Into the Fold

by Chase Blackwood

  It was the last thing Aeden heard as he approached Thea. His heart was beating heavily. He felt strangely nervous. His palms had become sweaty for some reason.

  “Good morning,” Rafe said glibly, extending a hand to Aeden.

  Aeden grasped Rafe’s hand, shaking it firmly, to the point where he could just feel the bones begin to fold in Rafe’s hand. It seemed anger was getting the upper hand.

  “That’s a wet grip,” Rafe said, with only the merest hint of displeasure, as he wiped his hand on his shirt after the encounter.

  Aeden didn’t like the way Rafe said the word ‘wet,’ but was already distracted by Thea’s glare as she turned in her seat. The worst part was she looked good. Her hair was clearly brushed and fell partly upon one shoulder, and the faint smell of plumeria and spice enticed his nose.

  “I’m sorry,” Aeden began, apologizing to Thea, hoping it would be that simple.

  “For what?” she questioned, pretending to be clueless.

  “For last night,” Aeden replied, knowing full well that he was attempting to shed some of his guilt.

  Thea ignored him and turned to Rafe, “Now that we’re in the bijenna class, we’re allowed to have interactions with the other students,” Thea stated, “Isn’t that great?”

  “Great,” Aeden mumbled under his breath.

  “Rafe is in avauncen,” Thea continued, “he says that bijenna was easy, except for the unique test to advance to medius, he said the Sages could be difficult if they see something they don’t like, and that Master Zabal Zabel was strict.”

  Aeden was nodding his head slightly in an effort to appear interested, but he was anything but. What was Thea doing with Rafe? Was this a test? Was he supposed to show her that he was jealous? Why couldn’t she just tell him she was upset and allow him to apologize and be done with it?

  “The sages rarely leave their temple,” Rafe offered easily. “But, with the travel restriction, I wouldn’t worry on testing anytime soon.”

  Aeden didn’t care. Something about Rafe’s smile rubbed him the wrong way. Perhaps it was his easy, confident manner. Or maybe it was his familiarity with Thea. Or was it the way that Rafe seemed to subtly size up Aeden?

  Whatever it was, Aeden wasn’t having it.

  “How do you know each other?” Aeden asked, trying hard to mimic Rafe’s casual tone, and failing miserably.

  “No offense,” Rafe said, “but this is a private breakfast.”

  Aeden looked from Rafe to Thea. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. He only stared at her for a moment. His face flushed red, he then turned on a heel and left.

  Chapter 27

  “Festivals are a window into the past.” Canton of Sawol

  The Tower of the Arkein cast a shadow over the village of Andir. It enveloped the plaza at the steps of the great monolith. It loomed over Seraph Hall and its arching colonnade. It reached past the hidden stairways and cozy taverns. It touched upon the encircling village wall.

  For Aeden, it felt like the shadow had pierced his heart and cast him in a state of misery. His thoughts pounded away at his head. They were incessant, making him miserable. He desperately hoped that friendship would be the cure for broken responsibility and pervasive guilt.

  A cool breeze carried with it the sights and sounds of Andir.

  There was still a hint of mist that hung about the village. It clung to the rooftops and partially hid the spires. It trapped the smells of baked goods, the hustle of decorations being strung, and the scraping sounds of pangolin scales rubbing against each other.

  It wasn’t the colorful streamers, strung across the plaza with bright flags, that caught Aeden’s attention. Nor was it the growing pyramids of hard bread, diligently stacked into ever growing mountains. It was the series of cages under the undulating archways and below the stained-glass windows of Seraph Hall that most caught his eye.

  In the cages were small, scale-covered animals with pointed heads and stubby back legs. Some were rolling about, their overlapping scales scraping and pinching, their digging claws occasionally catching on the cage itself. The sight drew Aeden in like a harpy to the sounds of movement.

  “Harmon told me they’re harder and harder to find. Apparently, every Bellas Day so many are captured and killed,” Laurent offered, casually touching the head of a small statue, as he watched Aeden gravitate toward the pangolins. “Supposedly they’re quite tasty.”

  For some reason that failed to distract Aeden from his anguish.

  “Where’s Adel,” Aeden asked, as if waking from a walking dream.

  “Guess,” Dan said, pointing toward one of the growing pyramids of baked sweet bread.

  For a moment Aeden forgot about Thea and was forced to smile. Aeden walked over and placed a rough hand on Adel’s shoulder. He could see the glint of temptation in his adopted brother’s eyes.

  “Not yet brother,” he whispered, “Plus, I doubt that even you could eat your way through that.”

  Adel smiled, “I could try,” he said as he allowed Aeden to lead him away.

  Aeden brought Adel back to Laurent and Dan.

  “Get lost?” Laurent teased.

  Adel shrugged, “No, just following my heart.”

  “Speaking of which,” Laurent replied, turning his attention to Aeden. “Whatever happened with you and your father?”

  Aeden felt a sense of indignation and confusion envelop him. Why was Laurent asking about the kovor? It wasn’t right to talk on the dead.

  Dan noticed Aeden’s expression, “Laurent’s been referring to Master Glass as your father.”

  “Why?” Adel chimed in. “Is it because of the way Master Glass looks at Aeden?”

  Laurent was openly smiling, but didn’t say a word. Dan answered for Laurent.

  “Laurent thinks they look alike.”

  Aeden felt the anger fade as he realized Laurent hadn’t been talking about his village, or his people. Instead, new questions arose.

  “They don’t look alike,” Adel replied.

  “See,” Dan said, “I told you, you’re the only one who thinks so.”

  “No,” Laurent stated defensively, “Harmon does too.”

  Aeden watched the exchange with amusement, before looking across the plaza toward the pathway to Bellas Tower. He was secretly hoping to see Thea. Instead, he saw Caine and Janto. Aeden looked away before Caine caught sight of him. He wasn’t in the mood.

  “So,” Laurent asked again, “What happened after your interaction with Master Glass?”

  Aeden studied Laurent’s wide set eyes and overweight features for a moment. At times, Aeden felt Laurent was almost comical to look at.

  “Master Glass offered to tutor me privately,” Aeden said.

  At first, Aeden hadn’t wanted to say anything, but he realized private lessons with Master Glass would be a good cover for any private lessons he took with Master Xuban. Grandmaster Kaldi and Master Xuban had both expressly stated that his new tutelage was to be kept a secret.

  “What?” Dan said with exasperation. “You attack one teacher with your voice and cut another, and your punishment is private lessons?”

  Aeden merely shrugged. He rather enjoyed the attention. It helped him focus on other things aside from his flailing relationship with Thea.

  “Does that mean you’ll be even busier for kayles night?” Adel asked with a hint of disappointment in his voice.

  “Probably,” Aeden replied, hating to disappoint his friend, “but I’ll still see you on days off, like this one.”

  This seemed to placate Adel.

  “Where’re we going anyway,” Aeden asked Laurent and Dan, redirecting the conversation.

  “Harmon said the best views for the ceremonies are from the temple tower,” Laurent responded, pointing to the nearby temple.

  “Then to the temple tower it is…” Aeden replied, eager to finish the day and return to bed.

  Secretly he hoped he could sleep away his guilt.

  “They don’t have any tight, winding
stairs, do they?” Adel asked, masking his fear as best as he could.

  “Plenty of stairs,” Dan said.

  “Terrifying, but worth the view,” Laurent finished for him.

  Adel smiled nervously as his face blanched, but he let himself be led away.

  Aeden watched them for a moment, before following. He could worry about his failing relationship later. Now, he was with friends.

  Today was Bellas Day after all.

  It was a day where the townspeople competed by climbing mountains of sweet bread, grabbing as many as they could, without falling, before reaching the top. It was a day where people sang and danced. It was a day where they raced and slaughtered pangolins. It was a bittersweet day, in which Aeden attempted to seek distraction from his personal angst.

  Chapter 28

  “Peril is nothing more than a glint in the eye of the brave or the stupid.” Book of Muses – Library of Galdor

  The following days failed to bring resolution to Aeden and Thea. Instead, their relationship simmered in a pot of unresolved emotion and hidden fear. It festered and limped along, fueled by desire and need, haunted by the echoes of remorse and misunderstood love.

  It didn’t help that Aeden spent vast chunks of time in the library. It was in the solitude of its secret spaces that he’d devour books with the hunger of a starving draccus weasel. His studies left little time for him to practice the gevecht. It left little time for him to socialize with his friends. It left little time for Thea.

  Compounding the complexity of his hectic schedule, was his commitment to his dream, to his greatest desire. Aeden’s overarching need to learn to wield the arkein.

  In an effort to reach that dream, Aeden continued his normally scheduled classes with Master Glass. He was no longer allowed to study practical defense with Master Zabel, but it didn’t matter. Aeden was now taking private lessons with Master Xuban instead.

  Master Xuban had proven to be excruciatingly picky, strangely calm, and gruelingly dedicated in his craft. The lessons thus far had been exhausting and rather boring.

  Aeden had been told he needed to adjust his diet. He needed to unclutter his mind. He’d been told that he needed to resolve his ‘blockages.’

  Master Xuban spoke of the arkein in reverent and mystical tones. It confused Aeden. It made little sense to him. He preferred something concrete and visible. Something understandable. He preferred his private lessons with Master Glass.

  Although Aeden and Master Glass only met twice a week, the lessons proved to be a source of distraction, challenge, and interest. They made up for the sessions with Master Xuban.

  Aeden and Master Glass would meet in Master Glass’ office, behind one of the many doors in the Chamber of Light. It was in the stuffy confines of book-laden shelves, an oversized desk, and trinkets from across Verold that Aeden listened and learned. It was during the deepest purpling of a twilight sky that Aeden was challenged and pushed to his limits. It was within the Tower of the Arkein where Aeden finally began to open his eyes.

  Master Glass had taken an immediate liking to Aeden. For what reason, Aeden couldn’t fathom. He didn’t care. For it was through the master that Aeden was exposed to the hidden edges of the arkein.

  According to Master Glass, the arkein was more akin to understanding the underlying mathematical principles of the universe than it was some mystical and magical force. Yet, with that deeper understanding, Aeden had seen Master Glass demonstrate the spectacular.

  That night, Master Glass had waxed eloquent about the power of vibrational frequencies on the macroscopic realm of all that was visible. He had extoled the virtues of memorizing the Table of Esoteric Manipulations, and he had finally demonstrated a tiny slice of the nature and power of the arkein.

  “Aeden,” Master Glass began, “are you familiar with the Congruent Principles of Harmonic Sympathies?”

  “As in the vibrational theory relating to levitation?” Aeden inquired.

  “That’s but a piece of a larger puzzle,” Master Glass said, rubbing at his goatee thoughtfully.

  Aeden leaned forward in his chair, interest writ upon his face. He reached into his memory, remembering some of the principles and lessons taught by Headmaster Sund. There had been a reason Sund had wanted Aeden to follow the path of Music and Vibrational Theory. Finally, Aeden understood why, and he realized Laurent’s crazy conspiracy theory had been right all along. All those ‘musical’ classes had been a mask to introduce the underlying principles of the arkein.

  “Levitation is actually a partially congruent harmonic,” Master Glass paused and looked expectantly at Aeden.

  Aeden only waited a moment, racking his brain. Aeden had come to learn that Master Glass had a habit of pausing midsentence in an effort to test one’s knowledge. This was one of those times.

  “According to A Study of Vibrational Congruencies by Master Polyas, congruent harmonics create resonance, partial-congruence leads to effects of movement and distortion and non-congruence can lead to destruction…”

  Master Glass was now nodding vigorously.

  “Right,” he said, “but theorems and application are not one in the same. There are ways of listening and feeling the world that allow for one to see its hidden nature, to see past the theorems and to feel past the macroscopic realm of everyday dealings.”

  Master Glass stood and walked to a bookcase lined with shelves and filled with knick-knacks from across the three main continents of Verold. There was an ambit designed for sniffing out the arkein. A cross-staff for sea navigation. A hand-painted plate from Somerset. A length of blue steel from Gemynd, and a round stone floating above a metal ring.

  Glass studied the contents of one shelf for a moment before finding what he was looking for, a forked metal tube with two hollow prongs.

  “A tuning fork,” he said as he returned to sit opposite Aeden, “simple in design, yet endlessly complex in its rhythms and vibrational frequencies.”

  To illustrate, Master Glass tapped the metal tip of the fork against his bent knee. The fork vibrated and made a high-pitched sound.

  “Sounds are vibrations, vibrations many fail to see,” Master Glass explained, “until one makes these vibrations apparent.”

  Master Glass took the fork and placed it into a cup of water. The water splashed as it dampened the fork and the sound stopped.

  “Let’s try again,” he continued, now tapping the base of the fork against his knee, the sound was deeper. “Now see what happens as I place it into the water.”

  The fork was vibrating more strongly and more of the water splashed out of the cup.

  “This is an example of?”

  “Partial congruence,” Aeden offered, despite not being sure of the answer.

  “Correct,” Master Glass smiled, “Along with frequency and resonance, there are invisible forces that shape our world and more discreetly shape and define objects themselves!”

  Glass held the tuning fork in front of him and looked up at Aeden before glancing back to the fork. The master issued a small shout that sent the metal vibrating. He then placed the forked end back into the water to demonstrate its movement.

  “As you can see, we have the ability to manipulate the environment around us. I first stimulated sound and movement through a mere tap of the fork upon my leg, then I used my voice to do the same,” the master’s dark eyes looked up mischievously, ensuring he had an audience. “But, what if I could understand not only the macroscopic vibrations but the hidden voids and vibrations of the unseen realm?”

  Master Glass now had his palm on the tuning fork, pressing it against the surface of his desk. With one final glance at Aeden, Master Glass focused on the fork and pressed it straight through the desk.

  “What?” Aeden voiced aloud in shock.

  “Check underneath,” Glass stated smoothly, gesturing below, into the dark space below his escritoire.

  Aeden did as he was told. And to his surprise, he found the tuning fork completely undamaged and intact, res
ting in a fold of shadow on a woven carpet from Bryn Yawr.

  “Take it,” Master Glass said, “and take this,” he said, handing Aeden a book, “study, and we will continue our lessons next week.”

  Aeden nodded numbly, his mind still in shock at what he had seen. It was a small demonstration of the arkein, yet he felt like he had just seen the impossible. Part of him refused to accept it, as if it were a mere trick of the light. Part of him worried he had blinked at the wrong moment and had missed a slight of hand. Yet, he knew what he had seen. It was magic. The arkein was real.

  He was so consumed with thought that Aeden hardly remembered his walk through the towers to his dormitory. Not even the cool touch of the night air, gracing his cheeks as he crossed the bridge spanning the Tower of the Arkein and Bellas Tower, managed to pull him from the intensity of his cognition.

  Aeden undressed, placed his new book and tuning fork into a small chest before he collapsed into bed with thoughts of greater things.

  Chapter 29

  “For some the mask of emotion is all they can wear. They are to be pitied and feared.” Quote from King Cedany of Sawol

  It was early when Aeden awoke. His head throbbed with information. Mathematical formulas swam in his vision as he sat up in bed.

  The sun had yet to rise and cast its warmth upon the day. Bellas Tower felt cold. With a breath of determination, Aeden forced himself out of bed and stretched lightly, before dressing and heading to the Gardens of Andir.

  He needed to clear his mind.

  The gardens themselves were a sanctuary of sort. They held hidden corners for the romantics seeking refuge from wandering eyes. They offered vistas of Skadoian Valley for daydreaming adventurers and offered flowers and sculpted shrubbery for those wishing to ease their mind. For Aeden, they offered an open area to practice the hidden martial forms buried within the movements of the gevecht.

  Aeden began, as he usually did, with warm up exercises, before easing into the more complex movements of the gevecht. He lost himself in the forms and surrendered to atori. All thoughts of tuning forks pressed through solid wood, harmonic congruencies, and unknown principles of the arkein, fled before the flow of the fluid forms.