by Spoor, Garry
Sir Oblum paused, his hands clasped behind his back, as if waiting for someone to take him up on his offer. He looked over the cadets, and when nobody moved he smiled, or it could have been a sneer, it was difficult to tell. He turned to the senior cadet that stood waiting paternity beside him.
“You will have them stand at attention for the next two hours… or until one of them yields.”
“Sir?” The senior cadet turned to Oblum, as confused as the rest of them. This did not appear to be a standard training practice.
“Is there a problem cadet?”
“No sir, of course not sir.”
Oblum turned to face them one more time, even when he wasn’t looking at her directly, she could still feel his gaze on her. He gave one final harrumph, then turned and walked back into the warmth of his office with nothing more to say, the dogs following close behind.
“You heard the commander. We are all going to stand out here for the next two hours.” The senior cadet announced as he took his position in front of them. He didn’t mention the fact that they could avoid all this if just one of them was willing to take the walk of shame. Was it that he couldn’t bring himself to say it, or wouldn’t?
Her boots were not as watertight as she was led to believe, and the thin cloak didn’t really keep out the cold winds as effectively as it should have, but Kile stood at attention and waited with the rest of the cadets. She had mixed feelings about the situation, she didn’t want to stand in the cold for the full two hours, but on the other hand she really didn’t want to see anyone quit, well, with the possible exception of Eric but that wasn’t likely to happen. She couldn’t help but notice, of course it could have been her imagination or just the lingering paranoia, that more and more eyes were slowly turning in her direction. It would make sense in a cruel sort of way. If she quits, it was like killing two birds with one stone.
As the time dragged on, there were silent murmurs of dissension within the ranks. The few that she could hear were the typical complaints directed at Oblum, the ones that she didn’t want to hear were directed at her.
“Just quit already.” The boy standing beside her said in a harsh whisper through chattering teeth. Kile wasn’t sure if he had been there from the beginning or had somehow maneuvered his way through the ranks to give her this small piece of advice, either way she did her best to ignore him.
“You're being stupid… you’re never going to… to graduate… just quit… now… so we don’t… have to suffer.”
It was surprising how warm one gets when they really get ticked off as Kile turned to the boy beside her.
“If you’re suffering so much…” She said in a calm voice that showed no effect from the cold. “Maybe you’re the one that should quit. You obviously don’t have what it takes.”
Her remark drew a lot of attention and a bit of laughter from the ranks around her, but this time it wasn’t directed at her as it was at the chattering young man.
“You just got burned.”
“Feel warm now Johnny”
“Better watch your step Johnny… I hear the walk of shame is a bit icy.”
The first hour slipped into the second and when the time was finally up, Kile couldn’t even feel her toes. Fortunately the calisthenics were never inflicted, but she suspected that the senior cadet in charge of the morning ritual was as eager to get into the warmth of the dining hall as everyone else was as he quickly dismissed them.
Today Kile had Master Rooqack, who was teaching the cadets the fundamental of arithmetic and its influence on nature and the universe as a whole, which really boiled down to learning basic math. The lessons in general were rather boring, but at least Master Rooqack didn’t spend his time giving her menacing glances or making comments that girl’s couldn’t grasp the subtitles of the sciences. If anything, it was the exact opposite. Master Rooqack had often gone out of his way to praise her work or to single her out as the only student that actually understood what he was trying to explain. This, of course, didn’t help her social standing with the rest of the cadets, but a compliment was better than a slap in the face anyway, regardless of how it was given.
Kile had just finished one of the more complex problems that Master Rooqack had given, when she realized he was standing beside her, looking over her shoulder at the work she had done and, thankfully, nodded with approval.
“It would appear you have a firm grasp of this concept.” He said in his low soft voice. He was a wisp of a man, tall and lean with fine blonde hair and a scraggly beard. He didn’t so much as walk, but float as he came up behind her without a sound, his long arms hanging down by his side, his long fingers resting upon her desk. He was a scarecrow without a field.
“Thank you sir.” She replied, lacking anything else to say when he didn’t leave, he just sort of stood there, hovering over her, making her more uncomfortable by the minute. So much in fact that she couldn’t even concentrate on the next problem.
“I suppose Morgan can have you now.”
“I’m sorry sir?” Kile replied, looking up, really up, at the tall Hunter that was looming over her.
“The mystic Morgan has requested that you see him this afternoon. I informed him that it would depend upon your advancements in your studies. As it appears that you understand the work, I see no reason to keep you from him.” Master Rooqack said as he finally stepped away from her desk, indicating that she was to go… now.
“He wanted to see me?” Kile asked as she got to her feet and grabbed her hat. “Why?”
“I wouldn’t know.” Master Rooqack replied.
She handed him the scroll that she was working on and picked up her pack, then headed for the door. There was no reason for the old mystic to need to see her so soon, unless he had figured something out about her miscellaneous edge. The thought spurred her on a little faster and she found herself running down the stairs to get to the back field where the mystic’s dwelling stood. She still couldn’t bring herself to call those short round buildings towers, but everyone else referred to them as such. Braving the elements once again she pulled her cloak about her and ran out into the snow.
Kile reached the tower door and knocked three times, when nobody answered, she went in anyway. She wasn’t planning on standing on the doorstep freezing her tail off when the mystic was probably waiting for her inside. She had stood in the cold long enough today as she stepped into the foyer and knocked the snow from her boots.
The warmth of the room was almost stifling, as if she had walked from winter into the hottest months of the summer. She quickly removed her cloak and hat and hung them on the only hook she could find.
“Sir.” She called out as she closed the door behind her.
She walked down the length of the hall and looked around the corner into the main room. Nothing had changed, but then she really didn’t expect it to look any different. From her brief stay at the Mystic’s tower, she was under the impression that mystics liked bare walls and no furniture beyond the necessities, but from seeing this place, it was clear that mystics thrive in clutter. The minimalist style of the tower must have been for the benefit of the cadets, although she couldn’t understand why.
“Yes, yes what do you want?”
“Sir, it’s me, Kile Veller, you asked to see me.”
“I did?” Morgan inquired as he came around the corner, his yellow robes flowing about him as he stopped and stared at her. It was as if he was trying to figure out who she was and why she was bothering him, and for one brief moment Kile thought that someone was playing a trick on her at the expense of the mystic, but finally he nodded. “Oh yes, of course I did.” And with that he disappeared around the corner. When it was apparent that he wasn’t coming back, Kile followed.
She rounded the corner into the main room which was a site bit cleaner than it had been the first time she had seen it. The entire outer wall had been surrounded by shelves that were packed with the artifacts and curiosity that had been scattered about before, although the
stacks of books and loose papers didn’t appear to have been moved. The crow, she was glad to see, was no longer in a cage but was perched on the shelves staring down at her with its beady little black eyes.
The center of the room was now clear and resembled a quaint sitting room. The two large overstuffed wingback chairs were situated on a round braided rug, and facing what should have been a fireplace, but instead there was a globe of fire floating two feet above the floor. If he was able to sell those, he would make a fortune she thought as she felt the heat that it was giving off.
“I didn’t know I was scheduled to see you today sir.”
He had taken a seat in one of the wing-backed chairs, and directed Kile to take the other. They were definitely designed for someone a lot bigger than she was as she sank into the cushion, her feet barely touching the floor and she started to wonder how she was ever going to get out of it.
“You’re not scheduled to see me today.” He replied, tapping his fingers together. “I was supposed to see a Cadet Kline today, but they tell me he’s not available.”
“No sir, Tommy dropped out of the academy last night, or that’s what Sir Oblum told us this morning.”
“Did he now? Well… Oblum has never been one to lie. It’s a shame actually; not a very bright student, but he had potential. Oh well, no use wondering what might have been.” Morgan replied with a slight shrug. “I figured we should seize this opportunity to better explore your edge. Have you learned anything new about your skills?” He inquired.
“No sir.”
“Nothing different or unusual has occurred.”
“Well…” The first thing that came to mind was the yarrow that had spoken to her, but then that was the yarrow that was unusual and not her.
“No sir, not really, I mean, nothing really unusual. Unless… are you familiar with yarrows?”
“Yarrows. Dreadful little creatures, a real nuisance, but not my area of study. I do have a colleague that specializes in animals and animal behaviors, why do you ask?”
“Oh, no reason. Have you ever heard of a Vesper?”
“Vesper? It’s an old word, used to describe the evening or eastern star. I believe it was of Balaa origin, but I cannot say for sure. I fear that was even before my time.”
So much for Alex’s monster theory.
“Well, that was enlightening conversation.” Morgan replied as he rose from his chair. “The reason why I wanted to see you is that I’ve come up with a theory on the best way to ascertain your exact influence, or what edge you posses. We will place you through a few… shall we say… tests.”
“What kind of tests?”
“Oh, not to worry, simple tests, you won’t have to do very much.” Morgan said with a dismissive wave of the hand. “But the sooner we get these tests out of the way, the sooner we can learn what you edge is, and then we can start to hone it, so… are you ready.”
The last thing Kile was ready for was anything to do with the mystic arts, she still did not trust them, and the thought of them being used to test her was even more unsettling.
“You did say that this was the best way? Are there other ways?”
“Well yes. There are a few things that we could try first, but it's rather time consuming and tedious. I’m sure this is faster… and it should work.”
“You don’t know?”
“Of course I do… sort of. In all likelihood this should work.”
-If you survive-
“What?”
“Look Miss Veller, your skills, your… abilities… they don’t fit into the natural order of things, they can’t be classified so easily and therefore we must take… rather extraordinary steps to learn about them before we can develop them.”
“You’ve never tried this on anyone else.”
“The opportunity has never come up. Are you ready?”
“I’m not really sure.”
“Oh, come, come now. As I’ve said, the tests are very easy. It’s just a matter of finding the right conditions that will… activate your skills.”
“But shouldn’t I be able to activate my skills without the tests?” Kile asked as she struggled to get up out of her chair.
“Since we can’t rely on your actions, we have to rely on your reactions. If we can cause you to use your edge out of reflex, we can better understand what that edge is. Once we know what it is, then we can explore ways for you to use it more consciously.”
“I think I get it.” She lied as she rolled out of the wing-backed chair and onto her feet.
“Well, it doesn’t really matter if you do or not. We’ll start with the easiest test.”
“What do I have to…”
-Watch out-
Kile felt herself being thrown backwards by some unseen force into one of the shelves. Books, scrolls and papers came crashing down on top of. Her only reaction was a few choice words.
“Such language is not very lady like.” Morgan remarked as he jotted something down in a small book that he was now holding.
“You just threw me across the room.” She yelled as she got to her feet, kicking a few of the volumes aside.
-I did try to warn you-
“A lot of good that did.”
“I had to gauge your reaction from a surprise attack.” The mystic remarked as he jotted a few more notes in the small book.
“Then why did you try to warn me.”
“Warn you child, if I tried to warn you, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise then would it.”
“That's what a mean.”
“Can you tell me if you felt anything?” Morgan asked.
Kile slowly looked up at the yellow mystic.
“You threw me… into… a bookshelf.” She said as calmly as she could.
Morgan sighed “I am referring to any other reaction, beyond the physical.”
“Sorry, I was too preoccupied with the physical.”
- In coming, right side –
Kile turned just in time to see one of the small items from the shelf flying toward her. She thought it might have been a chess piece, possibly a bishop, but she wasn’t going to inspect it as it was heading directly for her head. She dropped to the ground and rolled to one side as she felt it brush past her ear.
-Nice move, eight-o-clock high-
She didn’t look this time; she just grabbed one of the volumes that had fallen from the shelf and turn, holding it up in front of her like a shield as the small projectile shattered on impact.
-Six-o-clock low-
Kile spun with the book waist high as she knocked another chess piece aside before it hit her.
-Three-o-clock high-
Kile turned again, holding the book high and was struck hard in the back of the head.
“Ow!” She cried as she dropped the book, “That was nine-o-clock”
-Sorry-
“What? It’s nowhere near nine-o-clock.” Morgan replied looking over at the clock that hung crooked on the wall.
“Well it wasn’t three-o-clock.” Kile said, rubbing the back of her head, she knew she wasn’t going to like these tests.
“What are you talking about child, surely I didn’t hit you that hard?”
“Hard enough.” She mumbled. “What was the point of all that, to test my reflexes, to see how fast I can dodge chess pieces?”
“As I have explained, I must gauge your reactions from a series of non lethal attacks.”
“I’m no so sure about that last one.”
“You are still alive, aren’t you? There for it was a non-lethal attack. Now, did you feel anything?” He asked, picking up the small book once again.
Kile just looked at him, still rubbing the back of her head.
“Beyond the physical.” Morgan sighed.
She was getting tired of his sighs.
“I don’t think we’re gong to get beyond the physical sir.”
“Well, as a matter of fact, the tests have indicated a rather curious pattern.”
“And what would that b
e?”
“You either have the ability to predict the future, or some form of telepathy, of course normally that would indicate a very strong influence within the wind or the water spheres. And clearly you have shown no such influence from previous tests, it’s very curious.”
“I don’t think I can predict the future.” Kile replied, although that would be kind of cool. To know what was going to happen before it happened would be a very useful edge. She wouldn’t have to worry so much about Eric, she just wouldn’t be where he was going to be to harass her, or something like that.
“Clearly you were able to dodge attacks from multiple directions as if you knew ahead of time where they were coming from.” Morgan replied, still scribbling a few notes in the small book as he began to stroke his chin in that mystic thinking fashion. Kile was definitely missing something here.
“Well… that’s because you told me.”
“Told you? Told you what? What are you talking about child?”
“You told me where each object was coming from as you threw it at me, well… all except for that last one.”
“I never told you any such thing.” Morgan replied. The look on his face turned from contemplation to confusion.
“Of course you did, you told me six-o-clock, eight-o-clock high, each one, just as you were throwing them… or… making them fly or whatever it was that you were doing to them.”
“A Simple earth skill, but that doesn’t help explain how you knew what I was doing. Even if you were able to watch me you wouldn’t have know the hand movements of the skill.”
“The what?”
“Certain high energy skills, especially those of the earth sphere, require the use of hand movements. Only if you were able to read the hand movements would you have been able to know where the objects were coming from.”
“But I never saw you, I heard you. You told me which direction they were coming from.”
“I told you no such thing child.”
“Then if you didn’t… who did?”
“We’re the only ones here.” Morgan assured her.
That was when Kile realized that Morgan was wrong. They weren’t the only ones in the room. She slowly looked up to where the crow was staring back at her with is beady little black eyes.