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

by Daniel Schinhofen

  “Bishop,” Harrison spat the name as he turned to sneer at her, “I didn’t see you there. It must be your lack of standing, in all ways.”

  Bishop shook her head as she capped the ink and cleaned the pen nib. “Some of us aren’t so lacking in motivation that we wish to be carried on the soft cushions of fat clans. When was the last time you even had to draw your blade, Harrison?”

  “Three years ago, when some bitch made me challenge her,” Harrison growled. “I’ve grown since then. Have you?”

  “You could easily find out,” Bishop said, rising to her feet fluidly and striding toward the desk Hardin occupied, “but I doubt you’ll risk losing face to your clan again.”

  “At least my clan isn’t a shell, forgotten and wasting away. Does your clan head even still draw breath? No one has seen him in twenty years.”

  Bishop did not reply, instead handing the papers to Hardin. “The forms. I shall take him to the Blade now.”

  “Protocol has changed since you last brought a novice,” Hardin said stiffly. “You are to wait for a master to come for you and the novice.”

  Bishop’s expression was bored as she received the new information. “So be it.”

  “If you will fill out these forms,” Hardin told the other proctor, “I shall call for the master so both of your novices can go together.”

  With an annoyed grunt, the other proctor snatched the papers, ink, and pen from Hardin, then stalked off to one of the tables. The novice with him scurried after him, clearly uncomfortable. Bishop did not bother to watch them, but returned to the table she had been at moments ago. Gregory followed her, casting another glance at the other novice.

  “Proctor,” Gregory said softly to not disturb the others, “you fought him three years ago?”

  “Challenges of honor are a common event inside these walls. Three years ago, he challenged me. I won, and he lost standing with his clan and for his clan.”

  “What about your clan, Proctor?”

  “As Harrison said, my clan is a shell of what it was in years past. We’ve lost most of our standing, wealth, and more in challenges to other clans.”

  “You don’t seem upset about it.”

  “I’m sad, but I can’t change the past. No one can. I will do what I can for my clan, as anyone should. I hope one day that it will rise in prominence again, but at this point, it will likely fade into obscurity. As the youngest of my clan, I will probably be the last of it.”

  “And good riddance,” Harrison said loudly as he went back to the desk.

  Bishop’s eye twitched, “Some people don’t know when to be civil. It’s like having a wild hound nearby— it howls and barks as if it’s the biggest beast in the world, but turns tail and runs when a bigger threat comes near.”

  Harrison spun on her, the forms dropping onto the desk, forgotten. “Who is the dog? You don’t bother to even defend your clan. You’re like a beaten cur that whimpers when someone passes by, never fighting for yourself.”

  “If you are confident, you may challenge me,” Bishop said, her back still turned to him. “I will ignore those who aren’t worth my attention.”

  “Bitch!” Harrison hissed. “I challenge you, then! Do you dare back up your barking?”

  Gregory saw the smile that flitted across Bishop’s face before it vanished. “I accept. Terms are as follows: swords only, no aether. The reward shall be the year’s stipend. Do you still wish to press your challenge?”

  Harrison’s hand tightened on the hilt of his sword, his nostrils flaring as he breathed hard. “Accepted.”

  “Tomorrow. The arena, at high sun,” Bishop said nonchalantly, as if the whole thing was beneath her notice. “I’ll arrange a suitable adjudicator.”

  “Fine.”

  A door opening cut off any further conversation as a man in cobalt robes entered the room. He paused for a moment, taking in the atmosphere before sighing. “Proctors, did you arrange a challenge again?”

  “I was challenged, Master,” Bishop said. “All I was doing was waiting for you to arrive.”

  “Lying bi—”

  “Proctor,” the master said sharply, cutting him off, “there is a young lady present. Restrain your phrasing.”

  “Bishop misrepresents, Master, but yes, we have agreed on a challenge for tomorrow.”

  “If you would be so kind as to adjudicate for us, Master Damon?” Bishop asked, rising gracefully from her seated position and bowing, her right fist cupped by her left palm at chest height.

  With another sigh, Damon shook his head. “I hadn’t even thought you might bring a novice this year, Bishop, yet now I have a challenge to oversee in addition to my other duties. Tomorrow at high sun. Now, put aside the differences you both have. Your novices need to be seen to.”

  “As you say,” Bishop bowed again.

  Harrison gritted his teeth, not saying anything as he bowed to the master.

  Damon wore a small smile as he looked at the two novices. “Welcome to the academy, Novices. You have years of learning and growth ahead of you. During your years, you will befriend some, while making enemies,” he paused to glance at the two proctors, “of others. Your old life is behind you. All that stands before you is your service to the empire and the joy of Aether.”

  Gregory got to his feet hurriedly and bowed like Bishop had. “Thank you, Master.”

  The other novice was quick to copy him. Her voice shook with timidity when she said, “Thank you, Master.”

  “Good, you are on the right foot. You will have a week before classes begin, but today is a joyous day, as we will see what your magic is. Follow me.” Damon started for a door to the side of the room, his slippered feet not making a sound as he walked.

  Gregory was quick to follow him. The other novice fell into step with him and the two proctors trailed them. The trip through the building took a few minutes, and involved going down a couple flights of stairs.

  The sub-basement had a dozen iron doors, and two emerald-robed magi stood next to the largest at the end of the hall. Master Damon headed straight for them, and when they got close one of the two opened the door. The magi stood aside and bowed as Master Damon went through, followed closely by the novices and proctors.

  Gregory’s steps slowed as he entered the room. Jutting from the stone floor was a naginata, the blade sunk almost completely into one of the stone tiles. Dozens of different jewels were embedded into the silver bands near the head and endcap of the naginata. The blade and shaft were the blackest metal Gregory had ever seen, drinking in the light from the dozen lanterns that ringed the room.

  “Aether’s Blade,” Bishop whispered reverently.

  “Novices, remove your footwear and step forward to the line,” Damon instructed.

  Gregory blinked, pulling his eyes from the naginata. On the floor, a three-inch-wide slab of the same black metal was embedded in the floor, encircling the weapon. Quickly removing his boots, he stepped forward until his feet touched the line of metal. A shock of cold rushed into his body and made him shiver. Beside him, the other novice also shivered when she stepped on it.

  “I want each of you to reach out and grasp the shaft of the naginata, one at a time,” Damon commanded. “The gems will tell us your magic."

  Gregory glanced at the other novice, who seemed afraid of doing as instructed. Taking a deep breath and reaching out, his hand wrapped around the shaft. His aether spluttered, dying down to the dimmest of banked coals, and his legs sagged. A wave of cold energy rushed up through his feet and into his body. When it reached his aether, the flame inside him roared to life, forcing his legs to straighten, then it rushed out through the hand touching the naginata.

  The room was silent until the largest gem on the very end of the naginata began to pulse faintly with light. To Gregory, that moment seemed to take years. He watched as the gem began to glow, then brighten until it was almost blinding. Finally, after what felt like more long years, the gem’s glow dimmed once more.

  The three
magi in the room eyed the gem with confusion. Damon spoke slowly, “I’ve never seen the ryuite glow, nor any gem glow that brightly. I need to see if it’s recorded.” As the last of the glow faded, Damon cleared his throat and spoke in a normal tone, “Novice, release the shaft and step back.”

  The moment his hand no longer touched the naginata, his aether returned to the small flame it had been. Staggering back a step, Gregory panted, feeling like he had just run for hours. He knelt on the floor, waiting for his strength to return to him.

  The other novice was all but hyperventilating, but she reached out and grasped the weapon. The single black jade embedded in one of the silver bands of the naginata began to flicker. A soft glow grew in intensity inside the gem for a few seconds.

  “A shadow,” Damon whispered. “We haven’t had a new shadow in a dozen years. Today is a momentous day, even considering her eurtik blood.” Clearing his throat, he spoke in a normal tone, “Release the naginata and put your boots on, both of you.”

  When she released the weapon, the novice stepped back and stumbled. Gregory lunged over and caught her, setting her onto the floor gently. “You okay?”

  “Dizzy... sorry. Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Release her,” Harrison snapped.

  Gregory gave her an apologetic smile and moved away. He pulled his boots back on, and was relieved to see her doing the same a moment later.

  “Proctor, your novice will be sought after by many clans,” Damon told Harrison. “I’m sure whoever she joins will be pleased with you, despite her heritage.”

  “Thank you, Master,” Harrison smiled, bowing to the older man.

  “Proctor, your novice strongly sparked the ryuite. Keep a close eye on him. What it means for his magic is unknown.”

  Bishop stared at Gregory for a long moment, her face blank. “I shall do as you say, Master.”

  “Come, the testing is over,” Damon said, clearly eager to leave the room.

  Gregory and the other novice pushed themselves to their feet and shuffled after Damon, both proctors following them. The door shut with a respectful snick when the guards closed it behind them and resumed their places before it.

  Leading them back to the main floor, Damon bowed his head fractionally to the proctors. “See your novices to the dormitory and give them the information they require.”

  “Yes, Master,” Bishop and Harrison said together, bowing to him.

  “Novices, welcome to the academy. I shall pray to Aether for your success. Next week, your instruction begins.”

  “Thank you, Master,” they said in unison, both of them bowing deeply.

  Once Damon was gone, Harrison sneered at Bishop and Gregory. “I’m sure the ryuite is nothing of importance, Bishop. Don’t think you’ve done something worthy of note. I’ll be looking forward to tomorrow. Come, Novice. Keep up.”

  “Yes, sir,” she replied softly, rushing after him.

  Gregory watched him go and exhaled the anger he felt. “Has he always been so… unpleasant, Proctor?”

  Bishop’s lips twitched, “Harrison is who he is. Come now, Novice, I must see you settled, and then I can answer some of your questions about what your time will entail.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Gregory rubbernecked during the walk through the academy grounds, taking in everything he could. Bishop matched his pace, not hurrying him along. He did not understand why a plot of land with gravel, sand, and rocks had been raked. Another plot had small trees that had been shaped to look like normal sized ones, and a single man in an orange robe was carefully cutting pieces off one. A wooden bridge only wide enough for a single person took them over a stone-lined stream that was five feet wide. Multi-colored fish swam in the water, following the path of the stream.

  They eventually came to a long three-story structure made of wood and white paper. He followed Bishop into the building, mimicking her when she paused just inside to remove her boots in favor of light slippers. They went past the front room and Bishop opened a sliding paper door. In the next room was a half-eurtik with furred round ears, sitting at a table.

  “Proctor, another novice?” the woman asked, sipping from a cup of tea.

  “Novice Gregory Pettit,” Bishop said. “I’m to get him settled.”

  “He shall have the room next to the other new novice. Third floor, thirty-third room.”

  “Thank you, Keeper…?” Bishop let the sentence trail off in question.

  “Keeper Dia, Proctor.”

  “Keeper Dia is the one who runs this dormitory, Novice. She is in charge of the servants, and her word is law inside these walls.”

  “An honor, Keeper,” Gregory said, bowing formally to her.

  A slight smile touched Dia’s lips. “Thank you, Novice. If you have questions, you will find me here most of the time.”

  “Let’s not take up her time. Follow me,” Bishop said after the introduction was done.

  Gregory followed Bishop to the third floor. They finally came to the room, which had a plaque on the wall next to it reading, “333.” Opening the door, she motioned him inside. Gregory entered a square room marked off by the same paper walls that the entire structure appeared to be made of. It was twice the size of his old room; a mat and bedding were rolled up in one corner, and a low table and cushions sat in the middle.

  “The wall across from you is the storage area,” Bishop said as she placed her bags inside the door, taking a seat at the table.

  Gregory moved to the sliding doors and found shelving reaching to the ceiling. On one of the shelves, there were two white outfits, some ink and paper, and a clear stone medallion in the shape of ten concentric circles. Putting his bag on the floor inside the closet, he closed the door and took a seat at the table.

  “I will answer simple questions, but before that, let me tell you about what your first year will entail.” Bishop paused, watching Gregory lean forward. “In a week, when instruction begins, you will have a number of classes. Since you reside on the third floor, your first class will be economics, followed by history, aether introduction, and physical conditioning. Physical conditioning is the only class that has all novices attending it at the same time. Each class is just short of two hours long, starting from the sixth bell. There is a break for an hour before physical conditioning so you can eat. If you require more supplies, speak with the keeper. She will impose a limit if she thinks you are being wasteful.”

  “Where can I get food?”

  Bishop chuckled, “The mess hall. You’ll find it easily if you follow your nose. You are allowed two meals and a small snack a day. Your medallion will get you your meals, and it tracks your growth.”

  “How should I divide up when I eat?”

  “That is a good question. Break your fast before classes, snack before conditioning, and have dinner after. I found that to work best for me when I was a novice.”

  “Are there only novices in the building, Proctor?” Gregory asked.

  “Mostly. A few apprentices might still reside within the walls if no clan has accepted them, and maybe an initiate or two.”

  “Is that normal, Proctor?”

  “If they lack power or their magic is not sought after, there would be lack of interest from a clan. For this conversation, you may disregard my position.”

  “Wouldn’t your clan accept them?”

  “As the member is beholden to the clan, the clan is responsible for them,” Bishop explained. “My challenge tomorrow is a good example; if I lose, it will cause loss of standing for my clan, making our position in bargaining with the other clans harder. That is why clans normally do not take the weakest, unless there is another reason. If the magi came from a wealthy background, they might be accepted, as that could open other avenues for them.”

  “The other novice... she has shadow magic. Why is that special?”

  “Shadow magic has many uses, but the core of it is rooted in assassination and information gathering,” Bishop explained. “Both of these things
are highly sought after.”

  “How do I know what my magic is, if the master magi didn’t?”

  Bishop nodded slightly, “Another good question, Novice. You will have a chance during aether introduction to find out, unless Master Damon finds something hidden in the archives first. They show each magic in the class.”

  “Will he?” Gregory asked excitedly.

  “Master Damon has been a master since my time here as a novice. He used to be the head assistant to the chief archivist. If anyone has a chance to find out what the ryuite represents, it is him or Chief Archivist Sarinia. I’m certain he will consult her if he can’t find the answer himself. The one thing he hates is not knowing an answer.”