Hollow Core

by Gage Lee

  The rest of the area was completely empty and covered in short-cropped grass so green it looked like someone had painted it. At two hundred feet on a side, the exercise yard was large enough to hold every member of the student body and faculty with room to spare. Even with every initiate gathered for calisthenics, it seemed almost empty.

  “Where are the wardens?” Eric had switched out of his vest and shorts and into a more traditional gi. The sleeves and legs of his workout gear were lined with impressive scrivenings that I could almost read. They had something to do with strength and speed, which made sense for a Resplendent Sun.

  “That’s a good question,” Clem responded.

  The three of us looked around the open courtyard and realized it wasn’t just the wardens missing. There were no upperclassmen or professors present, either. We stared at one another, wary and uncertain whether this was some sort of trap or a new challenge for us to battle through.

  Deacon, the only other Shadow Phoenix initiate, was in the courtyard with us, but he wanted nothing to do with me. Since our first breakfast together, he and the rest of the dragons had avoided me like I was the carrier of a particularly nasty and highly infectious disease. It was frustrating because the other members of my clan should’ve been my most trusted allies, not suspicious enemies. If I couldn’t figure out some way to get them back on my side, winning the Core Challenge would be almost impossible.

  “Students!” A man’s sharp voice rang out over our heads. “We have a treat for you today.”

  A professor I hadn’t met before floated down from one of the balconies that surrounded the exercise yard. Thick currents of jinsei held him aloft, and even my wounded core felt the pulses of energy that washed off him.

  “Today, you will learn your first specialized technique,” he called out. “I am Professor Aurelius, your fusion sword instructor.”

  Excited ripples passed through the initiates, and I felt a stab of dread at the thought of another jinsei course. Fusion swords were weapons of jinsei expressed from an Empyreal’s core. The more powerful your core, the more jinsei it could hold, and the more impressive your fusion sword would be.

  “I see you’ve all heard of the fusion sword.” Aurelius hovered several yards over our heads. “Today, you will learn to summon your own weapon.”

  “Oh, wow.” Eric practically bounced out of his skin with excitement. “I thought we’d be at least second years before we did this.”

  “Of course not,” Clem said with a shake of her head. “Second year is when we start our advanced martial arts training. We’d need our weapons before then.”

  “Let us begin, students.” Aurelius spread his arms wide and then folded them over his abdomen. “Start by focusing on your breathing. Dive deep into the techniques you were taught before you came here to begin your formal training. Everything starts there, with the simplest and most basic of all jinsei cycling techniques.”

  More breathing. It seemed like that was all I ever did, day and night, over and over. I’d become so practiced in it that I often fell into circular breathing without even realizing I’d done it. Jinsei rushed into my body, passed through my hollow core, and drained away like water through a cracked sieve.

  “Good, good,” Professor Aurelius continued after a minute of intense breath cycling. “You should have a good store of jinsei stored up in your core. Now it is time to fashion it into a weapon that will reveal your true soul’s style.”

  Well, that wasn’t going to work out well for me. My true soul’s style would be an invisible blade fashioned from nothing. Professor Aurelius would see my damaged core for what it truly was, and I’d be expelled before dinner.

  I had to think of something, and I had to think fast.

  The cores of the students around me were easy to see with even the basic aura sight of someone with a foundation core. They glowed like balls of molten metal and radiated power like stoked furnaces. Most cores hovered somewhere near the initiate’s solar plexus, though a few held their power nearer the heart or, in very rare cases, even in their heads.

  My core looked like a silver circle with a dark center. Jinsei briefly flared to life as it orbited the interior of my core, but the pulses left just as quickly and carried the corruption from my aura with them.

  That was another side effect of my time in the laboratory. I didn’t know where Hahen got the jinsei I had to cleanse, but it was the most polluted energy I’d ever had the misfortune to encounter. It was filled with toxic aspects, and those clogged up my core so badly it was almost impossible for me to fully cleanse my core of their influence. That left me feeling weak and tired most of the time, and irritable all the time.

  “Now, imagine the perfect weapon,” Aurelius continued. “It fits your hand, or hands, perfectly. It is weighted just for you, and every motion you make with it is as natural and relaxed as pointing your finger. You think, and the weapon follows. It is, quite literally, made for you. Fix that image in your mind, and when you breathe out on your next cycle, imagine the weapon forming in your grasp.”

  My mother had never trained me in the fusion sword technique, but what Aurelius explained seemed way too simple to work. If the only requirement to make a fusion sword was a good imagination and a belly full of jinsei, the labor camps would have been overrun by sword-wielding maniacs long ago.

  There had to be something else to this, something that was obvious to Empyreals but not to someone from the camps.

  But what?

  An initiate with short red hair and a fuzzy wisp of an adolescent beard gasped and whooped in surprise. By the time he’d gotten my attention, the half-formed blade in his hand had already evaporated into little more than the suggestion of a scimitar’s outline.

  “Almost!” Aurelius shouted and clapped his hands for the boy. “Maybe you need some encouragement, yes? The first one to fully manifest their fusion sword will win the first Core Contest!”

  Excitement whipped through the crowd. Every brow furrowed as we all battled for the same prize. Flickers of light snapped into focus around me, but faded away before their creators could solidify their jinsei into a true soul fusion weapon.

  Desperate to stay in the game, I pretended to cough and covered my mouth with my hand. That gave me the distraction I needed to filch a jinsei serum from my belt and swallow it in a single gulp.

  The power was limited, and it wouldn’t stay in my leaky core for long, but I prayed it would give me a little of the guidance I needed to succeed at this task. I bore down on the energy with every ounce of willpower I possessed while holding an image of the weapon I so desperately craved in my thoughts.

  There was no resistance from my core to hold the jinsei in place. It flooded through my system like a jolt of electricity and burst through the palm of my right hand in a flash of pure white radiance. That flash stretched itself out into a long, thin needle of power. The handle of a lightweight, nimble weapon rested in my grip as if it had always been there.

  “Whoa,” Clem said from next to me. “You and Eric almost have it.”

  I didn’t have the attention to spare to look at Eric’s blade, but Clem had no reason to lie to me. My blade continued to grow as my cyclic breathing pumped more and more of the stolen jinsei serum into its form. It transformed from a needle of light into the outline of a curved blade with a long, sloped hilt, and its weight became more substantial as it drew closer to reality. If I had a little more serum...

  But I didn’t.

  The last of the stolen jinsei sizzled through the gaps in my hollow core, and the blade I held faded to milky translucence that felt as insubstantial as the morning mist. My circular breathing cycled enough jinsei through my core to keep feeding the weapon, but the process had slowed to a glacial pace.

  “Well done, Eric! Four points for you and two for the Resplendent Suns!” Professor Aurelius announced my friend’s success, my horrible failure, in a jovial tone that made my stomach clench into an angry fist.

  The rest of the st
udents crowded around Eric and cheered his success, but my attention to my soul fusion sword never wavered. Losing wasn’t the same as giving up, and I was not about to give up on this test.

  It was obvious that my breathing technique could keep the sword in a state of stasis, which was impressive for someone with no jinsei stores. If I could maintain it, then what said I couldn’t improve it?

  The speed of my breaths increased. I pumped air through my body until my head swam with the flow of jinsei, and then I pushed myself further. A voice tried to penetrate the calm, cold place I’d retreated to, but it was easy enough to ignore whoever it was when I had something so much more important in front of me.

  The fusion sword hummed with new life as a steady stream of jinsei flowed through me and into the weapon’s form. Time trickled past, and the blade’s handle became as solid and real as the ground I stood on.

  My lungs ached from the strain I’d placed on them. My core felt like someone had filled it with shards of broken glass as I forced a thicker and faster flow of jinsei through it. The pain faded when I saw the blade’s curve grow brighter, sharper, and reflect the rays of the dying sun.

  “Mr. Warin,” Professor Aurelius said my name with a tone of deep concern. “Are you still in there?”

  There was no spare breath in my lungs to answer the professor. I gave him the barest of nods and kept on with my work. It wouldn’t be long now.

  The weight of a hundred eyes bore down on me. A swirl of confused emotions—envy, anger, curiosity, even hatred—bore down on the shell of my aura as the crowd’s attention focused more keenly on what I was doing. They didn’t understand me or my core, and a thread of fear creeped through their hearts as they watched what I could do. One by one, their attention faded as they turned away from me.

  At last, my jinsei glossed over the blade’s edge and ran off its tip in milky pearls that sizzled and faded into the air before they reached the ground. The fusion blade was complete.

  “Remarkable,” Professor Aurelius said in a low, strained voice. “Not even a hint of a corrupting aspect in this weapon. Its purity is almost disturbing.”

  The professor reached for the weapon, then stopped when I pulled it in close to my body. The blade was connected to my core, and some instinct warned me that any harm that came to the weapon would damage me, as well.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Warin,” he said. “That was rude of me. An artist should never presume to touch another’s weapon. A wise practitioner guards his blade with his life, as its fate is tied to his own. May I examine it?”

  I nodded and extended the weapon’s handle to him. As he took it from me, I felt a pang of loss and a sudden urge to rip it out of his grip.

  Aurelius held the weapon between us and raised it to his eye level. He examined the cutting edge first, nodding slowly as his eyes traversed the blade’s three-foot length. Then he turned his attention to the handle, which was a little more than half as long as the blade. He nodded appreciatively at the fusion sword’s curves and gave it a slow test swing from shoulder height diagonally across his body.

  “Is it acceptable?” I asked. I had no idea what kind of weapon this was, only that it felt right in my hand. It would be just my luck that I’d poured my soul into something useless for actual fighting.

  “Oh, much more than acceptable,” Professor Aurelius said with a smile. “I’m glad I sent the other students away before they could see this. It’s remarkable, but you won’t make any friends flashing around a weapon of this quality.”

  “What?” I’d just felt the attention of the other students a moment ago. “How long have I been here?”

  “Jace, it’s all right,” Aurelius said. “You were caught up in the process—sometimes that can take you to a very deep place. The good news is that you did excellent work, and I’ve decided to award you three ranks, individually, for summoning your sword. The bad news is that you’ve missed dinner, I’m afraid.”

  My heart soared when I heard that I’d earned ranks in the Core Contest, but immediately plunged when I realized I was late. Panic bolted wings to my heels, and I left the exercise yard at a dead run.

  Professor Aurelius called after me, but I didn’t have time to deal with him. My sword vanished as fear of the rat spirit’s anger swept over me and demolished the last shreds of my concentration. I had to get to the alchemical lab before Hahen lost his temper.

  If he hadn’t already.

  The Technique

  NAVIGATING THE SCHOOL was just about impossible when you were in a hurry. The exercise yard wasn’t far from the main entryway, but I kept finding myself taking wrong turns and opening passages that led me in the complete opposite direction. I had to calm down, slow my thoughts, and focus on my goal or I’d never reach it.

  “Hey,” Clem said. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “I’m late. We can catch up after breakfast if you’ve got time.”

  “Oh.” She moved down the hall toward me, a faint smile twitching at the corners of her lips. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Things seemed pretty intense at the sword fusion lesson. The boys and I tried to stick around until you’d snapped out of... whatever happened, but Professor Aurelius chased us off.”

  “Oh, that.” I really didn’t have time for this conversation, but I also didn’t want to be rude to Clem. She was one of the few actual friends I had, and I couldn’t afford to lose her. “I’m all right. My core’s not really strong enough to make a full fusion sword. I kind of wore myself out trying too hard.”

  Professor Aurelius had warned me that other students wouldn’t take kindly to my fusion weapon. Telling Clem a little lie seemed preferable to annoying her with the truth.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” She reached out and brushed something from my shoulder. “You’ll get stronger. Everyone does. Right now, you’re still trying to catch up to where most of us were before we came here. Don’t give up.”

  “I won’t,” I assured her. “I really have to get to work. Let’s hang out after breakfast tomorrow, okay?”

  “I just...” Clem broke off, furrowed her brow for a moment’s concentration, then started again. “I wanted you to know I’m behind you. If there’s anything I can do to help you adjust to all this, or anything you need...”

  Her words trailed off, and it was my turn to furrow my brow.

  “You’ve been more than kind to me.” Hahen could wait a few more seconds. “And I appreciate it, even if I don’t understand why.”

  “Why?” Clem laughed, a tight, almost bitter sound. “My parents deal with a lot of important people in Empyreal society. I’ve seen a lot of very bad people go a long way in the world, and I’d like to see someone who’s good finally get what they’ve earned.”

  “I’m not anything special.” I shrugged and fidgeted uncomfortably.

  “You’re scrappy, I like that.” Clem grinned. “You can do this, I swear. The Empyreal society needs more good people. It needs you, Jace.”

  Clem’s praise made me blush, and I ducked my head to hide my burning cheeks.

  “Thank you, I’m honored you think so,” I mumbled. “I really have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, all right?”

  Clem nodded and gave me an uncertain wave as I took off down a side passage.

  I walked only as quickly as my thoughts could guide me and soon found myself in the main entryway at the shadowed doorway that Tycho had shown me. A few minutes after that, I’d wound my way through the building’s guts and stood in front of the alchemy laboratory’s door.

  There was no way for me to tell how late I was, but the growling from my stomach told me it was well past my usual dinnertime. I needed to get a watch, something with an alarm, to keep me on schedule. Hahen would be furious that I’d delayed our work.

  I hoped he wouldn’t do anything too violent.

  “I apologize for my tardiness.” I bowed deeply the instant I crossed the threshold and held the submissive pose until the laboratory’s door clanged
shut behind me. “My studies took longer than anticipated. Professor Aurelius showed me how to make a fusion sword.”

  Hahen was slumped on a stool at the center of the laboratory. His whiskers twitched, and I felt the weight of his concentration against my aura. When his eyes had begun to fail him, the rat spirit’s other senses picked up the slack, and his aura perception was chief among them. When other initiates focused their aura sight on me, their senses felt like gentle breezes blowing against my skin. When Hahen peered at me, his attention was as oppressive as a lead cloak draped over my shoulders.

  “A fusion sword?” The rat spirit snorted. “They teach initiates to carry a loaded gun without telling them how dangerous it can be. Did Aurelius tell you the blade cuts both ways?”

  “I am sorry, honored spirit.” I wasn’t sure what he was going on about, but at least he hadn’t chewed my head off my shoulders. “We didn’t learn to use them, we were merely instructed in how to summon them.”

  “Typical.” Hahen shook his head. “Of course they never tell initiates of the dark side of their arts. You summon your blade from jinsei tied to your core. What do you think happens to your core if that blade breaks?”

  “I apologize for my ignorance, honored spirit.” I stumbled over my words as the implication of what Hahen had just told me sank into my weary brain. I’d used stolen jinsei from this laboratory to craft my weapon. If the fusion blade was damaged, the lab itself would pay the price. That was something I’d have to consider before I summoned the weapon again. On the other hand, that also meant that more traditional sacred artists were vulnerable through their weapons, a fact I’d also keep in mind. “And I apologize again for my tardiness. Shall we begin?”

  “And what makes you think I want to work later than necessary?” The rat spirit groaned and adjusted his weight on my stool. “I need my rest as much as you, weakling.”