The Elmorr’Antiens push relentlessly! It is no wonder there are so few Humans allowed here. The pace they set would crush most of the Initiates back in Mocley.
The Human Quarters of the Chandril’elian at Hath’oolan consisted of a small hallway of adjacent rooms crammed into an area behind the kitchen. The hallway was narrow, the rooms were small, and for most of the day, the air was hot and dry from the ovens located on the other side of the wall. These rooms were everything that the rooms the Elmorr’Antien students occupied were not. Not that Alant, nor any Human student for that matter, had ever been allowed to enter the Elmorr’Antien Quarters which sat on the upper floors of the school. The rooms, however, were still a hot topic of conversation amongst the Humans when they were alone and out of earshot of any of their hosts.
Still, the small room assigned to Alant was little different from the room he had occupied in the Chandril’elian at Mocley, and he was unaffected by its bare furnishings and cramped living space. He spent little enough time there anyhow, much preferring to use his free time in the garden area at the center of the school building, with its lush foliage, billowing fountains, and huge, winding hedge-maze.
The weather on the Isle of Elmorr’eth was a treat. The entire time Alant had been on the island, he had seen nothing except blue skies. The climate, always warm and wonderful with a cooling breeze, remained pleasant even into the late aurns of dusk. When he first arrived at the school, he assumed that the lushness of the gardens must have been Essence enhanced—something that was regularly done at the Chandril’elian of Mocley—yet, the more he visited the gardens, the more he realized that the weather of the area was simply conducive to plant life.
“I did hear the Elmorr’Antien students have private bath areas in each of their rooms and tubs lined with gold.” Jerith De’thane, a skinny, ebony-skinned young man about the same age as Alant, sat on the edge of a stone bench bouncing a small silver coin from his homeland of Silaway on one palm. Alant still found the thick accent of the Silawaians hard to follow.
“Oh, Jerith, you do have money on your mind at all times.” Shaith Ku’rin reached out, snatched the coin from mid-air just as it left Jerith’s hand, and slapped in onto the bench next to him. The jade-green eyed girl—by her claim a Princess to some kingdom in Silaway Alant had never heard of—had a mischievous streak that Alant found added to her allure. “They be Initiates just as we, if their quarters be a bit larger than ours, well, they be Elmorr’Antiens after all.”
All of the Human students at the Chandril’elian—there were only four—had gotten into the habit of taking halfmeal together at one of the larger entrances to the hedge-maze. Here, several stone benches—ornately carved and formed from the same smooth white stone like all the other structures on the Isle—as well as a small matching table sat under the shade of a large, broad-leafed tree that Alant did not recognize.
“Aye, mayhaps. Though, I know when I am unwanted.” Quiln Garfer hailed from Ro’Arith, like Alant. Yet their similarities ended there. Alant felt little affinity with the boy, and not just because Quiln was several winters younger than himself.
He is about the same age as my little brother, Arderi.
The thought brought on a pang of homesickness, which Alant ruthlessly pushed away, though a wariness lingered.
Arderi should have been Tested by now. I felt the power in him. Sier Sarlimac said he would notify me once my brother arrived in Mocley. I hope he has not gone and done something foolish!
The main thing that bothered Alant about Quiln was the fact that the boy was not very skilled with the Essence.
There is no doubt the boy can Meld the Essence. He will even make a fine Shaper one day. Yet, why he was summoned to Hath’oolan remains a mystery. I was more skilled than he when I arrived. He has been here near a turn of the seasons already, and is by far less skilled than the rest.
Never knowing his parents, Quiln had grown up an urchin on the streets of Orlis. When the Siers discovered his ability to manipulate the Essence, they whisked him away to the Chandril’elian of Mocley. Alant did not know of the events that had led the boy here.
“Tis because even your own whore mother did no want you.” Jerith scooped up his coin from the bench and shot a hard look at Shaith before he slipped the coin into the side pocket of his robe.
The dark-skinned girl rolled her eyes and glanced back to Quiln with a mother’s look of concern. “Do no pay any attention to him, Quiln. The Hek’kie say they do hate that we Mu’shadar look down on them like inferiors, yet it be they who be quick to cut down any they see as beneath them.”
“Nix. Jerith is right.” The orphan never sounded confident no matter the situation, yet whenever the subject of his parents arose, he was even more self-deprecating than usual. “I know my Ma was probably of a profession that most find repulsive.”
Alant had no misunderstandings about the other two’s right to be here. They matched his learning turn for turn, even though the two from Silaway had been in Hath’oolan for several turns of the seasons. Jerith had the same dark-chocolate colored skin as Shaith, and they were both about twenty winters, yet they were as different from each other as he was from Quiln. Jerith came from a small village he called Kasu’yama, deep in the heart of his homeland of Silaway. His father, some type of soldier, fought in a civil war both he and Shaith referred to as the Great War. His home village was supposed to be famous for it’s warriors, and supported a side referred to as the Hek’kie, which Jerith claimed meant ‘Of the People.’ Shaith said she belonged to a group called the Mu’shadar, or ‘Shelterers of Life’—a disapproving snort came from Jerith when he heard her give the translation. Both he and Shaith agreed that the Great War had been raging for generations, although it was apparent that each had very different views on the reasons for the war itself. It was a topic Alant quickly learned should not be discussed when both were present.
Not wanting the conversation to head anywhere near the “Great War,” Alant returned to the one topic everybody loved to complain about. “I still say our rooms are not that bad.” Ripping his eyes from Shaith’s mesmerizing smile, Alant turned his attention back to his meal and plucked a grape from the basket. “They are much the same as I had in Mocley. Besides, I am here to learn how to Meld the Essence, not for the accommodations.”
Adjusting her position on the short-trimmed grass, Shaith held Alant within her emerald gaze, reached out and took a grape from his food basket. Rolling it between her long, dark fingers, she smiled a smile that had Alant blushing. “Oh, aye! A country bumpkin like you mayhaps knows no different. I, however, be used to a finer stature of life!” If her words held any sting, she washed it away with the twinkle in her eye and the smirk upon her lips.
Feeling his cheeks redden, the way they always did when she picked on him about his fielder upbringing, Alant studied the grape he held with more intensity than it warranted. When he thought his emotions were once again under his control, he popped the grape into his mouth and looked up. Shaith was still rotating the grape between her thumb and finger, and that wicked grin remained on her lips.
My Gods, she is beautiful!
A laugh broke out from Jerith. “Do leave Alant alone! No everyone have the chance to be raised in a palace, Your Highness.” Even though Jerith displayed a graceful bow when he used her title, he always made the honorific seem more an insult than compliment. The two Silawaians had never shown any physical aggressiveness toward each other—they both said violence here in Hath’oolan would betray something they called ‘The Code’, and hurt their honor, as well as the honor of their families. Still, Alant suspected it would not take much to have them go to blows.
Without even looking at her black-skinned countryman, Shaith waved a dismissive hand over her shoulder. “This be between me and Alant, Jerith. Go and seek the statue of the Chandril’chi tree that be in the center of the hedge-maze. If you can no find it, at the least, yo
u can get yourself lost in there! Mayhaps then Alant and I can have some peace together.”
Jerith barked a laugh, catching Alant’s attention. “I do think it be your creamy white skin she finds most attractive. Very few of your kind make their way across the Great Ocean, fewer still travel inland when they do. Yet, I will bet five gold draughts to copper, her father would be burning mad if he found out she had eyes for you.”
Looking back into her eyes, Alant melted under the girl’s piercing gaze. Alant racked his brain for something to free himself from her stare.
She has not stopped pursuing me since my first day here. Her forcefulness borders on the point of being indecent! Not a girl I could take home to Ma. Though, not due to the color of her skin. The girl’s look is almost obscene!
“I have always wondered about something, though.” Alant flinched inside when his words squeaked out, forcing him to clear his throat.
Continuing to look at Alant like a falcon eyeing a field mouse, Shaith held the wicked grin that raised one side of her lips in place. “Aye?”
Feeling the redness spring once more unbidden to his cheeks, Alant rushed his words. “Why have we never been instructed by anyone other than Vanria Delmith?” He forced himself to settle and slow his words. “In Mocley, I had nearly half a score of Siers instructing me.”
“None except Vanria Delmith did ever instruct us since I did be here, and that be longer than any of you.” It was not the first time Jerith had made the claim about being here before Shaith. The subject was another irritation between the two and one that usually sent Shaith to fuming. This time, however, she let the insult slip from the conversation unnoticed.
“Aye, yet for what reason?” Alant had never received an answer that satisfied him as to why only Vanria Delmith instructed them.
Why would they not spread us around more? Why always the same instructor?
Shaith finally ate the grape she had taken from his food basket. “Do you feel that he no teaches us enough?”
“It is not that.” Alant really had no objections to the Vanria’s teachings.
I feel that I have gained much and will gain even more under Vanria Delmith.
“It simply seems odd that we have such limited contact with the Elmorr’Antiens—though we live in the middle of their largest city.” Setting his food basket down on the grass beside him, Alant fiddled with the golden rope belt tied around his waist. “We Humans are relegated to staying only on the first floor. Our living quarters, classrooms, even the small room we use to take meals—all on the ground floor. I have yet to have a conversation with one of the other students here. When the odd chance happens that I pass one in the hall, they do not even glance my way! The only circumstance that allowed me upstairs was my arrival when you took me to see the Hon’Vanria, and I have yet to see him again!”
Reaching out, Shaith patted his hand in a way Alant thought was meant to be comforting. Yet it only managed to bring his thoughts back to the softness of her skin. “They do treat all of us such, and I be sure the Hon’Vanria be busy.”
Jerith snickered. “Oh, Aye. They be too busy for the likes of us.”
Shaith continued as if she did not hear Jerith’s interruption. “This be my third winter here, and I have rarely spoke to any except Vanria Delmith. Still, he seems nice. All of us learn more here than we would from our home Chandril’elian.”
“Aye, you three have.” Head hung low so he seemed to be speaking to the stone tabletop, Quiln sounded more depressed than normal. “I can barely keep pace. I do not understand why they even keep me around. You three outpace me by leaps and bounds. Even Alant! And he has just arrived. I was not even considered at the top of my class back in Mocley. It shocked all the Siers when I was invited to study here.”
The boy is correct. Half my fellow students there had more ability with the Essence.
Alant tried to keep any pity from his voice. “Still, you are here. There must be a reason. Mayhaps Vanria Delmith knows. Have you spoken with him?”
The boy looked horrified. “Nix! I do not wish to bring more attention to myself. Mayhaps he just has not noticed me. If I open my mouth, they might figure out that I do not belong here and whisk me back to Mocley.”
Letting out a giggle, Shaith turned to stare at him. “I be sure Vanria Delmith has no missed you in a class of four! I do agree with Alant, you be here for a reason. Mayhaps they think your ability will grow. Vanria Delmith always be kind to us, even if no others share his attitude.”
As if on cue, their instructor, Vanria Delmith, came striding around a copse of squat fruit trees. The snow-white silk robe draped over his shoulders swallowed his too-thin limbs and lithe, blue-gray body. His sandaled feet whisked across the crushed stone path without making a sound. A second Elmorr’Antien walked by his side wearing a silk robe in much the same cut. As with all the clothing Alant had seen the Elmorr’Antiens wear, the pale blue robe accentuated the thinness of this one’s body rather than hiding it. What surprised Alant was the red-laced trim at collar and sleeve covered with gold embroidery throughout, and the large gold ring, the center of which held a red stone that glinted in the noonday sunlight, perched on the finger of his right hand.
I have never seen any of the Elmorr’Antiens wear either trimmed robes nor jewelry before.
Alant let out an involuntary gasp and bent forward as a ting of pain bore into his chest.
“Yes, my Prince. I do feel that the Humans are advancing. So are the younglings. We have quite a skilled group.” Delmith’s words sounded strange to Alant as he fumbled with the front of his robes to find the source of his discomfort. The first syllable his instructor spoke sounded as if the Elmorr’Antien sang in a flighty, musical tone—nothing Alant recognized as a tongue. He assumed they spoke in their native tongue. Yet, before the first word slipped from the Elmorr’Antien’s lips, Alant knew its meaning. Now he could not tell if his Vanria spoke in the Human tongue or if the weird speech coming from him simply sounded like words Alant recognized. Still, Alant was certain he understood. His hand closed around the Tarsith that dangled from his neck, hidden behind his plain white robe. Frigid cold radiated through the thick cloth. The coldness of it numbed his fingers. “I must agree, my Prince, you are correct about the Essence, it is on a steady increase in power.”
I should not understand the words escaping his mouth, yet somehow I do.
The Tarsith pulsed with cold now. Adjusting his grasp to hold its chain between his fingers, he let the amulet dangle by the loop, being careful to keep it from touching his chest.
The Elmorr’Antiens approached and all four Humans rose to their feet. The students stood with arms at their sides—except for Alant who clutched the front of his robe to keep the cold Tarsith from his skin—waiting patiently to be addressed.
It is weird the Elmorr’Antiens feel it is proper for the superior to address the subordinate first. Back home it is the other way round.
“Greetings, young Initiates.” Vanria Delmith was the only Elmorr’Antien who, as far as Alant knew, had ever spoken directly to any of the Humans in a conversational way. This nagged at the back of his mind. Still, Alant had grown fond of his new teacher.
“Greetings, Vanria Delmith.” The four Initiate’s voices rang together, their answer echoing loud in the normally tranquil garden area.
“Greetings, Prince Aritian.” The other’s added greeting shocked Alant, and he gaped open mouthed at the Elmorr’Antien with the ring. Shaith dropped into a curtsy as the two other young men bent over at the waist in unison. Alant regained his composure and bowed a fraction behind the others. He hoped his awkward bow imitated the others well enough to keep him from looking like a country lout.
A Prince!
The Elmorr’Antien with the ring on his hand, the one the other Initiates had called Prince Aritian, cast a cold gaze over the small group of Humans. The pair came to a stop in the smal
l entrance way that led into the hedge-maze. A shiver ran through Alant that had nothing to do with the Tarsith’s frostiness. The blue-gray being’s face showed no more emotion than any Elmorr’Antien’s face Alant had seen while on the Isle, yet somehow it radiated…
What? Disdain? Hate?
“I still fail to understand why you try so hard with these…” The Prince let a gasp escape his lips. “They are not worth the time.”
Bowing his teardrop shaped head in deference to the Elmorr’Antien at his side, Delmith looked over his students. “I find Humans to be interesting. Full of such raw emotions, ambitions, desires.” His voice took on an airy cadence. “They live such short lives and have much to off—” The Vanria cut his words off as if just realizing to whom he spoke. Turning back to Prince Aritian, who held an obvious look of disgust on his face, Delmith inclined his head once more. “It is only my curiosity, my Prince, of which I speak.”
“Mayhaps, be that as it may.” The Prince looked back at Alant’s group standing in the green grass, their food baskets forgotten by their feet. Alant thought he saw the beings lips tighten into what he could only describe as a sneer. “Do not lose sight of why they are here, Delmith. Becoming attached to any of them will cause you nothing except grief.” The two headed toward the entrance to the hedge-maze, yet the Prince never took his eyes from Alant. “You will need to pick one for the Melding. The Chi’utlan is nearly full. Mayhaps the new one?” A thin, bony finger pointed at Alant. “You said he shows promise, and I do not like the way he looks at me.”
Quickly, Alant diverted his gaze, catching Delmith’s eye as he did. The Vanria had a look that almost seemed mournful painted on it. Seeing this caused Alant to drop his gaze to the ground. “He has just arrived, my Prince, and has not yet reached his full potential. It would be difficult to explain if anything happened to him so soon after his arrival. Besides, I feel if we wait with this one, he may have the greatest chance for success.”
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