“Of course. Of course. I’ll be all too happy to help,” Balean said. And as Draysky conjured the flames, he spoke to himself, his voice silenced even to Draysky’s ears.
“But there will always be secrets I will keep from you, boy. Many that even I, myself, no longer know.”
Chapter 47: Lucille
Lucille knelt before the council, her head bowed, her eyes on the dark Tower floor as she awaited judgement. Her hair still smelled of smoke, and river mud coated the underside of her fingernails.
Above her, one of the council members spoke, her voice as hard as the stone that dug into Lucille’s knee.
“In the days preceding the attack, we have determined that the ember’s core flower was planted among the Downeytown fields to form a rise rune. Though it is a natural fire aurel, typically the plant would have little effect; however, due to the sheer size of the rune, combined with the mass of energy stored in the Downeytown defenses, the effects were disastrous. We have yet to determine the method used to tap into Downeytown’s vault of kernels, only that the defenses were, indeed, utilized by the opposition.”
This much Lucille had known. It was why she had rendered the kernel vault underneath Downeytown useless.
“In addition, an arrest performed by Lucille in the hours preceding the event revealed a clue leading to those who planted the flower. In the attack, the prisoner escaped her holding cell, breaking out as the guards fled. Only one thing she left behind, a popped kernel on the cell floor.”
“Standard, if she used one to escape,” said another council member.
“Indeed, except she was searched beforehand. That, and this kernel was carved most intricately to increase its number of flaws. Carved to pop at the smallest possible use of magic. This was a sign, a signature by an opposing force, not a coincidence.
“As an act of war, they harbored a direct attack upon not only our gate city Downeytown, but upon our home, Consuo itself. Typically, such an attack using Heaven One energies would be shut down immediately. But the attackers did not use only Heaven One energy. They opened a portal into Heaven Four through a resonance of fire.”
Lucille cringed. This had been her failure. This had been the loophole that the attackers had exploited to maximize their damage. It had turned a simple crime of evading a Keeper to a full on assault. This was the reason that when the gates of Heaven One opened again, she stepped out not into her old gate within the Tower, but rather into a gaping hole burned through the side wall, traveling over fifty feet until it reached the air. It was why ash crinkled underfoot, and why when she looked out over the city, she was met with smoke and char and destruction. It was why when the Keepers found her face up in the mud, they had carried her back to the Tower while she had slowly regained consciousness, and she had been placed in a cell with a nurse for recovery and questioning.
“Such portals are not uncommon in the heavens,” continued the councilwoman. “On a small scale, they can often occur naturally. On Earth, for instance, a pool with enough water purity may bring down a mermaid from the upper heavens, or a forest glen can draw the attention of a nymph. It is known that with enough of an aurel source, these locations pierce into the heavens and attract those who might comfortably reside in it. But what occurred here was not natural. No, this was the intentional result of a maelstrom of fire with the very purpose of opening a portal into one of the Heaven Four firelakes, home of a variety of nesting lower phoenixes known as firehawks. And the firehawks answered the call from across the breach, bringing with them their passion for burning.”
She had failed to close the door on time, Lucille thought. Had she rushed to the gate, she might have sealed it before the firehawks could escape, but instead she had chosen to protect Downeytown from complete destruction. How many lives had been lost in Consuo for her preservation of a few? Had she traded hundreds for thousands?
“The gate was closed before the firehawks could reach it,” continued the councilwoman, and Lucille jerked her head upwards. “By the commander of the guard. However, only the doors of the gate were shut, not the portal into earth itself. And these doors were not created to withstand level four creature attacks.”
Relief surged through Lucille—the doors had still been shut! That was her command as Lock, her duty, and nothing under her directives stated that she should sever the connection between heavens and Earth entirely. Where she had been slow to react, the soldiers had complied, the soldiers that reported up through her.
“We estimate the doors completely melted in under a minute. This reinforces the notion that this was no mere haphazard attempt at vandalism. The door to Heaven One is reinforced with fire runes and fire aurels. With enough resonance from fire creatures, this allowed for the door to be pried open as the fire runes were overwhelmed. A power surge, rendering the runes useless, and aimed at their very weakness. To reiterate, this was planned, and no accident.”
Lucille braced herself. She knew where this was going. If this had been planned, that meant that there had been a chance to stop it. That she, as Lock of Heaven One, had a chance to discover it, and she had failed. Under her nose they had planted the rune and completed the plan, and her neck was now what would be cut for it. Just as the Lock before her had been.
“These plants only grow naturally on the shores of the firelakes,” said the councilwoman. “They are controlled aurels, with no permissible entry out of their heaven unless documented. After a search of the city for fire aurels, we’ve discovered a store of a hundred of them here in Consuo—not preserves, or clippings, but live and without proper storage procedures. They cannot live this way long and would die quickly.
“One of our own, Lady Falstor, has confirmed that there have been no shipments of ember's core into Consuo in the last few weeks. In addition, she has personally stated that this variety was grown in one of the city gardens. That garden, somewhat suspiciously, burned down in the attack. Its owner perished. The burden of monitoring the passage of such materials is the Keepers' burden, and there is one who we can lay the guilt upon.”
This was it, Lucille knew. And she readied herself, just as the door behind them burst open. She heard a scuffling sound, and turned to see another man being dragged forward with manacles around his wrists.
“Keeper Bernard, of the inner city aurel management,” continued the councilwoman, “you are hereby charged with negligence. The ember's core was to be monitored as a resource of your gardens, and yet you have let it escape your grasp. We have discovered documents of this very flower missing from merchant stores that utilize your garden, due to ineffective guarding.
“I didn’t know,” stated Bernard, though he didn’t struggle. His breathing came calm, and the side of his mouth bulged with enough powder to last him a week, his eyes unfocused. “Do you think I count the flowers every morning?”
“Precisely, you didn’t know,” said the councilwoman, “Which is why you are charged with negligence. Especially after arriving here under the influence. Should we discover that you did know, the consequences will be far more dire. Guards, to the cells to await his trial. Without the drug.”
The door slammed behind them, and Lucille cringed at Bernard shouting at that last stipulation—shouting that she would soon echo when they returned for her.
“Lucille, stand,” commanded the councilwoman, and she rose to her feet so quickly that she nearly stumbled over them.
“Lucille, had you simply closed the gate at Heaven One, a few dozen firehawks would not have entered Consuo. Rather, a thousand would have. By destroying the power source of the kernel vault and interrupting the portal, you demonstrated judgement beyond what is expected of the Lock of Heaven One. You prevented incalculable damage to the city and cleaned up the mess of a Keeper stationed much higher than yourself.
“With Bernard removed, the role of the Locks will be even more important for regulating the kernel and aurel trade. With this comes greater responsibility, and we place that in your hands as well as the hands of a
ll of our Locks.
“We count upon our youth to be our future leaders—Lucille, it is on your shoulders to prove the truth to this statement. We award you now with a new lock, one that marks you as favored.”
From her right, Burden Three approached, bearing shears to snip off the lock around Lucille’s neck. Then another was brought forth and clipped into place as Lucille stood in shock. Just moments ago, she was certain she’d be sentenced.
Now she was being rewarded
“The same as your old lock, but with a token to remember today. Rarely, when a firehawk dies, they leave a piece of themselves behind. A marble of flame, which with proper care can be hatched once the owner reaches the appropriate level of power. In your new lock, I have embedded this token, that one day in your bright future, you might use it. A gift befitting those high above your level.”
From among the council, a slow smile crawled across her mother’s face. But Lucille shifted under the weight of the new lock as she walked back to her own quarters, and her mind floated back to Madrea’s teachings several years before.
Standing on the wall, Madrea jabbed her walking stick at the line of three stones in front of Lucille. Each was painted with an air aurel, the substance appearing like little more than wet paint upon their surface.
“Today, we exercise control,” said Madrea. “Something that seems to have been forgotten in the Tower. Controlling your magic is far more important than simply producing it, and far more difficult. Any blubberbrain can fire off kernels left and right. It takes a true mage to control what they do.”
Above the rocks were a pair of parallel strings, about three feet high and tied taut between two hooks. A cup of water was placed at their center point, balanced on the strands. They vibrated slightly in the breeze, and Madrea gestured to it as she spoke while Lucille sat cross-legged before them.
“This exercise is simple, and yet you shall find it quite difficult. You are to raise each of the rocks to kiss the ropes—but do not dare spill the water.”
“That’s easy,” said Lucille, preparing herself. She’d drawn rise on the rocks already, after two days of studying the rune’s exact shape and variation, where to press down harder and where to wisp away. Her finger muscles now knew the symbol by heart, and she was confident she’d drawn them correctly—or at least, correctly enough for the task before her.
“It’s simple,” said Madrea. “Yet more people tend to struggle with the simple than the complex. With the complex, it is far easier to hide mistakes, while the simple lays them bare.”
Then she fished out three kernels from her pocket and placed each of them in front of a stone, each increasing in energy. Madrea stepped back, pointing to Lucille with her walking stick.
“So simple, so simple. But not so easy. Begin!”
Lucille probed out with her mind to the first kernel, grasping it. This was a level one kernel, its slow pulsing immediately giving away its identity, and she connected it to the rune on the stone. Air started flowing upward, catching the edge of the stone and wobbling it, yet not with enough power to lift it.
“Careful,” said Madrea. “You’re wasting energy. That kernel will pop before the stone has even left the ground.”
Lucille focused, widening the connection from the kernel, and pushing more energy through it. With a short whoosh, air lifted the stone, which bounced against the string and almost toppled the glass.
“Too weak of a kernel, so you overcompensated. A level one kernel is not fit for this task, so you made it so, and in response you lost your control. You must learn to control the edge cases, when the power is too short.”
“That was a trick,” Lucille protested.
“Not a trick, a lesson!” said Madrea. “Now, for the second.”
Again Lucille completed the connection, and this time the energy came willingly, the second heaven kernel rushing forth with a keen interest. The stone rose easily under her command, without so much as a tilt, kissed the rope, and settled back down in silence.
“Ah, now that was wonderful. Control, and excellently maneuvered. And for the third?”
Lucille hesitated for a moment- she’d used third heaven kernels before under Madrea, and only then in secret. Here on the wall, she felt exposed. Handling a second order kernel was a light crime at her rank, but a third order would bring her under reprimand. But under Madrea’s stare, she connected kernel to aurel, and energy burst forth into the rock.
It shot upward, not only toppling the glass but snapping the sting, careening off at an angle as Lucille tried to squeeze the channel shut. But it was too late. The power had already surged out of the kernel, and the rock no longer listened to Lucille’s command. Instead, the air buffeted it left and right, and a small whirlwind formed beneath, twirling the stone above them. Lucille slammed more power into it, trying to combat the swirl and rearrange the air flow, but the vortex only tightened, ejecting the stone far above them as the kernel popped, her channel of energy instantly severing. The vortex dispersed, dropping the stone to the top of the wall, where Madrea slapped it toward Lucille with her walking stick.
“No control, and you see what happens. Imagine if you had a hundred kernels instead of one. What sort of destruction might have occurred?” asked Madrea as Lucille flipped over the rock, examining the rune on it. Even with the extra energy, the magic should not have reacted in that way, and she immediately spotted the issue. Pieces of the aurel rune were burned away by the energy of the kernel.
“Another trick!” Lucille said, pointing at the aurel. “The energy was too much for the rune; it broke it.”
“Then you should have used a better aurel, one that could withstand that power.”
“You gave me that aurel!” Said Lucille, exasperated.
“Yes, yes I did. Again, a lesson, not a trick. But even with that aurel, you could have purified it. An impure aurel even would have worked if the rune were perfect. But it was not, and that impure an aurel is not forgiving.”
Madrea settled beside Lucille, holding the burned out kernel in one hand and the damaged rune in the other.
“Many mages, when they fight, will produce similar results to this. They will overpower their weapons, use kernels too strong for their runes, or try to squeeze too much power from lesser kernels. Tuning the aurel and the kernel produces far better results, though it is not always possible. It is important to understand the limits of the materials at hand, and more important to know what you can do with them given the proper time and effort.”
“Are you saying I should keep redrawing the runes?” sighed Lucille. “I’ve already done that for days, and that’s just that one particular air rune! I’ll have to start all over for the next aurel.”
“You should always do that, with your condition. You must practice until your hand feels ready to fall off,” said Madrea. “But more importantly, you should refine your aurels. Just as you should refine your own skill before trying to advance, or else you’ll end up just like that ruined rune.”
Madrea turned toward the Tower and pointed her cane up at it.
“First level,” she said, then she adjusted her cane a little higher. “Second level. Third. Fourth. And so on. Each for a level of heaven, each with its own gate. Tell me, Lucille, how is it that you earn a new level?”
“You enter into that realm of heaven, which lets you advance,” Lucille said.
“Wrong!” said Mardrea, slamming her walking stick on the ground so sharply that bits of the wood chipped off. “But that is what they would have you believe. If it were so, I should be able to waltz up to Heaven Seven and place its title upon my head. And many of these Keepers do, with no more control over their spells than your third rock. They run about in their fancy robes, yet a properly trained level two mage could stop them in their tracks.”
Madrea started walking back to her cabin, Lucille closely following.
“But you, my girl. You we shall refine. And this is where it begins.”
Madrea knocked her do
or in with her cane, holding it under the latch with practiced precision, and led Lucille in to her kitchen table. Earlier that day, this was where Lucille had prepared the painted rocks. Now the aurel source was still on the table, a chalk-like stick of pressed powder.
“This air aurel was harvested in the foothills of the Kreskian Mountains. Poor conditions to harvest such an aurel—the air there is not clear, and the altitude is too low. It's just barely enough to piece this together. But it is cheap, and it is available from the markets.
“What I teach you now is how to refine this aurel. To take what is common and make it uncommon. Most mages rely on their internal aurels, but those can only complete magics as strong as their own purity. Even then, they do not stray from their aurel type when casting; rather, they simply use more of what they know. This is how you shall be different. You shall not constrain yourself to what you possess, simply because you cannot.
“Now we begin the process. Take this aurel, and crush it.”
Lucille fetched the mortar and pestle that Madrea kept in her spice cupboard, and at her nod placed the aurel inside, working the handle to grind the aurel down. It was simple: air aurels were softer than most, and this one had already been powdered and pressed into a cylinder for market sale, similar to a charcoal rod. When the powder started to puff into the air, she stopped, and Madrea fetched a sheet of waxed parchment that she rolled over the table.
“Now, what we do here is purify,” she said. “You see, a perfect aurel is within this one, but it is laden with impurities. Bits and pieces of what makes air air mixed with that which does not. Perhaps some smoke, or some pollen, or water vapor. To increase the perfection of this aurel, they must be removed.”
“And how do I do that?” Lucille asked, picking up a fine set of tweezers that Madrea had placed upon the table. “Do you expect me to pick them out of the powder? This all looks the same to me.”
Heaven Fall Page 42