Into the Fold

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Into the Fold Page 15

by Chase Blackwood


  Rafe cleared his throat as he looked at them. Muriel turned red in the face as she caught Rafe’s eye. She whispered to Kallon. Kallon glanced once toward the front of the classroom, a sheepish expression painted his face.

  Most eyes had now turned to them. Muriel quickly took a seat. Kallon followed suit, looking studiously at the surface of his desk.

  It was then that Master Zabal Zabel strode in. The short master raised an eyebrow, glancing at Rafe quizzically.

  “They’re all yours master,” Rafe said with a nod and an odd smile, before walking out of the classroom.

  Zabel watched the avauncen student leave before he turned toward the class.

  There was a brief moment of hesitation as he looked from Rafe to the students. His expression grew stern. Zabel took a step forward and studied the students as if assessing the mass of their collective souls, and the depth of their person.

  His eyes finally found Aeden and lingered. Zabel’s expression tightened. His mouth formed a grim line. His eyes grew dark. A cloud passed by, blotting out the light of the sun. The room felt colder as a shadow passed.

  Chapter 23

  “The nature of the universe is a slow march toward balance, one mimicked by few men.” General Tessier - Templas

  Master Zabal Zabel was a short man of indeterminate age. His hair was black with streaks of gray. His build was stocky and hinted at strength. His face was pinched and his forehead creased. His eyes were hard, and presently, were focused on Aeden.

  “I have little tolerance for misconduct,” the master began, “it’s like an infection that spreads. I have no patience for misguided attempts of bravado, especially when such attempts entice others to follow a dangerous path of uncalculated risk. Group think and violence of action can only lead to disaster.”

  The classroom had transformed from a place of unharnessed excitement to a tomb of silence.

  “What happened in Galdor was unfortunate.” Zabel paused as he peered momentarily out the window.

  A passing cloud temporarily blotted the sky and diffused the light.

  “Such events may be viewed through the knowledge of the arkein. It helps inform the why and the how,” Zabel tore his gaze from the window and stepped to the front of the classroom.

  “Everything is connected through unseen strings of vibrating energy. Each action has a reaction. Each movement causes a ripple. For those trained in seeing, the world becomes a lens of rippling waves of entangled movement.”

  Aeden saw Laurent turn to Dan and roll his eyes. Master Zabel didn’t notice and continued, uninterrupted.

  “The tragedy at the University of Galdor was but one thread of a greater mural of events that paint a picture of destruction. Even here, within the Fold, we’ve felt the ripple of that effect. The consequences of the University’s destruction are multiple.”

  Master Zabel rubbed his chin thoughtfully as the crease in his forehead sharpened. He strode to a black slate upon an easel, that resided in a corner. He grabbed a small piece of chalkstone in his hand and wrote the numbers one, two, and three onto the dark surface.

  Zabel turned to face the class. His expression was serious.

  “These are the obvious ramifications of the loss of that great university. One,” Master Zabel tapped the first number on the black slate, “we have more students here than we’ve had in a long, long time,” Zabel gestured to all those present, “Two: this will be the last batch of students for a long, long time.”

  He let his words fade away into the quiet that now shaped the room. He let the implications sink into the adolescent and young adult minds present.

  Aeden felt a tingling sense of understanding, coupled with a rising sense of shame. He looked around and could see somber faces. He shrank into his seat, feeling guilt at the remembered weight of prior events. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to become one of the shadows, lurking in the dark, obscure and unseen.

  “Three: without more students the Tower of the Arkein will fade into obscurity and Verold will suffer.”

  Master Zabel turned to face Aeden. It was as if he could sense the wreath of contrition that strangled him.

  “The University of Galdor taught law, providing guidance on legal matters, it taught the sciences, ensuring that humanity continued to progress toward a common good, it taught history, to remind us of our folly and of our mistakes. Only by knowing how we’ve erred can one properly advise leaders, avoid war, avoid unnecessary death…”

  Master Zabel took a few steps forward until his hands leaned on Aeden’s desk. He no longer looked at Aeden, instead he now gazed about the classroom.

  “The actions of the few, at times, shape the course of history. An individual can be like a stone in a pond, causing ripples that radiate outward, affecting everyone, even those of us secluded within the Fold.”

  His gaze settled onto Aeden like a boulder.

  “This idea of entanglement, of radiating consequence, of shaping the world, is rooted in the principles of the arkein.”

  The master took in a slow breath and stepped away from Aeden’s desk.

  Aeden watched the master walk to the front of the classroom. He waited for his next words, yet struggled to pay attention. His mind had been ensnared by recent history. The loss of the University of Galdor was just one act of violence in a tapestry of destruction.

  Aeden had seen too much death. He’d caused too much bloodshed.

  The inevitable game of ‘what if,’ played out in his mind.

  What if he’d stopped the Inquisitors? What if he’d killed Caine?

  His thoughts transitioned to Thea. He stood in the Gardens of Andir overlooking Skadoian Valley. Thea stood within his strong embrace as she revealed a piece of herself to him. Aeden had responded with silence. She’d had a nightmare about Gemynd, about her father.

  Aeden’s mind traveled back to the pilgrimage, to the cold and snowy night when the Blue City had fallen.

  What if Gavin and Bryce had turned the boat around, to pick up Lord Bristol as Gemynd burned? What if they had crossed the frigid waters of Lake Stevol with Thea’s father?

  He shook his thoughts loose.

  Zabel was speaking. Aeden had hardly heard what he’d said.

  “…volunteers?” the Master asked.

  A few students raised a finger. Aeden remained still. Volunteer for what?

  Master Zabel looked around slowly until his eyes paused on Aeden.

  “You,” he said strongly, “come up.”

  Aeden glanced back to ensure the master had indeed meant him.

  “Fool doesn’t even know when he’s been picked,” Caine whispered.

  Janto chuckled. Thea scowled.

  Aeden stood and purposefully bumped into Caine’s desk as he passed.

  “Watch it,” Caine proclaimed.

  “Sorry,” Aeden said quietly, “I was blinded by your stupidity.”

  Laurent smirked in the back of the classroom as Dan sat quietly.

  “Enough,” Master Zabel stated.

  Caine’s face grew serious. Aeden let his emotions drop away like a forgotten memory.

  Master Zabel took in another calming breath.

  “This is a class of defense. It is a class teaching some basic principles of the arkein. Its nature is elusive, like a star’s light on a cloudy night.”

  Master Zabel took in another breath, “It’s the symmetrical forces of light and dark working in harmony, the positive and negative forming a balance, that can generate near infinite energy.”

  The master grew quiet and concentrated as his eyes looked up to Aeden. He nodded once.

  Aeden glanced about awkwardly. He’d been chosen as a volunteer, but he didn’t know why. He didn’t know for what. He was about to find out.

  “Hit me,” Master Zabel stated.

  Aeden seemed confused. Why would he hit the master?

  Caine was smirking in the front of the class. For some reason that smile slipped under Aeden’s skin. It was like a snake, sinking
in its teeth.

  Aeden looked back and caught sight of Thea and Laurent. They both were trying to motion something to him. Thea mimicked a pushing motion. Laurent was hitting his own hand with a fist.

  All eyes were on him, expectantly. He turned back to the master. Perhaps he was supposed to strike him. But where?

  “I told you he’s soft,” Caine whispered to Janto.

  Aeden felt a flush of embarrassing anger rise through him. He took a step forward and threw a half-hearted punch at Master Zabel’s chest. He was careful not to aim at the center of his body, nor the master’s lower right side. There was a fragile bone just below the sternum that was prone to breaking. On the lower right was the dark organ, which would fracture under strain and cause pain or death.

  The strangest thing happened as his fist approached the master. An eerie sensation enveloped his hand, like he’d submerged it into a bath of thick oil. He then felt a shock of energy and recoiled in surprise.

  Master Zabel stood smiling.

  “And that,” the master announced, “is what we call an arkein shirt. The transmuted energy of the greater universe condensed into a defensive field.”

  Aeden had so many questions. He remembered his own training. As children they would spend a few days a week hitting each other with smooth, wooden sticks. They would roll the wood upon their shins. They would tap it along their joints. The venerable martial arts master had told them it hardened the body against attack.

  Yet, what Master Zabel had done, felt completely different.

  “If I hit like a girl,” Caine whispered again, “Master Zabel wouldn’t feel it either.”

  “If you hit like a girl, it would be an improvement,” Thea whispered angrily.

  Caine flushed red, but otherwise ignored her.

  “Now,” Master Zabel said loudly, “this wasn’t the dramatic demonstration I had hoped for.”

  The master was shaking his head.

  “I had heard you were a warrior of sort,” the master stated, “it seems like you’re more of a dancer.”

  Master Zabel smiled at his own joke. Caine laughed aloud. A few students smiled uncomfortably. Somewhere in the back of the classroom Laurent and Daniel were exchanging bets.

  “Perhaps it would be a better demonstration if you tried a little harder,” Master Zabel said, “like you should have at the University of Galdor,” the last words were hardly a whisper, and meant for Aeden’s ears only.

  A sudden sense of guilt and ire swelled within his chest and stomach. Master Zabel made his preparations as Aeden fumed and stewed in a bog of emotion.

  Master Zabel nodded at him. Aeden launched himself forward, this time with greater effort, but without focused intent. He still didn’t want to hurt the master. He didn’t want to appear weak. He didn’t want to think on the deaths of those in Galdor.

  Once again Aeden’s strike was absorbed by some amorphous energy and repelled. This time it was repelled with greater force and caused Aeden to leap back and yelp in pain.

  Aeden gripped his hand and looked at it. His face turned red in shame. Now there was a chorus of laughter. Laurent shook his head and handed Dan some money.

  “Thane Sagan,” Master Zabel whispered, “I didn’t think so. Definitely not Agathonian.”

  Aeden’s brow wrinkled.

  “Don’t worry master,” Caine said aloud, “we didn’t expect much from him anyway.”

  Caine gave such a casual shrug as to make a cat envious.

  Aeden felt his guilt fall away as his anger took the reins.

  Master Zabel surveyed the classroom.

  “Who wants to see one more attempt?”

  The class was fully focused now. They were nodding earnestly. Several were openly smiling. Adel, however, was not and neither was Thea. Adel’s mouth was grim. He was slowly shaking his head. Thea was lipping something to him, but Aeden barely noticed.

  Aeden blinked away his thoughts. Instead, he let the raw vitriol fill him, like a hot soup.

  How dare the master talk about the Thane? How dare he talk about the deaths of those at the University of Galdor?

  Aeden had tried his best. He had failed. He had vowed to never fail again.

  Master Zabel looked up at Aeden. There was a subtle smirk on his lips. There appeared to be a hint of anger in the master’s eyes that belied the smile.

  “Try again,” he commanded.

  The class grew quiet.

  “Choose your weapon,” Master Zabel said, before taking in another slow breath, and returning to a meditative state.

  The crease in the master’s brow softened. His body looked strong, yet relaxed. Supple yet rigid.

  Aeden drew his Templas sword. There was a gasp somewhere in the background. Thea’s voice pleaded something that faded into nothingness. Aeden didn’t care.

  He swept forward with all the speed and grace one would expect from someone born to the sword. He displayed the full power of the Thane. He watched as his sword passed effortlessly toward the master. A sudden realization of fear tore at him. His anger dissipated like a puff of smoke. There was no defense. There was no sponge-like energy. There was no shock.

  Aeden pulled the blade back, and tip up. A killing blow had instantly been transformed into a grazing slice. Aeden had cut through the master’s shirt and drew a thin line of blood.

  The classroom had become so quiet that the outside wind was the only noise to be heard.

  “Class dismissed!” Master Zabel boomed.

  There was a clamor of movement as students extricated themselves from their desks and rushed for the exit.

  “And you,” Master Zabel yelled to Aeden, “will see Grandmaster Kaldi.”

  Chapter 24

  “It’s the subtle genius who manipulates the world, while a herd of fools believe they’re in control.” The Paradox of Fate – Grandmaster Hyperion

  Aeden slipped into the hallway. It was marked by light and shadow.

  Several students lingered nearby. Most had scattered in the wake of a master having been injured by a student. Adel stood with Thea just around the bend and waved Aeden over.

  “Are you okay?” Thea asked as Aeden approached.

  Dan and Laurent were retreating down the corridor when Laurent stopped and turned around.

  “Is he okay? He just cut master Zabel in half!”

  Thea gave Laurent such a sharp look that he fell back a step.

  “I didn’t cut anybody in half,” Aeden said, although, he knew those words to be false. Images of death invaded his mind and reminded Aeden of his bloodied past.

  “He’s dead?” Adel questioned with sincerity.

  Dan smacked Adel lightly on the shoulder, “Since when has Laurent not exaggerated a little.”

  The horror fell from Adel’s face as he looked from Dan to Laurent. Laurent simply shrugged, as if to say, ‘of course I exaggerate, it’s who I am.’ Adel’s stricken features were replaced with the somber tones of shame.

  Thea ignored their interaction and used the moment to sidle up to Aeden. Her hand gripped his arm lightly, pulling him closer. She leaned in. Her body was a distraction as it pressed into Aeden. Her breath was soft as an afternoon breeze.

  “I’ll go with you, to see the grandmaster.”

  Aeden felt a sense of warmth at her gesture followed by a sense of guilt. What if the Grandmaster blamed them all? What if Kaldi flew into a rage and expelled him and his friends? Aeden couldn’t drag Thea into this.

  “I’ll be fine,” he responded.

  It was a lie.

  “Like hells you will,” Laurent replied, “you’re going to see the grandmaster.”

  The last word was a whisper, as if Laurent feared saying it aloud. Dan was shaking his head slowly. Aeden wasn’t sure if Dan was concerned at the prospect of seeing the headmaster or at Laurent’s excessive reverence.

  “And?” Thea said with her hands on her hips.

  “And,” Dan finished for Laurent, “that can’t be good.”

  Aeden h
ad his answer. Even Dan was worried for Aeden, and terrified of seeing Kaldi. How bad could it be? He glanced over to his friend, Adel, and saw his face filled with worry. There was also a grim determination that fought for control.

  “I’ll go with you,” Adel said, “I’ll be a witness to what happened.”

  Aeden felt a sudden flood of bittersweet. Yet again, Adel was willing to risk himself and his situation to be with Aeden. He was willing to face his fears to support him. How was it, Adel had stayed by Aeden through everything?

  “We’re coming too,” Laurent suddenly said.

  Dan looked at Laurent quizzically.

  “We’ll be witnesses,” Laurent said, “and finally put to rest if he’s getting expelled or not.”

  A smile crept onto Dan’s face.

  “One silver dinar?”

  “Sounds good,” Laurent replied.

  “You’re disgusting,” Thea said, tugging on Aeden’s arm and pulling him down the corridor.

  Thea’s protective grasp and Adel’s kind words had crumbled the walls about Aeden’s heart. It was all he could do to keep from breaking down. What if he were expelled? It was the second time that day the thought had crossed his mind. This time, however, he’d actually injured a master. This time the master had been furious.

  His thoughts were torn from his mind by the sneering words of his nemesis, Caine.

  “Step back everyone,” Caine announced, “a murderer is coming through.”

  There were a handful of students that looked up. Janto and Faro tracked Aeden’s group. Kallon and Muriel stopped staring at each other and looked at Aeden. Even Tilly Steck and Rafe were nearby. It was Rafe’s strange expression that robbed Aeden of a comeback.

  “No response?” Caine inquired, “Better to stay quiet than speak and remove all doubt that you’re the village idiot.”

  Aeden felt his temper flare. His body tensed for action. Sometimes violence felt so much easier than words.

 

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