by P. A. Peña
“You make a good point,” Cordellia replied. “But Orlando has proven himself on numerous occasions despite being so eccentric. I trust his judgment.”
“Agreed.” Roxanne nodded. “However, I’m much more interested in Virgil’s performance thus far. We noticed you have the ability to levitate. That makes you a natural born pyromancer.”
“Yeah. I was born on August 14th, 3216. The year of the—”
“We know,” Clayton interrupted. “We have your application, remember.”
“Right,” Virgil said, his stomach beginning to twist once more. “You already know that.”
“So,” Cordellia began, “how long have you been levitating?”
Virgil shrugged in his seat. “I don’t know exactly. I guess for as long as I can remember.”
Clayton grunted. “I noticed you showed no effort to hide your talent during your battle.” He folded his arms. “In fact, you’ve shown no regard for secrecy whatsoever. You do know that by doing this, you telegraph your weakness as a pyromancer?”
“I-I do.”
“So, are you arrogant, or just foolish?”
Virgil paused for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. He took a deep breath, and steadied his nerves as best he could. “Neither,” he replied. “The way I see it, I have to overcome my enemy regardless.”
Clayton smiled, prompting Virgil to do the same. “I see,” Clayton replied. “You’re both.”
As quickly as it came, his smile faded. Virgil opened his mouth to say something, but his words were cut off by Roxanne. “Orlando also reports that you’re quite adept at reading and detecting aura signatures. Apparently, you’re the only sponsor he’s had who could see through his test.”
“As I said before,” Clayton interrupted, “Orlando’s praise cannot be taken at face value.”
Cordellia turned to Clayton. “You’re being too critical again. If it were up to you, we’d never recruit any new Crusaders.” Clayton grumbled and leaned back in his chair. “Virgil,” Cordellia resumed, giving her attention back to him. “Tell me what you think about our auras.”
“I’ve certainly never felt anything like them before,” he answered. “The auras pouring out of you all are remarkable.”
“Is that all?” Clayton asked with a roll of his eyes. “If so, Orlando greatly exaggerated your abilities.”
“Well, I’m sure you are deities. It’s the only way you could exude such powerful auras. On the other hand, well, you and Roxanne aren’t completely deity. It’s like you’re auras have been, I don’t know, diluted.”
“Diluted!” Clayton exclaimed, his nostrils flared. “You dare use such language to refer to divinity?”
Despite Clayton’s disapproval, Cordellia couldn’t help but burst into laughter.
“I-I’m sorry,” Virgil stuttered, his face reddening. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
“You’re fine,” Cordellia said as she pulled herself together. “You’re right on the money. Clayton and Roxanne are not full-blooded deities.”
“That’s quite the aura perception,” Roxanne joined in. “Detecting aura is a difficult task in itself, and the aura produced by a deity is by far the hardest to pick up on. Not only could you pick it up, but you’re able to determine that it isn’t fully deity as well. Tell me, Virgil. Can you tell what the other pieces are?”
Virgil looked over to Clayton and instantly regretted it. Clayton was still fuming, and his glare was so piercing, it felt as if Virgil were sitting inches from the sun.
“Virgil?” Roxanne said.
“S-sorry,” Virgil said as he turned back to Roxanne. “I’m afraid I can’t. Your auras are just so overwhelming.”
“Go ahead and try,” Cordellia said. “Really focus your mind.”
“If you insist.” Virgil closed his eyes.
There they were. Three seas of aura. Virgil felt like a piece of driftwood caught amidst a raging tsunami. A yellow aura kept mostly to one area but darted around itself like a spinning top. A black aura was the most turbulent, swaying back and forth, almost melodically. The final white aura, was stagnant and unmoving, but domineering nonetheless. Virgil focused more intently, trying his best to pick it all apart. Sweat formed upon his brow, and his body began to tremble.
“Don’t push yourself too hard,” Roxanne said, breaking Virgil’s concentration. “What we’re asking you to do is something not even we can accomplish.”
“Yes,” Cordellia added. “We didn’t expect you to succeed, but thank you for trying anyway. I’m sure that with proper training and guidance, your abilities can be improved dramatically. I also think that even now, you would do well as a Crusader.”
“Agreed,” Roxanne said. “We could use your aura perception in a variety of different applications. Interrogation. Tracking. Threat detection—”
Clayton huffed. “Enough with the small talk. I say it’s time we get down to what this is really about. Tell me, boy. Why do you want to become a Crusader?”
The question was simple, and yet, it gave Virgil pause. Of course, he knew the answer, but he couldn’t very well just say it. “Why do I want to be a Crusader?” he repeated.
“Precisely. Let me explain something to you. There are three types of people who take our exam: those who wish to uphold justice, those seeking fame and fortune, and those in search of vengeance. Which one are you?”
Virgil remained silent, unsure of how he should respond.
“The only wrong answers here are those that are not the truth,” Cordellia said, her voice the essence of tranquility.
Virgil took in a deep breath and braced himself. “I’d like to tell you that I want to uphold justice,” he began, “but in all honesty, I’m seeking vengeance.”
Clayton sat up in his chair. “Go on.”
“A witch took everything from me,” Virgil resumed, his chest feeling tighter the more he spoke. “I think about it every day. It’d be a lie to tell you anything different, but the truth is it’s too late to save my family. However, as a Crusader, I can spare others from the same suffering I’ve endured.”
Clayton rolled his eyes. “As I expected. The typical hunter response.”
“Clayton!” Cordellia scolded. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit harsh?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“Cordellia’s right,” Roxanne said. “Loss isn’t easy to overcome. We can help Virgil—”
“You two are far too soft,” Clayton interrupted. “These hunter types are all the same. They are loose cannons and foolhardy to their core. The Alliance cannot afford to employ a trigger-happy mage more concerned with putting a witch’s head on a pike than upholding peace.”
Virgil bit into his tongue. It was painful, sure, but he sincerely doubted he could convey his feelings in a way that wouldn’t incite violence. Instead, he sat as still as he could, trying with all his might to ignore the rage bubbling inside him.
“I don’t blame him for it,” Clayton continued. “It’s just the way hunters are.”
“That’s enough!” Roxanne said. “You’re taking this way too far. You know the Alliance has no quarrel with hunters so long as they work within the bounds of the law.”
“Perhaps it would be best if you remove yourself from the interview,” Cordellia suggested.
“I will do no such thing,” Clayton replied. “I am a king just as you are. If I’m not here, I shudder to think what riffraff you two will pass.”
Roxanne glared at Clayton, her eyes narrowed to mere slits. “Are you questioning my competence?”
Clayton didn’t budge. “Anyone with common sense can tell this boy is not Crusader material. In this first phase alone, he has shown a clear disregard for his own safety, poor decision-making skills, foolishness, and worst of all, arrogance. I firmly believe that if he were to become a Crusader, we’d be lucky if he only gets himself killed.”
The room fell silent, Clayton’s words hanging in the air. Virgil wanted desperately to speak up. Not to defend
himself, but rather, to declare that the Alliance could kiss the entirety of his ass as he strolled out the room. Still, he sat, his fists shaking under the table.
“As I said, I don’t blame Virgil for the position he’s in. I mean, just look at his father. Are we really so quick to forget how much havoc Danté wrought in his search for his missing son? Can we really expect his lineage not to be as much of a nuisance as he was?”
Virgil shot up from his chair, filled with a raging fury. Blue flames wrapped his hands and lit the room with an azure glow. “Don’t you dare speak ill of my father in my presence!”
Clayton stood up as well, his stone-cold gaze fixed on Virgil. His brown eyes turned to a glowing golden yellow. “You’d best quell those flames, boy, lest I show you why I’m king of the Amber division.”
As he stared into Clayton’s eyes, he wanted desperately to burn Clayton’s mouth shut. Nothing would have pleased him more than to see smoke billowing from Clayton’s jaw, but he knew it wouldn’t be worth it. Grinding his teeth, Virgil recalled his flames and turned to walk away.
“Virgil, wait,” Roxanne said.
He didn’t respond.
“Let him go,” he heard Clayton say. “We’re done here.”
Virgil exited the room. As he slammed the door behind him, Kaenara approached him.
“That was quick,” Kaenara said. “Allow me to escort you back to your room.”
“Don’t bother,” Virgil snapped. “I can find my own way.”
He stormed off, but Kaenara followed behind him. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
With a quick turn of his head, Virgil looked back at the kurara, his nostrils flared. Kaenara stopped dead in his tracks, clearly paralyzed by Virgil’s gaze. Without saying another word, Virgil pressed on into the night. Alone.
Chapter 13
Virgil entered his room, finding it empty. He lay on his bed and mulled over his options. Rage clouded his thoughts, bubbling inside him like pools of lava pushing against the earth’s surface. His breathing was heavy and slow, and his skin was hot to the touch.
“I should have never come here. Dad hated these people for a reason.” He stood back up and began pacing the room. “I need to get out of here. If I make it to the beach, I can fly to the nearest island.”
Virgil then stopped and placed his hands over his eyes. “Of course, I have no idea where that is. Or where I am. Never even heard of this shithole before today. It doesn’t matter.” He walked over to the table. “If I pace myself, I can fly for days with a full mana pool.”
He reached for his satchel and paused. A block of ice rested on his bag. It was carved into a series of letters that read Congratulations, Virgil!
Virgil smiled, and his nerves unwound a bit. “I can at least say goodbye.”
With his bag in hand, Virgil left his room. He focused his mind, searching for Aurelia’s aura signature. In no time at all, he found it and began making his way to her. He sauntered down the hall, making slower and slower progress until finally, he stopped altogether. He stared down the empty hallway. “She’d only try and talk me out of it. It’s best if I just leave.”
Virgil turned around and began looking for the central courtyard. Having been unconscious for his first trip through the castle, it took a while for him to reach his destination. The courtyard was huge and decorated with four rows of flower beds. One row was black, another yellow, one red, and the last one white. In the middle of the grass field sat a huge fountain adorned with four sculptures spouting water.
A tiger with long blade-like spikes running down its spine faced west. A tortoise with a massive shell faced north and, facing south, a phoenix beat its mighty wings. Finally, a dragon sat in the middle. It was humanoid in shape, and had no wings.
Virgil walked along the stone path, stopping just short of the fountain. “All right,” he said, tightening his fists. “I know you’re hiding over there. Why don’t you just come on out?”
“Huh,” a woman said from the other side of the fountain. Out stepped Olivia, a bewildered look on her face. “Oh, Virgil. It’s just you. You scared me. I thought you were one of the kings.” She took notice of the satchel draped over Virgil’s shoulder. “Wait. You’re not leaving, are you?”
Virgil resumed walking. “I am,” he said, blunt as a wooden club.
“What for? Don’t tell me you’re giving up already?”
“Yup. I was crazy to think I needed their help.”
Olivia walked after Virgil. “Well, that’s really a disappointment, then.”
“It’s really not. Coming here was a mistake.”
“That may be,” Olivia said, a hint of intrigue in her tone. “Or perhaps you’re making a mistake now.”
Virgil rolled his eyes. “I doubt that. I shouldn’t be here, and the Alliance doesn’t want me here. They made that abundantly clear.”
“Why do you think that? Did something happen?”
Virgil forced a chuckle. “Oh yeah, something happened, all right. Now, if you excuse me, I’d really like to—”
Virgil felt a tug on his sleeve and stopped. As he turned around, he opened his mouth to tell Olivia off. However, he found himself incapable of doing so. Virgil searched for the words to say, but all he could focus on was how her hazel eyes twinkled in the moonlight.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” Olivia said as she pulled Virgil over to the fountain. “I’m sure you’re blowing things out of proportion.”
Reluctantly, Virgil placed his satchel on the ground. He sat down on the fountain’s edge alongside Olivia, and explained what had happened in his interview.
Olivia laughed. “That does sound pretty terrible, but it’s nothing to worry about.”
“Are you kidding me?” Virgil exclaimed. “I almost assaulted a king of the Crusader’s Alliance. If that’s not bad enough, he’s also half-deity. I think worrying is the least I can do right now.”
“Well, it’s actually worse than that. Clayton’s grandfather is the Great Deity of Earth, Olmir.”
Virgil took a deep breath as he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Thank you for clarifying that,” he said with a sarcastic flair. “It’s a miracle I was able to walk away alive.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that.”
“And why not? Clayton’s family is literally responsible for birthing Geomancy into the world. He could have crushed me into dust if he wanted to.”
Olivia held up her finger. “Exactly. Honestly, I’m a bit surprised you haven’t figured it out yet.”
A puzzled look overtook Virgil’s face. “Figured what out?” he said.
“Duh. The second phase of the exam is still going on.”
“What makes you say that?” he asked, still failing to grasp what the elf meant.
“Just think about it for a minute. You were in a room alone with three kings. If they wanted to, it’d be no effort at all for them to boot you off the island. The fact that you’re sitting here with me is proof the exam isn’t over for you.”
Virgil pursed his lips. “Let’s say you’re right. If this really isn’t over, then what’s the point of it all? What exactly am I still being tested on?”
Olivia stood up and took a few steps forward. “They told you, didn’t they?” she asked as she turned around. “I imagine they gave the same speech to everyone. Their whole rhetoric about making sure they only accept applicants who could mentally withstand the pressure. If the kings manage to get you all frazzled up and you run away, then how can the Alliance count on you when things get really tough?”
Virgil paused as he pinched the bridge of his nose once again. He didn’t want to admit it, but she was right. He had been put to the test, and he had failed. Olivia picked up his bag and handed it to him.
“Thank you,” Virgil said as he took it. “I owe you one.”
“That one’s on the house,” Olivia replied, flashing a smile.
Virgil stood up and draped his satchel over his shoulder. “Guess
I really lucked out finding you out here. What are you doing out so late anyway?”
“Oh, nothing much. I know I shouldn’t be out wandering the castle at night, but I had to get another look at this courtyard. It’s just so beautiful, and I didn’t really get a chance to look at the flowers when I first arrived.”
“I see. You must really like flowers then.”
“Guilty as charged. Typical forester, right.”
“Yeah,” Virgil said with a frown. “I suppose so.”
Olivia gave Virgil’s shoulder a playful shove. “Ugh. Don’t give me that look.”
“I-I’m sorry,” he stuttered, his face heating. “You just caught me off guard. I mean, I’ve never cared about revealing the sorcery I was born with, but I know others guard that secret with their life.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “This isn’t a battle, Virgil. You don’t have to be so serious.”
“I know. It’s just. You really shouldn’t reveal information like that. Not unless you’re prepared for the disadvantage that brings.”
Olivia frowned as she looked at Virgil. However, her frown quickly turned to a grin, and an uneasy chill ran up Virgil’s spine. Olivia leaned in close, so close in fact, she was merely a breath away. Not a word was spoken as the two stared into each other’s eyes.
Virgil’s face burned hot, and his mind raced. All he could think about was the luminescence of Olivia’s eyes. The sweet scent of berries that hovered off her body. Her breasts that filled the folds of her tunic in just the right way.
Olivia grabbed Virgil’s shirt. She pulled him even closer, and his heart pounded vigorously in his chest like drummers in a marching band. Just as their lips were about to touch, Virgil closed his eyes, awaiting the beauty that would be his first kiss. Olivia tilted her head, missing Virgil’s lips and hovered right next to his ear.
“You have to learn to lighten up,” she whispered.
Slowly, she ran her fingers across his cheek as she walked back towards the castle. “I’ll see you around,” she called, her tone soft and inviting. “Hopefully, you’ll be a bit more relaxed next time we meet.”