While the King Ramzee with his Queen Vanca were gazing over their domain, the back part of the castle saw no traces of that pastoral peace. The soldiers of King’s UC Elite, covered completely in black mail, had sealed off the whole section of Alchemy and Science quarters, shoving off and turning away anyone who tried to enter.

In the Great Hall, all hundred and fifty Head Masters were brought in and told to take seats around the long oak dining table.

“The King has asked for you all to be here,” was the only explanation given to them. “So, wait patiently.”

“Where is the King? We’ve been already here for the last half an hour. Someone better explain to us, and do so now!” complained a proud man in his mid-fifties, cleanly shaved with sharp, gleaming eyes and a nervous ticking fingers. “We gave him such a grand gift. He could honor us by not wasting our precious time here. He could honor us by not being late,”

“Grand Master Gortix,” said the Commander Randor who suddenly entered the hall followed by two of his sergeants. “The King is never late. He’ll be here when he pleases and not a minute too late.”

At that time, the tolling of bells started to reach them, and Commander Randor waved his hand. The doors were suddenly locked, and even before the cross-archers appeared in the galleries, Head Masters knew something was wrong.

But it was too late. The swords were already drawn, and crossbows, filled with Lyda energy, shoot their deadly orange light bolts, piercing headmasters' unprotected bodies and vaporizing them in the process.

Some wanted to make the run for it, but there was nowhere to go, and soldiers just pushed them away from the exits till one of the lighting bolts found their marks. Soon the air was filled with the cloud of grayish dust, thick and stinking, everything that remained of the smartest the realm could pull together. Not even a drop of blood was spilled.

Grand Master Gortix was the first one to die, having enough time just to stand up, the frowning expression on his face as if telling himself that he should have known this was to come.

“Go from a quarter to quarter, kill all their assistants, helpers, servers. Everyone! Cooks and maids. Nobody leaves here alive! Not even a kitchen mouse!” Commander Randor barked his orders. “Use the crossbows! because if you have to draw the blood, you will have to clean it afterward!!”

Three floors upstairs, Grand Master’s first assistant Raynord Matiz was nursing his hurt ego while finishing on a letter to his family. He tried not to let his family know exactly how he was feeling, giving them the only good news and positive vibes.

They should not know how he should have been made a head master more than a year ago, how had been passed over for no reason know to him. And now, every time that there was some celebration honoring them, he felt the sting and disappointment gnaw deep into him.

The noise of commotion reached him, but he dismissed it, not really ready to listen to other people's celebration. Then the loud door knocking and alerted voices.

He reluctantly opened his heavy wooden door to see soldiers going in the quarters three doors down. He slid the door open a bit more. The whole corridor was filled with them, entering rooms, and then screams.

Something was wrong. He instinctively tried to shut his own door. But a huge man in black was already there, pushing the door open, and ducking down to get inside. Raynord Matiz moved back, especially after seeing the drawn sword pointing to his face.

He should run, he knew. But his legs would not listen, and he watched helplessly as the second man get into the room, raise his crossbow, the activated shaft already glowing red and pointing at his forehead.

All he could do is squint his eyes and hold his breath, thinking if this was the moment he was to die, what would happen with his family with the money he was sending them their main source of income. A moment later he had a metal scraping and banging, then something rolled on the floor. He opened his eyes to see the severed head rolling toward his feet, the headless torso of a man still holding the crossbow standing there, still upright, before finally silently falling down.

The giant man had a problem of his own. He dropped his sword and was trying to feel with his trembling hands the blade that suddenly had come out of his mouth, together with the spraying stream of blood.

The second he dropped to his knees, he revealed the third figure standing behind him, another black-armored man, who with one sharp kick in the head with his foot had sent the man face down while retaining the bloodied dagger in his hand.

The man turned around to close and lock the door, and only then walked toward Raynord.

“I, I, I….” Raynord felt he had a chance to talk as the man walked toward him. There was a second there. But what to say to save your own life? Was there anything? He could think of nothing. “You do not want me. I’m nobody,” he said in the end.

The man sheathed back his longsword and dagger, ignoring the giant on the floor still making guggling noise.

“You have, you have a wrong person,” Raynord tried to say.

But the man ignored him, and took out a small black staff, then pressed it against Raynords neck and gave it a twitch. The Lyda energy flew through the staff, and the staff instantly decoded his standing, displaying it clearly in the aired screen above. It said:

The subject name is Raynord Matiz

The title is The First Assistant to Grand Master

Years Since Birth are 22

Key Attributes

The intelligence Level is 104

The wisdom Level is 44

Other information about the subject

Full Attributes

Subject's History

“No, I think I’ve got the right person,” the man said, putting the lighted staff away. “Relax. You’re supposed to be smart. If I wanted you dead, you think you’d be still breathing now?”

“What…” Raynord wanted to know what the man wanted. But he got the answer before he asked the question.

“You have a secret passage from here to your master’s private chamber. Take me there fast.”

Raynord's first step was as if he was back being a baby, taking his first step ever, trembling and slow. But he soon moved faster when he heard the right encouragement. “If we do this right and fast, I may still be able to save your life. If not, we are both dead.”

He scurried fast to the far wall and the bookshelves there, took out a few books from the top shelf then pulled the lever, moving the whole section off and opening the door through.

“My Master will…”

“Your Master is dead. As are all Head Masters,” the man answered pushing him to climb stairs that spiraled up. “And if we don’t do this fast…”

“I know. I’ll be dead too.”

“And I as well,” the man answer.

Raynord turned around to look better at the man, only then noticing the man had placed a headless torso of a man over his shoulder and was carrying it with him, together with a severed head in his left hand.

“I’m assuming you want me to access my master’s safe…”

“You’re smart.”

“Does this… have anything to do with the Code project?”

“It has everything to do with it.”

“The project whole code was supposed to be all given to the Queen. You understand it was all done in parts.”

“I know. But I understand he kept a crucial part of it in there. A backup.”

“I do not know. He never told me.”

They came to the Master’s study, behind the tapestry.

“Go and lock the door. The soldiers will be here soon,” the man said as he threw the dead body to the floor.

Raynord did as was asked. Then moved to the big oil portrayed painting of the Grand Master and took it off the wall. He stared at the five holes in the white plastered wall.

If all the Grand Masters were dead, it could have only meant that the King had decided to kill them all together with everyone else here. So, his life has become worthless now. The only thing left was to do what the man asked and hoped to have lived for a bit longer.

Give me time, and I’ll find a way. I just need time.

He stuck his finger in those five holes in an exact sequence for the sudden wood plank on the floor next to his foot to pop open. He took it out and opened the safe in the floor. With a big scoop of his hands, he took out all the papers and leather patches he found there, putting them on a table.

“If the code is anywhere, it would be in here,” he said, opening up one leather patch and revealing a foot-long staff with an engraving of the Master’s seal.

“We don’t have time to see if it’s there,” the man said, the banging on the door becoming louder.

“They’ll break in here any moment. Close that safe and put this on.”

Raynord took his eyes off the staff and looked at the armor that his savior had taken off the dead man.

“It may be a bit too big, but should fit you better than the other man’s. Put it on now!”

Raynord succeeded in putting everything on except the armed gloves when the stranger lifted him up and took him back to the secret passageway, mere seconds before the door was broken open.

“Walk behind me and don’t speak to anyone,” the stranger gave him the last instructions before they moved back to his room, then to the corridors.

For a second when they found themselves alone on the stairs going down, the stranger swiftly turned around, a dagger in his hand and slid a deep cut on the palm of Raynor’s hand. It was done so fast that Raynord did not even have time to scream.

“Shhh!” the stranger said as he hugged him tightly.

He grabbed him and placed him over his shoulders, the blood from the palm of Raynord hand sipping around.

“We have a wounded soldier here,” he answered as a sergeant suddenly appeared to block his progress toward the exit doors.

“How-”

“The damn cook!”

“Get him out of here before he makes a mess here!” the Sergeant screamed at him.

The stranger hustled them out of the Great Hall and scurried toward the horses tied nearby. "Have a wounded, bleeding soldier, here!” infirmary at the horses' guards, wrestling the leash of one of them free.

“Sergeant's orders. Have to take him to the infirmary right now!”

He did not wait for approval but threw Raynord over the horse and jumped in a saddle, then galloped down the cobblestone street.

“Wounded coming through!” he yelled at the guards blocking the nearby street and ran through them before they could protest. Another corner and they made it out of the Alchemist’s part of the castle.

“We can go through the Back gate,” Raynord offered after noticing the man driving the horse around toward the main castle.

“No, that gate will be blocked. We need to go through the town.”

“But that will take us right next to the Castle.”

“I know,” the man answered and nudged the horse to go into the gallop again.

That seemed to have been the right move as nobody had stopped them from exiting the Castle and going through the town, and leaving it all behind in a matter of minutes. Raynord was not aware but the man knew, no regular soldier would ever dare to stand up and question the black-mailed men of King’s Elite.

It was an hour later when they stopped their madden gallop, having arrived in the green hills of the nearby forest. Carefully the stranger let the horse off the main trail deeper into the forest.

“Sorry for the cut, but it was necessary,” the stranger said as they finally stopped, far away from the road and the eyes of possible travelers.

The stranger took the scar out of his armor and bandaged his hand.

“Did you take my Master’s work?” Raynord suddenly asked.

The man hit his chest plate where he obviously had some storage space. “It’s all there.”

“Well, it seems you saved my life and I do not even know your name.”

“That does not matter. We have to continue on. We need to take our armor off here. Take them off fast and let’s threw them in the bushes there.”

As the man finally took his helmet off, Raynord was surprised to see someone who did not look like a soldier at all. His face was well-rounded, and as more armor came off, he realized his savior was way overweight to be a soldier. Maybe a butcher or a cook. But his green eyes showed intelligence as did his deep facial lines, and Raynord left it at that.

They moved through the forest on a horse, riding it carefully for an hour till they finally came to the river’s edge.

“Where do we go now?” Raynord asked, looking at a quarter of a mile of water in front of him.

The stranger saddled off the horse and let it go, then took out a mirror from his pocket and let the light bounce off it a few times.

To Raynord’s surprise, a small boat up the river suddenly had put up its sail and started to approach them swiftly.

“Do you know how to swim?” the strange asked him.

“I… do, but would prefer not to get wet.”

The stranger chuckled, took Raynord by the waist, and threw him into the river, jumping in behind him.

“Next time, you just let me do it on my own,” Raynord screamed as his head made out of the water.

The small fishing boat did not stop for them but threw them a rope as it was passing by. The stranger swiftly took the rope and wrapped it around Raynord’s waist, then held it tight in his hand. “Just in case,” he told Raynord.

Two men on the boat reeled them in rather fast, and a few moments later, Raynord was sitting on the boat with the stranger showing him his back, interested in seeing if the water made through the sealed leader bag he held over his shoulder.

Raynord used that chance to take the foot-long staff out of his jacket and direct it toward the stranger.

“Don’t point your scanner on me,” the stranger said immediately. “You will not find anything. I am not registered,” he said and lowered the collar of his shirt to show the back of his neck without any marks.

“You’re an outsider?”

“Yes.”

“How…”

“It does not matter. What matters is what we do next. Because I did not save your life for nothing.”

“Why, why did you do it?”

“Go and change. The back room there should have some dry clothes. Then come down, and we’ll talk.”

When a minute later Raynord stepped to the crew’s quarter below deck that reeked of fish to high heavens, he saw the stranger examining the content of his Master’s safe, spread over an old wooden table.

“You know, this is just a part of the Code. It’s not all there.”

“Probably a key part. The part he wanted to keep for himself. To hold on to power.”

“Yes. But… it’s rather useless without other parts. And I could not duplicate the whole code, what has been done… Not even in… hundred years.”

“I know. I know what you can do, and can't. You worked as an Architect. First class. You were supposed to be the Master a year ago. Your bad luck at a time that the Grand Master was jealous of you, did not like the idea of you breaking his record of becoming the youngest Head Master in history. Served you good in the end, don’t you think?”

“How do you know all of this?”

“It’s my business to know. Now, you will work as the password maker. Are you as good at it as they say you are?”

“I was the… best in the whole kingdome. Among other things.”

“Well, then, this is what I want from you. I want you to hide the code. And lock it. So hard that it becomes next to impossible for anyone to open it. No, stretch that. Make it Arthurian, more difficult than Arthurian.”

“I do not know what that means.”

“It does not matter. Just make it very, very difficult to get to the code. Hide it the best you can. It would be sad if the code gets lost forever, such a waste. But worst still would be for wrong people, unworthy ones, to have it. Do you understand?"

“Of course I do. Could not agree more.”

"Do you think you can do that? Because the future of all life might depend on it.”

“I am fully aware of that.”

“You better then do it right and do it now. Because the soldiers might find us sooner than you think.”

“But I need a portal.”

“I have one in the quarter behind those doors. However, it was our backup. The main one we lost… and I don't care to talk about how that happened now. So, the portal you have at your disposal only has enough energy to work for an hour. Meaning, better know what you want to do before you start it.”

“Oh, that’s good to know. I can… raise the ranking… Later I can refine the ranking growth. How long do you think we have?”

“They will count all the dead. They will know something happened. They will test the code. At first, it will look all fine. But in a day or two, there will be imperfections. So, the Queen will piece it all together. And then look for us. And eventually find us.”

“Yes, with the code she has, she can build the trackers. There are too many things of mine left behind. It won’t be that difficult.”

"We will run and be constantly on the move. But..."

"I know. Glad you are not trying to lie to me."

The man nodded his head. “It's something that is inevitable.. They will find us. But I’ll destroy the code before they take it from my dead hands.”

"That's a quest worth dying for. Until that time comes, can you at least tell me what I should call you?"

"My name is Brian Thompson. But my friends just call me Big B. I guess you can call me that."

“Well, Big B. Thank you for saving my life. And, now, let me think. Let me think, and then, maybe, just maybe, I can find a way, and maybe nobody will need to die.”

“Oh, wrong. A lot of people need to die. Let’s just hope before it’s our turn to give them all what they deserve.”