She followed, landing behind him, wind swirling around them.
“Do you have recommendations about where we should stay?”
“We get to choose?”
“Most of the time when we come to a town or village, we stay in one of the Academy-associated inns, but considering you have knowledge of this place, I wondered if perhaps there might be a better place.”
Tolan shook his head. “I doubt you will find anything that will be any better than what the Academy has ties with.” He didn’t even need to know which place the Academy had connections to, not recalling it from the last Selection, but suspected it was someplace much nicer than what he would have known.
“You will stay there as well?”
“I don’t have anyone else in the city to stay with,” he said.
“I thought you grew up here. Don’t you have a home?”
“I did. And I was apprenticed here, but…”
He cut off before saying too much. It wasn’t so much that he feared she would uncover his connection to Master Daniels, though he didn’t know if she was already aware of that. How much had the Grand Master shared with others? It was more that he didn’t want to remind anyone of his connection to the Draasin Lord. He didn’t have a connection himself, but there remained that tie from his parents, whether they had gone willingly or not. The more time he spent at the Academy, the more he questioned whether it had been willing or not.
If they had gone willingly, why wouldn’t they have brought him? Unless they feared the Academy and its shapers coming after them and endangering him. And if they hadn’t gone willingly, why them?
So many questions, and he had no answers. Perhaps he never would, which troubled him even more.
“I’m going to make arrangements, so you are free to meet me at the Winding Inn at sunset.”
Tolan glanced the sky. That gave him far more time than he wanted, but at the same time, maybe it would be good to have some time to wander.
She headed toward the center of the city, and Tolan followed for a little while before veering off. The pull of some of these outer homes called to him, and he didn’t know if it came from the fact he had no idea what Master Daniels had implied about his parents or whether it was simply the fact he’d been away from Ephra for the last year, making it so that he now wanted to see what his old home was like.
He meandered through familiar streets. Mostly, they were empty. Occasionally, he came across a few children, though he recognized none. Every so often, he would find older people hurrying, and in this outer section, they were often dressed in well-worn clothes.
At one point, an older man who Tolan thought was familiar glanced in his direction, and as he did, his eyes widened and he jerked his head around, veering off and heading into a different direction.
When it happened again with a different person, Tolan paused. Was he recognized?
That didn’t make any sense. There would be no reason for people to turn away from him in such a way, even if he were recognized.
He glanced down at his clothing and understanding came to him. They were turning away because he was from the Academy.
There was no questioning his clothing. It was distinctive, the navy and gray marking him as one of the Academy. Most people wouldn’t recognize the stripe of the student; they would only see the colors and know that he was a master shaper.
He debated taking off his cloak and bundling it up but decided against it. It might be better to wander alone, not be burdened by others wandering near him or questioning why he was here. With the Academy cloak and colors, he didn’t have to worry about any others coming to close to him.
He could explore without anyone bothering him.
He made his way around the city, following streets that had long ago been ingrained into memory. His feet knew where they were going even if he didn’t direct them. He was able to let his mind wander, and he went from thoughts of the strange wind elemental attack to the proximity to the waste, to thinking back to Master Daniels and the way that he had betrayed Tolan.
And then he came to stop before a home he had last looked upon over a year ago.
When he had lived in the home, he had felt it comfortable. It was in one of the outer sections of Ephra, far enough removed from the edge of the city that they didn’t have to feel quite as if they were on the outskirts, but not so central that he felt as if they were in one of the more privileged sections. It had been as well-maintained as his parents had been able to make it. The stone crumbled in certain sections, but no more than any of the other neighboring homes. The windows were dirty, but the glass remained intact. The The relatively recent paint left a certain vibrancy to the home that others nearby didn’t have. He approached the doorway slowly, resting his hand on it, feeling a familiar surge of comfort.
Tolan pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Dust covered everything. He had wondered if someone else might have taken over the home, especially if as it had been unoccupied for so long, but perhaps the fear of a connection to the Draasin Lord kept others away. There would be a superstition about it, and while Tolan hated that some would think that way, the fact there would be such a superstition had its benefits.
The furniture was all as he remembered. There were several chairs situated near the hearth, charred embers long ago burned away. As he took a step toward it, dust drifted toward him, cloying in his nostrils. Near the kitchen, the table and chairs were all arranged neatly as his mother would often situate them. She was always organized, and the pots hanging from hooks in the kitchen fit that organization. Everything looked as it had.
Tolan stepped back into one of the back rooms. His parents’ room was unchanged, nothing more than a wardrobe and the bed which, like everyplace else, had a coating of dust. He resisted the urge to go over to the wardrobe and open it, not certain he could stand the sight of his parents’ clothing. It would be a reminder of too much he had lost. He turned away, heading to his room, and that was more chaotic, less organized, his belongings having been hastily gathered, taken when he had gone with Master Daniels, and he had grabbed everything he thought he might need.
The only other room in the house was his father’s workshop. Tolan stepped to the end of the hall and pushed the door open. It was larger than most of the other places, with an arched roof that gave even more sense of space. Like everything else, it was covered in dust. He went to his father’s bench and ran his hand along the surface, wiping away the dust. The tools lining the wall called to him, but Tolan resisted the urge to pick any up.
A cabinet over the bench drew his eye. His father would often put partial projects inside, and he pulled it open but found it empty. Whatever had been here had long ago been taken. He was surprised the tools remained.
Tolan took a step back, his gaze drifting around the inside of the workshop, and he noticed something in the corner.
He made his way over to it and lifted it off the ground, holding it up. It was made of stone and it sparked a memory, the same memory that had come to him during the Selection. It was odd that particular memory should come to him now, especially as he couldn’t recall ever having that memory before the Selection. His father had been working on something much like this piece, creating a sculpture or whatever this was. He stared at it, twisting it in his hands.
Tolan wiped it on his cloak and held it up. There wasn’t enough light in the workshop to make out anything about it, but the ridges he had detected reminded him of the shape of the runes on the furios.
That was odd, wasn’t it?
He slipped the item into his pocket and looked around the shop. There was nothing else for him here and he turned away, heading back into the house. He paused in the kitchen, wondering if there was anything here of his mother’s that he could take as a reminder, the same way he now had this item of his father’s as a reminder of him, but there wasn’t. Instead, he decided to go back to their bedroom, forcing himself to look in the wardrobe.
When he pu
lled the doors open, dust came with it. He waited for it to settle, then pushed aside the hanging clothing. Three drawers occupied the back wall and Tolan pulled them out, noticing one was filled with jewelry. He reached inside, grabbing a necklace. He held it up, but in the dim light, he wasn’t able to make out anything about it, and it certainly wasn’t enough to remind him of her. She would wear jewelry, but never anything like this necklace.
There were several rings in the drawer, and he slipped those into his pocket, too. If nothing else, all of this belonged to him now. There was nothing else in there.
He pulled the next door open and found a stack of folded clothes. He sorted through it, but there was nothing other than what he had found initially.
The bottom drawer was much the same.
At least he had jewelry of his mother’s. Even if it was jewelry he didn’t recall her wearing, he would be able to think on it, remember her, and maybe feel connected to her in a way he hadn’t in some time.
As he made his way out of the home, he closed the door behind him. Out in the brighter light, he pulled from his pocket the item from his father’s workshop and held it up. In the sunlight, areas on the stone carving took on a clearer image. Where he thought he had felt ridges, he was now certain they were runes.
And he recognized them.
Earth.
Had his father known of the runes and rune magic?
He focused on earth, thinking of jinnar and squeezing the sculpture. As he did, it rumbled quickly.
More quickly than he would have been able to do on his own.
The fact he reached it so easily with the sculpture…
Could it be a bondar?
Tolan started to shape again, and once again, earth began to rumble.
He released it before calling to jinnar, fearing he drew too much attention to his shaping, yet feeling a strange thrill that worked through him, but also concern. If his father had knowledge of rune magic and how to make a bondar, could that be why they had been taken by the Draasin Lord?
The idea it had been left him unsettled. If that was the case, then his parents had been valuable to the Draasin Lord, and he could understand why they would have been targeted, grabbed.
Only… As Tolan thought about it, he remembered his father working over several years. If he had been making sculptures like this—if he had been making bondars—who had they been for?
3
Tolan wandered through the streets, heading away from his home, his mind spinning. All those years his parents had been working together, crafting as he had thought, and only now he began to wonder if there had been more to it. Running his finger along the edge of the sculpture, he continued to feel the runes marked in it.
Why had they never told him?
But then, why would they have? He had no connection to the element bonds, and without that, having an ability to shape something like this, to create a bondar, would have been useless.
What were the chances that he would attempt to create a bondar, considering his parents had done the same?
It seemed surprising and, at the same time, fitting.
So many questions came to mind. Master Daniels must have known, which was probably why he had taken Tolan in all those years ago. And if he had known, who else would have?
Maybe his parents hadn’t been quite as innocent as he had believed. He had thought they didn’t serve the Draasin Lord, and he had argued against those who made the claim they did, but what if that wasn’t true? What if they had served, and had gone willingly to continue to serve, making bondars for the Draasin Lord? Tolan had never really understood what value his parents would have had to someone like the Draasin Lord, but if they were able to make bondars, that would be incredibly valuable.
“Tolan?”
He blinked and looked up, half expecting to run into Master Marcella, but she would have called him Shaper Ethar, not Tolan.
He came face to face with Tanner.
Tanner Venan was tall and slender, carrying the build of many of the wind shapers. In the year they’d been apart, his face had grown slightly leaner, and a faint scruff of beard had begun to grow on his face. He was dressed in a jacket and pants, a nice cut to them indicating a certain degree of wealth, something Tanner had never known when Tolan had been in Ephra.
“What are you doing? What are you wearing?”
“Tanner.” As he said his friend’s name, tension built within him. All this time he’d been away, all he’d experienced, he had never considered how he would share it with Tanner.
There was a part of Tolan that had simply moved on after he had left Ephra. That part had never known how and what he would explain to those he had left behind. Unlike some, he didn’t have any reason to return, and they wouldn’t have known or wondered where he’d gone.
“I have so much to tell you about.”
“That’s… That’s the cloak of the Academy!”
Tolan nodded. “I was Selected.”
“You? But you can’t shape!”
Tolan looked around. While there were people out, they were making a point to avoid them, moving off to either side of the street. Single-story buildings lined either side of the street, some shops while others were homes. The shops on the street weren’t well labeled, though that was not uncommon in this part of the city. It was only then Tolan realized Tanner’s dress seemed so out of place for the section of the city they found themselves in.
“Apparently, you don’t need to have an ability to shape to be Selected.”
“How?”
“It’s a long story.”
“One you don’t intend to tell your friend?”
He took a deep breath, glancing up at the sky. There was still quite a bit of time before he was to meet Master Marcella, so he might as well share with Tanner. What else was he going to do? Now he had been to his home, there really wasn’t anything else.
Other than visit Master Daniels’ shop.
“Walk with me?” Tolan asked.
Tanner nodded and they started through the street, making their way toward the shop. As Master Daniels had been an earth shaper, he had been allowed to set up his shop in one of the nicer sections of the city. Tanner watched him, and Tolan felt a flush building within him, rising in his neck and working up toward his face. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. He had to remind himself he had been Selected and he belonged. And, surprisingly, had he not gone to the Academy, he would not have been able to have a hand in stopping many other things that had taken place.
“I went to the Selection a year ago to find you.”
“To find me?”
“We’d gotten into an argument, and I went to support you.”
“I never went to a Selection…” He turned toward him, a flash of irritation washing across his face. “They spirit-shaped me?”
Tolan nodded. “Everyone who doesn’t get Selected gets spirit-shaped.”
“But no one seems to have been chosen!”
“No one else was picked. It was just me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I can’t say I understand any better. From what I can tell, it’s not uncommon to not have any Selected. They’re looking for those who have particular talents.”
“Can you tell me anything about the Selection?”
Master Marcella and the Grand Master had been quite explicit that they not reveal anything, and so Tolan shook his head. “I’m not sure me telling you anything would make it any more likely you’d succeed. The Selection is different for each person.”
“I thought it was just a test of shaping.”
“Apparently it’s not. If it was a test of shaping, I never would have passed.”
“Are you here because you never developed the ability to shape?”
Tolan sighed, reaching into his pocket and gripping the furios. He didn’t like having to prove himself, especially to Tanner, but there was the residual memory others had of him and his inability to shape. If nothing else, he w
anted to end that now, to have Tanner recognize he belonged at the Academy. It had taken Tolan a long time to come to terms with the fact that he belonged.
He focused on saa, letting his connection to the furios help him focus his connection to the elemental, and as he did, power began to build and the flame flickered above his open hand. Tolan held it in place, then began to spiral it, slower and slower until he squeezed, extinguishing the flame altogether.
Tanner’s breath caught. “Fire?”
“Fire. Earth. Occasionally, wind and water.”
Tanner’s eyes widened. “All of the elements?”
“The Academy has ways of helping to ensure shapers can reach other elements,” he said.
“What sort of ways?”
Tolan shrugged. Would it matter if he told Tanner about bondars? Probably not, and seeing as how the only bondars Tanner would get near would be the ones Tolan had in his pocket, the only time that would matter would be when Tanner attempted to shape.
“They are called bondars.”
Tanner’s face screwed up in a frown. “We have bondars. They aren’t worth anything. I mean, they might be able to help some people connect, but they aren’t that useful. I’ve tried, and I can’t get them to do anything.”
“I bet the bondars at the Academy are more potent than the bondars you would have access to.”
As he said it, he realized that sounded somewhat conceited, but at the same time, it was true. The Academy had the original bondars. The shaping schools in places like Ephra likely had copies of copies.
“I still want to know how you were Selected. I just can’t believe you would be the one chosen from here!”
“To be honest, I can’t believe I was chosen, either.” There was no harm in admitting that, especially as he still marveled at the fact he had been the one picked. More surprising, or perhaps maybe not more surprising, he now felt as if he should have been picked. Had he not, he would never have begun to understand how he could reach the elements.
The Water Ruptures Page 3