Locksher waved his hand over the sheet of paper, drying it instantly, then folded it in half. He pulled a cylindrical metal tube out of his robes and used it to write a short message on the back of the paper. He handed it to Fist.
“Take this to Wizardess Landra. She is in charge of assigning classes to new cadets. The faculty offices are in the Rune Tower, right across from the library.”
“Yes! Okay! Thank you, Wizard Locksher!” Fist said. He looked to Justan. “What classes should I pick?”
“Just choose whatever interests you,” Justan said. “And don’t forget to call the wizards ‘professor’. As a cadet, that is the proper term.”
“Are you coming with me?” Fist asked.
“I can’t. Not this time. I’m supposed to meet with Professor Beehn.” But if you have any questions about it, just ask me through the bond.
“Okay,” Fist said and headed out the door. “Come, Squirrel,” he said and Squirrel darted out the door after him.
“I hope they don’t give him a hard time about keeping Squirrel around,” Justan said. “Maybe I should have a talk with Wizardess Landra about it later.”
Locksher chuckled. “You sound like a parent sending their child off to their first day of school,”
“I kind of feel that way,” Justan admitted. “When Fist and I first bonded, he was like a child in many ways, with so much to learn. But he learns fast. People here underestimate his intelligence because of the earnest way he talks. He is going to surprise a lot of professors with how much he understands.”
“I hope so. I was truly surprised with how much magic he had. I was expecting a blip. I barely made my shield strong enough for the blast,” Locksher said. “I came close to loosing an eyebrow.”
“Do you want to know the strangest thing about this?” Justan said. “Here we are, talking about what classes Fist should take and meanwhile, the entire Battle Academy is patrolling the walls of the Mage School waiting for a possible enemy attack. It’s made it hard for me to be as excited for Fist as I should be.”
“It is an odd juxtaposition,” Locksher agreed. “But we have to go on with life, don’t we? Otherwise we do what? Sit here sharpening swords for who knows how long? The students here couldn’t handle an existence like that. “
“I know you’re right,” Justan said. “Still it feels strange.”
“Are you heading over to Beehn’s now?” Locksher said, changing the subject.
“I should. I told him I could come over right afterwards.”
“Would you mind if I walked over with you?” The wizard asked.
“Of course.” Justan said.
Locksher blinked in surprise. “Oh . . . Alright then. I’ll see you later.” He turned to leave the room.
“No, wait,” Justan said before Locksher could leave. “I meant ‘of course’ as in ‘of course you can come with me.’”
“Oh. Good,” Locksher said. “You should be more clear about such things, Edge. It is best to avoid confusion when one can.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Professor.”
“What is it that you and Beehn are doing anyway?” Locksher asked. “I noticed that you’ve been spending quite a lot of time there since we arrived.”
“He . . . thinks that he can unleash my offensive magic,” Justan said. “I had decided that it was just the way my magic worked-.”
“Which is a perfectly reasonable theory,” Locksher said. “Everyone’s magic is different and though I haven’t yet been able prove it, I am sure it has something to do with variations in one’s bloodlines. Why, I once knew a mage that could only heal broken bones. All other injuries were beyond him. In the end, he became a specialist and would assist other wizards when a particularly difficult case came in. I believe he lives in Alberri now. Great rock climbing there. And many tall buildings. Lots of ways for people to fall.”
“Yes, well, Professor Beehn feels that my inability to use my magic offensively comes from a block similar to the one he had before the golem attacked,” Justan said. “He has me meditating and focusing on my spine. He’s convinced that’s where his block was.” Justan’s face fell. “He has me focus for hours while he plays soothing music on a flute. I don’t think there’s anything to find.”
Locksher shrugged. “It couldn’t hurt I suppose, though I would think that sort of block would reside in the mind. If it is indeed a block, but I have been surprised before. Please let me know if there’s any progress, would you?”
“Yeah. Sure,” Justan said.
“Shall we go, then?” Locksher asked. They left the room and headed down the corridor of the Testing Center together.
“You said you had something you wanted to discuss.” Justan said. “Is it about the Scralag? At one point you had suggested trying to unleash it and talk to it.”
“Oh, no,” Locksher said, with a nervous shake of his head. “Not now, during the siege. Can you imagine if it were to get loose and go on a rampage? Not a good idea. No, I wanted to speak to you regarding the prophet.”
“The prophet?”
“Yes, it’s been bothering me ever since the meeting. You know, when we learned that he had left.”
“I did think it was strange that he left us while we were still under siege,” Justan said.
“It’s not that. The prophet is busy,” the wizard replied. “I would expect him to come and go as he needed.”
“Okay.” Justan said, though he didn’t necessarily agree. “But what could the prophet have to do that would be more important than helping the only people left that could stand up against the Dark Prophet’s servants?”
“I can’t say as I know. I’ve never understood his methods or reasoning and he almost never explains himself.” Locksher replied as they exited the building. They turned and headed down a side path. “You know, that’s one of the things that has always bothered me about him. That and the fact that his powers don’t make any sense according to the types of magic we know . . . and the fact that no matter how little sense it makes at the time, he somehow always ends up making the right decision.”
Justan nodded in understanding. “I can see how that would frustrate you. But what can I say? He’s the prophet. He’s like a force of nature. You can’t control what he does. You just have to deal with what he says when he comes.”
“Yes! That’s what I’m dealing with right now,” Locksher said emphatically. “I keep wondering what I’m supposed to learn from his visit. I have been analyzing everything he said since we came through that portal and a few things have become evident to me. Especially about the meeting the day we returned.”
Justan slowed his steps. “You mean when he told us about Stardeon and Mellinda?”
“Yes, exactly. Now one thing I know about the prophet is that he is amazingly efficient with his time. He does nothing without a specific purpose in mind,” Locksher said, both eyebrows raised as he spoke. “Think about the people he invited to that meeting.”
“Yes?” Justan asked.
“He didn’t invite any of the leadership. Well, except for Master Latva I suppose. Instead, he brought all the bonding wizards and their bonded. He explained why he had all of you there. Called you his ‘champions’.”
“I think when he said ‘champions’ he was speaking of everyone in the hall that day, you included.” Justan said.
“Perhaps. That is unclear. But at the least, he explained the reasons why he invited everyone there except for two of us. Myself and Jhonate,” Locksher replied.
“But you asked him about that,” Justan reminded him. “He said something like he ‘felt impressed to bring you’ or something.”
“Actually Jhonate was the one who asked him,” Locksher said. “She said that some of us weren’t bonded and he gave the reasons that he had invited Lenui and Zambon there. But when it came to Jhonate and I, what he said was, ‘this tale will affect the two of you most directly’.”
“That’s right. I remember that now,” Justan said. “But I left
before he finished the story. I guess I assumed he had explained while I was gone. Fist didn’t mention anything about it when he filled me in on the details, but-.”
“That’s likely because the prophet didn’t explain,” Locksher replied. “It bothered me, so I tracked him down later that night. When I asked him why he had felt that I needed to be there, he told me it was because I was Stardeon’s heir.”
Justan stopped as they neared Wizard Beehn’s door. “Stardeon’s heir? What does that mean?”
Locksher grimaced and looked around to make sure no one was in hearing distance. “I . . . it’s somewhat of an uncomfortable secret, so I would ask you not to mention it to anyone, but suffice it to say, that Stardeon is one of my ancestors. I didn’t believe it at first, but he said that my family line came from the child Stardeon had with his first wife. The thing that finally convinced me was a hereditary trait that Stardeon and I both share. You see, like myself, Stardeon didn’t have a primary elemental talent. He was equally powerful in all four elements.”
“You’re as powerful as Stardeon?” Justan asked in surprise. He had no idea Locksher was that strong.
“No-no. I’m not as powerful as Stardeon. Dear me, he had the kind of power that comes along once in a millennia. No, I’m just above average at best. Our commonality is that we were both born with equal levels of strength in all four elements. There is only one family line with that particular trait and I happen to be the last surviving member.” Locksher frowned. “That I know of anyway.”
“So why is that such a secret?” Justan asked.
“Most of my ancestors were of, lets say, an unsavory nature,” the wizard said uncomfortably. “It’s not something I’m proud of. In fact, in order to get into the Mage School, I had to change my name.”
“You have a family name then? You’re a noble?” Justan asked.
“No. My family had their rank rescinded over a century ago,” Locksher said.
“You’re a Blatche?” Justan exclaimed. In Dremaldria’s history, only two noble houses had been stripped of rank and only one had been stripped because of their magic. The Blatche’s had produced some of the most evil wizards in the country’s history.
Locksher placed a hand over Justan’s mouth and looked around to make sure no one had heard. “I told you it’s a secret. A secret! Do you know what that word means?”
“Sorry,” Justan said, though he was still shocked. “What does it mean that you are Stardeon’s heir then? Does the prophet expect you to do something?”
“I don’t know!” Locksher said. “I’m still trying to figure that out. It’s been driving me crazy.”
“So . . . Why are you telling me about this?” Justan asked. “I mean, it’s fascinating information for sure, and I’m flattered that you would want to share it with me, but why?”
“It’s because of your betrothed,” the wizard explained and this time Justan was the one looking around to see that no one heard. “The prophet never explained why it was important that Jhonate be there. I was hoping that you might have an idea.”
“Well,” Justan thought about it. “Jhonate is from Malaroo. Mellinda was from Malaroo.”
“Yes but it has to be more than that. Remember the vision of Mellinda the prophet gave us? Jhonate has the same eyes. The same nose. The same hair.”
Justan frowned. “So you think she might be descended from Mellinda, like you are from Stardeon? But the prophet didn’t mention Mellinda having any children.”
Locksher nodded. “True, but the prophet never finished Mellinda’s tale. He said he would tell us the rest at a later date. We know what happened up to the point she left Stardeon to learn from the Dark Prophet, but there is a large gap of time between that point and the point where she was imprisoned under the tree.”
“I see,” Justan said thoughtfully. He wondered how Jhonate would feel about this. “What do you want me to do with this information?”
“I tried to speak with her about it, but Jhonate refused to listen. She said that this was a matter between the prophet and herself.”
“Ah.” Justan nodded, then looked Locksher directly in the eyes. “You realize that she’ll say the same thing to me.”
“But perhaps you can get her to think about it. Like I said before, the prophet does nothing without reason and if he has a specific role in mind for Jhonate, she should be prepared.”
“Well, I appreciate your concern and I promise to bring it up to her,” Justan said. “But if I know Jhonate, she’s already been thinking about it.”
“Of course I have thought about it!” Jhonate snapped. “The idea that I might be descended from that witch is a terrible stain on my family!”
It was just after dark and the two of them had hidden themselves in one of the guard outposts that were spaced here and there along the base wall. It was sparsely furnished; basically just a tiny room with a field stove and a cot in case a guard wanted to nap between patrols. Before the siege they were rarely used. Now there were so many guards on the walls, they had been lucky to find one unoccupied.
“I told him you would say that,” Justan said and the glower on her face made him want to kiss her again. It was strange. At one time, he had feared that glower. Now he was fond of it. “Locksher was just saying that you should be prepared in case the prophet has plans for you.”
“I am quite sure he does,” Jhonate said. “I only hope his plans include me destroying that creature! At the very least, I intend to be there when it happens, whether I am descended from her or not.”
“I understand how you feel.” Justan felt the same way about Ewzad Vriil. But moments alone with Jhonate had been so rare, he didn’t want to spend them talking about their enemies. He pulled her in for a kiss instead. He was relieved when she didn’t resist. She wrapped her arms tightly around him instead. He breathed in her familiar scent. It was earthy and clean. He found it intoxicating. Justan didn’t want the kiss to end. He never did, but she broke it off and put a warning finger to his lips.
“We must not become too ardent, Justan,” Jhonate said breathlessly. She swallowed, bringing herself under control. “If we lose control of ourselves even once, my father will consider our betrothal nullified.”
“But-.”
“And he will most likely kill you.”
Justan blinked. She brought up her father’s temper often. It was as if she were reminding herself. “Jhonate, I respect your people’s traditions, but it is going to be a very long time until we’ll be able to get your father’s permission to marry.”
She gave him a questioning look. “That is no excuse for impropriety.”
“Impropriety?” That was the kind of word used only by high nobility. Then again, Justan supposed she was high nobility. Or at least it’s what he had gathered. “I’m not suggesting we do anything improper. The thought hadn’t crossed my mind,” Justan said. It was only a minor lie. To do so would be to disrespect her, and he would never do that, but his dreams weren’t always so honorable.
“It had not?” she said, raising an eyebrow. She laid a hand on his chest and he could feel the heat of her hand around his icy scar. “It has crossed mine.”
Justan’s heart beat harder. “W-well-.”
“It is perfectly natural to have such thoughts about one’s love, Justan,” she clarified. Her cheeks reddened and she removed her hand. “However, to act on those feelings would be to destroy any chances that we could be together.”
“I-I wouldn’t want that to happen,” Justan said. “What I was suggesting was . . . What if we married here?” Her eyes widened and he added, “I’m not saying right now, but after this siege is over.”
“No,” she said firmly. “My father would not acknowledge a marriage done outside our tradition. Besides, it would shame him in front of the other families. I have done so enough as it is.”
“Who is your father, Jhonate?” Justan asked. “I know you don’t usually speak of it, but I should know. Is he the king of your people?”
/>
“We do not have kings.” Jhonate said. She thought on it a moment and sighed. “Very few people know this. Only your father and the other members of the Academy Council are aware and I asked them not to speak of it. I . . . did not tell you, Justan, because I did not want you to think differently of me.”
“It couldn’t possibly change my feelings,” Justan said, placing his arm around her. He kissed her cheek. “I would love you if you were poor or rich, if you had the most detestable family in the world, or if you had none at all.”
“Why?” she said, looking into his eyes. “Why do you love me? When I trained you, I was . . . stern. Then we didn’t see each other for so long. Why?”
“You changed my life. That year we spent together, sure I hated you in the beginning, but that turned to respect. Then at some point, I decided that you were my closest friend. You pushed me in the ways I needed. Why that turned into how I feel now, I don’t know. I didn’t understand how I felt until after we were apart.”
“I knew how I felt earlier,” she replied.
“But why? I was an ungainly idiot back then,” Justan said.
“Do not disrespect yourself!” She punched him in the shoulder so hard his fingers tingled. “That could not be farther from the truth. You were ungainly perhaps, but never an idiot. You were too smart. You relied on your brains too much. It was when you started to trust me that I first began to feel for you. The day you rescued me from that . . . that bardatchi, I was so humiliated that I had to be saved by my own pupil.” Her eyes softened. “You saw my weakness, but you did not hold it over me. You helped me hold onto my dignity. That is when I knew I loved you.”
Justan was astonished. “I wish I had known how you felt then. I might have-.”
“You might have done what? Would you have stayed in Reneul? Given up your chances at entering the academy? Forsaken learning your magical talent? For me?” She shook her head. “I would never have allowed it.”
“Yes, I know you’re right. And I probably would have chosen to go anyway. But all the same, it would have been nice to know.”
The Bowl of Souls: Book 05 - Mother of the Moonrat Page 17