Runic Revelation (The Runic Series Book 2)

by Clayton Wood

  “Uh, I was just thinking,” Kyle stammered, taking one step back, his mind turning to mush. “It's nice walking with you.”

  “How nice?” Ariana pressed, a strange smile on her lips. Kyle shrugged.

  “Really nice, I guess.” Ariana's eyebrows rose.

  “You guess?” she exclaimed. Kyle froze, staring at her like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming tractor trailer. But she only laughed. “It's really nice to be with you too,” she admitted. Then she turned quiet again, staring down at her shoes.

  “What's wrong?” he asked.

  “Oh nothing,” she replied, then shook her head. “I was just wondering if you had...” She paused then, biting her lip rather fetchingly.

  “Had what?”

  “A...girlfriend back home,” she answered. “You know, back on Urth.”

  “No!” Kyle exclaimed, shaking his head vigorously. Then he realized he'd shouted it out far too loudly, and he cleared his throat nervously. “No, I've never, uh...nope,” he mumbled, wondering if it was possible to die from embarrassment. To his surprise, Ariana looked relieved.

  “Good,” she replied. Then she cocked her head to one side, staring at him curiously. “Never?” she pressed.

  “I'm, uh,” Kyle began, and then he gave up, shrugging helplessly. “Nope,” he admitted.

  “But you're so kind,” she exclaimed, putting a hand on his shoulder. To his alarm, she seemed, well, alarmed by his admission.

  “I'm shy.”

  “That's true,” Ariana agreed, for some reason seeming quite relieved by that answer. They resumed their walk forward on the cobblestone path. A flying insect of some sort buzzed around Kyle's head, and her hand shot out disturbingly fast, moving so quickly he could barely register the motion. The insect buzzed no more. “If you ever go back to Urth, you should just try talking to them, like you did with me in the Arena,” she counseled. “Just be yourself, and you'll have a girlfriend in no time.”

  “I don't want one,” Kyle blurted out, causing Ariana to stop in her tracks. She gave him a funny look, then her eyes widened, and she put her hand to her mouth. “Wait, no!” he cried. “I mean, I do, but not on Earth.” Then his cheeks flushed furiously, and he had the sudden urge to disappear. But Ariana seemed to relax a bit.

  “You want a girlfriend here?” she asked, staring at him with those hypnotic eyes. He winced, realizing he'd trapped himself.

  “Uh, yeah,” he mumbled, breaking her gaze and staring down at his gravity boots. He briefly...but seriously...entertained activating those boots, and flying as far away from this conversation as he could.

  “Anyone in particular?” Ariana pressed, leaning in a bit. Kyle shrugged, looking at anything but her. He tried to gather his thoughts, to no avail.

  “I dunno,” was all he could manage.

  “You are shy,” Ariana proclaimed. But her tone was hardly judgmental. She smiled, leaning in close, then kissing him on the cheek. Her hair smelled faintly of flowers, her lips cool but soft. She pulled away, and Kyle put a hand to his cheek, his skin there tingling pleasantly. “It's okay,” she added, patting him on the shoulder. Then she removed her hand, her expression becoming serious. She stiffened slightly, lowering her eyes, then staring back into his. “Would you ever want a girlfriend that couldn't sleep?”

  Kyle stared at her, his jaw slack. Then he realized she was waiting for an answer. Despite every bone in his body screaming for him to keep his mouth shut, he didn't. The word just came out.

  “Definitely.”

  Ariana broke into a smile, leaning in and giving him a big hug. Too big, in fact; Kyle gasped as the air was crushed from his lungs, his arms flailing helplessly as spots began to appear in his vision. Ariana let go of him, and he nearly dropped to the ground, managing to hold himself up by putting his hands on his knees. He gasped for air.

  “Sorry!” Ariana blurted out, clearly mortified. Kyle stood up, a pained smile on his face.

  “No problem,” he squeaked, holding his bruised ribs with one hand.

  “Even if she could break your ribs?” Ariana asked with grin. Kyle nodded.

  “I guess,” he mumbled back.

  “You guess?” she shot back, putting one arm around his shoulders. He flinched reflexively, but her touch was gentle this time. She walked forward then, bringing Kyle with her. “Well I'll try not to,” she conceded.

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “You'd better not get me mad then,” Ariana warned. “For your own good.”

  “I'll keep that in mind.”

  Ariana laughed, brushing her long brown hair back, the wind rustling her tresses. Then she gave him a slight squeeze. “Thanks,” she said, leaning her head on his shoulder. Soft hair tickled his neck, the smell of flowers intoxicating him.

  “For what?”

  “For being you,” she replied.

  * * *

  After their walk, Kyle and Ariana returned to the Tower. They'd both wanted to travel outside of the campus to watch the – quite literal – army of engineers and Runics as they rebuilt the city, but Kalibar had forbid them from passing the repaired gate surrounding the Secula Magna. Master Owens had suspended Ariana's lessons, and Kyle had not yet been given a replacement for the late Master Banar, so each of them ended up with a lot of time on their hands, and little to do with it. So they mostly hung around while everyone else in the Tower buzzed about busily, observing the organized chaos around them.

  Neither of them had seen much of Kalibar – or Erasmus, who had apparently made a remarkably quick recovery from his near-fatal wounds – since the Behemoth had been defeated. Kalibar had his hands full in restoring order to the city, having already delivered a speech to the public in Stridon Square. Kyle hadn't been able to witness the speech, but it had apparently gone well enough. Other than a short-lived riot in the Southwest Quarter (followed by rampant looting), the city had maintained order throughout. The massive influx of decommissioned military types might have had something to do with it; even without runic weapons, the trained soldiers were a formidable deterrent to crime.

  After the speech, Kalibar and Erasmus had been pulled into a series of meetings with the Council, with short breaks in between. All that Kyle knew was that some of the meetings had been about the two men using the Right of Dictatorship. Kyle had feared that the Council would try to prosecute Kalibar and Erasmus for invoking the Right, and there was no doubt that some of the Council members wanted to. But to his relief, Kalibar had proven awfully popular with the citizens of Stridon after heroically leading the attack against the Void Behemoth, not to mention helping to invent the weapons that had finished off the thing. And Goran himself had moved to exonerate Kalibar and Erasmus, much to Kyle's surprise. As a result, the Council had formally endorsed the Right of Dictatorship, safeguarding the Grand Runic and Grand Weaver from future prosecution.

  Eventually, Kalibar and Erasmus managed to escape their evening of meetings to join Kyle and Ariana for dinner. Everyone met in Kalibar's old retirement suite, joined by Darius, all of them starving after a long day's work. When a rather ruddy-cheeked Jenkins arrived to take their orders, he got a boisterous welcome indeed.

  “Jenkins!” Kalibar cried as the butler arrived. “You look well,” he added. And that he did; whereas previously his color had been pale and his eyes sunken, Jenkins now appeared his usual vigorous self.

  “A bout of pneumonia,” the butler explained, bowing at his charges. Kalibar smiled.

  “Glad you're feeling better,” he stated. “We'll all be having the roast duck,” he added, “...for old time's sake.”

  “And some wine,” Erasmus piped in. “Lots of it,” he added with a grin. Kyle still couldn't believe how well the Grand Runic looked; he suspected the portly man's miraculous recovery was more than a matter of luck...not that Darius would ever admit to it.

  “Of course, sires,” Jenkins replied, turning about at once and leaving the suite. He soon arrived with plate after plate of steaming duck, the smell so del
ectable that Kyle's mouth watered almost painfully with the smell of it. This was followed almost immediately by glasses of red wine for each of them, along with several extra bottles for good measure. Kyle took a tiny sip from his, then made a face, passing his glass to Darius, who took a much larger gulp. Erasmus frowned at his glass, shooting Jenkins a suspicious look.

  “Are you sure you didn't poison this?” he asked the butler, raising one eyebrow. Ariana glared at the Grand Runic.

  “It was an honest mistake,” she complained, giving Jenkins an apologetic look. They'd interrogated the poor man rather vigorously after Ariana had implicated him in her assassination attempt. They'd exonerated Jenkins only after they'd identified Greg's body in Kalibar's suite.

  “Still, I'd better have someone expendable test it first,” Erasmus stated, turning to Darius. “Here, take a sip, would you?” When Darius refused to be baited, Erasmus chuckled. “Shirking your responsibilities again, eh?” he needled. “Where were you all that time...you know, when Kalibar actually needed his bodyguard?”

  “Can't imagine why anyone would want to kill you,” Darius replied, biting into a steaming piece of duck. Kyle bit into his own, practically drooling over its deliciousness. Ariana nibbled on hers, then pushed her plate toward Darius, who was more than happy to take it off of her hands. Erasmus snorted.

  “At least the Council back-stabbed me literally for once,” he countered. “But seriously, where were you?”

  “You want to know?” Darius asked. Erasmus nodded, as did everyone else. Indeed, Kyle himself was curious as to what the bodyguard had been doing while they'd been running for their lives, nearly dying on more than one occasion. “I had to take care of something,” Darius answered.

  “Something more important than your job?” Erasmus retorted. Darius nodded serenely, finishing his own duck and starting in on Ariana's. Erasmus frowned. “Like what?”

  “I had to go to the bathroom,” Darius explained.

  Erasmus stared at him.

  “A bowel movement,” Darius added, “...if you must know.” When Erasmus continued to stare at him in disbelief, Darius stopped eating for a moment, looking up at the man. “You ever try to take a dump in full plate mail?” he asked.

  “A bowel movement?” Kalibar piped in incredulously. Erasmus rolled his eyes.

  “I'm eating here,” he complained, gesturing at his steaming plate of delicious goodies. Darius shrugged, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

  “It was diarrhea,” he explained.

  “Come on now!” Erasmus exclaimed, throwing his fork onto his plate with a clatter.

  “There was blood,” Darius added.

  “Oh for cripe's sake,” Erasmus spat, pushing his plate away. It slid to the center of the table, nearly upending Ariana's glass of wine. Darius snatched the glass before it tipped over, then generously offered to take it off of her hands. Moments later, it was empty.

  “Don't drink the water from the lake around the Arena,” Darius counseled. Kalibar chuckled, and then they all laughed, even Darius. They all finished their duck, and within moments Jenkins had removed all evidence of their gluttony, replacing their plates with bowls of what appeared to be ice cream. It was, Kyle soon discovered, the creamiest, most delicious ice cream he'd ever tasted. And it left him with a profound contented feeling that he'd never quite experienced before, as if all the stress of the last few days had simply melted away. He turned to Kalibar to ask him what it was made of.

  “Sweetroot,” Kalibar replied with a wink. “Among other things. Highly concentrated,” he added. And Kyle supposed it must be true; he couldn't imagine being possessed of any desire for violence or even anger under its decidedly delightful effect. The others soon finished their ice cream, except Ariana, who apparently had no need or desire for eating. They all sat back in their chairs contentedly while Jenkins cleared the table, except for Erasmus, who asked – with uncharacteristic politeness, no doubt on account of the ice cream – for more wine. Eventually, even his prodigious appetites were sated, and they all sat about the table, trading war stories and jokes, laughing and enjoying each other’s company. Under the influence of wine and sweetroot, Erasmus even gave Darius a hug (much to the bodyguard's discomfort), thanking him tearfully for saving his life – and then promptly asked for more wine, in hopes of erasing the memory of ever having done so.

  Eventually midnight came and went, and full bellies making for sleepy heads, they all turned in. Kyle said goodnight to them all, even managing to sneak a quick smooch from Ariana, and then made his way happily to his bed. With his mind free from worry and his belly delightfully full, his eyelids soon became heavy, and he fell fast asleep.

  Chapter 29

  The following day, everyone in the Tower got ready for the dedication ceremony in the newly repaired Tower lobby. Kalibar and Erasmus had ordered the Empire's finest sculptors to create two painted statues, one of a Battle-Weaver standing tall against an unseen enemy, his staff held valiantly before him. The other was of Runic, clad in his traditional white robes, holding a killerpillar weapon. The statue of the Battle-Weaver was placed on a majestic solid-gold pedestal in the center of the lobby, while that of the Runic was placed on a similar pedestal high above, in the center of the reverse-gravity lobby. All of the Battle-Weavers had been invited to the lobby, while the Runics stood on the ceiling high above.

  “We are here today,” Kalibar declared, standing behind a podium erected in front of the Battle-Weaver statue, facing the crowd, “...to preserve the memory of those who gave their lives for the Empire, and for its people.” He gestured at the statues. “I owe my life to them,” he added, “...and to you that stand before me today, as does every citizen of Stridon.”

  There was hearty applause at that, which slowly died away when Kalibar raised his hand up for silence.

  “Two thousand years ago, our ancestors, who had created an Empire based on the ideals of freedom, the advancement of knowledge, and equality among men, had that Empire taken from them. Cities were destroyed, the Tower fell. All seemed lost.” He paused for a moment, staring out at the crowd, his jaw set firm.

  “But their enemies,” he stated, “...and ours, failed to understand that the Empire is not made of buildings. It is not a thing of stone and mortar. Freedom does not lie in any city. It exists in the hearts and minds of the people. And, so long as we endure, so long as the idea of a people united by a common dream, of a better future for our children, and of the freedom of every man to choose his own destiny, for better or for worse, survives...this Empire will not fall.”

  “I dedicate these statues in memory of those who died to preserve these freedoms. Their sacrifice is not in vain. Our enemy is strong, and is possessed of the ability to subvert our fellow man, to create puppets of good and just men, like the late Councilman Ibicus. Our enemy seeks to take what is most precious to us: our free will. Do not be fooled by their claim to create a better world in this way, that they might create an Empire more advanced than that of the Ancients. For we all know that the Empire is not about magic, nor the technology it provides. It is made of the very ideals that our enemy wishes to take from us, a sacrifice of our self-determination for an empty promise of security.”

  Kalibar's eyes hardened, and he scanned the crowd, gripping his podium with one hand.

  “Is there any man here who would give up their freedom?”

  The crowd roared, a resounding “No!” echoing through the lobby.

  “I will give up my life,” Kalibar declared, slamming his fist into the podium, “...to defend your right to be the captains of your own lives. I will die, as did those we commemorate, before I allow this Empire, this great nation and all it stands for, to perish.” His voice softened then.

  “I will give my life,” he stated, “...for you, who have taken an oath to do the same. For those who have lost their lives saving mine. Every breath I take is a testament to their bravery. I will remember them. We will remember them. And we will endure.”

 
* * *

  After the dedication ceremony, Kalibar and Erasmus returned to their respective duties, leaving Kyle and Ariana to themselves. They chose, as they had yesterday, to spend the time with each other, going on another walk through the campus. The great engine of the Secula Magna had been restored, crowds of white and black-clad students rushing to and fro to their various classes, the terror of two days ago having already been replaced by the comforting routines of everyday life. Ariana was to resume her studies with Master Owens tomorrow, and a Runic instructor for Kyle had apparently been selected. Rather alarmingly, Erasmus had pulled Kyle aside to inform him that he was to present his idea on sensory rune arrays to the top Runic scholars in the Secula Magna, including a demonstration of Erasmus and Kalibar's functioning prototype. Kyle had enough trouble presenting a book report in front of fifteen classmates; the idea of speaking before the some of the finest minds in the Empire was the stuff nightmares were made of. But Erasmus had left no other option available.

  Kyle sighed, dreading every passing minute as he walked with Ariana. She smiled, squeezing his hand gently. She already knew what was on his mind, and despite her insistence that he would do fine, he hardly believed her. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he turned to the side, seeing a very familiar man walking beside him.

  “Darius!” he exclaimed. The bodyguard, decked out as always in his shimmering golden armor, smirked at Kyle and Ariana.

  “Can I tear you from your girlfriend for a minute?” he asked. Kyle blushed, and he glanced at Ariana, who would've blushed if she could have. He was, for a moment, jealous of her lack of blood. But she nodded, letting go of Kyle's hand and turning about while Kyle and Darius continued forward. She waved to him, and he waved back, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and infatuation. He turned to Darius, who was in mid eye-roll.