Into the Fold

by Chase Blackwood

  To say the group was frustrated, would be akin to saying a howler monkey is quiet. We were anything but calm as our voices became elevated. Our gestures ever grander, our voices ever louder, echoing off the grand spaces within.

  On the other side of the hall was another group, surrounding their own table, trying to open their own box. Those students were, Kallon, Janto, Adel, and Caine.

  I looked across the space, marked by a wall of windows. Beyond the colored glass was the square at the foot of the Tower of the Arkein. My eyes paused ever so briefly on Aeden. He seemed rather distracted, but not by our current conundrum.

  Even as I grew annoyed, I watched him. Not staring mind you, but furtive glances, stolen when the moment allowed for it.

  I think it had already become an old habit by that point. It’s hard for me to tell when it had begun. Part of me is convinced it was from our very first meeting.

  It had felt like a strange gift of fate. He’d been sitting on the Tempest along with Adel. We were sailing from Water’s Gate to Imp’s Landing at the time. His lean body was marked by bruises and scratches and cuts. His hair had been so white. But what had most captivated me were his eyes. They were a startling grey. They were so full of sadness, as if echoing my own loss.

  If that’s where it began then I only reinforced that habit as time swept us along in an inextricable current.

  Even as I looked upon the box in anger, I watched him. Subtly of course. I only cast the smallest glance, furtively, discreetly. I told myself I was watching for signs of attrition, but if I were to say that was the only reason, it’d be a lie. The more hidden reason lurked out of sight. It was simple. I still loved him.

  “How in the seven hells are we supposed to figure this out?” Garit said, as he turned the box over again.

  Oria nodded in agreement.

  “It doesn’t make any sense,” she replied, “Why wouldn’t they allow us use of the library? Or to speak to other students?”

  “It’s a test,” I replied in exasperation, “That’s why.”

  I could have been kinder, but I was angry, frustrated. I was young.

  Garit hardly seemed to notice. He continued to fiddle with the box. Sakhira looked over Garit’s shoulder.

  “You know,” Garit said distractedly, “the Inquisition was supposedly looking for hidden boxes locked with ancient secrets. According to Cedany the Historian, one of the boxes was found…”

  “Could you shut up about the Inquisition already,” I nearly shouted.

  Garit never stopped talking about the Inquisition. He was infatuated with them.

  His eyes grew wide. He placed the box onto the table and took a step back. Garit looked like a kicked puppy. I felt a measure of guilt.

  Sakhira glanced from Garit to me. He sensed my dilemma. I knew Sakhira often watched me nearly as closely as I had watched Aeden.

  “Let’s review the rules,” Sakhira said, distracting everyone from my outburst, “Perhaps we missed something. Maybe there’s a clue in them.”

  “There’s no clue,” Oria exasperated.

  I gave her a stern look. She too had begun to bother me. I think it was the way she casually glanced at Aeden. Or it could have been how she had purposefully primped herself. Her hair was clean, smooth, and tidy. Her clothing flattered her form.

  “Regardless,” Sakhira cut back in, “Perhaps there is something we missed.” He launched right into the rules, “Rule one: The Great Library is off limits until we’ve completed our quest. Rule two: no master or non-team member may assist in solving the given challenges. Rule three: rules are the boundaries between wisdom and imagination, follow them.”

  Oria was shaking her head.

  “The last one isn’t even a rule,” Garit uttered to himself.

  Oria chimed in, “Give that to me,” she said, reaching for the box, “The rules won’t help us solve this stupid puzzle box.” She turned to look at Aeden, “You could help too, you know.”

  Oria’s voice was more of an invitation. It didn’t carry the weight of frustration it had a moment ago. It was soft, almost questioning.

  Garit looked from Oria to Aeden as if just noticing him. Garit began nodding to himself.

  “You’re good at puzzles,” Garit said.

  Sakhira subtly took a step back from the table, as if giving Aeden space. There was a hint of deference in his movement.

  Aeden tore his attention from the angelic statues that framed one of the stained-glass windows. A strange expression was on his face. He focused his eyes on the box upon the table. Oria had stopped fiddling with it and took a half step back. It sank into a pool of its own darkness as all eyes turned to Aeden.

  At first, he remained motionless. He stood, rooted like an old tree, returning everyone’s glare. Except for mine, that is. He still wouldn’t meet my eyes. It was another part of my overall frustration.

  “He’s already done enough,” I whispered, just loud enough for Aeden to hear.

  Aeden looked up at this, seeing my face but not my eyes. My expression was one of an issued challenge. It was subtle, like the stare of a predator who’d just caught sight of its prey. I had studied him for over a year. I knew how to manipulate him when needed.

  Aeden drew himself up and looked at each member of the team. He then looked at the box for a long moment, the wheels turning in that clever mind of his.

  The room had grown so quiet that it was startling when he spoke.

  “Step back,” Aeden directed, his voice was strong yet calm.

  Garit did so immediately, as if ordered by one of the masters. Oria remained obstinate for a moment, before collapsing under the weight of his grimace.

  I stood on the opposite side of the table and refused to do as Aeden requested.

  It was then, that Aeden caught my eye. It was rare that we purposefully looked at each other. Not since he’d admitted to killing my father. Not since I’d understood his role in the destruction of my home, my family, my city.

  As I stood, rooted, staring into his eyes, I felt myself drawn into him. I’d forgotten how dark his eyes could become. I’d forgotten how intense they were, like the hooded glare of a demon snake.

  I’m proud to admit that I didn’t budge, even if it was foolish.

  A tiny smile claimed his mouth. It was the only hint of movement he allowed me to glimpse, before he swept forth in an avalanche of controlled intent. In one smooth action he’d drawn his sword, stepped forward, and sliced into the box.

  I didn’t have a chance to flinch. He was faster than a striking cobra. I blinked and his sword was sheathed, as if he’d never drawn it in the first place.

  Aeden had split the box in two, straight down the center. The box broke into two halves, as if he had planned it. Had I not caught the smallest hint of surprise wrinkle his forehead, I’d have thought it to be his plan all along. The others were too focused on the box to have caught it.

  “That was amazing,” Oria gushed.

  It was obvious she liked him, but Aeden’s attention was on the contents within the box. He didn’t seem to notice. He could be so thick at times.

  “You’re like a storybook hero,” Garit said seriously.

  Sakhira didn’t say a word.

  As we stood, stunned, Aeden stepped forward. He separated the two halves and reached into the box. The room fell silent. Even the others on the opposite side had grown quiet. I could feel their gaze, Kallon, Caine, Janto, and Adel.

  Everyone watched as Aeden pulled out a tightly rolled map. Garit was openly smiling. Oria was still in shock. As for me. I already had my hand out, reaching for the map.

  Aeden paused for but a moment, before he stepped forward and handed it to me. He shrank back into one of the room’s shadows.

  With the map in hand, I stepped into the light. All eyes were on me now. I’ll admit, I lingered for a moment, savoring the attention, as my fingers rested on the leather tie that bound it together. I unraveled it carefully and looked down. My brow wrinkled in confusion.
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  It was unlike any map I’d ever seen. I should have known.

  Chapter 51

  “Rules are what adults create to feel safe in the world.” Herlewin’s Letters of Apology

  I will admit, I had hoped for my own moment of glory. I had hoped to unravel the map and lead the group to the Sages of Umbra. Instead it was another puzzle, this time in the form of riddles. So, I did the only sensible thing I could think of. I laid the map onto the table, for all to see.

  Everyone took a step closer, even Aeden. Oria, Garit, Sakhira, Aeden and I, peered at the simple lines of detail, depicting Mystes Mountain, the Lufian River, Monolith Bridge, Skadoian Valley, Bryn Yawr, and the encircling mountain range.

  Mystes Mountain sat in the center of the Fold with Skadoian Valley immediately to the north. To the far north, nestled against the northern mountains was Bryn Yawr. The Lufian River ran south from Mystes Mountain, and split in two, into a fork, dividing the south into three sections.

  Tucked into the southwest portion of the map, were three riddles, scripted in small letters. At first glance they were unintelligible.

  “I can’t read that from here,” Oria proclaimed.

  I squinted down at it.

  “What’s it say?” Garit asked inquisitively, “Is that even Heortian?”

  I picked up the map and squinted at the stylized writing. My frustrations began to grow. All my expectations were being dashed to the ground like a prized set of Somerset plates. I’d seen that writing once before.

  The cold fingers of frustration laced about my stomach, pulling it ever deeper into a relentless pit of discomfort. It took a moment for me to remember to breathe.

  I dropped the map onto the table. I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to continually admit that I was unable to solve something, anything. Most especially, when the person who could, was the source of my anger.

  Oria pulled the map closer.

  “What language is that?” she asked.

  “Sagaru,” Aeden said from behind her.

  Garit was staring at the central window, it was the most elaborate of the stained-glass windows. He turned his attention to Aeden.

  “What’s Sagaru?”

  Aeden smiled. It wasn’t an ordinary smile. It was the kind of tight smile one offers to placate a child. The kind of smile that shows a deeper sense of pain. For a moment I almost didn’t feel angry at him. For a moment I could see that we shared the same sense of loss.

  For a moment…

  “Could you translate it?” Oria asked, as she batted her eyelashes.

  Aeden didn’t appear to notice her flirtations. He was intently studying the map. I, however, did notice. It seemed all to obvious. She was practically throwing the woman’s book of courting at him.

  “There appear to be three riddles,” Aeden said, his deep voice tearing into my thoughts.

  I cleared my throat and glanced across the hall. Adel, Kallon, Janto and Caine were still struggling to open their box. Janto had his knife out as Caine appeared to be uttering suggestions. Kallon stood back, shaking his head with his arms crossed in disapproval.

  What was inside? Another map? Was their map in Sagaru as well?

  Aeden began reading.

  “For knowledge sought but not yet gained,” he stumbled and paused as he translated from Sagaru into Heortian, “tread the midnight path, deliberating upon the heads that run but never walk, whose sharp tongue offends but never talks.”

  The words ran through my mind like soup through the prongs of a serving fork. I frowned as I struggled to remember all the words. It was like trying to remember the fading images of a half-forgotten dream.

  It was then that I knew. I wouldn’t be the first to solve this puzzle. A dark thought entered my mind. I didn’t want Aeden to solve it, even if it meant we became lost. Especially, if it meant we became lost.

  “Is that it?” Sakhira questioned.

  Aeden shook his head. I had been watching him again.

  “There are two others,” he replied, staring at the map with a strange expression.

  “Let’s focus on the first one,” I said, trying to regain some control of the situation.

  A loud noise echoed across Seraph Hall as Caine threw their box to the ground. For a moment, all eyes were on him. Their box lay on the stone, intact. Caine cursed. Janto giggled. Adel looked away in shame.

  “We’re competing,” I said, “the faster we solve this, the faster we make it to the Sages of Umbra.”

  Sakhira turned his attention away from the commotion. Oria half listened and half watched me, splitting her attention with the far side of the hall.

  “I wonder if they got it open,” Garit said, still looking at the other group.

  Oria then looked at Aeden, who had just gestured something to Adel.

  “Maybe we can read it line by line,” she had stepped closer to Aeden, using her inability to see the map as a pretense for her proximity.

  Garit was nodding in agreement.

  Aeden looked about, gathering in everyone’s attention like water to paper. His voice was resonant, confident, and smooth.

  “First line: For knowledge sought but not yet gained.”

  Was Oria leaning in to him? Had her breast just brushed his arm?

  My face turned red in anger. Thankfully, no one was paying me any attention.

  “That seems pretty straight forward,” Garit said enthusiastically, “We’re seeking knowledge from the Sages of Umbra, but we haven’t gotten there yet, hence, we haven’t gained said knowledge yet.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Sakhira said agreeably.

  I glanced quickly at Aeden. He was rubbing his chin thoughtfully, but remained silent as a stone. A faint crimson hue crept along the floor as the sun fell through the sky. The central stained-glass window now cast a startling new set of colors upon the floor. The window itself, depicted radiant lines radiating from a blood-red doorway. The faint lines ensnared a hooded figure, shadowed by mountains.

  “Let’s try to decipher the second line,” Oria said, gently placing a hand on Aeden’s arm, and pulling my attention back to the group.

  I bit my lip to keep from insulting her. Oria removed her hand, but remained too close. Couldn’t everyone see her game? How dare she try to flirt with him?

  “The second line reads: deliberating upon the heads that run but never walk.”

  Just then, one of the doors opened. I glanced up to see Laurent and Dan walk in. Aeden frowned ever so slightly. Oria took a step back from Aeden, and I turned my attention to the inseparable twosome.

  Laurent was openly smiling as he walked in confidently. He looked like a fat cat strolling through a sunbeam. More like a fat noble’s son, I thought to myself, which wasn’t far from the truth. His father was the Lord of Mende after all.

  Laurent waved. His tall companion, Dan, followed closely and less confidently behind him. Dan’s lanky frame seemed to spell the word “awkward.”

  Garit waved back.

  “What’re you up to?” Laurent asked, his eyes already gathering in the scene.

  Oria approached them, shooing them away like wandering, stray dogs. Her face was rigid, as if they’d interrupted her in a private moment.

  “You’re not allowed in here!”

  Dan ignored her. I hid a smile. Oria’s shoulders slumped as she looked back for support.

  “Is it arbitrary rule day?” Laurent retorted, before looking to Dan. “I have one, don’t tell me what to do.”

  Laurent continued forward, walking around a stunned Oria. Garit’s head was tilted to the side in confusion and interest. I was shaking my head in disapproval.

  We had to solve the riddles and find the Sages of Umbra, not dally with other students, especially Dan and Laurent. They had a propensity to play when one needed to work.

  Seeing my expression, Sakhira stepped forward. His face was stern, like an angered pup. I couldn’t help compare him to an angry Aeden. They were as different as the moon an
d the sun.

  You’re thankful for the moon on a dark night, but it doesn’t warm you. Its light fails to penetrate the depths of a forest or illuminate the distant terrain. It doesn’t threaten you, rather, it calms you with its gentle effigy to the night.

  The sun, however, is far more dangerous. One doesn’t stare for fear of its bite. Its blinding and its bright. It melts the snow, burns away the morning dew, and reddens the skin with its unrelenting intensity.

  It dawned on me that Sakhira and Aeden were nothing alike.

  Yet, Aeden remained fixed to his spot. He watched the scene unfold with the same relaxed interest as a lion basking in the sun.

  “You guys can’t be here,” Sakhira stated.

  “Sure we can,” Laurent responded.

  Dan was looking around the room. He seemed more interested in what we were hiding than Laurent’s interaction.

  “The rules clearly state: no non-team member may assist in solving the given challenges.”

  Laurent scratched his head as he pondered the words. He too began looking around the room. Then his eyes fell on Aeden and then to the map in Aeden’s hand.

  “Great,” Laurent exclaimed, “we’ll just watch.”

  Dan chimed in, “No assistance from us. Consider us otiose.”

  Oria rolled her eyes. Garit simply stared at them dumbly.

  “So,” Laurent asked, “what’s the riddle?”

  “How do you even know there’s a…” I asked, before catching myself.

  I didn’t want to be caught in another one of their bets. I had no doubt they’d been eavesdropping, probably in an attempt to see who could figure the riddle out first, or something to that affect.

  Garit was looking at Dan and Laurent carefully as if uncovering his own riddle.

  “You’re betting on which team finishes first,” Garit said after some consideration.

  Laurent pointed at Garit, openly smiling, “You’ve hit the nail on the head.”

  “What nail?” Garit inquired, looking about.

  Laurent wrinkled his brow as he attempted to peer at the map. Dan was smiling. For them, life was a game. They were children in grown men’s bodies. Despite being bothersome, I envied them. They seemed free of worry, free of responsibility.