The Buried Symbol (The Ruins of Issalia Book 1)

by Jeffrey L. Kohanek

  The girl at the table smiled at Brock. “Welcome to the Academy. I need your name please.”

  “Brock. Um…Brock Talenz. T-A-L-E-N-Z.” He spelled it out for her.

  She flipped through a stack of papers. Her finger scanned the sheets until it neared the bottom of the past page.

  “Here it is. It looks like you were a late addition.” She turned to the boy behind her. “Boys’ Wing, room 1099.”

  The boy turned and ran to a cart. Rows of pegs filled the cart, each holding a room key.

  The girl handed Brock a lightly filled pack marked with the rune of Issal.

  “Here’s your student pack. It has some information and supplies inside.”

  The boy returned with a key looped through a leather cord. He handed the key to Brock. “Here’s your key. You’ll find your room at the end of that hall.” He pointed to Brock’s right.

  “Thank you.” Brock looped the leather cord over his neck and shouldered the pack.

  He headed down the hall, following other boys heading the same direction. This was his first time down this particular hallway. Similar to the other hallways, doors, glowlamps, and tapestries adorned the corridor walls.

  The hallway narrowed, now lined by single doors on each side, set in regular intervals. He glanced through an open door to see a student sitting on a bed, digging through his pack. Beside the door was the number 1015. He had a ways to go yet.

  As he continued down the long corridor, the traffic before him dwindled as other boys found their rooms. He soon found himself alone and nearing the end.

  Just beyond his room, a set of double doors stood open. He peeked through, finding that they led to a large round room with a spiral stone stairwell in the center. Along the rounded walls of the lounge were clusters of sofas, chairs, and tables.

  Brock stepped back to his door, pulling the cord with his key over his head. He unlocked it and stepped inside. The small room contained two beds, one along each of the side walls. A desk sat between the beds, under a window along the far wall. A wardrobe stood along the wall next to the door.

  Setting his two packs on a bed, he opened the wardrobe and found two blue cloaks hanging inside. He pulled the smaller cloak from its hook and secured it around his neck. As he looked down at the cloak on his shoulders, a deep voice sounded.

  “Hello.”

  Brock turned to see a hulking figure blocking the doorway. The figure stepped forward, the light from the window revealing a blonde-haired boy about Brock’s age. He stood more than a head taller than Brock, his shoulders so wide that he had to twist to fit through the door. He held out a massive hand.

  “Um. I’m Cameron.” His blue eyes focused on the floor, flashing upward for brief moments. “People call me Cam.”

  Brock shook his hand, wincing at the larger boy’s firm grip.

  “I’m Brock. It’s nice to you meet you, Cam,” he replied. “I assume you’re my new roommate then?”

  “Um…Yeah. I guess,” Cam said.

  Brock reached into the wardrobe and handed the larger cloak to Cameron. “Here’s your cloak. Welcome to the Academy, Cam.”

  A grin stretched across Cam’s face as he held the cloak up. “Thanks, Brock.”

  Cam continued grinning at the cloak. Brock felt the same way.

  CHAPTER 39

  Brock and Cameron settled into their new abode, each claiming a bed without contention. They were soon dressed in the academy wear found in the drawers of the wardrobe.

  Brock attempted conversations with Cam a few times, but they soon died out. For such a large boy, Cam was shy and seemed unsure of himself.

  Some of those short discussions yielded information. Brock learned that Cameron was from Nor Torin, the capital of the province north of Kantaria. Much like Brock’s home city of Kantar, Nor Torin was a busy port city on the Indigo Ocean. He also discovered that Cameron’s father had been a paladin in the Holy Army, now retired and acting as the captain of the guard for the city prelate.

  It was late morning when a student popped his head through the open doorway. “Meet in the dining hall in fifteen minutes.”

  Brock was thankful to have something to do. Just waiting idly in his room was agonizing.

  They both stood and walked out the door, pulling it closed behind. Brock locked the door and looped the key back around his neck. At that moment, two boys exited the room across the hall. Brock gave them a nod in greeting.

  “Hello.”

  The first boy was tall and thin, his dark hair combed back. He nodded in return before heading down the hall. The other boy locked the door and turned to greet them.

  Standing a hair taller than Brock, the boy had a thick mop of dark hair, combed to one side. He had a thin, non-muscular frame and wore rectangular-shaped spectacles. Flashing a goofy smile, he put out a hand. Brock grabbed it, and the boy shook it vigorously.

  “Hi guys. I’m Benedict. Benedict Hedgewick.” The boy rocked his shoulders and jutted his elbows out as he talked. “Everyone calls me Benny.”

  He shook Cam’s hand. The larger boy nodded but didn’t say anything.

  Brock remembered hearing that name before. “Hedgewick? I know that name.”

  Benny nodded. “Yes indeed. You might know it from the Hedgewick Knowledge Center, the library here at the Academy. Or perhaps you know it from the histories.”

  Brock nodded, glancing at Cameron, who looked confused. The three boys began walking toward the dining hall as Benny continued his story.

  “My ancestor, Byland Hedgewick, was an influential figure,” Benny said proudly. “He was an important leader at the Academy and was part of the very founding of the Empire.”

  Brock raised his eyebrows. “That’s impressive, Benny. I assume you’ve had other relatives at the Academy then?”

  “Oh, yes. While my father didn’t come to the Academy, most generations of Hedgewicks since Byland had members who trained here.” Benny’s shoulders seemed to shrug involuntarily as he talked. “When my mother became pregnant, my father decided to remain in Selbin and serve the local temple rather than coming here.”

  Brock took the opening to ask a question that was bugging him. “Speaking of age, I hope you don’t mind if I ask, but how old are you, Benny?”

  “I know, I know. I’m a bit old to be a student.” Benny’s face twitched a little as he talked. “You see, my mother died when I was sixteen summers, and I stayed to help my father. He was gravely injured in the same accident, and I stayed to care for him. It left him in a coma for months. The temple healer was able to do a lot for him, but he lost a leg in the accident and that will never come back. Otherwise, he’s mostly recovered. That was five years ago.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about your mother, Benny. I lost mine when I was young. I know how hard it can be,” Brock said.

  Benny nodded. “Thanks, Brock. It’s hard. Sometimes I still think she’s calling me, and I turn to look for her, but it’s just my imagination I guess.” He absently pushed his spectacles up as he spoke.

  Cam’s low voice came from behind, “I’m sorry too, guys. I miss my mother now, and she’s not even dead. She’s just back home in Nor Torin.”

  Brock slowed a step and reached up to clap Cam on the shoulder. “Since we’ve no family here, let’s treat each other like family. You need someone to look out for you, right Cam?”

  Cameron smiled. “Sure.”

  “That means you too, Benny,” Brock said to the quirky boy.

  Benny’s goofy grin returned. “Thanks, guys.” After a few more steps he added, “My father would be amazed. My first day and I already have more friends here than I had back in Selbin.”

  Brock smiled. He liked Benny.

  A crowd of students stood outside the dining hall doors, slowly funneling through. Brock and his friends merged with the others, shuffling their feet in small steps as the cluster inched forward. After a minute, they squeezed through the doors and into chaos.

  Students were milling about in search
of an open seat. The tables near the doors were all claimed, forcing Brock and the others to work their way deeper into the room. After a bit of searching, they found a table with three open spots.

  The loud peal of a bell caused many students to jump. All eyes turned to the source of the noise. The roar of conversation that had preceded the bell dropped to a hushed whisper. A tall figure dressed in a silver cloak and dark gray clothing stood near the student holding the bell. The bald man smiled and raised his hands as he addressed the room.

  “Welcome to the Academy,” he said in a booming voice. “I’m Headmaster Vandermark. I am responsible for your training and well-being while you are here. You will find that we’ve assembled the finest minds in the Empire to instruct you as we identify how you can best serve the Ministry and, in turn, ensure that the Empire continues to thrive.”

  “Today is your orientation day,” he continued. “As a welcome gesture, apprentice-level students will serve you lunch. Enjoy the moment. After today, you’ll be serving meals to the apprentice and adept students for the entirety of your first year,” the man bellowed as he paced around the room.

  After a brief pause, he continued. “Enjoy your meal but do not dally. When you are finished, find your way to the Academy Temple at the rear of the complex. You have one hour. At that time, we will begin your official orientation.”

  The man turned and exited the room with two students trailing close behind.

  Students in white-trimmed cloaks began to filter out of the kitchen with trays of food. A female student placed a tray before Brock. He smiled when he noticed it was Ashland. She gave him a brief nod and the smallest of smiles before returning to the kitchen.

  He looked down at the tray to find a gravy-covered meat pie accompanied by a muffin and a glass of milk. Empty plates and glasses soon occupied the table, the low hum of conversation replacing the sound of forks clinking on plates.

  “That was delicious. I’m stuffed.” Benny leaned back and rubbed his stomach.

  “Yeah. The food here isn’t bad,” Brock replied. He turned toward Cameron, who stared down at his empty plate. “What’s wrong, Cam?”

  “Well, I guess I’m still hungry,” Cam replied.

  Brock smiled and stood. “Let me see what I can do.”

  Looping around the perimeter of the room, he headed for the kitchen. Approaching the long counter that separated him from the kitchen itself, he waved to an old woman with curly gray hair.

  “Excuse me.” Brock held his hand high over his head to get her attention. “I have a large friend who’s still hungry. Do you by chance have some extra food I can bring to him?”

  “Sure, dearie.” The woman went to the rear counter and popped a muffin out of a metal cooking tray. “Here you go.” She handed him a small plate holding the muffin.

  “Thank you,” Brock said with a smile. “I’m Brock. I’m new here.”

  She nodded. “It’s nice to meet you, Brock. I figured you were new when I saw the novice cloak.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “I’m Shirley, the head cook.”

  “Nice to meet you, Shirley.” He backed away. “Thanks again for the muffin.”

  He spun and returned to the dining hall. After setting the muffin in front of Cameron, Brock reclaimed his seat on the bench.

  “Wow. Thanks, Brock.” Cameron took a big bite of the warm pastry.

  “I wonder what happens at orientation,” Benny said.

  Brock shrugged. “I don’t know. But we’re about to find out.”

  CHAPTER 40

  One of the buildings Brock had visited during his evaluation was a temple that he considered impressive. Now that he sat in the real temple, the other seemed pitiful. It was like comparing a lake to the ocean.

  While the smaller temple could seat a couple hundred people, this temple was large enough for thousands. Rows upon rows of benches ran in concentric circles, all facing the dais in the center.

  Sunlight streaming through the glass ceiling shined on a teardrop shaped object suspended below the center of its dome. Light reflecting from the tiny mirrored panels on the teardrop caused prismatic shapes to dance around the huge space.

  Brock’s focus shifted to the dais, raised above the floor of the huge bowl. Five masters draped in purple sat in chairs arranged on the platform. Headmaster Vandermark stood before them, his hands leaning on the glowstone altar as he waited for the students to claim a seat. Vandermark raised his hands to quiet the crowd.

  “Welcome to the Academy, novices.” Though Vandermark stood a good distance away, Brock could hear him clearly.

  “Masters within the Ministry, all former Academy students, hold critical positions throughout the Empire. They lead and guide other members of the Ministry, who guide citizens of the Empire. They build new devices to improve society. They protect our people and our lands by fighting in the Holy Army. They gather, analyze, and share knowledge used to ensure a better future. They set us on our course in life, cure our sicknesses, and heal our wounded.”

  “When these masters leave the Academy, they are commissioned to seek-out future students, but only those who exhibit the highest potential. You sit here today as the fruits of their labor.” His arms swept wide in a flourish. “From across the Empire, you’ve journeyed to become the newest members of this illustrious institution. You are about to begin another journey--not one of physical distance, but one of academic, spiritual, and physical growth.”

  As the headmaster paused, Brock glanced around. All eyes were directed toward the man on the dais.

  “I realize that you know little of what is to come. This is expected. You see, what transpires here is to remain secret. By joining the Academy, you swear to an oath of secrecy. Stay true to your oath and you stay true to Issal.”

  His firm gaze scanned the room before continuing.

  “The five masters sitting here,” he gestured to the men and women seated behind him, “will take the active lead in your first year of education.”

  “Master Varius will be your guide in the ecclesiastic arts.” Upon saying her name, Varius stood and nodded to the crowd.

  “Master Budakis will train you in the arts of the paladin.” The large man stood and thumped a meaty fist to his chest.

  “Master Nindlerod instructs students in the arts of engineering.” The quirky old man stood and waved like a child.

  “Master Pretencia is your expert in hierarchal arts.” The man stood and stared into the crowd with an intense gaze, as if seeking his prey.

  “Master Mae will be your Lore master, instructing you on the history of our Empire.” A small dark-haired woman stood and gave a quick bow.

  Vandermark nodded to the masters before again addressing the students.

  “When you return to your rooms, you’ll each find your personal schedule. Not only will you be learning in the classroom, but you will also be required to do research, work on projects, and refine your skills outside of class. When your first year is complete, you’ll have a basic knowledge of all five ministry arts.”

  Vandermark paused again, allowing this information to sink in.

  “The potential and dedication you exhibit in the coming months are critical to your future. When the year is complete, most of you will be selected by one these masters to join his or her department to continue your training. The remaining students will be assigned positions within temples throughout the Empire, their tenure at the Academy ending after just one year.”

  Brock considered the deceitful nature of his admission. As an Unchosen, would he be able to maintain this charade? Did he have the talent to become a master? Taking a deep breath, he focused on his resolve, burying the doubt. He could not think that way.

  Vandermark continued. “You‘ve been presented an opportunity offered to but a few hundred young adults each year. Dedicate yourself to your training, and we will see you here next year and beyond.”

  “You have the rest of the day to yourself. Relish the freedom. Your training begins at sun up t
omorrow.”

  CHAPTER 41

  It was a beautiful day, marked by the typically pleasant weather of late summer in the mountains. Like many of the students, Brock and his new friends opted to spend time under the sun with their last hours of freedom.

  Brock lay on his back in the long grass of the lawn, watching the puffy clouds floating southward. Benny lay a few feet away, describing what he saw in the shape of each cloud.

  “That one looks like a big fish. Maybe a Sinnowfish. Those fish spawn downriver from Lake Selbin. They can grow to be three feet long, you know.”

  Cameron sat with his back against a large tree. “Fish sounds good. I’m hungry.”

  Brock laughed. “I think that’s the fifth time you’ve told us, Cam. The schedule said dinner at sunset. Well, it’ll be sunset in less than an hour.”

  Cam grunted in response. He didn’t seem to talk much unless he was hungry. Even then, it was only to state that he was hungry.

  “What do you think Hierarchist training will involve?” Benny asked as he watched the clouds inch across the sky.

  “I don’t know, Benny,” Brock replied. “From what I can tell, Hierarchy has something to do with the governing of people and dealing with laws.”

  “Ugh. That sounds dreadful,” Benny complained. “I wish I could just focus on Engineering. It’s going to be so amazing!” Benny sat upright, the energy level in his voice rising. “I’m excited to have access to the school resources. I plan to invent something spectacular, something that will make me famous.”

  “You must be good with numbers and that kind of stuff then?” Brock asked.

  “Oh, yes,” Benny replied. “To support my father, I worked as a clerk for a counting house. After less than a year, the owner told me I was the best clerk he’d ever seen. Some of the other clerks had been there over twenty years.”

  “Not long after I started, he realized I could do figures pretty well. He soon had me doing the analysis and proposals for business investments, working probability equations and forecast projections.” Benny finished with a proud smile on his face.