Aether's Blessing (Aether's Revival Book 1)

by Daniel Schinhofen

  Passing them, Bishop moved as if she was having a pleasant walk, but her speed would have been hard to match at a run for Gregory. As they watched her go, Gregory wondered how long it would take for him to be able to duplicate that feat.

  The group reached the inn just as Bishop left the building. She had a bag over her left shoulder and a fist sized object in her right hand. Her clothing was still dirty and covered in blood, and her face had small smears of both. Seeing them, she smiled and took a large bite of what she was holding.

  “Good! Let’s be going. We have many miles to cover, and novices always move slowly.”

  Gregory looked back at his friends. “Gunnar—”

  “I’ll look after her for you.”

  “We will,” Eloria said.

  “Ria…” Gregory said, touching her cheek gently.

  “Go be the magi you were always meant to be,” Amoria said, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “You’ll always be in my heart, but I will do as I promised.”

  He kissed Amoria hard, the kiss slowly becoming softer, before he stepped back from her. “Goodbye, Ria.”

  “Novice, time to go,” Bishop said firmly, but not unkindly. “Start walking.”

  Choked up, Gregory turned away from his old life and started down the road toward the next village. The feeling of finality made him cold, even with the aether inside him keeping him warm.

  Bishop left him to his thoughts, letting the pace be slow to start with.

  Falling into step with her after a while, Gregory’s eyes grew large when he realized what she was eating. “Is that the heart, Proctor?”

  “Yes,” Bishop chuckled. “It always shocks people when you do this. I tempered my impulse to eat it raw. You gain more aether that way, but non-magi tend to react badly if they see it.”

  “Would I gain aether if I did?”

  She gave him a bloody smile as she tore another chunk free. “Yes, but it would be a greater risk for you, Novice. Your body is not tempered yet, and the aether of the bane wolf would run rampant through your system. You will address me as proctor or ma’am anytime you wish to speak with me. Understood?”

  “Yes, Proctor.”

  “Good. Now save your breath. We’ll be moving as fast as you are able.” Bishop’s easy pace grew faster until Gregory had to jog to keep up.

  ~*~*~

  Gregory did his best, but he was never the best at physical exertion, having his mother’s slight build. When he flagged for the third time, Bishop sighed.

  “You’ll have to do better,” Bishop said, pulling some salted meat from her bag and passing it to him. “Chew and suck, do not swallow. It will dissolve with time.”

  Gregory took the meat with a puzzled expression and stuck it in his mouth. The flavor of the bane wolf was unpleasant, leaving a sharp and tangy taste on the tongue. He chewed slowly, hoping he would grow accustomed to it.

  “Now run,” Bishop said, prodding him sharply. “Run until I say stop.”

  Gregory started to jog, but Bishop did not let him stay at a jog. She kept prodding to make him run. Grimacing, Gregory stretched out his legs and began to run, wondering how long she would make him do this. Bishop stayed right behind him, a smirk on her lips as she finished the bane wolf heart.

  Miles flew by, and Gregory came to realize he should not be able to keep the pace he was setting. He laughed when he realized he was moving faster than he ever had in his life, the joy of it making him grin.

  It was almost an hour later when his legs suddenly stopped responding and he went head first into the dirt. Rolling to a stop, Gregory winced as he sucked in air, covered in sweat.

  Bishop laughed when she came to a stop beside him, “Didn’t realize the meat had vanished. Get up. We’ll walk for a bit now.”

  Gregory grunted. His right knee felt stiff as he got back to his feet, but the sensation quickly subsided. He drank from his canteen as he walked, suddenly aware of being thirstier than he could ever recall. He checked to see if he was injured, but did not see any gashes.

  “You need to keep better track of everything you are doing,” Bishop told him. “You fell because the meat was used up and you didn’t slow.”

  “The jerky did that…? Proctor?” Gregory asked, adding the title belatedly.

  “Bane beasts have many benefits for the people who can touch aether,” Bishop replied. “The drawback for you is that you can’t ingest much of it without negative feedback. The jerky especially, because it wasn’t prepared correctly. Out here on the fringes, that is to be expected.”

  “Proctor, how do I grow stronger?”

  Chuckling, Bishop shook her head. “That is what the first year is about; learning, growing, and choosing.”

  “Will there be a time when I can ingest more of the wolf, or a better prepared version of it, Proctor?”

  “The food at the academy is made to help you grow. You will learn to accept the aether it gives and store it for use when you wish instead of using it for instant energy to run.”

  “My aether mentioned needing to choose a path. Do you know what it meant, Proctor?”

  “Choosing the way your aether grows. During the novice year, you’ll have to pick between body, mind, or spirit.”

  “You said that hard paths make the best magi, Proctor. Which path is the hardest?”

  “The hardest path is annoying those who are there to help you,” Bishop replied. “Speaking of which, it’s time to move fast again. You’ll find out what academy encouragement is when you start to flag.”

  Gregory took off running, not wanting to find out before he had to. Bishop watched him run and nodded as she kept pace easily.

  Asking about paths and which are harder than others? Maybe you’ll be worth watching, even more than I had thought. Speaking to your aether though? Hmm... Bishop focused on Gregory, thinking.

  ~*~*~

  Gregory coughed as he pushed himself back to his feet again. Sweat was pouring down his face. She’s a demon! She smiles every time she pushes me harder. Even the breathing techniques mother taught me can’t help me keep up with Bishop’s demands...

  “Come on, Novice. Your friend wouldn’t have had as many issues as you are,” Bishop said, chiding him for the tenth time as the sun began to descend toward the western horizon.

  Gregory groaned. If I slow again, she might not just prod me. That last strike was bruising.

  Bishop was beside him in an instant, her voice barely audible as she gracefully glided alongside him, “Worried about the next hit, Novice? Do you think it’ll be easier than this at the academy? What I’m doing is mild compared to what is coming for you. You’ll grow or break, but either way, you will serve the empire.”

  He winced, but did not reply. Instead, he kept putting one foot in front of the other. Is she right? Or is this just her goading me to keep me moving? Gregory waffled back and forth on the question as they rounded the curve in the road.

  “There is Linom,” Bishop sighed. “Walk and recover,” she told Gregory. “I’ll see you when you get there. I need to arrange our stay, but don’t dawdle.”

  “Yes, Proctor.”

  Bishop nodded, her legs stretching as she began to run. Gregory watched her go in awe as chunks of dirt flew up behind her.

  “Wonder if I’ll be able to do that one day?” Gregory muttered.

  He did not stop moving, but was grateful to finally have a chance to breathe and not get slapped for it. Thoughts of what the academy was going to be like filled his head as he closed in on the village ahead of him.

  Chapter Seven

  Gregory woke slowly, groggily. The dream of a giggling woman using him for her own pleasure lingered in his mind. “What in Aether’s name did I drink last night?”

  The almost pitch black room held traces of dawn creeping through the closed shutters. Sitting up, he pushed the coverings aside. Stretching as he got to his feet, he winced. His legs were doing their best to support him after all the torture from the day before.

  “
We should be in the village all day for their age day,” Gregory muttered as he started dressing in his second set of clothes. “I need to get some water and wash the other set.”

  When he was dressed, he left the room and met Bishop leaving her room. She nodded when she saw him, “Good, I don’t need to wake you. You are to shadow me all day unless I say otherwise. We’ll start with breakfast.”

  “Yes, Proctor.”

  Bishop moved past him, leaving barely an inch between them, and Gregory pressed against the wall to give her more room. Following her downstairs, he took the seat she pointed him to. She went to the bar and slapped it hard.

  The innkeeper poked his head out of the back, the rebuke dying on his lips when he saw who it was. “Yes, Proctor?”

  “Breakfast for both of us.”

  “You want me to use the meat you gave me?”

  Bishop’s easy smile dimmed, “Are you questioning my judgement?”

  Going pale with beads of sweat forming on his forehead, the man shook his head. “No, never, Proctor.”

  “I recall your father,” Bishop said easily, but her gray eyes looked like they were sparking with flame. “Does he still limp?”

  Swallowing hard, the man bowed to her, “Please, Proctor, forgive me.”

  “Of course,” Bishop said smoothly. “Today is a day of celebration and hope, not a day for pain and regrets. Make sure the food is prepared as I ordered. Go.”

  The man fled the room, and Gregory felt his own scalp prickle at the power that radiated from Bishop. Bishop watched the tavern keeper flee and moved over to sit with Gregory.

  Seeing Gregory’s frown, she shook her head. “Novice, you don’t realize the power the magi wield, do you?”

  Gregory frowned, “They protect the empire. Their power—”

  “No,” Bishop cut him off. “I meant power like I just exerted. Magi are listened to or there are consequences for those without power.”

  “What if the magi is wrong?”

  “Magi can’t be wrong,” Bishop said simply. “It is only because of us that the empire stands. We protect the lesser people, and in return, they do as we require. Did you think me harsh with him?”

  Gregory frowned, “I was always told the magi are the shield that protects us, but none of the rest.”

  “You know how the empire works though, surely? The strong are in charge, and those under them help as required.”

  “The strong lead,” Gregory nodded. “That is true, but they guide everyone. They don’t demand.”

  “Ah, the fringe is so different,” Bishop said and a hint of wistfulness filled her voice. “This is why I am the proctor for the northern fringe.”

  “Proctor, why do you keep calling it the fringe?”

  “The common name given to outlying villages such as yours. You are considered foolish and backward by most of the empire. You will need to be cool, calm, and ready for the barbs that come your way.”

  Fast footsteps announced the innkeeper as he brought over a tray and two cups of tea.

  “You kept me waiting,” Bishop snapped, her eyes cold.

  “I’m sorry, Proctor,” the man said, bowing, the tray still in his hands.

  “Set it on that table,” Bishop commanded. “Bring us a kettle of mint.”

  “Right away,” the man said.

  “Novice, enjoy the meal,” Bishop said as she took a majority of the food. “After breakfast, we will walk around the village. I will leave you alone for an hour or two so I can check the surrounding area, so be on your best behavior.”

  “Yes, Proctor,” Gregory said, wondering about Bishop’s harshness toward the innkeeper.

  ~*~*~

  After a silent breakfast, Gregory followed Bishop into the village. The villagers stared at them with a combination of fear and awe, and those who were coming of age stared at Gregory with envy. Bishop stopped and talked with the craftsmen and the elder of the town, inspecting the square where the stage and decorations waited.

  Two hours after they had stepped outside, Bishop turned to him. “I’m going to check the area around the village to make sure no bane beasts prowl the area. While I’m gone, you represent the empire. Do not disappoint me.”

  “I’ll do my best, Proctor.”

  Giving him a wintery smile, Bishop headed away, her hand tapping the hilt of her sword as she went. Gregory watched her go and a feeling of anxiety crept over him.

  Should I check the merchants? I have the money from the village, so maybe I can find something good. Yes... I should see about a new tunic, at least. My other one was pretty well destroyed by the bane wolf.

  The first merchant had a collection of tinkered items for sale, from pots and pans to small blades, but nothing Gregory was interested in. The next merchant was a jovial fat man who laughed a lot. His cart was full of spices, herbs, and other cooking ingredients. Going to the third cart, Gregory felt hopeful, seeing the colorful cloth draped over the side of this wagon.

  “Ah, are you seeking to buy something?” the lanky, bald merchant asked with a grin. “Perhaps something for a young lady? I have a number of dresses that would be well received.” With a deft movement, he presented an emerald dress to Gregory. “Made with fine cotton.”

  Gregory shook his head. “You have it wrong. I have no woman to buy for.” A pang of guilt made him think of Amoria and how that dress would make her face light up. “I hope to buy a tunic or two for myself.”

  “Ah, I can do that, young sir. My tunics are on the other side of my cart. I even have one made from a wonderful light blue silk.”

  “I need solid tunics that can stand the rigors of travel,” Gregory said, following the merchant to the far side of the cart.

  “Ah, travel tunics? Yes, I have a number of them, as well,” the merchant said, his excitement dimming. “Here are a dozen. Let me know when you have found what you want.”

  Gregory thanked him and looked through the selection. After some time, he had two tunics; one light brown and the other green. “Sir, these two tunics? How much?”

  “Seventy vela for both,” the merchant smiled.

  “That much?” Gregory said, thinking about all the time he had spent in the Delarosa’s home. “The stitching is good, but not great, and the material would be better suited for the winter months, not the summer months that we are in.”

  The merchant stared at Gregory for a long moment. “You aren’t from this village, are you?”

  “I’m from Alturis,” Gregory replied.

  A dawning light began to fill the merchant’s eyes. “Would you happen to know the Delarosas?”

  “I do,” Gregory admitted. “They are shrewd when it comes to cloth.”

  The merchant chuckled, “You were the one that hung around with their daughters. Why are you here and not there?”

  “I’m on my way to train at the academy.”

  “Magi...” the merchant said softly.

  “A novice,” Gregory corrected. “I would be interested in buying them, just not for seventy.”

  “I meant no disrespect, magi,” the merchant said humbly. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have asked for so much to start. Forty for the both of them.”

  “I took no offense,” Gregory said, handing over the forty vela. “These clothes are worth forty, at the least.”

  The merchant bowed his head, accepting the coins without counting them. “It is an honor to serve, magi. If you have need of more clothing, my family has a small shop in the lower ring of Wesrik. Tell them you spoke with Nicholas Lagrand.”

  “Wesrik is the home of the academy,” Gregory said. “I’ll likely be there in a week or two. Thank you.”

  “What is your name, so I can listen for news of your journey?” Lagrand asked.

  “Gregory Pettit,” Gregory replied.

  “May Aether guide you,” Lagrand bowed his head again.

  “May the Traveler watch over your journey, as well,” Gregory said.

  Gregory headed for the inn to drop off his n
ew tunics and to see about washing his old one.

  Chapter Eight

  I can’t believe Gunnar and Amoria each gave me half their reward from the bane wolf, Gregory thought as he hung up his clothing so they could dry. Never thought I’d see a five-hundred vela coin in my life, but now I have two of them.

  “Novice,” Bishop said, opening the door to the room, “it is almost time. Follow me.”