by McCoy, RS
Myxini
In the morning light, the common room was larger and grander than anything I had ever seen. The walls were intricately painted with a map of Madurai and the surrounding nations. I wasn’t surprised to find Lagodon missing, though it did make me a little sad for some reason. I had seen a map before and recognized most of the places from sight, but I was excited to learn how to read. I knew the map had much more than outlines to offer me once I was ready.
Khea woke next and came to stand beside me. We gazed at the place where Lagodon would be and she slid her hand into mine. “Do you think we’ll ever get back there?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Do we have anything to go back to?”
“No, not really.” Her eyes glazed over at the thought, and I instantly regretted it. I only thought of my parents, how they wouldn’t need me and might even be happy without me, but for her…
“Khea, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You’re right. This is our home now.”
It was strange, how close we’d become in such a short time, but the bond I felt with her was undeniable. I could only hope that Myxini would be a good place for us.
“Will we get to stay together?” she asked.
I had no idea. I’d never been to school before. “I’m not sure. I hope I can see you after this.”
A moment later, a door opened and a woman with streaks of grey in her hair stepped inside. Her thoughts were silent, just like Rhorken, and just like Khea. Why can’t I hear them? I asked myself, more and more anxious that my ability was proving too weak.
“Good morning and welcome to Myxini School for Children. My name is Lheda. I’m the Headmistress here.”
“Good morning,” Khea and I replied together.
“Lark Davies, please come with me.” I looked at Khea, who nodded as if to say she’d be alright.
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, grabbing my bow and quiver before following behind her back through the same door.
She led me through a series of corridors for what seemed like a while. I was torn between admiration of the impressive architecture and the fine tapestries that hung from the walls, all while trying to keep our route in my head in case I needed to walk back on my own. Torches were spaced evenly between the numerous stained glass windows, giving the air a smoky smell.
The Headmistress stopped in front of a pair of carved wooden doors–easily three or four times my height–with large wrought iron handles. She pulled one open and entered into what appeared to be her study, motioning for me to have a seat in one of two brown leather chairs that sat in front of a large, ornate desk. She sat and hardly seemed perturbed at all by the litter of papers that sat piled high before her. The walls were covered in maps, stuck with red and blue flags that dotted the terrain, and I wondered if they signified locations of places that weren’t shown on the other map.
In the light that came in from the tall window, I could see that the Headmistress was not as old as I first thought. She had maybe thirty summers and–rather than streaks of grey–they were blonde; her face was sharp and showed no true signs of age. She sat easily in her high backed chair and considered me while I eyed the yellow pendant around her neck. It shimmered just like Rhorken’s, only hers was decorated with a black wasp.
“Rhorken tells me you are quite gifted. What do you know of your abilities?”
“I think I’m a good hunter. I can track animals fairly well, according to my father.”
“It seems you chose to come with very little resistance. Can you tell me why that is?” Are you disappointed that I didn’t resist? I thought we could choose.
“My mother was sick.”
“I see. Aside from hunting and tracking, there is something else, isn’t there?” As she asked, her right hand moved to touch the copper bracelet on her left wrist, which matched the one Rhorken wore.
Does she already know? Or is she testing me to see if I’ll tell. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Did Rhorken explain to you what a Tracer does?”
“No, ma’am.”
“A Tracer is an individual who possesses a strong Spark that can detect the Sparks in others. He told you about the Spark?” I nodded, and she quickly continued. “Tracers can tell how bright a Spark is and, in many cases, get an idea as to its purpose. He noticed you were a skilled hunter, but he also noticed something else. As a boy with fourteen summers, you must surely have some idea of what it might be by now.”
I hesitated to tell her because I wasn’t sure why she needed to know. If only I could get some idea of her intentions. When she sensed my indecisiveness, she continued her attempt to persuade me. “Lark, you chose to enter this school to master your abilities. If I don’t know what your Spark does, I cannot know how to help you develop it. All you have to do is tell me.”
The idea that I could meet somebody who shared a similar ability, and that I could learn from them, held a certain appeal, but I still didn’t want to tell her. It felt wrong, like I couldn’t trust her with it. Just as I’d made up my mind not to tell her though, I remembered Micha’s reaction.
“I can hear–” I choked on the words, still not completely sure. She sat forward in her seat and held her breath waiting. “I can hear thoughts,” I finally stammered out. Her face lit up in a strange mix of excitement and something else I couldn’t place, but she regained control of herself before she responded.
“Yes, Rhorken had suspected. Very well. Our school operates on a series of rounds which you must complete in order. There is no time scale for which to complete any round, but you may not move forward until you do.”
“How many rounds are there?”
“Ten. The first round for every student is Geography and History, followed by Hand to Hand Combat. From there, your lessons will deviate based on your Spark and your ability to control it.”
“What happens when I finish all of them? Then I’m in the army?”
“Oh no, Lark. Madurai doesn’t have an army. We are protected by Takla Maya. It’s one of the things you will learn in your first round. Those who demonstrate mastery of their Spark during the tenth round are awarded a pendant that signifies their accomplishment.” Her hand went to the yellow pendant at her throat and I wondered the significance of the wasp. Is it the sign of her family? And what did Khea mean when she’d said we were headed to join the army?
“I must tell you, your Spark is quite unique; there are very few Sparks which deal with the mind. We call a person with your abilities a Reader. I think you can imagine how others might react if you told them what you can do, so I would implore you to keep your true Spark a secret. Publicly, you will join the Trackers rate, but you will receive private lessons in the mastery of your Reading. Do you understand?” I could only swallow and nod as I tried to process all of it.
“You and I are going to do great things, Lark,” she said with a smile as she spun her pendant between her fingers. I couldn’t imagine how we’d do something so grandiose, and all I could think was ‘we are?’
“From here, you’ll meet with Avis. He will be your mentor during your time here at Myxini, and you will answer to him–always. Today he will show you to your quarters and acquaint you with the layout of the school. Tomorrow your studies begin.” At once, she rose to open the door and signaled me to leave. She didn’t give me a chance to ask where to find Avis before she slammed the door shut behind me. At least I’ll have time to get back to Khea and Micha.
I managed my way to the common room, but inside, Micha sat alone. When he saw me, his thoughts turned to a man who’d introduced himself as the Master of the school and before leaving with Khea.
“What did she say?” he asked.
“Just explained how the school works, asked about my senses. I’m sure they’re doing the same with Khea now.” In fact, I wasn’t sure at all; just the thought of her alone in the school made my stomach churn.
“I bet they were impressed. You think they’
ll call me soon?” Poor, sweet Micha. So concerned with pleasing them. I could understand, though. He came to make his family proud; why wouldn’t he want to satisfy them?
“Micha. You can’t tell anyone–”
“Of course not, I would never.” I was hit almost instantly with a wave of resolve, and I could tell he’d carry my secret to the grave. I doubted I’d ever know a more trustworthy friend.
“Which of you is Lark?” We both turned to see a young man in the doorway. He looked back and forth between the two of us. Good luck, Micha said silently to me before I answered.
“I’m Lark.”
“Fuck, come on then.” Seriously? I wasn’t surprised to find I couldn’t hear his thoughts, though; it was an annoyance that made me wonder whether I really belonged at school. Not to mention his attitude sucks.
I followed behind the man I figured was Avis. He was younger than I thought he would be, only twenty or so summers, but his stride was purposeful and he seemed to want nothing to do with me. His dark hair looked long, though he kept it tied up, and both his shirt and pants were made of the same light-grey fabric. Unlike the Headmistress, or Rhorken, he didn’t wear a pendant, and I could only assume that meant he had yet to earn it.
Avis led me down a new set of stone corridors for at least twenty minutes, which gave me a far better idea of the enormity of Myxini. The walls shared the same grey tone as the floors, though they were dressed largely in tapestries that depicted famous events, such as the fall of the Hurgadan King during the Third Wars. It was a proud moment for Madurai–back when we had those.
The corridor narrowed and each side became stippled with doors. Boys walked here or there, and the hall seemed to continue forever. It made me wonder just how many students lived there, but based on the length of the hall and the number of doors, it had to be quite a few.
Avis stopped in front of a random door and pushed it open. “This is your room. Your coverings are in the drawer. You’ll wear them every day, do you hear me?” His words were laced with contempt.
What did I do? I was so taken aback by his tone that I couldn’t even think to reply. I could only stare, and wonder about his anger. His fist came out of nowhere, and threw me to the ground.
“Did you fucking hear me?”
“What’s your problem?” I managed to say, though my jaw felt like it had caught fire. A second punch landed on my cheekbone, and I lost sight of the world for a moment. How can this be happening?
Rough hands grabbed the collar of my shirt and gruffly lifted me from the floor. “You’re here to listen, boy. Now, you’ll wear your coverings every day. Do you understand?” He spoke slowly, as if I was simple, and his voice shook with hatred. I nodded in consent, for fear my words would reveal my resentment.
Avis helped me to my feet and continued on with the tour as if nothing happened. I walked behind him, and prodded my cheek. Already swelling. Great. It throbbed painfully, and I knew it wouldn’t look any better than it felt by the end of the day.
My heart sank when I realized what it would mean for my future. The one person I was supposed to obey wholeheartedly hated me for reasons I could not understand. My anger soared when I thought that Khea’s mentor might treat her the same way. Is that how things work here? In the short time I’d been with Avis, he made me re-question why I’d ever decided to come.
Thankfully, the rest of the tour was relatively short, courtesy of my mentor’s distaste for my presence. He left me in the dining hall with instructions to “be ready to start Round One in the morning.”
Fifty or so students sat around the dining hall, and it seemed as if each wore a different color. Large grey stones gave the space a cool feel, but large braziers in the corners filled the air with heat. Smells of cooking meat, spices, and hot bread mixed in a mouth-watering aroma that was a stark contrast to the chill from Avis.
If I ever doubted my abilities to hear thoughts, that moment washed it away. The sheer volume of thoughts, and the strength of some of them, overwhelmed me instantly. I felt deaf, and my bruised head swirled even more. It was impossible to make out any single thought; there were just too many of them. With nothing else to do but try to ignore the voices, I approached the window where a woman stood, ready to serve bread and stew.
“Good afternoon, ma’am,” I said, with no clue if there was a process I was supposed to follow. Thankfully she was strong minded and, due our close proximity, her thoughts came out loud and clear. I was a skinny, deprived boy who wasn’t worth the time, and she wasn’t even sure why I was let inside. I began to back away before she yelled in a thick Hurgadan accent, “Who do ya’ think ya’ are, comin’ into my kitchen? Git.”
It’s my clothes, I realized as she waved me away angrily. I needed to put on the coverings I’d been issued. When I ran off, many eyes were on me, but I was glad at least that many more were not. I practically dove inside when I found my door, thirty-second from the dining hall, on the right.
Alone in my room, I took the time to evaluate at my new home, despite how much I suddenly despised being there. The bed was draped with a navy blue comforter and was large enough for four of me. The mattress itself was fully stuffed with feathers. The frame was forged of iron, with a large M on the headboard that I assumed stood for Myxini, though I still had no idea what that meant.
The bedframe alone would have been enough to trade for a house and additional land back home. It would have changed my parents’ lives completely. And to think, there are likely hundreds like it.
As Avis had said, several sets of clothes were placed in the drawers of the oak dresser, dark green tops to go with brown bottoms. I laid my bow and quiver against the stone wall in the corner then folded and put away the clothes I wore from home. I wished I still had my father’s ring to place there as well. He would be so disappointed if he knew.
I returned to the dining hall and observed the other students: where they got their bowls, what they said to the woman, where they sat. The magnitude of thoughts in the room was enough to significantly distract me, but I managed to get an idea of what it would take to get some food.
I managed to mimic what I’d seen the other students do, grabbing a tray, plate, and some silverware from a table in the corner, and stood in line. The woman stared at me for a long moment, as if she wanted to decide whether or not to toss me out, but poured me a bowl of stew all the same and sent me on my way. By then, I came to the last part. Where do I sit? Everyone seemed to be part of their own little group, but I didn’t see Khea or Micha anywhere, so I sat at one of a few empty tables. It’s better this way, I doubt I could carry a conversation for long anyway. I’d barely had time to enjoy the hearty potato stew–the woman might have been an old bag, but she knew how to cook–when I was put to the test.
“So you’re a Tracker?” A boy said as he sat across from me.
“Huh?”
“Your coverings are dark green. That’s the color of a Tracker.” I noticed he must have been a Tracker as well, but the concentration of thoughts all around me made me unsure which were his. “I’m Jhoma. Round Three Tracker. You?” As he spoke he pointed to two black strips of fabric that wrapped around his left sleeve.
“Uh, Lark. I’ll start Round One tomorrow.”
“You haven’t even started yet? Damn you’re fresh! Who’s your mentor?”
I sighed when I was forced to remember, “Avis.”
“Man, that sucks. No one’s graduated from Round Ten with Avis, as far as I know.”
“He doesn’t look that old. How many students could he have had?”
“If you burn out your students as fast as he does, you have time for a lot. Sorry to hear that, man. Where you from anyways?”
“Just a village.” A fishing village on the west coast that is too insignificant to even make it on the map. The discord in my head at least helped to block the unpleasant memories of home. I didn’t want to think about it since I had started to learn how little success I was l
ikely to have at Myxini.
“Hey, don’t be so down. Give it a few days, and–you know what, if you need help, just come by and I’ll do what I can. My door has a little piece of red fabric tucked between the stones. Can’t miss it.”
Jhoma stood and moved to put his bowl on another table that was stacked high with dishes. It seemed like he had eaten quickly, but in reality I just ate that slowly. It took considerable concentration to finish my soup and head back to my room. Thankfully, it was far enough from the dining hall to offer some escape.
After an hour of boredom, I was too frustrated to stay put any longer, so I decided to search for Khea and Micha. Hopefully they’d fared better than I had, and hopefully they weren’t in the dining hall. I didn’t want to spend more time there than absolutely necessary.
If I knew Micha at all, he would be with the animals, so I headed for the only ones I could sense. I wasn’t as nearly skilled as Micha, but they were clear enough to point me in the right direction. I found the stables on the southern side of the grounds fairly quickly.
Sure enough, Micha stood in dark green coverings like my own and stroked the nose of a horse. “Micha,” I shouted. I remembered how I must have looked when he saw me and his thoughts became concerned. “My mentor and I got off on the wrong foot,” I explained. A bit of an understatement, but oh well.
“Really? I like mine a lot.” Micha pulled up the image of a middle-aged man named Edmon. He’d be tutored in his abilities to track and communicate with animals. From what I could tell, Edmon was kind-hearted, and Micha was excited to learn from him. That’s how it’s supposed to be.
“He seems great,” I said honestly.
“Have you seen Khea?” he asked me, though he thought it well before he spoke aloud. I was more than a little disappointed; I had hoped he would be able to tell me where she was.
“No, you’re the first I’ve seen. Did she go back to the common room after I left?” Micha shook his head. She never came back. His curiosity about where she was and what type of Spark she had paled in comparison to my relentless fear for her safety. Where could she be?