossed the white marble floor. Dozens of statues of ancient warriors breathed life into the large room. The painting of a large man standing on a battlefield with his chin held high caught his eye. The person in the painting looked strangely familiar. He searched for a description. That’s when he noticed a golden plaque directly under the painting. It read:
The Grand General victorious
at the Battle of Red Sand.
Falcon’s jaw dropped. It was K’ran! Except in this painting he appeared to be much younger, perhaps in his mid-twenties. He silently wondered how a man who served for over thirty years as Grand General could be dismissed so easily.
A sharp sound suddenly interrupted his thoughts. He looked up at the dozens of flights of stairs that led to various sections of the castle. A tall, skinny man in a black robe made his way down. His thunderous footsteps drowned out the students’ conversations.
The man reached the last step and scanned the grand hall. Now that he was closer, Falcon had a much better view of him, and it wasn’t a pretty sight. The man’s cheekbones popped out through his white skin. His raven-black hair pocked up out in a messy heap. He resembled an incarnation of death more than any man Falcon had ever seen.
Regardless of his looks, the man commanded attention. All the students froze under his gaze. Few students dared to utter a word. The ones who did, spoke in hushed whispers.
“It’s the snake,” muttered one of the older students under his breath.
Snake?
“Lizten up!” hissed the man as soon as he reached the bottom step. “All ztudent’s are to report to the dining hall at once.” Now Falcon understood. The man dragged every “s” letter a second too long, which caused many of his words to sound like a hiss.
A trembling student, no bigger than four feet tall, slammed into the man. The boy’s books scattered to the floor. “Sorry. Could you please help me with my books?”
The man shot a look of disbelief at the boy.
The kid staggered back into a wall, all the color gone from his face.
“What iz your name?” asked the man, pointing a long finger at the student.
“Chonsey Meloth, um—sir.”
YOU ARE READING
Element Wielder
Fantasy"His mother's screams remained etched in his mind. He promised himself that night he would never again stand by as people he cared for suffered, and he would one day kill Volcseck. He intended to keep those promises." Falcon Hyatt has a problem. For...
