Wildheart chronicles

Chapter 8: Old friends

"Ah, there it is," Master Yuki said, gazing at a city nestled in a valley. A river sliced through its center, like a silver thread through green fabric.

From a distance, the city was a haze of mist and activity, but there was something within it—perhaps an estate or a monastery. Bjorn couldn't quite tell.

"Master, is this the Storm Veil Order?" asked Bjorn, his voice filled with doubt. The city seemed too small to house a force capable of challenging the Church.

Yuki burst into laughter, his voice booming through the quiet valley. Bjorn was taken aback; he'd never heard his master laugh like that before.

"No, Bjorn, this city belongs to an old friend of mine," Yuki replied, a smirk spreading across his face. "He owns the monastery at its heart. I need to discuss a few matters with him."

He turned to Bjorn, his eyes serious. "When we get there, you'll call me Master Stormshadow, and you’ve been my apprentice for two years"

"Is that your title?" Bjorn asked, knowing it suited Yuki's skill with lightning and shadows.

"Yes," Yuki replied with a nod.

With a wave of his hands, Master Yuki cast a spell that washed over Bjorn like a ripple through water. When it settled, Bjorn's dark hair had turned golden blonde, and his body grew bulkier, muscles filling out his clothes. A rough stubble appeared on his chin, like he'd skipped shaving for a few days. He looked like a man in his twenties, rugged and ready for trouble.

"Now, let's move." He gestured toward the winding path leading down into the valley, urging Bjorn to follow.

Thirty minutes later, they strolled through the bustling streets of the city. A wide river sliced through the urban landscape, dividing it into two halves connected by arched stone bridges. The streets were alive with activity; vendors crowded the walkways, offering everything from trinkets to fresh produce. The air was fragrant with the scent of grilled fish, sizzling on makeshift barbecues scattered throughout the city.

They reached the monastery. Its ancient stone walls towered over the city, and its massive gates seemed to have been there for centuries. Two guards stood at the entrance, their stance relaxed but watchful. As Yuki and Bjorn approached, the guards straightened, ready to confront them.

"Halt, identify yourselves," one of the guards commanded, his voice polite yet firm.

"Please tell Waterfox that his old friend Stormshadow is here to see him," Yuki replied, flashing a friendly smile.

The guard's eyes widened in surprise. Stormshadow? Only someone with considerable power would dare to speak so casually about the grandmaster. He glanced at his colleague, who darted into the monastery. Moments later, a man emerged from the gate, his stride purposeful yet relaxed. It was Waterfox, and he broke into a broad grin when he saw Yuki.

"It really is you, Stormshadow," he said, laughing as he embraced his old friend.

"It's been centuries, Waterfox. I see your little monastery isn't so little anymore," Yuki replied with a chuckle.

As they walked through the monastery grounds, Waterfox shared the story of its growth. "Word got out about the monastery, and before I knew it, I had more students than I could handle. Then a city sprang up around us," he said, beaming with pride.

Bjorn marveled at the monastery's sprawling compound. Hundreds of smaller buildings surrounded a few larger ones at the center. Everywhere he looked, initiates and novices practiced their weapon arts or honed their magic skills. It was a far cry from his village, where he rarely ventured more than a few days' journey.

"Who's the kid with you, Stormshadow?" Waterfox asked, nodding toward Bjorn.

"That's my disciple, wildheart" Yuki replied.

Waterfox laughed. "Finally taking on a disciple like a proper mage, huh? It really has been too long. Let's catch up."

They arrived at the grandmaster's quarters, the grandest building in the monastery. The halls were wide, adorned with tapestries woven into the walls, depicting scenes of mages practicing water magic. The space felt both ancient and vibrant.

Waterfox led them into a large, comfortably furnished room designed for entertaining guests. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, and a massive wooden table stood at the center, its surface polished to a glossy sheen.

"So, what's this about a disciple?" Waterfox asked, raising an eyebrow. "You always swore you'd never take one."

Yuki's expression grew serious. "He has a forbidden source. A strong one."

Waterfox's eyes widened in alarm before he quickly masked his concern. Bjorn, on the other hand, felt his stomach drop. Why was his master revealing something so dangerous about him?

“We are his guests, and if he's going to accommodate us, he needs to know the implications," Stormshadow explained to Bjorn. The young man listened intently, understanding that their stay at the monastery wasn't just a casual visit; it came with responsibilities and risks, especially given the secrets they carried. Waterfox needed to be fully aware of what his hospitality might entail.

"Come here, kid," Waterfox said, motioning for wildheart to approach.

Bjorn glanced at Yuki, who gave him a subtle nod. He stepped forward, his movements stiff with anxiety. Waterfox examined him closely, his sharp gaze tracing over Bjorn's features. After a moment, he sighed, a heavy sound that carried a hint of worry.

"This could be a problem," he said, rubbing his temples. "He's tapping into a violent source. I can't even tell what it is, but it's definitely dangerous."

Yuki nodded in agreement. "I've advised him not to use it yet, at least until he gains better control."

"Smart move," Waterfox replied. He then gestured toward the door, signaling that Bjorn could leave. "You can go join the other novices for training," he said, summoning a subordinate with a wave of his hand.

As Bjorn turned to leave, Waterfox added, " take him to the elite class." The subordinate nodded and led Bjorn out of the room, while Waterfox and Yuki continued their discussion.

"I'm Adept Arthur," he said, extending his hand to Bjorn with a friendly grin.

"Wildheart" Bjorn replied, gripping Arthur's forearm in a firm handshake.

"So, are the Elite class the strongest? " Bjorn asked, eager to dive into his magical training. He'd pushed aside his concerns about Waterfox discovering his forbidden source—he couldn't change that, so he might as well focus on getting stronger and test himself against other mages.

Arthur led him out of Waterfox's building and toward the training grounds. The path was bustling with novices and apprentices practicing their skills.

"Hold your horses, kid. We'll get to that," Arthur chuckled, amused by Bjorn's enthusiasm.

"But first, what level of mage are you?" Arthur wanted to assess Bjorn's experience to tailor the training accordingly.

"I am a novice, and I've only been training for 2 years," Bjorn replied, repeating the answer Stormshadow had drilled into him.

Arthur nodded, seemingly satisfied, and they started toward the area where the novices trained. As they walked, the sounds of magical practice and physical combat grew louder—bursts of energy, the clang of metal, and the focused chatter of students honing their skills. The path was dotted with other trainees, some older and some younger than Bjorn, all immersed in their own learning. This was where he needed to be, among others who were just beginning their journey.