“I wasn’t trying to earwig,” Wayran said. “I wasn’t trying to start anything. I just had a similar idea, I guess.”
Matoh was trying not to care about what Wayran did or said today. He would not have his day spoiled, he had been waiting too long for this. But try as he might, he could feel his irritation rising, could feel himself getting wound tighter and tighter by his brother’s mere presence. That’s probably why he’s here right now, just to annoy me. To get under my skin.
The malice between them was palpable. It seemed to buzz around them like some giant insect, incessantly drilling through their ability to ignore it. But Matoh would ignore it in this place. He tightened his jaw and forced himself to stand and acknowledge his brother. Mum deserves to see our good side.
He was fairly certain Wayran wouldn’t start anything here either. When they were still very young, they had started fidgeting during one of their visits. A few poked-out tongues at each other had led to the all too recognisable play-hitting which could get under the skin of adults no end. Their usually unflappable father had snapped almost immediately and properly smacked the both of them. “Not here, damn you!” The immediacy of their father’s anger had shocked them both. “You will show respect in this place, or so help me ...” The threat had not needed to be voiced, as the blaze in their father’s eyes had never been so hot.
Remembering that day, Matoh forced himself to try and take the high road. Each word felt like a stone scraping its way out of his throat. “She would be happy with this, you know. Both her sons going to the Academy she had always dreamed of creating,” he said as he stood up. He moved over and let Wayran kneel down to touch the name carved into the stone.
Matoh hoped the gentle reminder of their family’s strong military tradition would knock some sense into Wayran and make him see how lucky he was to be here.
Wayran said nothing. Matoh watched as his brother crossed his hands in front of him and bowed his head towards the tree. Perhaps he isn’t here to annoy me. He took a deep breath to calm himself, and then joined his brother in quiet contemplation.
Some people thought it odd that the Silver Lady’s tree was not given a place of reverence, but Matoh knew that was how she would have wanted it. She had been a soldier through and through; fame and glory were merely a consequence of doing her duty: an addendum to her faithful service.
He touched the tree again. He wished she could see him, see them both. Two of her boys, selected to come to the Academy and hopefully rise to become full Syklan Magi Knights. It was a high honour to have one son or daughter selected, let alone two.
Matoh knew their mother’s name gave them an advantage, so he had forced himself to be as good or better than others at all of the criteria needed for selection. He had trained harder than anyone else at the city schools. Many knew who he was, who his parents were, so he made sure no one could doubt his worth. No one would say his spot was given to him because of his mother. No, he had earned his place, and that was why what his father had done to get Wayran in was so galling.
“It’s a high honour you know, Wayran. You should be proud,” he said. He couldn’t help the edge of anger in his voice. The self-imposed calm was being eaten away by the acidic feelings churning deep within him.
Wayran stood, and turned to face him.
Matoh set his jaw and shoulders, ready for the fight. Do it, he thought, I bloody dare you.
Wayran stared at him blankly, but Matoh could see the irritation behind his brother’s eyes.
Orcanus’s breath, he knows how to wind me up! He ground his teeth and clenched his fists. Do it. I’ll give you the first shot before I knock your damn head off.
And then Wayran turned and just walked away.
Matoh’s blood boiled and he took a step forward.
A wet red leaf somehow fell directly onto his face.
He jerked back in surprise and the small braid he kept behind his left ear fell out of place and softly slapped him in the face.
Matoh wiped the leaf off his face and turned back to the tree, chuckling to himself.
“Alright, I deserved that,” he said to the silent, silvery form. He chuckled again as he tucked his braid back into place before sweeping his hand through the spiked stripe of hair atop his head. His hand found the smooth bark once more. “I suppose throttling my own brother on Initiation Day would be a bad way to start. Fair point.” Then he looked up to the red canopy. “I love you, Mum. Wish me luck.”
He kissed his hand and touched it to the tree before he turned to rejoin the tide of initiates heading towards the Academy and their future.
Two more tear-shaped leaves drifted down behind Matoh as he left, and settled on the exact spots where he and Wayran had knelt.
18 - Pressure - Adel
Ronaston Mihane bound the Nine Nations together much more thoroughly by choosing New Toeron as the new capital than he did through the might of his Syklans and military prowess.
New Toeron had always been an international city for as long as anyone could remember. New Toeron, the capital of Bauffin, neutral in most wars, renowned for its trade, its proximity to the Chronicler Archives, its natural harbour, and relative proximity to many of the other nations, was the obvious choice for his Military Academy of Salucia.
By building upon the ruins of Durand Castle and linking it to the famous Oratorio, the Academy became a hub of military, spiritual, and intellectual excellence. Singer Theologians, Chroniclers, warrior elites, the infamous Syklan order, intellectuals from all over Salucia, and artisans from every background imaginable, including those who craft the wondrous santsi globes, have all made the Academy a beacon of ingenuity and excellence within the new Salucian Union. It is meant to symbolize an era of peace and prosperity for all citizens of the nine nations.
- Chronicler Simon Rathelson in A Common History: 1851– 2850 ATC,
45th Edition, 2850
Adel felt the rumble of the cobbled street through the seat of the small cart-for-hire, but she barely noticed. Her mouth seemed to be in a constant state of dropping open as she tried to take in the grandeur of the eternal city around her. There were smells and sounds, both amazing and disgusting, which she had never experienced before. People of all shapes, sizes and colours were pressed together so tight that she wondered how they could move, let alone flow around the cart in some sort of instinctive trek through the tight street.
It was madness.
The vibrant colours of clothing, the massive buildings closing in on all sides – nothing seemed less than a full three stories, walling her in. Some of the houses even leaned in over the street. It was just too much to take in, and she had been in a kind of daze for most of the ride now.
Finally, the cart stopped beside the biggest gateway Adel had ever seen. Her entire house could have fitted beneath this archway, with room to spare. She could see row upon row of towering red-leafed trees through the gates, and beyond that … she gasped.
There it was.
“Naira,” Adel whispered, and her hand shot out to find her friend’s arm. “Look.”
“I see it,” Naira whispered back. “We’re here. We’re actually here.”
The great Academy of Salucia stood at the end of the tree-lined path before them. Adel recognised it from the sketch Naira had bought off a sailor and kept in her bag. Dark stone, with slanted ceramic tiled roofs which wound along the stone cliffs like some great beast; and above it all was a soaring tower made from dozens of red layers, each with slanting roofs slashing into the sky above. The Red Tower, Adel thought with wonder, home to the Syklan order, and across from the magnificent tower shone the three golden domes of the Oratorio. The two buildings hovered above the Academy like proud parents.
Adel couldn’t believe she was now going to call this home.
A lance of pain shot through her arm, and her revelry vanished.
No! she thought. Not now!
Adel ground her teeth and grabbed the iron rim of the cart’s wheel, and let a burst o
f energy that she had siphoned flow into the iron. Her hand jumped away as the iron grew red hot for an instant. She had released the torrent of siphoned energy just in time, and no one else had seen.
The red glow in the iron faded, but Adel’s panic grew.
The uncontrolled siphoning was getting worse with every passing hour. Her time on the ferry had been torturous. Her last attack had been last night, when she had awoken already siphoning. She had leapt out of bed and grabbed her father’s black sword. Sparks had shot off the dark blade, almost as if it were happy. She had started to cry and she hated herself for the weakness. The sword felt cold, and somehow deep, in her hands. Yet, horribly, while she was holding it in that moment, she had felt as if she were not alone. What would her father think, a trained warrior of Halom whimpering in the darkness? It was shameful. Yet despite her shame Adel had stayed up for the rest of the night until the early rays of sun rose to show them the coastline of Bauffin Island, and there was no one else in her room.
Ghosts in the sword? she had chastised herself. What would she think of next? Singing trees, or chatty stones? She was losing control of the situation, and Adel was a person whose entire world centred on control.
The sword at best would only ever be a type of crutch in re-establishing control over her siphoning. Yet for now it was the best she had.
Adel made sure no one watched her get down from the cart, as her legs were wobbly from the episode. Lack of sleep and another attack now had left her drained and exhausted.
Her hand dug through the packs on the cart and found the hilt of the black sword. Touching it reassured her, but she knew she had to move quickly, or else the next attack might just finish her.
“Come on, we need to get going,” she said, grabbing her rucksack from the back of the cart.
Naira and Thannis ignored her.
Great, Adel thought. Naira had suddenly become infatuated with this man. Adel understood the reasons of course, this Thannis was tall, handsome, refined, witty, and polite. He wasn’t the sort of man you would find in Blossom Bay, but she had thought Naira above such things after all the experiences she had had with men.
But Adel had no time to concern herself with the possibility that Naira might enjoy this man’s company, as she began to feel the all too familiar tingle as she unwillingly began to siphon in the energy around her once more.
No! Her mind screamed and she began to panic. A second bout had never happened so quickly after the last, but already she could feel how fast she was pulling in energy. Something was different about this time.
She was out of time.
Her skin began to feel as if hot thorns were scratching her. She picked up Naira’s rucksack and tossed it at her. “Catch!”
Naira jerked back from the sailing rucksack, yet caught it just the same. She gave Adel a glare which could have melted glass.
“We need to go,” Adel said firmly.
“You’ll have to excuse my rude friend. Manners were obviously not stressed on the farm.” Naira put her rucksack on and gave Adel a pointed look.
“The gates are already open. Initiation has started,” Adel said bluntly. Her hands were beginning to throb now.
“Ah, the military and their schedules. They do love to keep everyone on their toes.” Thannis looked down his nose at Adel. “Well, if there is nothing else, I shall take my leave. Good luck, I’ve heard the first day is rather difficult.”
Thannis stepped in close to Naira, and Adel grimaced as she saw a spot of colour rising in Naira’s cheeks. Her took her hand in his and kissed the top of it. “A pleasure, Naira O’Bannon.” His hand lingered on Naira’s which, at any other time, would have made Adel cringe.
“I do hope I can find such delicious company elsewhere in this city,” Thannis said with a final suggestive smile at Naira. Then he stepped towards Adel.
She jumped back into a fighting stance without even thinking, pulling her hands back so as not to allow him to take them, partly on instinct, but also because she would have pulled energy in from his hands. Unconsciously, she felt for the pommel of the black sword underneath its leather wrapping.
Thannis’s eyes flashed, but his grin widened. He had recognised the fighting stance. “Now, now.” He shook his finger slightly. “Naughty girl. Someone should teach you how to play properly.” He bent down slowly and whispered in her ear. “You seem so eager to dance, my dear sweet Adel Corbin.” Silent as a snake, his hand wrapped around hers. He had a grip as hard as iron. Adel couldn’t draw the sword even if she’d wanted to. Thannis’s eyes widened slightly – he must have felt the icy tingle in his hand, telling him she was siphoning.
“Remove your hand,” Adel said. Every bone in her body wanted to twist and throw this man to the ground, yet somehow she found some restraint. He was a noble, and her father had warned her against their kind.
“You are a strange one.” Thannis squinted slightly and Adel had the strange sensation he was sizing her up, like a farmer would a piece of livestock.
“If you two are finished flirting the driver needs to be off,” Naira said with a wry smile.
“I … it’s not me. He …” Adel spluttered, but Thannis stepped away so smoothly it looked as if he had done nothing at all.
“Just a slight jest at young Adel’s expense,” Thannis grinned. “Childish of me, apologies.”
Adel clutched the length of the black blade in its leather case and found she was shaking.
“I won’t take up any more of your time. Good morning to you both.” Thannis winked at Naira, who was again grinning back at him.
Naira rolled her eyes and laughed. “Always the gentlemen?”
“Not always,” Thannis answered with a coy smile as he turned on his heel and walked away.
Thank Halom, Adel sighed. Almost on cue, she felt her skin grow warmer with the effort to contain the siphoning. They had to move.
Sweat burst out on her forehead as she looked around. The guards still stood at the gates. Of course - why would they leave? Adel couldn’t brandish the sword. They would think her some sort of lunatic. Too late: the guards were already looking at her suspiciously. She forced herself to sling the leather cord of the wrapped sword across her back and chest.
The energy began flooding into her.
Naira was saying something as she watched the departing Thannis, but it didn’t register to Adel. She kept putting her feet in front of her and pulled Naira forcefully up to the gates to present her papers to the guard.
“Adel what are you doing!? Get a hold of yourself.” Naira pulled her hand free and looked back, but Thannis was already gone. Naira glared at her angrily and gave her own papers to the guard. “Thanks a lot, my so-called friend – he’s gone.”
Adel ignored her; her attention was focused on the officer studying her papers. She bit down on her lip, attempting to make herself concentrate, but her skin felt as if it was on fire.
The guard ticked off something on his list and held out her and Naira’s papers. He was looking at her strangely. “Everything looks in order. Proceed to the … Sorry – Adel, is it? Are you alright?”
“Fine. Thank you, sir.” She snatched the papers from his hand and ran through the gates, dragging Naira with her.
“Hey, stop right there!” The guard had his halberd in his hand now and began to give chase. He waved to his partner to alert the inner gates.
“Enough!” Naira slapped her hand away. “Adel Corbin, you are embarrassing the both of us. What is going on?!”
Adel spun to look at her friend and felt tears rolling down her cheek. There was a group of guards gathering now, staring at them, but the pain inside her rose again. She wasn’t going to find Fellow Calahan in time.
“Adel?” Naira said, finally understanding that she was panicking, “what is it?”
But Adel couldn’t talk, she couldn’t think. All she knew was if she pulled out the sword, the guards might attack. She had to get away from all the people.
Her body felt as if it
were on fire, the energy pulsing in her now, a pressure building. The tears streamed down her face and she cried out as she saw steam curling up from her cheeks.
She was going to die, right here at the Academy gates.
The trees.
She pushed Naira away and ran into the trees. The massive trunks sped by, but she could take no more. Hopefully this was far enough.
Adel flung the leather case off and drew the sword. She screamed, and white-hot fire coursed through her into the blade. Blue sparks leapt through the air, showering down on her. Something in the sword seemed to glow and she slammed the tip into the ground.
Grass burst into flames and the air crackled all around her.
But the energy was gone.
The pulsing inside her subsided and Adel dropped to her knees and let her tears flow. Red leaves floated down from the trees all around her.
“What is happening to me?” she whimpered, and dipped her head. She had just sealed her fate.
“Step away from the sword,” a stern voice said from behind her. The guard had caught up with her. He wasn’t alone. Adel turned to see five other guards, all holding halberds pointed at her. Naira stood behind them, watching, terrified.
“I’m sorry.” Adel held her hands up. “There is something wrong with me, I –”
“It’s alright, Vince,” a different voice said. This one came from a broad-shouldered young man in a black Academy uniform who had stepped out from the trees. He must have seen the whole thing.
“She pulled a weapon, Spierling,” the guard named Vince said.
“I think you might be lucky that she decided to use it on the grass instead of anything else,” the young man replied casually, nodding to the burnt circle around Adel. He knelt down and met her eyes. “Are you alright?”
The look on his face clearly showed that he doubted she was: it was a mixture of concern and surprise. Strangely her mind fixated on how good-looking this yound man was. It would have been nice to touch a man that handsome at least once before she died. She came back to the present. He had asked a question. “No.” Adel said as she began to shake, hating herself for this display of weakness, but she wasn’t alright. She needed help. “I need to find Fellow Callahan.” Well, they aren’t going to let me in now. I’ve just thrown away my spot as an initiate.
Visions: Knights of Salucia - Book 1 Page 22