Sapphire Ambition (Runics Book 2)

by Jeff Kish

  Fire eyes him suspiciously. “Just what is it you have in mind, here?”

  Proudly, the dean states, “It is the privilege of faculty and guests to use the hydrolift. Step inside and I shall demonstrate.”

  Before Fire can object, Era asks, “Hydrolift? As in, this thing will lift us up?” Excitedly, he steps inside the enclosed space. “Come on, Fire!”

  Her hand planted firmly on her hidden dagger, she takes a deep breath and steps next to Era. The dean also enters, himself taking nearly half the cramped space. He closes the door behind himself, and they find the door is painted with a number zero. As if showing off, Marris depresses a switch on the side wall. Amidst a faint sound of gushing waters, they feel themselves start to rise, and the door marked with zero eventually disappears below the floor, giving way to a door marked with a one.

  “Impressed?” the dean proudly inquires.

  “How are we rising?” Era asks in awe.

  “It may come as a surprise to you, but it is the power of water that lifts us,” Marris explains. “I’ll not bore you with the details, but think of it as a strong current that prompts the motion of mechanical parts.”

  “Wow, you academy guys really have a lot figured out,” Era comments, growing hopeful that his questions will soon find answers.

  “Believe it or not, this technology is over a decade old,” says the dean. “We simply have yet to find a compelling use for it outside the Academy, though our headmaster is exploring whether one would serve well within the palace.”

  “Still impressive. Reminds me of a sky boat in a lot of ways,” Era observes, to which Fire shudders.

  “If you take pleasure in this, then allow me to give you a brief tour of our establishment,” the dean says, pressing the stop button as they approach the seventh floor. Fire mouths the word “no”, but Era can only offer a shrug as he dares not sour the enthusiasm of his host. The lift grinds slowly to a halt, and Era feels the ground swaying under his feet as the platforms holds its position. He decides he wouldn’t mind following the dean away from the precariously perched compartment.

  They walk the halls as classes are beginning, and the dean takes pleasure in showcasing their operations. “This floor houses the red garbs, so their studies are quite advanced. By this point, they are participating in advanced rune research, which includes progressive programming techniques and the pursuit of new symbols, a field we call ‘symbology’.”

  Era peers into a classroom to find a half-dozen students clad in red diligently hunched over obelite. He is reminded of the runemaking competition he witnessed on the shores of Canterin, not to mention the impossibly tiny symbols etched into the obelite of the water monster. His mind further wanders, and he can’t help but question if he has such a marked slab of obelite within his body.

  “In this lab, we are researching the qualities of obelite and its effects on programming,” Marris announces as he continues the tour. “For example, does the quality and purity of obelite affect our ability to leverage capacity runes? Queries of such nature are commonly tackled within our halls.”

  Era glances back to Fire, whose boredom is growing into annoyance, and he opts to move things along. “Dean Marris, this is all impressive. Did Di also participate in such research?”

  Stoically, he replies, “Let us hold that conversation behind closed doors.” With that, he leads the two guests to the end of the stone hallway and into a meeting space. A wide slit in the wall serves as a window on the far side, and a set of exquisite couches line the other walls.

  Era moves to the window overlooking the campus below. “Wow, Fire! Come get a look at this view!”

  His cohort ignores him and takes a seat while watching the dean closely. “So you knew our cousin?”

  The professor sits on the couch opposite the visitors while stroking his bushy black beard. “I did. As I mentioned, I’m the dean of the blue garbs here at the Arcane Three Pillars Academy.”

  “What’s a blue garb?” Era asks. “Is that like the red garbs you mentioned?”

  The question takes Marris aback. “Your ignorance is astounding. Our students advance in rank as they progress in their studies. Donning a blue garb is the right of students who are first admitted to the academy.”

  “Ah, so they wear it their first year here?” he asks.

  “Not quite,” he boasts. “Our classes are not so simple. Blue garbs can take three to five years to advance.”

  Era’s eyes widen. “How long does it take to graduate!?”

  “An advanced student can be done in eight years,” he proudly answers. “However, most take well over ten.”

  The uneducated thief is astonished. “Di… She would have been here until she was an old maid! Though she sure seemed smart, so maybe she would have beat the average?”

  Marris shakes his head. “Di was certainly intelligent, plus her shaping skills were remarkable! The problem was her confidence. She was twice caught cheating and thus in danger of expulsion. In fact, the only reason she wasn’t… well…”

  Fire smirks. “Because she was the mayor of Canterin’s daughter, right?”

  He shoots her a condescending glare. “You two claim to be her relatives, so you’re surely aware that she is no mayor’s daughter.”

  “Y-You knew that?” Era stutters.

  “Please don’t underestimate the connections we have at this prestigious academy,” the dean replies. “We knew within a week that she was a fraud.”

  Fire eyes him suspiciously. “So the reason you let her stay was…?”

  The dean suddenly grows sheepish. “Well, after all, she arrived with quite a gift.” Met with two blank expressions, he asks, “What? You didn’t know?”

  “Know what?” Era asks.

  “Di showed up with a fifty thousand venni tuition payment,” the dean says. “That’s five times the normal tuition! We couldn’t well turn her away after that.”

  “You’re a bunch of dirty crooks!” Era shouts, slamming his hand on his knee. “You blinded yourselves to Di’s cheating and false identity because of money?”

  “It was for mutual benefit,” the dean says while raising a hand in the air defensively. “We placed that money to excellent use in our research, and Di was gaining our prestigious education.”

  “I’m getting tired of the word ‘prestigious’,” Fire growls. “So are you aware of why Di was taken by the military?”

  “We don’t know,” he quickly answers, “but we didn’t ask many questions. In a way, it solved our problem with Di.”

  Era grits his teeth, resisting the urge to punch the hefty dean in the face. “How could you…?”

  “So tell me who you are,” the dean demands. “And tell me who Di really was. As you might guess, we aren’t fond of unexplained mysteries here in this establishment.”

  Fire notices Era’s growing frustration and pushes him back into his seat before addressing the dean. “It’s less interesting than you’d think. Di is the illegitimate child of a baron who shall not be named. I’m certain you can calculate the rest.”

  Marris nods while continuing to stroke his beard. “Very interesting, indeed. So that would make you two the legitimate offspring keeping tabs on her, but the military discovered her presence and took her. This baron must have enemies…” His eyes glaze over as he continues to expand upon his fictitious scenario, and Era can hardly believe how quickly the scholar takes Fire at her word.

  “As expected, you’ve thoroughly deduced the situation,” Fire says. “We knew Di was taken, but we needed to hear your side of it. It sounds as if you were not given a reason when they took her.”

  “Not at all! The commander was quite abrupt. Rude, too.”

  “Then I suppose our business is done.” Fire acts as if she’s about to stand, but she pauses and adds, “Come to think of it, we have one more question before leaving, if you don’t mind us tapping your vast intellectual expertise.”

  “Not at all,” Marris responds, allowing his ego to be st
roked. “What is it you want to know?”

  “Have you ever heard of runics?”

  The dean’s brow furrows. “Runics? In what context?”

  “It’s a special type of rune,” Era interjects. “Or are you saying that the prestigious Academy has no knowledge of such things?”

  “If the Academy has no knowledge about a rune, then it doesn’t exist,” the dean stresses.

  “Oh, it exists,” Fire says, glancing at Era.

  “And just what kind of a rune is a runic?”

  Era struggles to invent a description. “It looks like a person, acts like a person…”

  “An anthropomorphic rune?” the dean asks. “Ah, I see now. You’re clearly referring to runoids.”

  Era’s eyes light up. “Wait, you’ve heard of them?”

  “Certainly. Anyone with a basic knowledge of history has heard of them, thanks in large part to the infamous Runoid War some three hundred years ago.”

  Era’s enthusiasm escalates. “So runoids look like humans?”

  “Heavens, no, but they were anthropomorphic,” he clarifies.

  The runic frowns. “That’s the second time you’ve said that, and I still don’t know what it means.”

  “Anthropomorphic means that they were made to resemble human form,” says the dean, all too eager to bestow more knowledge upon his uneducated company, “though our research shows this was for aesthetic purposes only. Their distinguishing characteristic is that they could react to their environments. Their programming allowed them to perceive.”

  Fire glances at Era again. “You mean they had free will?”

  “A rune programmed with free will? No, no, nothing of that sort could possibly exist,” he says with a chortle.

  Era’s eyes fall to the ground. “No free will, huh?”

  “Runoids were still runes. They could only react to their environment via preprogrammed responses. But, even without free will, this produced beings that could act like humans!” Crossing his arms, he adds, “In the end, they were made into killing machines to be used on the battlefield, hence the war’s namesake. The technology to program them was lost many centuries ago.”

  “No free will… made to be killing machines?” Era whispers in despair. “That’s really what they were?”

  “Indisputably so. They were often comprised of a solid element, such as earth or water.”

  His brow furrows as he realizes, “That’s like what we fought in that abandoned mansion.”

  The dean looks at his cloaked guest in confusion. “Come again?”

  “We didn’t fight it,” Fire corrects. “Our loyal bodyguards did that. However, yes, we found a living runoid just three weeks ago. How about that?”

  The dean’s stunned expression quickly shifts to annoyance. “That is impossible. Runoid remnants have never been found, let alone an intact one. We only know of their existence from ancient tomes.”

  “We found one, alright. And what’s more…” Fire flips open Jem’s satchel. “Take a look, see what you think,” she says as she offers the half-disk.

  The dean expresses immense awe at the shard of obelite marked with countless tiny symbols. “Th-This is impossible!” He leans with it into the light, straining his eyes to make out the programmed markings. “But for it to be this well preserved, it must have been…”

  “Active?” Fire smugly asks.

  Marris barely acknowledges this as he caresses the treasure in his hands. “This… This could finally give us the edge on Corpit!”

  “Corpit?” Era repeats.

  “Corpit is an Allerian researcher. The scoundrel is the leading authority on runoids, much to my dismay.”

  “Can’t handle being in second place?” Fire chides.

  “The reprobate is a disgrace,” he sneers. “His pockets are lined heavily with Krypta funding, and the sole purpose of his research is certainly to create weapons.”

  “What’s Krypta?” Era asks.

  “The Allerian equivalent to Valvoren’s Merc Market. Krypta is a family whose corrupt influences know no end,” he explains. “Corpit was a young Allerian Academy graduate who was financed with a purpose. We have his first twenty years’ worth of results in our library.”

  “Twenty!?” Era exclaims, enticed by the prospect of what the research could contain.

  “It’s been a blemish on our record that such a disreputable scholar would be the leading expert in our field, but, if this rune is authentic, it could set my research forward a hundred years! Corpit would never catch up to me.”

  All too pleased by his words, Fire plucks it from him and says, “Okay then, let’s talk price.”

  “Of all the…” he huffs. “Do you not intend to donate it?”

  “Donate?” Fire scoffs. “Our services don’t come cheap, pal. Our guards almost died fighting this thing, so you need to make it worth our while.”

  The dean scrunches his nose. “How much?”

  “We want to go to Alleria.”

  Era’s jaw drops, and the dean strokes his beard. “It’s true the Academy traditionally has access to such transport, but that has eroded these past years. We no longer have that privilege.”

  “You’re telling me there’s no way this prestigious institution can arrange for such transport?” Fire challenges.

  “I’m saying that the privilege has been revoked,” he says. “Surely there’s something else we could arrange?”

  “Yeah,” Era says, glaring at Fire. “We originally just planned to ask for money.”

  “How much?”

  “Five hundred thousand,” Fire says.

  “F-Five hundred!?” Marris shouts, even as Era was about to respond in kind.

  “You can afford it,” she challenges. “You’ll either arrange transport or pay up if you want the runoid.”

  “This is an insult to everything this institution represents!” Marris growls as he stands to his full height.

  Fire eyes him slyly while swinging the bag back and forth. “Are you saying ‘no deal’?”

  Though disdainful, he can hardly resist his covetous desire for the artifact. “If you intend to follow through with this vile extortion, well, I’ll see what I can do. Wait here.”

  Era is in disbelief at Fire’s actions, and he wonders if she had planned this from the beginning. Still, he realizes his opportunity for research may be cut short, and he calls out, “Dean Marris! I have a request.”

  Chapter 2

  Fire impatiently taps her foot while Era peruses the endless rows of tomes. “What are we doing in the library, again?”

  “Looking for answers,” Era calmly replies as his finger runs along the dusty bindings. The broad, cylindrical library is thick with a musty scent, and the dank lighting makes it difficult to make out the scripted titles on the bindings. Housed in a surprisingly deep basement of the tower, the vault’s ceiling stretches high above the many shelves. “The dean has never heard of runics,” he says, “but the Academy must have something to offer. Besides five hundred thousand, I suppose. Care to tell me what that was all about?”

  “Later,” she curtly replies.

  “Why is everything a secret with you?” he gripes. “You really had to spring that on me? Alleria!?” He rubs his temple and moans. “Jem is going to throw a fit about this. There is no way she’ll approve.”

  “You’re always so worried about the ice queen,” Fire says. “You should make up your own mind about something for once.”

  “Why do you even want to go there?”

  “I said later.”

  “I don’t understand why- oh, I think I found it!” he exclaims as he pulls an impossibly thick book from its place. He heaves it with his one arm to a nearby table, and the SLAM echoes violently from the ancient stone walls. He brings a lamp close and opens the cover. “On Runoid War Mechanisms, by Corpit Luk.”

  “Luk definitely sounds Allerian,” Fire comments.

  Era continues to leaf through the pages. “Ugh, he writes so small! And his h
andwriting is atrocious.” He frowns and asks, “Come to think of it… do Allerians speak the same language as us?”

  “Turk and his gang spoke the language,” she recalls. “You’ve been hanging with the ice queen this long and never thought to ask? She’s the expert on Allerians, if any of us.”

  Era flips through the opening pages and lands on a diagram of a timeline. “Let’s see… the war took place a hundred years after the collapse of the Third Kingdom? They sure treat it as fact, but I thought it was just a legend.”

  “How can you of all people possibly say that?” she asks.

  “It’s not like we’ve proven anything,” he points out. He flips forward before stopping on a page with rough sketches of runoids. “Seems there were all kinds of these things. Earth, Fire, Water… maybe even combinations of elements.” His eyes lose focus as his mind wanders. “Made to be weapons, huh?”

  “Shut up for a second,” Fire hushes as she swings around a shelf, grabs the hiding dean’s collar, and drags him into the open. She shoves the lurker into a wall of books and unsheathes her dagger. “Why were you sneaking up on us?”

  “I-I was doing no such thing!” Marris yelps.

  “You didn’t use the stairs.”

  “I used a back stairwell!”

  “Fire, lay off,” Era says as he pushes her dagger down.

  “I don’t see the coin,” she observes.

  “My associates are discussing it presently,” he replies. “Frankly, it is dubious to think they would ever agree to such terms.”

  “They will if they want the rune,” she claims.

  “Perhaps it would be in your best interests to change the asking sum,” he suggests.

  “Is that a threat?”

  “Preposterous. This prestigious institution would never threaten,” he retorts, eyeing her with disgust. “We leave such tactics for the less civilized.”

  Her breath trembles. “You think we’re uncivilized? You think you’re above us?”

  Era is startled to find the mercenary losing her cool. “Fire, maybe you should-”

  “It is becoming abundantly evident you’re not of noble birth,” the dean sneers. “How deep do your lies go?”