“You’d better get back, brother,” Zuria said. “The ceremony begins in only a few minutes.”
“Right, of course. Congratulations again.”
He strode back along the row of students as the large doors at the end of the antechamber creaked open a crack. A tall proctor came through the doors dressed in black with a red collar. Edmath got into line behind Chelka just before they started moving.
The seniors followed the proctor out into the darkened auditorium. The crowd that packed the room was silent as the class filed inside. The speaker for the graduates came forward from the crowd. Loud applause followed him.
It was tradition at Lexine Park that a final, symbolic, lesson was held during graduation. For this year a veteran Imperial Court Saale had been chosen. The High Emperor’s legacy, and the tensions with the neighboring nation of Roshi, practically demanded it happen every now and then.
Edmath was glad to see the white-haired little man making his way to the center of the stage in front of the class.
This man was familiar though Edmath could not put a name to his face. When the little man reached the center of the stage he lifted a bone and brass striker ring in his fingers and held it up in the lamplight.
“Greetings all you citizens,” he said in a raised voice. “As I’m sure many of you know, I am Morior Lem, an attendant for some years now to our most esteemed War Empress Hayel. I have often told others the value of long speeches and great words. Long speeches are difficult to remember and great words are few in number, so I will speak only a little. These new Saales you see behind me, proud citizens, are all students who have struggled for nearly a quarter of their young lives for this place in time, and to serve our empire. Now they are here and their effort is to be commended as well as congratulated. I know this is meant to be a lesson, but the truth is, I’m not much of a teacher. All I offer is a small story.
“I fought for Zel against Roshi during the last war. I saw the physical powers of Dawkun mages first hand. I saw the finest Saales of my generation fight for the empire. His Excellency, Haddishal Rumenha. The mighty Yaem Tabeyhi. Her Majesty, Semana Nane. I saw the burden of war on each of them. Each battle is another weight and not the kind that can be lifted by signs, or spells, or animals. Each warrior carries that burden alone. In my day, the Saales carried our empire in war, and they did not buckle under that weight.
“When we met Roshi in the final battle at Jolmaya, it took more than genius to outmatch them. It took strength of will and personal sacrifice. When the Fox Minister charged our line I was afraid.” A hush fell over the room. Lem’s intense gaze swept over the audience. “I watched a Saale, a woman whose name I will never know, stand her ground against the most feared warrior in all of Roshi. His spear was already dripping with blood.
“I wish I could remember her signs, for the skill she displayed is my envy to this day. I will never forget her stance or her words.”
Edmath felt his eyes widen as Morior turned to face the graduating class.
Lem folded his hands together.
“She stood her ground before the rampaging Roshi and she told the bloody Fox Minister this. No matter how many lives you take, you will not see another. This unknown woman stood her ground and told the truth in the darkest moment.”
Lem bowed his head.
“When the Fox Minister fell that day, it was by her sign. When I looked for the woman after the battle I heard she had left the field alone. She had survived the war, but her magic had been her sacrifice.
“We must be willing to give even our abilities to preserve the nation. Knowledge, skill, these things are gifts to give. Saales of Lexine Park, you have given six years. Will you give your whole lives?”
A roar of voices went up from the class as Morior Lem bowed his head. It sounded like a yes, but with this many voices, Edmath was unsure of the truth in it. On the other hand, he didn’t know anyone who would say no in this situation. He heard Chelka, standing at his left. She whispered, “Yes.”
A pit formed in Edmath’s stomach at the thought of losing his abilities. Still, if war returned, he wanted to think he would do what was needed.
After the intensity of Lem’s story, the rest of the ceremony flashed past. There wasn’t much to it, despite the widening pit in Edmath’s stomach. Morior Lem introduced the student speakers and the various school officials but it all blurred for Edmath, even when Chelka stepped forward as top student and said her piece about the value of order in magic as well as perseverance. She spoke well when she had to, but Edmath knew she preferred action over words.
He looked into the shadows and waited. Of all the times in his life to feel nauseous and tired this was one he wouldn’t have chosen. He should stand proud today. Chelka stepped back into line and Edmath nodded at her along with Brosk. She bowed her head and smiled. The ceremony ended with a robed proctor in a wicker mask coming forward and reading the Lexine Park motto in a loud, cold voice. “Life serves life. Life breeds magic. We change what is changeable, and in doing so, we change ourselves.”
The audience applauded as the line of students moved off the stage, Chelka in the lead. As each student left the stage, a second proctor, this one without a mask, handed each of them their papers for graduation.
Over a hundred Saales had just been added to the Empire of Zel. They had the right to be proud of themselves and their school. Of all the places he could have studied to protect the nation from the Roshi, he was glad it had been Lexine Park.
In the stone tiled reception hall on the main level of the principal center, the party for the graduates went into full swing. Chelka left Edmath and Brosk at the entrance and went to find her mother and father in the depths of the crowded room. Edmath watched her go, halfway nervous that tonight would mark the end of their relationship.
Brosk whistled as she disappeared from view.
“Appreciate that you have incredible luck.”
Edmath laughed.
“Of that I am aware. But how do you mean, my good Brosk?”
“First you have her, the daughter of Emperor Benisar, and second you get this fine chance at a position with Emperor Rumenha, both in spite of being a commoner.”
Edmath forced a laugh as he untied the sash from the front of his graduation tunic so it hung free.
“It’s probably my good looks.”
Brosk snorted, reminding Edmath of the whales commanded by his friend’s tribe.
“Luck has nothing to do with looks.”
“True.” Edmath shrugged. “Anyway, I wouldn’t count my blessings yet. Besides, you’re not so unlucky yourself.”
“I am a prince.” Brosk grinned. “A sorcerer. And, keep in mind, you still owe me a fair bit of coin.”
“If I get that position with the Saale Emperor, I expect you’ll be repaid soon enough.”
Brosk shook his head, still grinning. “You’re also lucky to have me as your only creditor, Ed.”
“Very true.” Edmath gave a halfway mocking bow to his friend. “Another note. Chelka told me that Emperor Benisar is still looking for Saales to employ. And, well, I am previously engaged my good Brosk.”
As second son of the Whale King, Brosk had been allowed to study whatever he chose, and he had chosen magic, despite it moving him completely out of the line of political succession, or maybe because of it.
“For some reason, I forget my own luck with you around.”
“Act without delusion.” Edmath put his hand on Brosk’s shoulder. “We are both fortunate men.”
Brosk gave him a nod and brushed off his hand. “Very reasonable. I knew there was cause for me to put up with your rudeness.”
He set off through the crowd and disappeared in a crush of people carrying a new jug of wine for the tables at the entrance of the hall. Edmath turned and found Zuria making her way toward him with their mother, the tiny, black-skinned, Sampheli Mierzon beside her. The two of them were talking softly. With the noises of the hall at his back, Edmath could not make out
their words. Sampheli smiled at Edmath. Her dark, wrinkled face creased still more as she swept forward smiling and embraced him.
“I’m so proud of you son. You have come from out of the bleakest of beginnings to join the empire’s service.”
“Only because of you,” Edmath said and hugged her back, “My good mother.”
Zuria stopped beside them as they released each other. Edmath looked at her. She beamed at him, all the nervousness from before the ceremony lost in the moment of happiness. She glanced at Sampheli.
“Mother, come with me. Have you met Razili Nane? Ed, congratulations. I’ll see you later.”
“Of course, good sister.”
Edmath thanked her silently for distracting mother. There were things he had to do tonight that she would not approve of, and Zuria knew it. The two of them had discussed their plan for the evening the previous day before Sampheli had arrived. Not all the goodbyes Edmath needed to say could be spoken in words.
Walking through the reception hall, he saw Zuria leading Sampheli to the table where the Nane family sat. They were royals of the Coral Tribe and each of them a formidable Saale. Unlike most tribes, coral families allowed Saales to rule as their highest representatives. Pale Razili and her twin brother Oresso were both of strong standing in the class and had been in the graduation line before Zuria. They were destined for great things, and every oracle, augury, and sphere had apparently told them so. He could scarcely stand conversing with them when the subject arose.
Still, Razili was far more bearable than Oresso when she talked to Edmath. Taking a glass of white wine and greeting several of his other friends with waves from a distance, Edmath made his way to a tall, narrow window on the far side of the room. Clouds billowed over the sea, down the hill from Lexine Park.
“It looks like rain,” a voice said from behind him. He turned and saw Morior Lem. The short old man shook his head. “Nothing to be done. We can’t choose the weather.”
Edmath chuckled.
“Nothing to be done? I’m actually surprised no one has worked out that magic yet. After all, the people of Tokalgo have long had some knowledge in that regard.”
“Control of the clouds may lie beyond the curtain of possibility. After all, as far as we know plants and animals have little to do with the formation of weather. In the end, I’m glad we have other tools at our disposal, probably more important than keeping rain away.”
Edmath pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“Of course. But personally, I think we would figure it out if we put resources into it.”
“We’ll see, won’t we?” Morior sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t want to get philosophical this early in the evening. If you don’t mind, perhaps the weather should remain outside our conversation.”
“In that case, you picked the wrong man to talk to tonight. I get in this mood at big events. My name is Edmath Donroi.”
Edmath thought of Chelka, and the need to find her again before the night passed and they went their separate ways the next morning. Though not for long, he hoped.
“You definitely seem distracted at the moment. What will you do when this night is passed?”
Edmath thought of the letter he’d received from Haddishal Rumenha inviting him to compete for a court position. He would need luck and skill to defeat the others who would be there, but he had no other plan. His skills were great for Lexine Park, but he was still not the top of the class. That honor belonged to dear, dear Chelka.
“I venture I’ll head out to the Imperial City. The Saale Emperor told me he could accept my request to continue my research there for as long as a year if he chooses me to be one of his Court Saales.”
“Good news. We may see each other again there. Whether you succeed or not, feel free to ask my advice while you’re there,” Morior said. “Good luck.”
Edmath stared out at the storm as Morior turned back toward the crowded room. Wind thundered against the glass of the window. The veteran Imperial Saale started to walk away. Edmath glanced after him.
“You too.”
Edmath decided to leave the reception hall after some few conversations with groups of other students and graduates. He circled the entire room once and then left, going down the stairs to the outer doors. His path took him outside where Orpus Strodusial stood tall near the corner of the building, roots curled up on the earth, in preparation for heavy rain.
Suppressing a chuckle at the sight, Edmath walked past the tree and crossed the grounds. He headed towards the dormitory building on the hillside. The sun sank as he walked, and the clouds flew in from over the sea.
He reached the dormitory, a gray stone tower four stories tall, and looked through the arched doorway. Chelka stood there, leaning against the wall on the other side of the entrance.
The clouds and the darkness seemed like the perfect match for her appearance, dark complexion and blue cloth would not have looked out of place in the stormy night. Her eyes moved to him in silence, and his moved over her.
No tears had stained her twilight skin yet. Still, Edmath could tell from her stance, from her enchanting, half-shuttered eyes, from the way her hands touched the stone with only their fingertips, her passions were seething beneath the surface. She must know he felt the same way.
He approached her.
“I guess you’re not feeling so well about the future.”
“Sorry, Ed. I don’t mean to be glum.”
“It’s all right. We all must deal with change in our own way.”
Chelka took a deep breath, slowly letting it out and folding her arms. The rega she wore over her tunic trembled as her fingers closed around it near her shoulder. She and Edmath had been a couple for the past year, but they had known each other far longer than that.
“I’m not dealing with it properly,” she said. “I’m letting it control me.”
“That doesn’t sound like Chelka Benisar as I know her. What about Benisar’s formula for happiness? Water, breath, and love? And it’s not like there aren’t places like this school out there, places to cherish. It’s not as though the Roshi are at the gates to burn the school. Any graduate can visit again.”
Chelka’s head dipped forward. Her chin nearly touched her chest. Edmath stepped through the doorway. He brushed the back of his hand over Chelka’s shoulder. Her arms fell from their fold and her hand grasped his.
“It isn’t the place, Ed. It’s you.”
Edmath bowed his head, his light-colored hair brushing against Chelka’s dark.
“And you,” he said, slipping his arm around her shoulders.
She leaned against him and the two of them made their way into the dormitory building.
“I’m not sad,” Chelka said as they climbed the steps. “Not really. I’m just sorry it will be so long before we see each other. I’m going back to Sizali and you’re going to Naren and the Imperial City. It will be amazing. We’ll both be serving the empire. But—”
“—If only we could serve ourselves at the same time. But if I fail to join the court, perhaps I’ll meet you in Sizali.”
“You won’t fail though.”
“I hope to succeed. But even if I do. Your research will likely not last all year. Whoever moves first, can move toward the other.”
“We’ll find a way.”
Chelka had not cried yet, and she didn’t now, though Edmath could see that she wanted to, even as she led the way down the hall to her room. Every reception hall filled with loud well-wishers would fall flat in comparison to this quiet stony corridor if he compared them in that moment. Chelka opened the door to her quarters and they slipped inside together. The walls hid their embrace.
Edmath would leave in the morning. He reminded Chelka even as he lay with his arm across her bare stomach. They were a fine pair, he knew. Time apart would be hard, but the empire needed people like them. Unfortunately, not all in the same place.
She answered him with a smile.
“Until we mee
t again, Ed.”
“Dear Princess.”
“Silly, call me Chelka.”
“Dear Chelka.”
Edmath rose from the bed. He made his way to the door, almost tearing up, with the feelings that accompanied departure as he donned his tunic and sash. Who knew what awaited in the future, except possibly for the creator of the world? Chelka was a princess, and Edmath a commoner. He had heard enough stories about how relationships like theirs would end to know things could change from how they seemed now.
He prayed to any creator who listened change would be for the better, not the worse.
Slipping on his sandals, he pushed the door open and stepped out into the corridor. He made his way down the steps and out of the dormitory entrance to walk through the night. Not far from the dormitory, a dark figure approached him. He recognized Brosk’s bulky silhouette even in the dark.
“Lord Naopaor, my good man,” he said. “What brings you out here? The party is inside.”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“But you know the answer.”
“Obviously I do. Chelka gave me a recommendation to her father and then ran off. Only I knew where. Now, Zuria and your mother are looking for you.”
“Ah, yes. Thank you, Brosk.”
“They’re in the entrance hall. Go.”
“I am going. But first, did you get a position? A chance to compete?”
“Emperor Benisar told me to visit him at court.”
“Perfect. We can travel together.”
“I was hoping so,” Brosk said. “You can give me some pointers on a few techniques. And I can keep an eye on my investment.”
“Me, an investment? You flatter me, my friend. That said, I could help you brush up on creature growth theory. I must be going.”
Brosk shrugged his broad shoulders. He turned continued across the grass toward his pool-side dormitory.
“As you say.”
Edmath walked back to the path and followed it to the entrance. He opened the door and walked in. Zuria met him with a small smile. Sampheli turned away from examining the coral-textured statue of Amonos Nane. Zuria put a hand on her mother’s arm.
Spells of the Curtain Volume One Page 2