I'm sorry guys, I planned to post this sooner but crashed... Anyways I worked really hard on this and I hope you enjoy!
Chapter One
Throwing dignity to the wind, Lukas Bondevick raced into the courtroom, startling the occupants as they gasped uneasily at the intrusion. The Mage of Clubs allowed himself precious seconds to catch his breath before jogging the last couple feet to the base of the king's throne. The King of Clubs, Ivan Braginsky, frowned as he caught sight of the blood irregularly splattered on the Mage's clothing and skin.
Earlier in the morning, Ivan had sent Lukas and his battalion to a small town on the outskirts of his domain, resting on the border between Spades and Clubs. His agents had caught wind of Spadian mischief, and worried for the security of the town Ivan allowed the Mage and some troops to travel to the border and keep the peace. He had foreseen a small skirmish with few casualties but was unprepared for the severe and harried attitude Lukas was bearing.
Now thoroughly composed, Lukas cleared his throat in order to attract the attention of the King. Ivan shook his head to clear his troubled thoughts and drew his gaze to the man who stood before him. "Sir, we've been overrun. The town was ambushed in the middle of the night and we were outnumbered by far. I'm afraid the town has been captured." The king's brow creased and he opened his mouth to reply, but was cut of as the Mage continued in his report. "That's not all. The soldiers from Spades weren't alone… men from Diamonds were present as well."
The entire room broke into panicked whispering as Lukas relayed the horrific news to the King and his court. The Mage searched Ivan's face for any sign of emotion other than his expression of deep thought. Finding nothing, he then surveyed the room with disinterest, faces filled with panic and horror were something he saw everyday. Lukas' face morphed into one of the upmost disgust. If the court were becoming this frantic over mere words then what would happen if the Mage took them out onto a battlefield? The thought of the pompous snobs attempting to wield a sword made him smirk, lifting his mood just the tiniest fraction.
Lukas was promptly jolted out of his thoughts as King Ivan slammed his hand on the arm of his chair, silencing the hysterical courtroom. "This meeting is adjourned. Leave this room, I need to speak to my Mage in private." The court filed out as their conversations turned from the captured town to the delicious assortment of foods waiting for them downstairs. Lukas turned his nose upward in abhorrence toward's the court's mindset. He grabbed one of the vacant chairs and dragged it towards the King, groaning as his sore body made contact with the sturdy wood. He waited patiently as Ivan walked over to the numerous bookshelves and delicately selected a book from the upmost shelf. He then returned to his throne, carefully turning the yellowing pages until he reached the middle of the book. Lukas watched as the King pulled a molded and compact scroll from inside the book. His weary features gave way to shock as he noted the scrolls appearance and the small date etched on the back.
With wide eyes, Lukas scanned the date, looking for an error in the writing. If he wasn't mistaken, that scroll was written 1,000 years ago. He glanced up, violet meeting violet, hoping that this was something deriving from the King's twisted sense of humor. Regrettably, Ivan's eyes were hard as stone, jaw set like a steel trap. "Lukas, what you have told me about the loss of the town is grave news but I'm afraid its downfall is part of something bigger. Normally I would send you back with more troops… but this is a fight we cannot win."
Lukas' gaze slowly drew upward as he took in what King Ivan was saying. No chance to win? How? It was a small town, not an entire kingdom… taking back the town should be easy! With the proper amount of troops Lukas could—
"I have been suspecting this for a while, but now that it has been confirmed as the war in the prophecy…"
Lukas' mind flew to a screeching halt. Prophecy?! It wasn't unheard of for kingdoms to receive minor prophecies but for one as serious as a war 1,000 years in the making?! That kind of severity was unheard of, even for a magic wielder such as himself.
King Ivan sighed wearily as he began to unravel the crumbling parchment with the air of a soldier who has seen enough death for 20 men. The Mage watched anxiously as Ivan paused in his unrolling, narrowing his eyes as the King gradually held the scroll out to him. Lukas hesitantly took it, cradling it carefully as Ivan began talking. "I've read this thing more times than I can count. Besides, this concerns you more than I." The Mage glanced up to study the King's face before deftly unrolling the parchment at the wave of the King's hand. He smoothed out the paper, careful to avoid any small tears and began to read aloud.
1,000 years from when this prophecy is dealt,
Wrath and ruin all around will be felt
Brought to its knees, surroundings full of despair
The kingdom on the brink, far past the point of repair
Children orphaned, families parted
Losses grew worse since the Tri-Kingdom War started
A savior must be found from the kingdom of Spades
With blond hair and blue eyes, able to wield a blade
No wealth or inheritance does this man own
He lives in a rural area, far away from the throne
Finding this man will be trying and hard
For he has no idea he is a Clubs card
He can lead the kingdom to victory if only he is found
If no one can find him, it's Clubs destiny to burn down
This is the fate of clubs during the three suit fight
Unless the great king realizes his developing plight
For Clubs has always been the strongest race
Not for long if it goes any longer without an Ace
Lukas scanned the delicate parchment twice more before letting out a quiet laugh. The King, started and frowned, displeased that one dared laugh at such a dire time. "With all due respect sir, but is this a joke? We already have an Ace, Berwald. You appointed him seven years ago."
Berwald Oxenstierna, Ace of Clubs, had served his kingdom proudly for several years. He completed his job with the upmost dignity, commanding the Clubs army with pride. The job of an Ace was to direct and lead troops into battle and be a useful advisor to the King in terms of military tactics, which Berwald executed flawlessly. In the court's eyes, there was no one better suited for the job.
King Ivan sighed and raked a hand through his silvery hair. "Berwald is not the real Ace. He is a place holder, just doing his job until the actual Ace is found. If the actual Ace is found."
"How do you know?" Lukas challenged. He understood the King's claim, but could he prove it?
"Before his coronation, I made it very clear to him that he wasn't the real Ace. I chose Berwald for his military prowess, not by the mark as it should be. Have you ever asked to see Berwald's tattoo?"
Lukas' vigor died as he came across the realization that Ivan was right. Each member of the deck came with a tattoo, one that showed your position in Clubs. Now that he thought about it, the Mage had never seen even a smidgen of ink on Berwald's skin, much less hear about him talk about a tattoo. He heaved a resigned sigh and nodded his head grudgingly.
That matter aside, why was King Ivan telling him about this? Mulling over the words in his head, Lukas voiced his question and began to examine his nails, patiently waited for an answer.
"Well who else is capable of finding the Ace?" Lukas promptly dropped his hand and stared at the King.
"I have responsibilities to complete!"
"Already taken care of."
"What about my duties as a Mage?!"
"Clubs can survive without you for a couple months."
"But the soldiers are counting on me—"
Lukas froze mid-sentence as Ivan held up his hand for silence. The King composed himself, clearing his throat and once again combing a hand through his hair in an exasperated gesture. "Frankly Lukas, you don't have a choice. You're going to find the Ace and that's final."
The Mage barely refrained from snarling, opting to push down his anger before he said or did something rash. Instead of shouting, he began to compile a mental list of the necessities he would need to bring. He would need to gather provisions, weaponry, some kind of cloak to hide his face considering Spades is an enemy kingdom, and other essentials before he could even think about leaving. Speaking of which… "When should I leave?"
The King's response was immediate, signifying the importance of the journey ahead. "As soon as you possible can. Start packing now and head out right after." Lukas nodded and stood up, walking briskly to the door. He stuck out his am, wrenching the heavy door open and strode out. "Oh, and Lukas?" The Mage paused, one hand still on the door handle as he turned to face the King.
"Don't get caught."
Lukas jolted as his horse stumbled on the uneven terrain for the umpteenth time since he had departed. Spades territory was vastly different from Clubs, filled with forests and hills instead of a great expanse of frozen tundra. It had been some time since the Mage had crossed the border and nothing even remotely interesting had occurred. It was almost too silent, as if the trees were holding their breaths, waiting for something bad to happen.
After an hour or so, Lukas glimpsed a cluster of lights out of the corner of his eye. He immediately directed his horse towards the light, mentally assuming he had happened across a town. Nearing the object of his distraction, the Mage allowed himself a short moment of smug satisfaction as the telltale sounds of a village invaded his ears. Eager to rest after an exhausting day of riding, he urged his horse on, only allowing it to slow when he was within ten feet of the town entrance.
Lukas yanked on the reins of his horse, stopping short of the gates that loomed above him ominously. After a few short seconds three men emerged from behind the gate, pacing forward until they were directly in front of the Mage. Lukas dismounted, glad to see at least one of the men was shorter than he was.
"Evening, stranger. What business brings ya to this fine town o' mine?" The shorter man spoke with false politeness, mistrust radiating off of him in waves. Lukas discreetly tugged the hood over his face in order to further veil his features.
"My name is Nickolas Eriksen. All I want is a warm bed and food." The Mage cringed internally as the short man's leer grew into a malicious grin.
"Well Nickolas, care to take off ya hood? So we know ya ain't concealing dangerous weapon, o' course."
Lukas shifted, eyeing the taller men that flanked the one he was conversing with. "That shouldn't be necessary." Instantaneously the taller men, now obviously revealed as guards, strode forward and each grabbed one of Lukas' arms before he had any time to react. The short man sneered and sauntered forward, stretching a hand towards the Mage's cloak.
"Oh, I think it will be." Before Lukas could utter a spell or curse, the man unclasped his hood, revealing the numerous Club weapons and travel supplies that lined his belt. His garb and the Clubs trademark light colored hair were in plain sight, causing the Mage to grumble in annoyance. The man's malevolent features morphed into one of shock and horror. "Y-Y-You—" The man had only just begun his sentence before Lukas interrupted by smashing his knee into the man's nose. He howled, writhing on the ground while the Mage prompt jumped into action.
Lukas wasn't stupid, if he used magic then the whole mission was compromised. No one could no he was one of the treasured mages of the Club kingdom, let alone the most powerful and influential. While the guards were still frozen, the Mage lifted his leg and kicked the guard on the left in the gut, sending him sprawling on the ground gasping for air. He then used his newly freed limb to grab the other guard and twist his own arm until he heard the harsh pop of dislocating bones. The guard screamed, collapsing onto his knees and cradled his limp and bleeding arm.
The Mage vaulted onto his horse, using his easily earned time to escape into the forrest. He firmly pushed the heels of his feet further into his horse's flank, urging it to run faster. Loyal as it was, Lukas had pushed the horse to it limits, and after thirty minutes of muscle-cramping galloping it slowed to a halt, heaving in great gulps of air as its entire body shuddered in exhaustion.
Lukas dismounted, patting the horse gently as a gesture of gratitude. He took hold of the reins and began to lead the weary horse through the forrest, allowing it to stop by a trickling stream to drink. They continued on, stumbling over tree roots and branches underfoot. At last Lukas emerged from the woods, stopping to stroke his horse and survey his surroundings.
They appeared to be in a field, not fifty feet from a small farmhouse. The Mage studied the exterior, deeming it safe to be near. The house was illuminated, signifying that there was someone present in the household. Since he was positive news of his arrival hadn't spread this far, the Mage sucked in a deep breath and strode up to the porch and knocked firmly on the door. After a minute of silence, Lukas was ready to leave the house alone but before he could turn away, the sound of a door latch could be heard. The Mage stared blankly as the door swung inward, giving way to a towering blond man.
Unaware of the man surveying his small Spadian home, Mathias paced across the living room floor, biting his nails and clenching his fists in a nervous tick. He thought back to the cause of his angst, thirty minutes prior to his restless pacing.
"Listen up Kohler! I will be back tomorrow and if you don't have my money…" The thug cracked his knuckles menacingly and shoved the fumbling Dane to the floor. "If you don't have my money, you're paying with your life." With a final scowl, the man spun around and stomped out the door, only pausing to signal his two lackeys of their departure.
Mathias pushed himself of the worn and dirtied floor with a sigh, already aware of his hopeless situation. Garrett, the man he owed money to, had purposely decided to come back tomorrow, knowing full well that Mathias wouldn't have the money. There was no use running either, Garrett had friends across all the kingdoms that were all willing to cary out his bidding. Whether he enjoyed picking on the poor or just flat out killing people, Mathias would never know nor care to find out.
A loud pounding shook the Dane out of his troublesome thoughts and he whipped around with a start. Mathias knew of no one who would visit him at this hour in the night, unless Garrett had gotten impatient and wanted to finish the job early. He agitatedly ran a hand through his hair and stared at the door, trying to decide whether to answer the knocking or not.
Eventually curiosity out-weighed precaution, and before he could regret his decision, Mathias placed his hand on the handle and wrenched it backward. The door swung open and Mathias found himself face to face with startlingly violet eyes.
I really hope this wasn't too bad. I'm begging you, please review. Without reviews I lose motivation and inspiration to continue! I'm being serious about that, it wasn't just a plea.