What am I supposed to do? Domadred won’t let me ask about Luka, and how am I supposed to broach the topic of my pendant? Beck told me to tread carefully, and with everyone so high strung, I am left unable to say a word. Aleksi squeezed his fist and winced as his Rune’s tendrils burrowed deeper into his flesh. Damn you, Rudra, what have you done? Where are you?
Although Aleksi was quite hungry, it did not seem to be mealtime, so he sat at his small desk and lit the lamp. He was seated close enough to his cloak that he could faintly see the outline of the pendant through its pocket. Aleksi let out another sigh.
There was a strange feeling nagging at him, but he could not quite place it. Pulling out the leather-bound notebook from the night prior, he tried to conjure up the images from his dreams. His recollection of the previous night seemed murky, however, and he could not clearly recall what had happened. But when he opened his notebook and saw the drawing of the young woman’s eyes, the feeling of her came flooding back in an emotive rush.
Yes, how could I forget her?
Even in his dreams it had been hard to clearly see the girl, so when he tried to picture her now, all that came was her shining blue gaze. And while the young woman’s face was unclear, the feeling of her was vibrant within his heart. It was almost as if instead of seeing the girl, he felt her.
Suddenly, a knock came at the door. Jumping out of his chair, Aleksi slammed the sketchbook shut. “Green Eyes,” an older man said, “supper is ready—beef, steamed carrots, and potatoes.”
Aleksi unlocked and slowly opened the door. Outside stood a sailor he had not met. By his look, Aleksi assumed the man was a kitchen hand.
“Thank you,” Aleksi said, as his stomach growled and the smell of warm food wafted into his cabin. The man nodded and gave Aleksi the tray before turning and walking back down the hallway without another word.
Aleksi relocked the door, slid his notebook across the desk, and set the food down. After saying a prayer, he began eating and reopened his notebook. Aleksi flipped through the pages between bites and saw countless renditions of her eyes. Each showed different emotions, but they all had the same depth and majestic beauty. However, none of the images contained a completed picture of her face—none captured the totality of her enigmatic essence.
Aleksi had grown up drawing. It was his favorite artistic pursuit outside of wielding his blade. But these pictures were different; this girl was different. She was no figment of his imagination and no idle fancy of his mind. There was something disquieting about her stare, something which spoke to him through her youthful eyes. Deep down in Aleksi’s heart, he knew this girl was real.
After finishing his meal, Aleksi unlocked the door and placed the tray in the hallway. He closed and relocked the door, then lowered the desk lamp’s flame and sat on the smooth wood of the floor. Aleksi felt his heart crave to look back at the pictures, but he knew he must regain himself. For no matter who she was, or how badly he wanted to know her, Aleksi could not lose control of his own mind.
Craving is the path of ignorance and suffering—not the path of a Master.
Besides, wherever she was, Aleksi knew she was not here, and if he ever wanted to find her, he must maintain focus on the path that was laid out before him by Rudra.
Taking off his leather boots and thick wool socks, Aleksi folded his legs and rested both feet on opposite knees. Aleksi repositioned his sword and laid his hands in his lap, palms up. Looking out through his porthole, he made note of the location of the moons. Aleksi then half closed his eyes and cleared his mind.
Finding the gentle ocean of emptiness in his breath, Aleksi focused on the circular pattern of his breathing. It flowed in and out, and his mind followed its rhythmic waves. The young woman’s presence did not leave him, but after some time, it no longer agitated his mind. Achieving one pointed concentration, Aleksi just sat.
A good while later, Aleksi opened his eyes and unfolded his legs. They were stiff and he had to massage feeling back into his calves. As his feet tingled like a million tiny needle pricks, he looked out through the porthole to the vast star-laden sky above. The moons had moved considerably.
Standing, Aleksi tightened his belt and repositioned his sword. Unlocking and opening his door, he looked down the hallway. His tray was gone. Seeing no one outside, Aleksi silently walked down the hall to the washroom. Stalking down the hallway at night reminded him of his many years living in the Masters’ Academy dormitories. Aleksi had not liked being seen then and desired it even less now. After he finished, he reentered his room and locked the door.
Removing his blade from his belt, Aleksi propped it up in the corner near his hammock. As he undressed, his eyes went to his sketchbook. Pushing away the desire to flip through the pages, Aleksi snuffed out his lamp and walked to his hammock. Lying back on its netting, he wrapped himself in a thin blanket and looked out through the porthole window.
Suddenly, images of the fighting in Mindra’s Square flashed before his eyes—fire, blood, and dead bodies. Why the images assaulted his mind now, Aleksi did not know—but lying on the flagstones in a pool of blood, the soldier with a sword embedded in his forehead stared into Aleksi’s eyes accusingly. As the man’s fingers futilely clutched at the cold steel in his skull, Aleksi’s stomach churned and he felt the Rune embedded in his bandaged hand painfully erupt to life.
Aleksi felt excruciating pain as the growing tendrils of his Rune slithered under his skin and penetrated deeper into the nerves of his arm. Light streamed out from the Rune and Aleksi clenched his fist close to his chest in desperation. The youth did all he could to calm himself and push the violent memories away, but the bloody images would not relent. His arm burned with a fiery fury as another wave of nausea passed over him. Trying to rely on his training to calm his body, Aleksi focused his gaze on the sky in hopes of quelling his growing torment.
Understanding suddenly sprang into Aleksi’s mind. Outside the porthole, the moons shone brightly and Aleksi desperately raised his head to get a clearer view. As the moonshine fell on his face, the pain that burned through his body, and the memories that clutched at his heart, were slightly subdued. Aleksi triumphantly thrust his glowing arm into the silver shaft of moonlight and felt the divine blessing of the two former High Arkai Rahu and Ketu slowly bestow itself upon him.
Concentrating his mind on the moons’ pure radiance, Aleksi felt both the carnage of Mindra’s Haven and the fury of his Rune subside. Doing all he could to open himself to the blessing, Aleksi mentally recited the story of Rahu and Ketu—the story of Terra’s moons and the god who had ignited them innumerable ages ago.
Legend told that it was Rahu and Ketu’s love and forbidden union that had destroyed the balance of celestial power, thereby shattering the Arkai’s divine accord held since time immemorial. For according to myth, Rahu and Ketu’s union had birthed the omnipotent deity of Numina. An otherworldly war had then been waged over the infant god, plunging all of creation into bitter darkness. The battle between the corrupted Dark Arkai and the pure Arkai of Light had raged on, but in the end, the corrupted Dark Ones grew too many in number. At the brink of defeat, the infant deity Numina had tried to escape with his few remaining Arkai across the vast expanse of stars. The Dark Ones, however, pressed their attack, and just as all was to be lost, Rahu and Ketu sacrificed themselves to enable their holy child’s safe retreat through the cosmos.
After escaping the worst of the Dark Ones’ danger, Numina then created Terra and her many peoples out of lamentation for his slain parents and their eternal sacrifice. Serving as a beacon of hope and rebirth, Terra and her citizens were said to be an homage to love and creation. Sadly, however, much like Numina himself, the peoples of Terra were cursed and pursued by the Dark Ones across the vastness of space. So, to protect his new and vulnerable children, Numina raised the deific bodies of his parents, Rahu and Ketu, high into the sky, where they could watch over Terra in protection and divine benediction. Even in this Modern Age, as Terra soared ever onwa
rd through the endless sea of stars, the Dark Ones were said to still follow close behind as the moons and their Guardians shone out their eternal light and pushed back the ever-approaching darkness and destruction.
The Masters would always finish the story by saying that when the moons were once again united in love, scripture told that Terra’s savior, Kalki, would be born. Upon hearing the Masters recite this, however, Aleksi had always thought it was strange that love both had caused the seemingly eternal struggle between the Arkai yet also was Terra’s only hope for true protection.
How could the thing that caused so many of the High Arkai to fall to darkness and corruption also be the key to Terra’s salvation? Aleksi inspected his Rune-covered arm, no longer paining him so profoundly, in the moonlight. Although its light had subsided, it still glowed softly in the darkness of his cabin. But then again, what do I know of love?
Almost in response, the Rune under his bandage pulsed—this time not with pain, but instead with a soft, pure warmth, much like that of the moonshine itself.
The moons’ light, the drawings of the girl in his notebook, and the images of the blood and death of Mindra’s Haven—it all brought a strange reminiscence to Aleksi’s mind. The recollection of a feeling he had experienced only once before: his most notable memory of Master Lina DeLuth.
Lina had been one of Aleksi’s empowerment teachers at the Academy. She was the only person, other than Nataraja, that could separate Aleksi from his past. She was able to see beyond Aleksi’s Rune and his association with Rudra, knowing that behind it all he was nothing more than a scared little boy. Both gentle and kind, Lina had been an advocate for Aleksi in his early years, but some time ago, she had been sent out on a mission to hunt for fallen Masters and had never returned. Deep down, Aleksi felt she was still alive. Where she was, however, and why she had not come back to the Academy were just more mysteries.
Aleksi’s clearest memory of Lina was a conversation they had had one night after he had gotten into a particularly bad fight with several of his student dorm mates. Aleksi had been only eight. That night, four boys had jumped him after a blade-training class. Earlier in the day, Aleksi had beaten each of them in matches without being struck a single time, and they had wanted revenge. Looking back on it, Aleksi understood they, too, were in pain—the Masters’ training was designed to weed out the weak, and Aleksi was making them look bad. It was a cruel system and Aleksi knew he was an easy focus of his fellow students’ desperate anger. But at the time, Aleksi could not see past their constant antagonizing and his own desperation.
The boys would usually just jeer and push him around. But that night, one of them snuck up behind Aleksi and, snatching his practice blade from his belt, threw it to the floor. When Aleksi tried to pick the sword up, another boy hit him in the face and knocked him over. Before Aleksi could fight back, the first boy climbed on top of him and wrapped his fingers around Aleksi’s throat.
“How do you like it?” the boy said, strangling him. “Not so good without your sword, are you?”
And then, on that fateful night, something inside of Aleksi snapped. A fury engulfed him, and just like he had been taught in hand-to-hand combat class, Aleksi broke the boy’s arm at the wrist and elbow. One of the other students then kicked Aleksi and tried to push him back down again, but Aleksi struck out with his legs and cracked three of the boy’s ribs. Regaining his feet with a snarl, Aleksi then grabbed his wooden practice blade from the floor.
The other boys ran, screaming for help. Looking back on it, Aleksi felt embarrassed about hurting them. But it had made them stop and had brought him closer to Lina. In the end, it had been worth it. Once he got his wooden blade back, Aleksi chased the remaining two boys all the way into the dorm Master’s apartments. As the children were banging on the door for help, Aleksi cut down with his sword. He swung hard and fast, just like he had done so many times before in the training hall. His strike split the back of one of the student’s skulls with a hollow thud. As the boy fell to the floor, blood started to seep from his broken skull.
Aleksi was about to do the same to the other, but the door swung open. It was Master Lina DeLuth. As Lina rushed over and healed the hurt boy with her Runic powers, she looked at Aleksi knowingly, and Aleksi remembered dropping his sword and breaking into sobs. The wooden blade clattered to the stone floor as Lina’s Runic casting made the student’s skull whole again. Aleksi remembered seeing through his tears the other boy cowering in the corner, soaked in his own soil. His shame had prevented him from meeting Lina’s eyes.
Luckily, the wounded students were able to be mended in time and suffered no lasting physical injuries. They never bothered Aleksi again, however, and only one of them ever actually maturated into his next student grade. What had become of them after that Aleksi did not know for sure, but he assumed they had suffered the same fate as all other unascended Academy students—death.
After tending to the wounded, Lina had taken Aleksi into her apartment. He thought he was going to be severely chastised, but instead, she made him tea. Aleksi remembered his hands were shaking as he timidly took the glass cup. But the tea was soothing grathmala, and as he drank it, his nerves settled considerably.
“Well,” Lina said, “they certainly have learned a valuable lesson tonight.” Aleksi stared at her with a look of blank surprise, saying nothing. She smiled as she continued. “Do not corner a wolf lest you desire its teeth upon your flesh.”
Aleksi remembered being astounded. When a student was not in active training, there were profound consequences for drawing another student’s blood, breaking joints, or splitting bones. That night he had done all three. But instead of punishment, he was receiving tea and compliments.
“This, however,” Lina continued, “is also a lesson for you, too. Do not let your rage overpower you, lest you unconsciously rend the flesh of others. For that, my little cub, is the path of a fallen Master—a path that leads only to darkness, suffering, and death.”
“But Nataraja . . . ,” Aleksi remembered saying meekly, “Nataraja says I should channel my anger.”
“I’m sure he does. And he, although a vindicated Master of the Academy, has had his own dance with darkness . . .”
Their conversation had continued for many hours that night. It had been the first time anyone other than Rudra had actually shown interest in how he was feeling. It was a rare cherished memory among his many harsh experiences living at the Eastern Academy. At the end of their exchange, Lina had then told him something that Aleksi had carried close to his heart from that day forth.
“You can’t even begin to imagine the gift you possess, Aleksi,” she began, pointing to the fledgling Rune on his right hand. “It is a magnificent blessing and not a thing to be ashamed of.”
“But everyone hates me for it,” Aleksi said. “It’s a curse, not a blessing!” Aleksi then dropped his cup and it shattered on the floor. Fumbling, he tried to pick up the pieces. He cut himself in the process and only added his own blood to the fallen mess of glass and tea.
As his blood slowly dripped onto the floor, Lina clicked her tongue and took his hand in her own. Aleksi watched in reverence as blue light emanated from her palms and the cut on his finger began to heal. His skin quickly re-formed itself until it was whole once again.
“They are just scared of you,” Lina said, making a motion with her fingers. In a Runic orb of light, the broken cup then reconstituted itself from its once-fragmented pieces. “The path to becoming a Master is a very arduous one. The things we put you children through . . . Sometimes I wonder if . . .”
Lina’s voice trailed off as she refilled his cup. She took a deep breath and continued. “Those boys know they will never be able to compete with you and your Rune. No matter how hard they try, you will be chosen over them as an Apprentice. To be honest, I don’t blame them for their feelings. Many are jealous of you.”
“But I don’t want any Master that would choose them,” Aleksi remembered saying. “Rudra is
my Master and I will apprentice under him, and him alone!”
“Aleksi, you must never repeat those words, because that is exactly what scares people the most.” Lina had shaken her head. “You and Rudra represent something that is very challenging for us Masters of the Modern Age. Other than Rudra, none have been imbued with a Rune for many long ages, let alone born with one. That combined with what Rudra did . . .”
Lina’s voice trailed off, and there was a long silence before she continued. “Regardless, Numina chose you for a reason.” She then reached out and ruffled his hair. “Numina chose you, Aleksi, and no one else. That is powerfully important beyond anything you could possibly know at your age. Why you have been imbued after so many years of Guardian inactivity is a mystery to even the Masters’ Council. But to be born with a Rune, that is truly a numinous miracle of Terra! A miracle to everyone except Rudra. But that is another matter entirely. Right now, Rudra’s actions are not important—you are what is important, for you are my student. And, if you choose it, you can also be my Apprentice.”
Lina looked at him expectantly, but Aleksi remained silent and gazed at the ground. He noticed that his blood had begun to congeal on the stone floor at his feet. “Aleksi,” Lina continued, raising his chin to meet her gaze, “ultimately the choice is yours. You are powerful and all can feel it. Unfortunately, the sad truth is that throughout your whole life, not only will people resent you for it, but more importantly, they will do everything in their power to use you for their own selfish ends. Rudra most of all.”
Lina then placed one hand on either of his shoulders. “With the right tutelage, you will grow to be not just a renowned swordsman but a very powerful Apprentice. And then, once your training is complete, you will become an incredibly influential Master, and most likely a High Master serving on the Masters’ High Council. But despite all of this, you must always remember that underneath all that power you have a beautiful heart that shines with a brilliant, pure light. And if you let your heart guide your choices, you will then never be cast astray— no matter the path you are forced to walk.”
Rune of the Apprentice (The Rune Chronicles) Page 23