The Archon's Apprentice by Neil Breault

armor had been taken, the snow brushed off to either side of where it had lain. He hung his head low. He did not deserve a friend like Bayle. He could not remember the last time they had done anything Bayle had suggested or had wanted to do. Mikol treated Bayle more like a servant than a friend.  
    With a roar, Mikol leapt forward and swung Raythrael upward. It cleaved easily through the arm of a statue on the side of the courtyard. The arm cracked into several pieces as it hit the ground. Mikol continued to slash at the statue until he was tired. He sheathed his sword and took deep, long breaths. For the first time he felt the cold air. He looked at what he had done. In an instant, he had destroyed the work of a man he did not know. The statue could not be repaired. He grabbed his cloak, which was hanging from another statue. He looked at it briefly. The same artist had created this statue as well. At least Mikol had not destroyed the man’s only work.
    He walked the halls aimlessly, taking whichever turn had fewer people. The few people he did see gave him a wide berth. He could not shake what Bayle had said. He did not think fear was controlling him, but he did refuse to believe his brothers were dead. He had never thought how losing his father could have affected Bayle. Mikol and Bayle had always been close friends. Mikol thought back to when they made plans to explore the world one day. They had even planned on entering tournaments together and winning year after year.  
    All of their plans had become moot when Voletain had chosen him to become his successor. While he still had some freedom as apprentice, he felt his path getting narrower the more he walked it. The sudden realization of the world constricting around him brought him to a halt. The loss of his brothers laid a heavy burden on his shoulders. The fate of the world was slowly shifting to him. He almost envied Arceri as heir. The king had always been able to come to the Archon for help. Soon enough, that would be Mikol, and he had no idea what to do.
    Mikol looked at where he had stopped walking and found he had wandered into the Runic Courtyard. He saw that Voletain’s door stood ajar but no light came from within. He found this odd, as Voletain had not returned from the Sanctuary yet. He took a step forward before jumping at the footsteps behind him. He wheeled around with his hand resting on Raythrael. Mikol was pleased he had not been the only one surprised as he watched Omoni drop his books. Omoni quickly smiled at Mikol as he picked up the books he had dropped.
    “What an unexpected surprise, Mikol. What are you doing about?”
    “Clearing my head. What are you doing?”
    “I was returning some books to Voletain, but I see he is still not back.” Omoni indicated the books he had picked up. He turned to leave but stopped. Instead he walked closer to Mikol. “What seems to be bothering you?”
    “Everything that is happening. We haven’t heard from Arceri and Perim for months. And now Turos has gone missing.” Mikol smiled sadly. “I know we may not always have gotten along with each other but he is still my brother.”
    “Walk with me for a bit.” Omoni took on a fatherly tone and wrapped his arm around Mikol. “You are worrying about important things. But ultimately they are out of your control.”
    “But I feel that I can help. I should be doing something. I want to search for them. Maybe I can find them.”
    “Maybe, but what would that accomplish? What if you found Arceri alive and well? Don’t you think there is a good reason for him not to have sent a message by now? Especially since he left after hearing about an invading army.”
    “I suppose. But what if he’s hurt?”
    “What if he is? Can you do anything about it? What if he is surrounded by that army? What can you do? Perim? He set out to pursue an army. What can you do against an army?”
    “Nothing,” Mikol sighed. “I can do nothing.”
    “What do you know about the