by Mark Ryan
Proumin stroke his beard as he watched the children, paying particular attention to Tetra. “Listen, boy. This isn’t about you alone. These are things you all must learn. You all may be strong, but none of you are so strong that you can’t fall prey to your own affinity … especially if you never fully understand the magic you wield. Fusing affinities is no simple task. Two wills and two minds must work together. If you fail, the results can be disastrous. For other races this is a simple task. Every oroc uses the same two affinities, which means they understand how they work without the risks we have. With us, it is not just a matter of understanding the magic, it is also a matter of trusting the person. You must get that into your heads.”
Tetra exchanged glances with the other children, contemplating what his grandfather said. They’d heard all this before, but tomorrow marked their departure for the Academy. These repeated lessons ran deeper than mere words. The concepts Proumin taught would take years to master. They were seeds being planted in the kid’s minds, aimed at growing over the years at the Academy. And yet, he wanted to grasp them now. He had been studying under his grandfather’s tutelage for years, without achieving the control he so desperately wanted.
“Both of you,” Proumin looked between Tetra and Sven, “had to fight your natural resistance to work together. Each of you wanted control, neither wanted to cooperate. This is natural. But fighting to allow another in costs as much, if not more, than using magic itself. To work together, you must let go of this natural tendency.”
The pressure of Halli’s gaze shifted as she considered Proumin’s words. Tetra sighed in relief. This day had been difficult enough without his sister adding to his fear—the ultimate dread of someone discovering his magic usage worsened his spinal injury.
Proumin stroked his beard. “Learn everything you can about each other. The closer your bonds, the stronger you’ll be at the Academy.” He turned his attention to Malec. “A final demonstration. Lift the stone.”
With a sly smile, Malec tossed his black curls aside and set his dark-eyed gaze on the stone. The heavy rock shot into the air. It stopped at eye level and rotated slowly, the small sparks of mica shimmering in the sun. Miming a yawn, he twiddled blades of grass between his fingers.
“Very good, you’ve been practicing.” Tetra watched his grandfather take in the casual gestures of confidence of Malec’s blatant posturing. “… but enough showing off.”
The stone dropped to the ground with a thud, kicking up a cloud of dust.
The Elder tugged his whiskers. “We’re proud of you all. The village hasn’t had the honor of sending anyone to the Academy for four years, and now we’re sending seven.” He rose to his feet, joints creaking and popping. “Continue practicing, but be careful. The magnitude and strength of your affinities could pose a natural danger to you and anyone around if you lose control at a critical moment. Remember that, always.”
Walking to the edge of the green, he paused and looked back to the children. “Take the rest of the day for yourselves. Tomorrow you leave for the Academy.”
“Thank you, Elder Proumin,” the youngsters said in unison. As Tetra’s grandfather exited the green, the children rested in contemplative silence. Noises from the bustling village washed over them: people talking, the soft slap of laundry being cleaned on a washboard, the clack and clatter of a wagon’s wheels over the cobblestones. Everything changed tomorrow, and the normalcy of those sounds would be gone.
As usual, Pavil broke the silence first. “Hear that? Our affinities have personality!”
Halli blinked. “What are you talking about?”
The boy grinned. “He said they have magnitude.”
Katerine rolled her gold-green eyes. “That’s not what magnitude means.”
“What does it mean, then?” Pavil leaned out of Halli’s way as she tried to ruffle his blonde hair.
“It means I’m hungry,” Laney groaned as she flopped back, unruly gold locks curling off her head in all directions. The youngest of the group, only twelve years old, she always found something to complain about.
Halli sat down beside Tetra. Leaning her arms over her knees, she nonchalantly tugged at blades of grass between her feet. The afternoon winds carried the scent of wheat across the village, and Tetra smelled roasting rocboar coming from the village inn. His stomach grumbled.
Halli nudged Tetra with her elbow. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
Forcing himself to smile, Tetra nodded. She smiled back. Neither of them was fooled. She felt his pain; he sensed her worry.
“It means you’re an idiot,” Katerine said, retying a cord around her hair. Malec’s snorting laughter grew, while Pavil’s expression darkened. The rest of their friends seemed to be in a different world from the one that Tetra and Halli inhabited at the moment, one that they, as twins, knew all too well.
“Food does sound good,” Sven said. Laney sat up with a squeal.
“Mealtime?” Halli asked Tetra. He nodded again. She stood and reached out, helping Tetra stand even as he rolled his eyes at her.
“About time,” Laney said. “I’m close to starving.”
Malec copied Halli and held out a hand to Pavil, who took it and jumped to his feet. Pavil pulled hard as he jumped up, and Malec wobbled in place, almost falling over.
“Exaggerating much?” Pavil asked. “I can provide a magnitude of talent to sustain you.”
“I don’t want any magnitude from you,” Laney said, strutting off the village green, holding her hands sternly on her hips.
The others broke into laughter. Sven trudged down the street leading from the green to the Bicks’ residence. Women and men worked hard at the end of the year’s cleaning, ready to welcome the harvest moon with the celebrations it brought. Rushes were replaced and lamps readied for the winter to come. Always full of something to talk about, Laney chattered away beside him as the others fell in step. The day’s heat sat heavy on their heads, but the cool breeze caressing the valley made the day beautiful.
The aroma of freshly cut wheat, grown on the cleared steppes, filled the air along with the quiet hush of the scythes wielded by the reapers. Preparations for the harvest festival were underway. It saddened Tetra to know he’d miss the celebration, though he wouldn’t miss the town itself. Their departure for the Academy in Aldamere had been pushed up nearly two weeks sooner than in years past—due to the prediction of an early winter. Under the cheery autumn sun, winter seemed too far away.
“I wonder what it will be like,” Halli said, gazing into the distance. “Classes. A big city …” Tetra’s sister echoed his thoughts until she grinned and added—“Boys.”
“I can’t imagine it will be anything like Jaegen,” Katerine said.
“By the Aspects, I hope it isn’t,” Tetra said. “I couldn’t stand a place a hundred times the size of Jaegen, but just as dull.”
“It’s not so bad, is it?” Halli frowned, a chiding look he hated. Her being ten minutes older than him didn’t give her the authority to act so disapproving.
He shrugged. “It’s home and it always will be, but I’m ready for a change. Don’t get me wrong. I love everyone here, but it’s so small, you know?”
“Jaegen never changes. That’s one of the things I love about it.” Halli watched a group of children run past, squealing as they played some impromptu game.
Katerine perked up. “You know what we should do?”
Tetra kicked a rock off the path. “What?”
“We should name ourselves.” She skipped forward a step. “Something like The Jaegen Seven, yeah?”
“That’s silly, Katerine. We’re not a band of storytime heroes or anything.”
“Hush, Tetra,” his sister replied. “I like the idea. A way to remember we’re a group once we’re at the Academy.”
Tetra glanced at her. “Still think it’s silly.”
Katerine pouted. “I just want everyone to know we’re a group. That we’re all friends.” She lowered her head and muttered, �
�I don’t think that’s stupid.”
He shrugged again and looked away. “Have it your way.”
“Then it’s settled.” Halli chucked Tetra’s shoulder. “What a magnificent band we’ll be.”
The Jaegen Seven continued toward the Bicks house.
***
Chapter 2
Tetra Bicks
The Bicks’ home was one of the few two-story stone homes in the village. A much larger single-story wooden structure, the healing house, stood a stone’s throw away. Though it had been built in cooperation with several other nearby villages along the Rocmire forest border, the townsfolk still considered the healing house as part of the Bicks’ place. Tetra’s family had served as healers for Jaegen and the surrounding towns for generations. Drayston Castle even called upon the Bicks family on occasion.
Tetra turned to watch Malec and Pavil jostle each other as they followed the rest down the street. They were always fighting, always teasing each other, trying to see which one of them would finally be the best at whatever they set their minds to compete about.
Looking back to follow his gaze, Halli smiled when she saw them. She put her hands on her hips and paused. “Stop being clods or the Dreadknights will come get you!”
Malec laughed. “Like they would bother with us. They’re too powerful and we’re just little boys.”
“Little boys who need to be taught a lesson.” Halli gave them a mock-stern look.
They followed the rest of the children to the twins’ home. Tetra listened to Laney regaling Sven with her theories on hypothetical situations and how they might use their magic in each scenario. They rounded the corner of the healing house, steering clear of the front doors to avoid the sick that even now waited their turn, and headed along the fence toward the main house.
“I’m not sure what I’d do,” Laney said as Sven held the wooden slat door open for the group. She bit her lip as she walked. “If I had no choice, I’d probably just use a gale to put out the fire, but that could cause it to spread to other buildings and there may not be a Volcon there to help …” her words trailed off as she disappeared inside.
Sven sighed in relief. Malec patted him on the shoulder as the rest of the group followed Laney into the kitchen entrance. “You had to ask. You know how she gets.”
Tetra stifled a laugh, not wanting to surrender his sour mood that easily. Holding his grudge, though he didn’t know who he was upset with, he sniffed at the air scornfully. The smell of freshly baked bread wafted through the door, making his stomach growl. His back remained a mass of pain so he walked carefully, trying not to draw attention to himself.
Mealtime at the Bicks’ house had become a common ritual for the group. Long before they’d been selected to attend the Academy by scouts a month earlier, Elder Proumin had them practicing together, learning from each other. Lunch, breakfast, any meal was a commonly shared event amongst them. The kitchen already bustled with people preparing meals for the healing house’s guests.
As one of the kitchen boys grabbed a tray, a stern middle-aged woman in an apron stopped him. Smile lines around Leta’s eyes belied her annoyed expression. She grabbed a small salt dish off the tray of meats and breads, and placed it back on the counter.
“Elder Harbaden will complain, but his salt intake must be kept to a minimum.” The twins’ mother shooed the boy out to deliver the food. Two crystal-tipped wood wands pinned her curly brown hair into a ball—a gift from their father, and also healing implements that amplified her already significant spirit affinity. She wiped hands on her coarse blue tunic and looked over the kitchen with a critical eye.
Her gaze fixed on the children as they crowded around the large baking table. Tetra watched his mother carefully as she studied his friends. A wry smile crossed her lips as she said, “Excellent! We need help with dishes and scrubbing.”
Laney quieted, the rest of the Jaegen Seven’s eyes went wide as they looked to Tetra and his sister. Tetra swallowed down a laugh at his mother’s joking, since she knew they were all worn out from practicing. The grin he’d fought to stifle a moment before broke free.
Halli walked to her mother, clasping her hands. Batting her brown eyes, she spoke in her best dutiful daughter voice. “Of course, Mother. Just show us what we need to do.”
Pavil stared confusedly between the food being prepped on the table and the dishes stacked in the sink. “But we’re hungry.”
Halli blinked innocently at her mother. Leta looked at her daughter and burst into high, musical laughter.
Elga, Leta’s white-haired older sister, pushed through the group. “You kids are always hungry.” She placed a freshly baked loaf of bread on the table. Flour dusted her lean form from head to toe. “You’re only getting out of dish duty because you’re leaving for Aldamere tomorrow.”
“We’re not kids,” Laney said. “We’re going to be Arch—”
Elga stuffed a piece of bread into her mouth, silencing the girl. It was bad luck to speak of such things before they came true.
“You all go into the other room and we’ll fix you something.” Releasing her daughter’s hands, she nudged Halli towards the home’s interior. Tetra opened his mouth to ask what they would make, but Leta raised a hand and pointed at the other room.
Tetra gave up and led the way into the dining room. Pavil and Malec earned a playful glare and the menacing shake of a knife from Elga as they each grabbed a hunk of bread on their way by.
As the other six entered the other room, Tetra heard his mother. “Halli. Wait in here. I’d like some help, please.”
Tetra shut the door to the dining room behind the group before his mom could conscript him, too. The long table in the dining room was polished from generations of use. An intricate carving of the Twelve Aspects creating the world decorated table’s center—a depiction often found on wall hangings in homes across the kingdom. Tetra had often studied the whorls of the wood with his eyes, tracing the way Vox met Europina and Agleiopan turned Magethia. Such carvings were rare, but the Bicks family’s centuries of public service had allowed them to collect artifacts of beauty and faith through their lineal journey.
The etching depicted the Twelve Aspects of Magic and the Seven Races of Mortality. Despite generations of use, the table remained in perfect condition. Tetra had fond memories of winter solstices during which his father’s siblings had visited from the neighboring village of Kestalt. The long table had seemed crowded then, and grew more so as some brought expanding families of their own. His friends spread out around the table, taking their usual places and waiting for their promised sustenance.
Laney looked longingly at the door. “Now I’m starving! How long?”
Pavil grinned. “I could help you with that.”
“Don’t even think it,” Laney scowled at Pavil. “The last time you did that, I wasn’t hungry for two days. Keep your Pathos to yourself.”
The others laughed. Tetra wondered if they would be separated at the Academy. Their ages would make a difference, and they would probably be put in different classes, but he hoped they’d get to see one another often. Yet he worried they would be soon separated. Aldamere was a large city and the Academy had several thousand students—at least according to Granddad.
Leta came through the door with Tetra’s twin following meekly. Halli looked abashed and wouldn’t make eye contact. His mother moved behind him and placed hands on the back of his shoulders. With a sinking feeling, Tetra realized why Halli looked guilty. Coolness rushed over his skin at his mother’s touch. Glaring at Halli, Tetra narrowed his eyes, ignoring their friends. “I’m fine, Mother, really …” His earlier sour mood flared up again.
“Hush.” She continued delving his back. “It’s inflamed. We’ll have to ask your father what he thinks.”
“I’m going,” Tetra curled his fingers into fists, pushing them against the table as his knuckles whitened.
“Yes, well—” She began, her voice trying to gentle him.
“I’m.
Going.”
The coolness fled as Leta released his shoulders and walked around the table to look him in the eye. “Speak to me like that again and the only place you’ll be going is into the kitchen to help with dishes.”
Features softened alongside her tone as she spoke to him. “I know you want to prove yourself, but if your back is flaring up, we have to consider the strain. This is … troubling.”
Tetra stood, looking away from his family and friends, fists still clenched. Everyone had fallen silent, quietly watching the conflict between Tetra and the Bicks family matron. Leta was normally soft, warm, and friendly. Tetra rarely saw his mom as rigid, or a disciplinarian. She was the very spirit of kindness. But not today. Even Laney was cowed into silence, avoiding her usual vocal complaints about the origin of the next meal.
Steel, like a sword, could be seen beneath her blue eyes. It seemed to Tetra as though his mother’s gaze was daring him to hurt himself, promising she would kill him if he did something stupid. He sighed and slumped his shoulders, then headed for the hallway leading to the rooms at the back of the house.
His mother’s words trailed after him. “You’ll have to sit and speak with me about this before I’ll let you leave, Tetra …”
He entered his room and shut the door, barely resisting the urge to slam it.
***
Chapter 3
Halli Bicks
I don’t see why, Leta.” Viktor’s deep voice penetrated the bedroom door, drifting into the upstairs hallway. Halli sat on a small bench nestled against the railing opposite her parent’s room at the top of the stairs. Knees tucked under her chin, she wrapped arms around her legs. Flames crackled in the fireplace of the Heart room below. Every home in the region committed its largest space to the Heart room … sometimes making it the only room in the house.