Into the Fold

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Into the Fold Page 20

by Chase Blackwood


  Many students were already in the intricately decorated space. Chairs were arranged about the central dias, as usual, and students had already begun to loosely assemble about their designated area.

  “See you guys,” Laurent said with a smirk, as he nodded to Thea and Aeden, moving toward the novus group of chairs.

  Aeden briefly caught a glimpse of Harmon, seated alone and hunched over a book, looking every bit like an old man huddled over a fire. Aeden watched him for a moment before catching Caine’s eye. The smile fell from Aeden’s face.

  The twins had worked their way up the tower. Janto was moving to join Caine. Caine looked away first, smiling and greeting Janto.

  Aeden didn’t like seeing Caine make friends. Part of him had hoped that Caine would remain apart from the group, ostracized. Part of him had hoped that Caine would simply give up and leave.

  Aeden turned his attention to the bijenna seats as his thoughts soured. Thea had her side to him and was standing by a chair. Rafe was crossing the room toward her. Thea didn’t seem to notice, she had a faraway look in her eye.

  If Caine was an irritant then Rafe was a nuisance. Why did he persist in talking to Thea?

  Aeden pushed past some students to approach Thea and attempt to head off Rafe.

  “Should be interesting,” Rafe said, with that charming smile plastered to his face.

  Aeden was too slow. His attempts at warding off Rafe with a glowering look had failed.

  Thea looked up. Aeden attempted a smile as he approached. He didn’t much care for Rafe. Not since Thea had introduced him at breakfast.

  “I think there’ll be some much-anticipated good news,” Rafe said, “You know, I heard Master Glass say something about you,” Rafe smiled, it was confident, charismatic, and irritating.

  Rafe finally looked up and acknowledged Aeden, “Ahh, the fighting brute,” Rafe’s smile widened, showing all his teeth, “I hardly noticed you. Have you been losing weight?”

  Aeden felt the blood rush to his face.

  The challenge with Rafe was the off-handed manner of insult he used. It was hard to respond without coming across as the aggressor. So, Aeden remained silent, brooding.

  “Of course, I joke,” Rafe stated, “and it appears it’s time for us to take our seats. Please excuse me, Lady Thea…” he paused just long enough to appear to be remembering Aeden’s name, “Arden was it?”

  “Aeden.”

  Rafe only nodded once before walking off, the faintest hint of a smirk on his face as he walked away.

  Thea was smiling.

  “You like that guy?” Aeden questioned.

  Thea only shrugged, “we’d better take our seats.”

  Aeden noticed that most students were already seated or actively moving toward their chairs. Oria, in her red top, finished her conversation with a depressed-looking Kallon. Janto moved away from Caine. Dan and Laurent concluded their pestering of Harmon.

  Aeden looked over the gathered faces until he found Adel. He had just entered. His face was flushed as he hurried to the novus seats. Adel sat, wiping sweat off his brow and looked up, catching Aeden’s gaze. There was a faint smile on his lips.

  Aeden mouthed the words, “How’d it go?”

  Adel smiled openly.

  Just then a far doorway flung open, and in procession, the masters: Hob Towne, Sam Glass, Zabal Zabel, Xuban, along with Cassius and Claire Ashdown marched in. They moved toward their seats.

  Trailing them was a new master. One Aeden didn’t recognize. Yet, despite her relatively small stature, she had immediately captured the attention of half the students present.

  She had a tanned face, that was at once calm and proud. Her posture was strong. Her gait relaxed. A long dagger was strapped to her hip. Yet, it wasn’t these idle traits that most characterized her. It was the indescribable elements that gathered about her like humidity before a storm that marked her as different.

  She carried a look of dangerous competence. It trailed her like a shadow. Mystery seemed to cocoon her from casual observation and tugged desperately at Aeden’s curiosity.

  Aeden watched as she was the last to take her seat, poised and ready, and serene.

  She glanced once about the room. Her glare chased the final whispered conversations into silence.

  It was a prelude to the entrance of the headmaster, as if all sound were momentarily frightened into the shadows before the presence of power.

  On the skirts of this silence entered Grandmaster Kaldi.

  The very air seemed to change as the grandmaster entered the room. A few students rubbed at their ears. The texture of the chamber seemed to subtly warp about him, as if he were a ship casting echoing ripples of the arkein in his wake. It whispered of the secret knowledge of the first circle. It hinted at the vast depth of ability of a grandmaster of the arkein.

  His long beard and grey hair swirled about him as he ascended the steps to the central dias. His shrewd eyes looked about the room, gathering in the students and masters the way a grandparent would their grandchildren.

  “I’ve news from beyond the fold,” the grandmaster began in his stately voice, “More specifically, from Verold.”

  His voice instantly captured their attention. Any wandering eyes fell upon the grandmaster with interest and hunger.

  “I’ll begin with the news you may deem bad. Although I would feel remiss if I didn’t remind you, there is no such thing as good or bad. This is not for us to judge, for the unfolding fabric of a vibrating universe is infinitely complex and has no inherent state of morality.”

  Aeden glanced across the room to the novus seats, and saw Laurent and Dan make faces at each other. Aeden stifled a smile and returned his attention to the grandmaster.

  “King Geobold has died,” the headmaster stated. “Mystics, the fanatical group, led by the disenfranchised Calenites, helped fan the flames of revolution…”

  Kaldi stroked his beard, his eyes narrowing as he glanced about the room, as if seeing hidden threads that no other could see. Slowly he paused, looking at the upturned faces of the bijenna students. His eyes then fixated on Aeden.

  “…there was another, whose words stirred the population. Deeds done under the guise of the Holy Order of Sancire and the intention of good, were twisted, misunderstood. These actions helped lead to revolution.”

  Grandmaster Kaldi tore his gaze from Aeden and casually gazed about, as if picking out thoughts in a room full of people were as easy as identifying a sunflower in a field of rhubarb.

  Aeden swallowed a rising lump in his throat.

  “The Blue City, Gemynd, the City that Never Forgot, has fallen into their hands, and Houses Cox, Bristol, and Harland have been broken.”

  The grandmaster paused as his eyes once again found Aeden, pausing for a heartbeat before settling on Thea. There was sorrow and understanding hidden behind his bushy brows.

  Aeden hardly noticed as he risked a quick glance at Thea. Her face was an impassive mask. It was the expression she wore when she was angry or when she was sad.

  His heart pounded strangely in his chest as he looked back to the grandmaster.

  Did Kaldi know of Aeden’s involvement in Lord Bristol’s death?

  The grandmaster continued, “King Benbow has fallen ill. To the south, Jal Isa Sha’ril has been instituted as the new Caliph of the A’sh, and consequently new trade routes have opened between Sha’ril and Bodig. This is the first time in nearly two hundred years that the Bodigan Kingdom and the Caliphate of the A’sh have engaged in purposeful, free, and open trade.”

  The grandmaster smoothed out his beard and dug into his pocket. He pulled out a small roll of parchment and gestured to the unfamiliar master, seated near the central dias.

  Aeden’s mind was still reeling. His thoughts now encompassed his time as a slave in the A’sh, his time under the hidden reins of Jal Isa Sha’ril.

  “Our Master of Acquisitions and Ancient Uses of the Arkein, Sigerica Meidl, has returned from her trip to the Imper
ium and Dimutia, and will resume her classes in the Ancient Uses of the Arkein. She has uncovered much of the news we share today, including this,” the grandmaster held up the rolled parchment, “A new passage from the Book of Divinus. One that has swept across the four corners of the Imperium,” Grandmaster Kaldi unrolled the sheaf and squinted at the letters, reading, “and so a king will rise among the Lord’s own flock and his reign will be true.”

  The grandmaster carefully rolled up the sheaf of paper and tucked it into a pocket before resuming.

  “Many believe that this passage refers to the Bodigan High Priest, Godwin, who not only, resides with Alina Cynesige, Holder of Keys, but has the ear of King Benbow, and appears to have been instrumental in negotiating with Jal Isa Sha’ril and the Caliphate of the A’sh.”

  At mention of the archduchess Aeden looked up. Memories stirred. Beauty and pain and guilt coalesced.

  Aeden stood on Alina’s balcony, his ankle throbbing painfully, a flower in his hand. “I think you should meet my uncle…” she had said, looking beautiful, innocent, and strong.

  He now stood in a room with the High Priest, his advisor, and the Captain of the Bodigan Ranged Guard. A table stood between them, covered by sigils of kings and the great houses of the Imperium.

  “I want to know everything you know about Jal Isa Sha’ril… do not stand on formality today my son, for you are doing Salvare’s work.”

  The memories faded as Grandmaster Kaldi continued.

  “Possibly connected, but unsubstantiated…was a failed assassination attempt on Hidai, the Caliph of Q’Bala. And since we are on the topic of whispers, there have been growing rumors that should no longer be ignored.”

  The grandmaster paused, as if weighing his words. He looked briefly at Master Meidl before continuing, “Ships have disappeared. Villages have been wiped off the map and talk of great beasts, many near the coast of the Isle of Fire, have finally found their way to ears that matter.

  “And now,” a faint smile spread across the grandmaster’s lips, “for the good news. As you know, we had experienced a few student deaths. Most recently with the suicide of Muriel. Most unfortunate.”

  The grandmaster rubbed at his brow.

  “With the loss of the University of Galdor, and a few of our very own, I had deemed safety more important than freedom. I now judge this to be in error,” Kaldi looked up from the podium, “Although we still don’t fully understand these student deaths, their lives should be what we remember, and how they lived should be what we emulate.

  “Therefore, after Hearvest Eve Festival, where the Sages of Umbra will visit, I will lift the ban I’ve placed upon you.”

  There was a moment of excited whispers and exchanged glances. Aeden caught Dan and Laurent exchanging some money, but his mind was elsewhere. Aeden was swimming through the moral morass of the past and wading through the agitate froth of the possible future.

  Jal Isa Sha’ril, Godwin, Alina Cynesige, the death of Lord Bristol and the potential reference of draccus fiends. It was almost too much to bear. Where did Aeden begin?

  The grandmaster held up his hands, silencing the group.

  “Following the festival, students will once again be free to leave the town of Andir and explore the Fold. Once again, testing will resume.”

  Grandmaster Kaldi stepped off the dias, he swept his beard over a shoulder, nodded to the masters and departed the Chamber of Light.

  The space erupted into conversation as soon as the door closed behind him.

  Chapter 33

  “Look to the butterfly, for it counts time as a series of moments.” Emperor Suda - Savikko

  The following months had passed quickly. Sumor faded before Hearvest, passing as quickly as a lover’s embrace. The days themselves slipped by like the final wisps of a desert cloud.

  Aeden continued with his classes, excelling beyond all expectation. Aeden’s rapid and seemingly easy success, infuriated Thea. It cast a shadow that not only irritated Sakhira but caused a sense of insecurity in the bijenna student rector, Kallon.

  Aeden’s relative infamy only grew. Aeden knew whispers of him had made their rounds upon his arrival to Andir. He had expected as much. He had always garnered a certain amount of attention. He was taller than most. He had a head of snowy white hair. He walked with a midnight Templas sword strapped to his back. Of course, people would talk.

  Yet, this was different. Normally the whispers would subside as people grew accustomed to his presence. Recently, he’d heard his name mentioned with greater frequency. He’d heard rumors that he’d cheated and bought his way into bijenna. He’d heard that some believed he’d read every book in the library. Others whispered that he’d been born gifted, graced by the gods themselves.

  The reasons for his rapid and continued success were both easy and obscure.

  If one were to ascribe a single reason, one might assume it was Aeden’s excessive studying within the great library. Others assumed that Aeden’s raw intelligence was enough to explain his progress.

  They’d only be partially correct.

  There was another reason, more hidden and known only to a few. It’s this particular reason that should be considered when examining Aeden’s progress, for it’d be foolish to not consider Aeden’s private lessons with Master Xuban and Master Glass.

  Under Master Xuban, Aeden had finally learned to calm his mind. He’d learned to expand his awareness. He’d learned to sleep less and draw energy from the Fold itself.

  Under Master Glass’ tutelage, the mysteries of the arkein fell away before Aeden’s curious mind.

  A perfect example of this took place only a few nights prior.

  Master Glass had invited Aeden to his office. He’d done it casually and in passing, so as to not raise the awareness of other students. It took place in the deep hours of gloaming, when most were in bed, asleep.

  It was in Master Glass’ office that Aeden had found himself listening to the practical applications of wave theory. On that particular night, it had ended with a demonstration of Master Glass using voice, pitch, and loudness to generate frequencies that opposed objects and created frequencies that resonated with the objects themselves. It was the idea of resonance that most startled Aeden.

  Master Glass had taken out a small sheet of crystalline glass and affixed it to a vice. He had used his voice to cause the crystalline sheet to vibrate. The vibrations were short lived. He then changed the pitch of his voice and had Aeden note the increased length of vibrations and explained the idea of resonance.

  Resonance simply put, was the synchronous vibration of an object with an outside source. Master Glass then repeated with the same pitch but increased the volume of his voice until the sheet shattered.

  According to Master Glass, everything has a frequency. The simpler the object, the simpler the frequency. Combination objects, like alloys, needed more than one simultaneous frequency to achieve proper resonance. As Master Glass described it, “…the concepts of resonance were but the first step in understanding the true nature of the universe and the hidden power of the arkein.”

  For all of Master Glass’ lectures, it was his demonstration of breaking the crystalline sheet that had left Aeden spellbound. That moment had encapsulated him. It had given him hope. It had reaffirmed his resolve that there was greater power to be had. It allowed Aeden to believe that the remote idea of revenge, was attainable.

  Master Glass had shown Aeden that matter wasn’t bound by the simple rules he had learned since childhood, but alternatively were bound to the hidden principles of the arkein. Principles that allowed for manipulation and for destruction.

  There was more to Aeden’s schedule than classes and hidden lessons.

  His private time was filled in thought and study. He had yet to uncover more on the draccus fiend, despite hours of research. He struggled with the flavor of guilt and had ultimately decided to bury specific thoughts, suppressing them into a dark corner of his mind.

  Aeden continued hi
s routine of practicing the gevecht in the morning and studying/meeting Thea in the library at night. Their meetings were becoming less frequent and strangely, more passionate. They’d often argue and then fall into a heap upon some hidden corner, desperately groping at each other as if their very lives depended on it.

  Thea’s mood had turned darker as the cloud of Gemynd’s falling and the breaking of House Bristol had settled deep within her heart. A shadow had passed over her and established residence, pulling at her thoughts and striping away her attention.

  To make matters worse, Caine had passed the novus test and entered bijenna.

  Merely sitting in the same classroom as Caine was a distraction. It was like someone had painted a black splotch onto a Sumor painting. It was hard to ignore and it pulled from the beauty of an otherwise peaceful scene.

  Aeden struggled to ignore him, yet Caine had slowly been recruiting friends, using his false charm, unnatural charisma, and false confidence. This only emboldened him to greater heights of annoyance. Consequently, Aeden had slowly become the center of Caine’s attention. Attention that Aeden had hoped to avoid.

  There were a few balancing elements. It seemed, the Fold, much like Verold, followed the principles of harmonious opposites.

  Sigerica Meidl, the Acquisitions and Ancient Use of Arkein Arts Instructor, was a topic of fascination that swept Aeden’s circle of friends, filling them with speculation and conversation. The speculation was fueled by Sigerica Meidl’s reticence to talk and her confident demeanor. Scars hinted at hidden adventure and her silence had become a cloak of mystery.

  Laurent and Daniel had made Master Meidl their mission. They were nothing, if not obsessive when money was involved. In this case, the bet was simple, who could find the most interesting tidbit of information on the reclusive master.

  After days of scouring the library, Dan had won the bet. He had uncovered a book titled The Realities of Myth and Legend, written by none other than Master Meidl herself. It was a book that offered alternative explanations to centers of mystery and certain historical atrocities. Instead of the usual explanations, it hinted at the mystical.

 

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