APOCANGELICA Wild Beasts

Chapter 15

At the Manor, every day, the last lecture of the morning was the one held in the classroom that taught the basics on spells of attack and defence, followed by a practical lesson at the shooting range of the school.

All the guys of the team were staring avidly at the huge dull white wall where some flickering words were shining; they were written in an archaic language, and they were of a golden colour. The enunciation of these words with a particular tone and cadence would have lead to the deformation of the surrounding reality and to the occurrence of physical and chemical events whose occurrence was considered normally impossible. An enchantment or a spell, depending on the language used for the formulation: that of the angels or that of the demons.

On the wall, used as a blackboard, was engraved a script composed of nine words. The letters, which formed the long words, were surmounted by a multitude of diacritical marks that specified exactly how the voice should be set so that the recitation could produce the effect of alteration and modelling of space-time. In the particular spell illustrated, this effect would have consisted in the formation of a pulsing globe of golden light that could subsequently be launched in a particular direction, with devastating results for the target.

"This that we saw in detail yesterday, is the 'Globe of Light', an attack of fast enunciation but low in power," was explaining the instructor pointing to the wall. "Now we will see the 'Globe of Fire'. The enunciation is much longer; however, the power developed is correspondingly much greater."

On the wall the words, composed of long sequences of golden letters, changed slowly. Some letters disappeared to be replaced. Others, especially the final parts of words, faded and re-appeared exactly the same. All the diacritical marks instead changed completely.

"You can notice" said the instructor "how the root of the words remains substantially the same for both spells, being the matrix essentially the same: both are attack spells of the type 'Globes'. The tone of enunciation drops considerably in the third, sixth and ninth term causing a concentration of energy while the lengthening of the words causes on the one hand a longer enunciation and on the other an increase of the power conveyed in the waves enclosed in the sphere of energy."

Jörg moved his lips mentally reading the words.

"Memorize them" ordered the instructor. "You have five minutes, and then we will go to the polygon to try both spells in order to compare methods of execution and effects."

Jörg turned towards Evi who was reading and re-reading the golden words. Then he took a look around: all the pupils were concentrated, staring at the wall and trying to memorize what was written on it. Kurtziel, who was standing one row behind him, was staring blankly at the ground.

"Good." Exclaimed suddenly the instructor. "You've had all the time of the universe to memorize. Now go to the polygon and arrange yourselves in rows of ten. There you will be coordinated by your instructor Galghiel. Let's see what you have learned and how much you are actually capable."

The boys came out neatly from the classroom and after a few hundred meters arrived at the polygon that was located in a wide unpaved area behind the Manor. High barriers marked the area. At the bottom, at about two hundred meters away from where the students had arranged themselves neatly, rose a thick and solid wall of stone on which were painted red circles at various heights. The wall bore the wounds of countless blows suffered during years and years of trainings at the shooting range.

"At my command," ordered the instructor Galghiel, "the first row will throw the globes of light, and then will go and stand behind the fourth row. In turn, the second row will launch the spells and will go and stand at the back and so on until I give the order to move on to the globes of fire."

The young Angels committed themselves in the recitation of the attack spells. Globes of crackling energy swelled in the palms of their young hands; some managed to throw the balls that travelled for several meters before dissipating into thin air, others saw the energy vanish in their hands in colourful clouds.

Jörg was busy reciting the words of the spell with the right tone and the exact cadence when suddenly he was diverted by an exclamation of Dug, followed by a scream of the boy to his right, Xudriel, one of the newly five appointed judges. He was dabbing his head with his hands: various strands of his curly blond hair was burned to the scalp. As soon as he stopped worrying about his hair, he turned to Dug screaming like a madman: "You stupid fat wimp! What the fuck got into you?"

Dug was paralyzed and could not help but stammer an apology in a tone of voice that was not even remotely perceptible. Xudriel, red in the face, continued to rant and started pushing the boy. "What do you have in your head? Only fat and lard? Did you want to kill me? Do you see what you've done?!" With a final push the boy fell to the ground surrounded by the laughter of the other boys, all but Evi that was shocked and upset by that scene, and Tim who stepped in saying: "Xudriel, leave him alone, he didn't do it on purpose, can't you see ?! He's mortified. There is no need to use to anger."

The other three Judges approached Xundirel, Dug and Tim to back up their fellow Judge. Kurtziel stood in his place at the end of the line, lost behind his thoughts.

The four student-Judges surrounded Dug and Tim and began shoving, insulting and ridiculing them. Jörg ran up to Instructor Galghiel who was watching the scene, grinning.

"Instructor Galghiel! What are you doing? Are you not going to intervene? Is this the discipline that is expected from us?"

The muscular instructor stared at him with contempt and angrily hissed: "If you care so much about defending the weak, then do it yourself!" And gave him a rough shove that sent him tumbling to the ground.

Jörg remained astounded by the gesture of the instructor. After all he was meant to impersonate the authorities and instead stood motionless enjoying the unexpected show. Jörg got up and walked resolutely to help his friends. He grabbed by the shoulders the first judge that came to hand and removed him with a push, knocking him to the ground.

"Stop! You have crossed the line!"

"And what do you want?"

"Are you a friend of these two?"

"Exactly," said Jörg resolute. "Calm down. It was an accident, and in the end no one got hurt and no one will if you stop this nonsense now!"

"How dare you talk like that to the judges?" screamed Xudriel in his face.

"All students should respect and obey the Judges as a direct emanation of the auth ..."

"Yea and bla bla bla" interrupted Jörg. "We all know the old story!"

"Nasty piece of ..."

"Respect needs to be earned" said Jörg, "And these abuses certainly don't ..."

"That's enough," said the instructor Galghiel peremptorily. "This story has gone on long enough and we must leave the polygon for the Crimson team that will soon be here. So sort it out amongst yourselves in the dormitories." Now go!"

The four judges looked grimly at Jörg.

"We will make you pay for this, you will see" threatened Xudriel.

Jörg took a deep breath. "I am not afraid," he replied through clenched teeth, but in his heart he trembled because he didn't feel as protected as he had imagined. He realized that at the Manor there was no real authority to who one could appeal to... except maybe the Chancellor himself, he thought.

He promised himself to ask to be received by Trinkiel as soon as possible to expose directly to him what had happened at the shooting range and to ask for measures to be taken.