Tagan had never seen this many people in Brankin Huoh before. Looking down from their carriage as he, Kenok and Sequil rode into town for the induction ceremony, his eyes swept back and forth, trying to comprehend where all these people came from. Of course he had been to induction ceremonies in the past but from ground level you couldn’t get the full scope of how many people were present. From the top of the carriage Tagan could see a mass of humanity that didn't seem real. Everywhere he looked there were more and more people, blending away into the horizon. They must have come from every corner of Brankin Huoh and then some.
Festive excitement filled the air, raw and directionless, looking for an outlet. The ceremony always culminated in a huge party, which would be that outlet. It was one of the only times during the year that the Citadel's rulers allowed there to be any type of festivity and the people took full advantage. Because it also helped fill the town’s coffers from the many fines and sentences levied to lawbreakers, the Citadel made sure there was ample fuel for the fire on hand.
Tagan hoped that the rest of the day would prove to be less stressful than it had been to that point. Sequil had been up since before the break of dawn fretting over every last detail. First it was that Tagan's hair wasn't right after he bathed. Then he wasn't wearing his robes in the correct fashion. It went on and on in this direction until Kenok, took Sequil aside and urged her not to worry so, that Tagan and his robes were fine and ready for the ceremony. Sequil settled down after that but drifted into a somber mood.
Tagan, on the other hand, wasn't sure what to think. Up until a day ago he thought it would be a normal induction ceremony. Not much to worry about from his standpoint. He didn't seem to be the type of person that the Citadel had chosen over the years so he assumed once all the pomp and circumstance was done with, he would go home with Kenok and Sequil and they would all move on. All that changed when he had strayed into Quanna Eresse and met Meyu Kwi. Meyu Kwi told Tagan that the two worlds that he could see were not really two worlds, but one and the same. He told Tagan that the rift between these worlds could be fixed and the two worlds could be re-united as one. Tagan didn't even know if he should take Meyu Kwi seriously at first. The more he analyzed his experiences in Quanna Eresse though, it started to make sense.
"Are you the one, my boy?" a booming voice asked with an alcohol-induced slur.
Tagan looked around for the voice’s source and picked a large man out of the crowd, whose head bore the mark of someone who had been in prison. His face was flushed from drink and he swayed on the spot. Obviously he had started celebrating early. "Do you know why they have this ceremony, son?" the man continued, his gravelly voice struggling to string the words together. "It's all about control. They want to keep the people down so they use this ceremony to find those willing to do it and train them. Like we’re sheep that need tending, they find the wolves to do it."
Tagan stared at the man, wondering why he had chosen him to yell at.
"Bad things go on in that Citadel, son,” the man continued, clearly enjoying his nasty diatribe. “Horrible things. I have seen them with my own eyes."
The man looked around, confused, as the crowd split apart and a half dozen of the Citadel’s finest surged toward him, tackling him to the ground. It didn’t deter him and he continued yelling out as the guards beat and bound him. "Don't let them turn you, boy. I see the good in you. Don’t be tempted by the evil."
Finally a hand clamped over his mouth and the guards dragged him to his feet and marched him away. He turned and looked at Tagan one last time, nodding his head as blood flowed from a nasty scrape on his forehead.
Kenok steered the carriage through town and into a large field where other carriages and horses were already parked. Families with children taking part in the ceremony didn't have to join the throng of people queuing up to watch. They watched from a special spot just to the side of the ceremony stage. After Kenok, Tagan and Sequil disembarked, a Citadel guard marched in stiff fashion to them with a mage assistant and indicated a path for Kenok and Sequil to follow. Tagan was to go with the mage assistant for final preparation before the ceremony.
Sequil grabbed him and hugged him hard, trying to maintain control of her emotions but was betrayed by her body wracking with sob filled spasms. When she pulled away she wiped at the tear marks on his robe and then straightened it one last time. "Good luck, Tagan. Keep an eye for us."
"I will, Mom." Tagan looked down so she couldn’t see the tears welling in his own eyes.
Kenok looked like he was about to say something but decided against it and gave Tagan a hard pat on the back instead, coupled with a somber nod. Kenok put his arm around Sequil and they walked off, leaving Tagan alone with the mage assistant.
Without a word the mage assistant started walking toward a large tent that had been erected on the far end of the site. Tagan fell in step behind him, his mind spinning. Did that old man make the same comments to all the potentials, or did he know something?
The guards on either side of the tent opening nodded at the mage assistant as he and Tagan entered. The noise inside quieted, many faces turning to look at who was coming in.
Tagan looked around and recognized a few of the other boys, but only vaguely. None acknowledged him before they returned to their preparations.
The mage assistant led Tagan to an empty chair and had him sit while he busied himself with touching up Tagan’s robes and telling him what he could expect.
In a private dressing room, far away from the hubbub of the crowd, Lozan was preparing for his part in the ceremony. Olkuu had helped him get into his robes. They were a deep crimson red, with intricate embroidery across the front. It would seem to others that the embroidery was the mark of the Citadel but if one were to look closer they would find odd arrangements symbols encoded within the mark. Those who could read it properly would see that it was a narration that spoke of generations past and how man was delivered into this world as slaves, as chattel. Humans were meant to be broken and used by the elite for whatever they chose.
The speaking part of the ceremony was in an ancient language that was no longer in use by the peoples of the world. The words were devised with skill and precision to work with the symbols sewn into the robe, empowering and renewing the ideals of the ruling class. This, of course, was the real intention of the ritual. The induction and its rituals passed down from Citadel ruler to Citadel ruler. Each new ruler was instructed in the art of the ceremony by the ruling overlord of the time. The overlords may have changed but the ritual always remained the same. Every word had to be properly inflected to have the desired effect. Every hand movement had to be deliberate and precise. The Citadel rulers were instructed and drilled in the ritual until they could perform it in its entirety without mistakes. If the Citadel ruler couldn't perform the ceremony they would disappear and a new ruler would be found. So it was that Lozan was deep in thought, going over his part, when Olkuu returned with the robe’s matching headpiece. It was a thick band of silver that fit snugly around the head and held a large pendant in place on the wearer’s brow. The pendant itself was circular obsidian, dark and smooth. With unseen depth it seemed like a black hole had formed on the wearer’s brow, thought and light swallowed by its density. Lozan took the headpiece and rubbed it lightly with his thumb, lost in its depths. The stone of Balz had been around for centuries. If only it could speak of the countless ceremonies it had witnessed, tell the tales of the souls it had faced and the fates it had decided. Lozan was honored to place it upon his brow.
Everything was ready. He was ready. The city was filled with the people of Brankin Huoh and they were ready. Olkuu left the room and Lozan looked at Kyriu, lounging on a large, soft chair to one side of Lozan's chambers.
Kyriu observed Lozan for a moment and then rose and stepped toward him. "Yes, everything is perfect," he said, admiring the stone of Balz. Its dark depths echoed Kyriu’s sentiment in every way. "Remember Lozan, Tagan gets chosen no matter what happens at the indu
ction ceremony."
"Of course, my lord." Lozan bowed his head. How could he forget? Kyriu had been drilling it into his mind every chance he got. “Won’t you be at the ceremony?"
Kyriu laughed, loud and guttural. "Lozan, the people of Brankin Huoh do not know of my existence and if you wish to keep control of them you better hope they never find out."
Lozan bowed his head, ashamed. He should have known better.
"Don't be so hard on yourself, Lozan. You were caught up in the moment. Besides, I will be there in my own way, watching." Kyriu gave the stone of Balz another lingering look. Then he turned and left the room, returning to his own quarters to prepare.
Lozan sighed and shook his head again at his gaffe. He had to watch his tongue if he wanted to get rewarded. He went over the ritual one more time.
There were eleven boys that had been selected for the induction ceremony. They all stood in a semi-circle along the back end of the stage facing an oval-shaped table. There was nothing on the table yet, save an indigo colored cloth draped over it, cascading to the floor in tiny folds.
Tagan looked around and wondered if any of the other boys were as nervous as he was. If they were, he couldn't tell. Backstage, the mage assistants had been kept busy making sure no fights broke out among the most aggressive of the group. A few of the boys had sneered at Tagan, menacing him with dirty looks. Tagan tried not to show that he was afraid but he was glad that his handler was there. He had never been in a fight before and figured the day of the induction ceremony was not the time to have his first.
Trumpets sounded and Tagan flinched, whipping his head around. The gates to the Citadel opened and a large contingent of people began walking from it. Citadel guards came first, followed by adepts. Halfway through the group was Lozan. He was seated on a large velvet chair borne by four of the burliest men Tagan had ever seen. Set against the black robes and uniforms of his entourage, Lozan's robes looked like a drop of blood, oozing its way along the switch- backed road that led from the Citadel. Even from where Tagan stood the stone of Balz looked like a void: nothingness captured in stone and worn as a crown. The crowd was silent as the procession made its way slowly down to the city proper and finally rolled up to the stage area.
One by one the adepts made their way onto the stage and took their places, one behind each of the boys. The bearers of Lozan’s chair lowered it to the ground and Lozan stood and walked to the front of the stage, embracing the regality afforded him, and faced the people of the city. The buzz that had started when the adepts took the stage lulled to a murmur as Lozan raised his hands.
"My good people of Brankin Huoh," Lozan began. "We are blessed to have you all join us today for this induction ceremony. Thank you God for allowing us to gather as one on this momentous occasion," he said, looking skyward with outstretched arms.
The people chanted as one, "Thank you Lozan. Thank you God."
"As you know, today is the day of induction.” Lozan paused here for effect while the crowd applauded loudly. "Which of these young men will become members of the Citadel, bearers of renown and glory?" he said, sweeping his hand around the semi-circle of potential inductees behind him.
Hoots and hollers rained down on the stage. The crowd jumped up and down in its frenzy, giving the appearance of a boiling pot. Standing stage side, mothers were overcome with emotion and many wailed openly, hands extended to their child. Fathers paced like roosters, chests out with pride.
"Let us begin." Lozan spun on his heels to face the boys and the fevered pitch rose another notch.
Lozan approached the oval table and an adept came forward with a golden box engraved with many sacred markings and set it down gently before him. A hush fell over the crowd like someone had muted them. Lozan opened the box and stared in its depths for a moment, his face bathed in golden light. The boys gasped as he withdrew the contents. The crowd gasped also as Lozan turned and raised the Tome of the Citadel.
Centuries old glyphs engraved on a golden tablet sparkled in the sunlight like a star on the darkest of nights. Its brilliance was unequalled in the land.
Lozan turned again to face the boys. The adept removed the box and Lozan laid the tablet on the indigo cloth, caressing it as he did so like he would his first born.
The ceremony was straightforward. Each of the boys would approach the tablet and place their right hand upon one end. Lozan would place his left on the other. The glyphs on the tablet would glow brightly as the minds of Lozan and the boy connected. It was during this shared connection that Lozan could get a sense of how domitable the boy was and if they could be bent to do the bidding of the Citadel without regard. If the boy was easily tamable the stone of Balz would flare indigo before returning to its normal state of inky, pitch black and they joined the Citadel. If not, the boy would return to his life.
Lozan beckoned the first boy forward. Even though the boy had proclaimed himself the toughest one there when they were getting ready, he hesitated now. A look came over his face like he was trying to walk toward Lozan but his feet wouldn’t listen. Setting his will, the boy took a deep breath and stepped forward. The adept behind the boy was right on his heels. It was not uncommon for an inductee to faint during the event.
The boy stopped at the end of the oval table, standing squarely in front of Lozan and Lozan nodded at him. The boy placed a shaky hand on the golden tablet and gulped. He was pale. So pale, it looked like someone had drained all his blood. The adept readied himself in case the boy passed out. Lozan thrust his hand out with theatrical confidence, dropping it on the tablet and closed his eyes. A moment passed and nothing happened. Then the markings on the tablet began to glow. They were fierce and hot, flaring from a dull light to an intense luminescence that made those watching squint. The boy stiffened and shrieked. He tried to yank his hand from the tablet but it was like it was glued in place. He began to sway on the spot and behind him the adept put his arms under the boy’s armpits and around his chest. The boy slumped into the adept’s arms, letting out a yell as he went unconscious, his hand still stuck to the tablet. Lozan opened his eyes and took his hand from the tome as the boy’s limp arm fell from the tablet to his side. The adept held the boy up and spoke softly into his ear. The boy stirred and opened his eyes, looking to Lozan and the stone of Balz for confirmation. The boy almost fainted again when he spied the indigo shade of the stone and grimaced as he smiled to his parents. His mother was wailing uncontrollably into his father’s shoulders. The adept walked him back to his place in line.
Lozan motioned to the next boy, whose wide eyes made it look like he had been caught doing something illegal and he stepped forward.
Of the seven boys ahead of Tagan, five were chosen to join the Citadel. After the first boy, the next two were not chosen. Their parents were outraged and demanded Lozan try again. One boy passed out and initially couldn't be revived. There were many intense moments as the adepts worked on him, finally bringing him around. He wailed when he realized he would not be inducted and had to be forcibly removed from the stage area. The third boy resumed his place in line looking relieved. He was a small and sickly and Tagan wondered if he was relieved that he wasn't chosen or that he had survived the ritual. The next four boys all were extremely excited to be inducted and fidgeted in line as the others took their turns at the tablet as though they couldn't wait to take up residence in the Citadel.
Lozan motioned to Tagan. His turn had come. He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat but he managed a wan smile in his parents’ direction. They looked just as nervous as Tagan felt but he strode with confidence to the tome and placed his hand on it without waiting to be instructed to do so. Lozan studied Tagan for a moment and then placed his own hand on the other side, his eyes sliding shut. Tagan kept his eyes open, staring at the Tome. The runes started to glow around Tagan’s hand as it had for the other boys and he could feel a strange sensation in his palm. It was coming from the tome. It felt like the flesh of his palm was swirling in a slow circle as if s
omeone was stirring his skin and the feeling started to creep up his arm. It reminded him of what he would feel in his head whenever he accessed the other world only it felt like it was being forced on him. Shoved into him as opposed to just being there, ready for him to become a part of it. He didn't like it. It was unnatural but he couldn't pull his hand away. The sensation continued up his arm, through his shoulder and along his neck. He looked up at Lozan. Lozan’s eyes were still closed but Tagan could see his eyeballs darting under his eyelids as he concentrated. The feeling reached up into Tagan’s brain. Like a probe, it seemed to be looking for something but was unsure of its target. Tagan resisted, fighting against it with his mind, closing off the part of his brain he was sure it was searching for. The swirling feeling grew even more intense, like it was angry at being denied access to what it wanted. Lozan's eyelids screwed up even tighter, his entire body tensing like he was getting ready to attack. Tagan hadn't taken his eyes from Lozan. He watched him as they struggled and was shocked as the stone of Balz clouded over. Tagan blinked and lost his focus for a moment and the sensation in his brain zeroed in on its target. Tagan set his mind again, holding the feeling at bay, then looked at the stone of Balz once more. There was an eye looking back at him from the stone. A slit of a pupil, fiery black, set against a yellow iris. A voice sounded in Tagan’s head. "You resist," the voice said. "You are stronger than I reckoned but I will not be denied."
The sensation increased tenfold and Tagan struggled to hold on to his sense of self. The center of his brain felt like an angry beehive, buzzing and humming, threatening to split his head apart. Tagan couldn't see anything of the stage or the crowd. There was only the eye in the stone of Balz glaring at him, demanding he bend to its will. The rest of the world melted away in a wash of black and it felt like he was sucked right into the stone. Everywhere was black. Tagan could see forms moving around and a sense of pure evil pervaded his senses. It was thick and oppressive and he felt like he was being squashed within it. He let go of the tenuous grip of control he had and the swirling sensation launched itself toward the spot he had been protecting. Tagan physically broke under the strain. His knees gave out and he fell, putting his other hand out to brace himself. When his left hand came into contact with the tome the swirling sensation flowed through his neck, down his left arm and back into the tome like a stream that had found a new path, and missed its mark. The world popped back into view and Tagan blinked, trying to clear the fogginess from his eyes. Lozan was slumped forward on the other side of the table, adepts rushing to his side. The eye in the stone of Balz was crimson red and Tagan felt a surge of power up his right arm, stretching across his forehead in a final push to see what, if anything, Tagan had learned of the other world. Like he was slamming a door, Tagan denied the feeling and then he fell back into the arms of the handler behind him. Before he blacked out he could see the same thing had happened to Lozan.
Chapter 11