Read The Silver Sheen Chronicle - Emblems of Power Page 8


  People moved to either side of the road as Kosai and the Captain walked side by side down Market Street. The Captain’s stern, ragged stare gleamed power, rank, honor. Kosai could only gaze down the road, glancing at the people; their brown, torn, dust covered clothing draped over their frail bodies.

  Kosai tried not to breathe in the ripe smell of waste that gathered on the edges of the road. Children ran next to the small streams of refuse, pausing for a moment to watch the Captain and Kosai walk by in their uniforms.

  The Captain and Kosai continued through the crowded street. Merchants stood behind their stands, attempting to sell what little wares they could offer. Some sold tools, some plates and dishes, and others cloth and clothes. Kosai looked at each of the tables as he walked by and noticed that today, not one of them sold food of any kind.

  As they walked out of Market Street and into the pavilion, the Captain slowed his pace and walked up to the fountain. Crowds of people walked to and from the fountain, filling buckets and barrels with the fresh, clean water. The Captain dipped his hands into the cool water to drink. Kosai did the same.

  “Kosai,” the Captain said softly. “Place your amulet inside your shirt. I do not want the school to see it… at least not yet.” Kosai did as he was told, though he wondered why. “That domed building on the other side of the plaza is where we are headed. When we get there, you need stand back from the stairs while I talk to the two beggars.”

  When they walked up to the domed building, Kosai did as commanded. The Captain stooped down and whispered to the beggars. Kosai closed his eyes and focused on their words.

  “What business brings you here, Captain of the Guard?” one of the beggars asked.

  “My business is with the Teachers and concerning my student…” The Captain’s words drifted off as the crowd roared in excitement. Kosai turned and watched as a group of citizens, in tattered clothes, rushed from Capitol road, towards the pavilion.

  “You there, what is the commotion about?” Kosai yelled pointing at a boy about twelve years old. The young man turned, but did not stop.

  “A new shipment just arrived! Fresh fruit and meat straight from the sea! The Three Brothers are auctioning off the goods in Market Street!” he yelled. The Captain clapped his hand on Kosai’s shoulder.

  “How quickly news travels through our streets,” the Captain said.

  “But we didn’t see anyone from the syndicate on Market Street? How could we have missed it?”

  “My guess is that they sent messengers ahead. The caravan probably just entered our gates when we left and entered Market Street as we entered the pavilion.”

  “At least some of them will be able to eat today, the sell being an auction.”

  “So instead of charging ridiculous prices, they charge them for all they’ve got without knowing what they’ve got. They’ll sap every piece of silver from them today.” The Captain grunted in frustration. “Let’s be going. The teachers are waiting for us inside.”

  Kosai and the Captain walked up the short stair and into the building. A cold gust of wind brushed over them as their boots clicked on the marble tile floor. One of the beggars walked in with them and escorted them left, down the curved hall. As the three walked down through the stairs, thirteen figures stood in a circle in the arena. The beggar led the Captain and Kosai into the center of the group and then walked back up the stairs. A cold shiver cut down Kosai’s back. His stomach turned, he shook with nervousness, breathed a little harder, and slowly raised his hands to eye level, preparing to strike.

  “The boy does well Captain,” a deep voice said, though Kosai could not tell whom it came from.

  “Show me your faces!” Kosai barked.

  “Kosai!” the Captain scolded.

  “Captain,” an old female said, “we thank you for him, for the time promised to us by him. He has shown us that he is somewhat attuned to the Faye. He will do well here. Kosai, we welcome you into our School.” Each of the individuals removed the hoods from their faces and smiled.

  The old woman was short with tight curly grey hair that surrounded her head like a rain cloud.

  “This is our head matron. She will escort you to your room,” someone with a deep voice said. Kosai turned to the voice. The man stood behind them and approached the Captain. He was taller than his father and just as muscular. In his left hand, he held a thick wooden staff that was decorated with dozens of brands. “Thank you for your time Captain and for your student.” The Captain shook the teacher’s hand and nodded. All the teachers except the head matron exited the arena. Kosai let out a soft grunt of frustration for not taking a mental picture of each of the teachers. The torches flickered and sizzled for a moment against the marble pillars. As the teachers were leaving, the Captain grabbed Kosai’s arm firmly and leaned in to his ear.

  “Kosai, we have only a few minutes before you are escorted to your room and I am escorted out of the building,” he whispered. “I want to give you one more piece of advice. Tell no one of your mission. Learn as much about each teacher as possible. Good luck.” Kosai looked up at the Captain and nodded. As a beggar began to walk down the stairs to escort the Captain away, the matron walked up to Kosai.

  “Kosai, it’s so good to see you finally. We have all been, well, at least most of us have been excited to aid and guide you here in your journey through the School of the Faye.” Her voice shook and her head wobbled as she spoke. The beggar made his way down the stairs and stood behind the head matron. “Captain, this fine gentleman will escort you back to the city. We greatly appreciate your time, sacrifice, and service to us.” The Captain turned to look at Kosai, but didn’t say a word. His face spoke enough.

  “Kosai, if you would please.” The old woman beckoned him up to her side. Kosai closed his eyes and took a deep breath, regaining his composure, but still wary of what was around him. “Let me show you to your room, and then to your instructor,” the woman said as she wrapped her thin arm around his.

  Together they walked up the stairs and down the hallway. They stopped at the entrance for a moment for Kosai to give his last goodbye to the Captain. He stood at attention and saluted. The Captain returned the gesture and walked into the pavilion. Once they passed the door, the woman cleared her throat.

  “Your arms are so strong son. It’s so nice to have someone walk with me. I don’t get that opportunity often, with everyone studying and practicing; most of the time I am tending to the laundry, meals, and injuries. Tell me a little about yourself, what do you like to do in your free time?” The woman asked, looking up at Kosai as they continued to walk slowly down the hall.

  “I… train,” Kosai said.

  “That will benefit you here, but don’t overdo yourself,” the woman said, jabbing her sharp elbow into his ribs with a smile and soft laugh. Shortly after the entrance, there was a wooden door on the left. The hallway widened significantly, looking almost like another room. Smaller chandeliers, like the one in the meeting room, were spaced evenly apart from each other and lit the grand hall with the same glowing globes. The hallway continued down to one end of the school and then turned to the left. “Do you have any questions about our school?”

  “Conduits wear similar white uniforms with different colored stripes. Why?”

  “It distinguishes skill here in our school. They are all the same uniform, but the stripes change as the wearer increases in their ability. Blue is what new students wear. It provides the most protection, reducing the power of any attack by ninety percent. The green striped robe is the same in that it provides protection, but only reduces the pain by thirty percent. The purple striped robes are what the Teachers and top students wear. Our Head Teacher, Principle Daius, also carries the Teacher’s staff. It is passed down from Head Teacher to Head Teacher, carrying with it a portion of knowledge privy only to the Head Teacher. Where is your uniform? I heard it was supposed to be sent to you.”

  “The Captain is sending it back today.”

&n
bsp; “All is well then. While I have you for a few more moments, I want to share with you what this school is and what we teach. Our school, the School of the Faye, was formally founded by Zenith, the second head teacher. Here, we help those that are attuned to the Faye grow their abilities, and mold our students into helpful members of society. Most of our students travel north to Varlette, I believe you know it as Last Stand, and try to repair the Seeps by creating Living Earth. They work closely with the graduates from the Barracks in reclaiming the city. Conduits that stay in the cities aid in excavation of minerals and water, and healing.” The Matron said the world ‘healing’ firmly, and slowly, looking at Kosai with a mischievous, understanding grin. “Oh, and look, down the hall there is Mearto, your teacher. Mearto!” she called. She released Kosai’s arm and waved down the hall. “Mearto, your student is here. Come, come meet him.”

  She was a tall, slender woman. Her long red hair was in a triple braid and swayed softly side to side with every step. As she turned her head, white streaks spun and twisted in the blue irises of her eyes, like thin, lofty clouds. To Kosai, she looked to be in her early twenties.

  Kosai would be graduating into the Guard within the year and courtship would be the next matter to attend to. No time was given in the Barracks on matters of courtship and women, and Kosai didn’t allow himself the time, focusing his attention to training. Kosai stared blankly back into the stormy eyes. Through his teenage years, he was so focused on becoming a stronger, more talented fighter that there was no time in his life for any girl or woman. It wasn’t as if he didn’t take notice to an attractive woman, or was kept away from them. It was just that Kosai never took interest in the opposite sex. Kosai felt vulnerable. Looking at her made him wish that he had at least asked about proper etiquette around women. His heart raced, his eyes stuck on hers. There was something about her that sent pins and needles up and down his spine.

  “So, you’re the outsider I’m to teach?” Mearto criticized.

  “That is no way to talk to your newest pupil.”

  “He has shown no promise, has no ability, and probably can’t even snap a flame in his fingers,” her attention turned to Kosai. “Can you?” She snapped her fingers summoning a spark to appear.

  “No,” Kosai said softly. Blood rushed to his face and his cheeks warmed.

  Mearto shook her head and stared at the ground. Kosai couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering. The sight of her neck made Kosai’s back tingle. As his gaze lowered, the flushing feeling in his cheeks began to grow into his neck and shoulders.

  “Kosai!” His eyes jumped from her waist back to her eyes. The warm feeling disappeared as her gentle sky colored eyes changed to a raging, swirling and twisting, thunder storm.

  “Sorry. I don’t think it is much appropriate-”

  “That’s right, it isn’t. Thank you, matron, for bringing our guest, you may leave us.”

  “He is going to have a fun time with her,” Kosai heard the matron say with a soft chuckle as she turned to walk away.

  “Since you enjoy scanning with your eyes, I have your first assignment.” As Mearto continued down the hallway, Kosai couldn’t help himself as his eyes drifted down her long braid, to the small of her back and to her hips. “And if you keep looking at me like that, I will make you believe that you are a horse for the rest of your life.”

  Kosai, terrified that she might execute her threat, hurried to her side, turned the corner and continued walking down the hall.

  “Down at the end of the hall and on the right, is our mess hall. Halfway down, on the left, in the open the area, are the teachers’ quarters. Students can walk in the open area, but are not, under any circumstances, to enter the teachers’ rooms unless invited. The second door from the last is the laundry services should your uniform get soiled. At the opposite end of the hall on the west side, is your dormitory. There is one bunk and one trunk per student, like the Barracks I believe. And this is the West Stair.” She paused placing her hand on a handrail to a staircase that spiraled up and down. A soft green light floated down from the stairs. Below was complete darkness. “Above us is our patch of Living Earth that we call the Oasis. It is where most of the students meditate and study. The Seer spends most of his time in the Oasis and is available to the students of our school at any time, but I doubt you will have any time to spare for such visits.”

  As the two walked down the West Stair, Kosai looked up, trying to peer through the green light and catch a glimpse of the Oasis, but as they descended, the light grew dimmer and dimmer until, at the end of the stair, Kosai and Mearto stood in complete darkness. Mearto grabbed a metallic object and snapped her fingers. There was a bright crack of flame, which quickly dimmed as Mearto adjusted the brightness of an oil lantern.

  “Lanterns are at the bottom of the stair on your right about three feet off the ground,” Mearto said as she grabbed a second lantern and lit it by touching the glass. The wick of the lantern burst in flame. Kosai took it and adjusted the dial so that it let off a comfortable glow. “Follow me.”

  As he followed Mearto, Kosai looked around at the seemingly never-ending aisles and shelves of books. Each bookcase reached the ceiling and was fitted with a sliding ladder. The walkways were narrow and every way Mearto led Kosai, there were more and more books. Kosai glanced at some of the titles as they walked. Few were on subjects Kosai was familiar with or had studied briefly such as politics, alchemy and history. Most of the books were about subjects he never heard of. He followed his teacher through the labyrinth of books until she stopped just inside one of the alleys.

  “Do you want me to read all of these?” Kosai asked, shocked at the number of books and their width.

  “No one has ever read all of these books,” she said as she scanned the titles, drawing her finger across the spines of the books. “We are always acquiring more. There is an unlimited source of knowledge within these walls, and there is still more to discover both within and without. The section that I want you to read is… this way,” Mearto said.

  Mearto led Kosai deeper into the library. Books were crammed next to each other filling the entire shelf. Some books seemed to be untouched for years based on the thick film of dust that covered their spines, pages, and shelves. Other books were no more than a stack of pages bound together in leather.

  Mearto continued to lead Kosai through the library. Each dust covered book and shelf looked exactly like the last. When Mearto stopped, Kosai hoped that she would stay.

  “Here is your first assignment. You are to scan each of the books on that shelf.” She pointed to a book shelf where most of the books’ titles were worn or faded. There were eight rows of books that were above the one she was pointing at, two below. The book shelf she was pointing to spanned twelve books before it connected to the other book case.

  “How do I get out when I am finished?” Kosai asked, hoping that she would return to escort him out of the maze. Mearto grabbed Kosai’s lantern and placed it into a holder on the shelf.

  “That is your second assignment. If you want to eat or sleep comfortably, you have to get out of here by yourself.” With that, Mearto turned and walked away, the light from her lantern growing dimmer with each step.

  “Well that shouldn’t be too hard,” Kosai said to himself. He sighed as he picked up the first book that was on the left side on the shelf. The book had a brown leather covering and the title had been pressed instead of painted. Kosai wiped the dust off the cover. The book was titled “The Faye and Their Workings” and was a much thinner volume than the others, looking to be about one-hundred pages, and had the feel of a journal, rather than an actual book. Kosai glanced at the cover again as he sat down and began to read.

  The first five pages were blank, but as he turned the sixth page, the edge of the paper sliced his thumb, drawing a thin line of blood. As he brought his thumb to his lips to suck on the wound, a small drop fell on the page. When he looked at the page again, there was one phrase written
with what looked like a quill pen.

  The first lesson you must learn about the Faye is patience, so be patient.

  Kosai read the words, nodded, and turned the page. The next page was blank, he turned it, and the next page was blank, as well as the next, and one after that. He realized that each page was blank as he quickly thumbed through the pages. When he got to the last page, there was another phrase.

  Were you patient?

  “What?” Kosai asked in frustration. The words on the page seemed to ask the question a second time, and then more words began to appear in the book.

  I told you at the beginning that you had to be patient!

  The words that wrote themselves faded and Kosai jumped back, pressing his back against the adjacent bookshelf. The book fell from his lap, closed, and then opened itself to the sixth page.

  The first lesson you must learn about the Faye is patience, so be patient.

  “Ok, patience, right.” Kosai hesitantly picked up the book, and waited for more words to appear. “Can… can you hear me?”

  Kosai sat silently and watched the words on the book fade back into the white pages. In a few seconds, the pages were white again, with no evidence of former ink. He crossed his legs, sitting, patiently, on the stone floor. After a few moments, black lettering re-appeared on the white pages.

  Your past is written in your blood, and your blood is in my pages. I know you now. I know all the questions you would think of asking for they too are written in your blood. You need not ask me aloud.

  The words stayed on the page, and Kosai read them over and over.

  “How much do you know about me?” Kosai thought. Eventually the words faded and new ones began to appear.

  I am the only book you will ever need. My writer wrote me with the ability to absorb information from other books or libraries. I have gained all the information within this library, and better yet, I have only kept what information is useful. Every principle and idea that you would ever need to know is found in my pages, but tell no one that you have found me. To others, I look like nothing more than a blank journal. Many have opened me, their blood is in these pages, and I know them. Your blood has been the first to unlock my pages.

  “Why mine though?” Kosai looked up from the book as he heard a group of people run down the West Stair. Kosai closed the book, placed it on the shelf and closed his eyes, trying to listen to the exact count in the group. As he closed his eyes, the group split into two. Kosai listened for few seconds longer and figured there were three in one group and two in the other. They were going to try to box him within the aisle. Kosai looked up at the shelves, and attempted to climb upwards. But as he began to pull his body up, the wood moaned and cracked slightly. Climbing up to the higher ground for advantage was not an option. The group closed in on him.

  Two appeared at his left, three at his right. They were taller boys, each wearing the uniform with a green stripe and holding their own lantern. Tan cloth masks covered the lower part of their faces. Kosai’s skin tingled and bumped. He stood with his back to the bookshelf where he found the book. Each boy stretched their open hand towards him, fingers up, palm out, as if telling him to stop. Kosai breathed and his vision darkened, his knees trembled and he stumbled forward, falling against the other bookcase, knocking a few books off the shelves and onto the floor.

  “Not this time,” Kosai said. He swung blindly at the group to his left. The boys backed into the open. Kosai reached for one of the boys as they stepped away and caught one by the collar of his shirt. Kosai reached his left leg across the boy’s right and tripped him. As the boy fell, Kosai swung him into the crook of his elbow, placed his other hand behind the boy’s neck and squeezed. The student coughed, spat and squirmed as he struggled to breathe. Kosai tightened his grip. The boy swung the lamp violently at Kosai’s head, missed, dropped the lamp, and went limp in Kosai’s arms. The other four stood in front of Kosai and closed their hands.

  “Not another step or I kill your friend here. If I hold this grip for another minute, he will die. Take a step closer and all I have to do is lift,” Kosai lifted his arms, tilting the boy’s head up slightly, “and twist,” he started to turn the boy’s head slowly and stopped when he felt the pressure of the neck bones resist further movement.

  “You won’t do it,” one of the boys whispered. The words were clear, but the tone and essence of the voice was mutated and sounded like a crackle of a fire mixed with words.

  “I have killed dozens of men in self-defense, both by the sword and with my hands. Do not force me to do the same here.”

  “You won’t do it,” whispered another boy. Kosai squeezed his arms tighter. The blood of the young man in his arms pulsed against his forearms.

  “Maybe he will,” another boy whispered. The words seemed to come from all around him. Kosai assumed the boy who was backing away from the group was the one who spoke.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Again, the words seemed to come from all around him and they sounded like crackling flames. A boy lifted his hand and pointed an open palm at Kosai. “I advise you to run out of this room as fast as you can.” Kosai assumed the boy who raised his arm was talking. The remaining boys looked at each other but didn’t speak. After a moment, the three bolted for the exit. One stopped and turned to look as Kosai began to loosen his grip, but disappeared behind a bookshelf.

  “You would sacrifice your friend to kill me?” Kosai asked surprised, still holding unrelenting his grip.

  “His life is of little worth to me compared to what I have to give up.” At those words, the boy closed his hands and the lamps went out. Instantly, Kosai thrust the limp body in his arms forward. The limp body hit the attacker. Kosai used the distraction and rushed his opponent. He jumped and kicked forward just before where he thought his attacker would be. His strike landed in the attacker’s gut, but it wasn’t as strong of a strike as Kosai would have liked. Kosai could hear the attacker take a few steps back. Kosai rushed his opponent again with another aerial kick. It landed solidly in the masked youth’s chest, doubling him over and sending rolling backwards into a main alleyway. Kosai was just able to make out the outline of the book cases and where his assailant lay.

  The masked youth stood slowly as Kosai approached. Jagged arcs of lightning sparked around the boy’s hands, the bright flashes of light briefly illuminating the area. When the sparks stopped, Kosai was left blind again, his eyes adjusting rapidly to the bright light, but slowly to the sudden darkness.

  “Do you think I would approach you in open combat?” the voice said again from every direction. Kosai tried to block out the voice and focus on another sound, but all he could hear was the voice. There was another spark of lightning. Before Kosai could react, the masked youth threw a white orb at him. It struck Kosai in the chest and sent him flying backwards. Kosai’s skin burned underneath the chainmail.

  Another arc of lightning cracked in the masked youth’s hand. Kosai rolled out of the way just in time. His armor and uniform clinked and rattled as he moved and he hoped that the masked youth’s senses were not as attuned as his. Kosai dared not move in the dark for fear of being heard. There was another crack of lightning, brighter and bigger than the last, and for the briefest second Kosai saw his assailant. Kosai rolled again just as another blast exploded next to him and rushed a third time. Lightning sparked again, giving Kosai a clear picture of where to land his next blow. The masked youth closed his fist, and started to back pedal, but he was too slow. Kosai sidestepped another electric orb, transferred his weight, and launched into the air.

  He twisted, spun his leg around and planted his shin into the boy’s skull. At the crack of impact, the boy went down. Kosai didn’t hesitate. He rushed to the unconscious attacker, kneeled on his chest and removed the cloth that covered his face.

  One of the lanterns flickered back to light and Kosai looked around to ensure he and the two boys were alone. The other boy he had choked was unconscious, in the same position Kosai had
left him. Kosai decided that the lantern’s wick was not completely extinguished when it was put out and re-lit of its own accord. The youth who had shot lightning from his hands was beginning to stir.

  Kosai looked down at his own uniform briefly. His armor and shirt were blackened from the initial blast and smelled of burnt metal. He then looked at the masked attacker. He looked close to Kosai’s age. He was Kosai’s height with an average build of a healthy diet and underutilized muscles. Slight stubble was beginning to form on his upper lip and his face was not that of a young teenager, nor of an adult. The boy groaned as Kosai tapped him on the cheek. After a few more taps, he woke and tried to shuffle away. Kosai forced him to the ground, shoving his forearm into the boy’s neck, poised to strike with his other.

  “Who sent you?” Kosai whispered intensely, listening to his surroundings and making sure that the rest of the group was leaving. The other four were already climbing up the stairs.

  “It doesn’t matter.” The boy let out a light chuckle as he spoke. “You were dead the moment you walked in here.”

  “I could crush your throat and kill you in seconds, and no one would hear your screams,” Kosai whispered as he placed his finger tips on the young man’s throat between the jugular and Adam’s apple and squeezed. The boy coughed and grabbed Kosai’s hands. He kicked and squirmed, and then Kosai released.

  “We heard a rumor that you are going to destroy the school,” the boy croaked quickly. His blonde hair had been combed off to one side and was now ruffled. Gasping for air, he stared back at Kosai.

  “Who did you hear it from?”

  “The Seer,” the boy said. Kosai smiled and struck the boy across the jaw. Still kneeling over him, Kosai memorized his face. The boy looked like he was from a wealthier family in Linnouse with his blonde hair and blue eyes. There was a small amount of fat under his chin and in his cheeks. A bruise began to form on his face. Kosai nodded in satisfaction, knowing that he could find the boy again, if needed.

  “I can’t have you following me,” Kosai said as he stood up. He grabbed the book that wrote itself, tucked it between his trousers and shirt on his right hip, grabbed both lamps, and ran towards the exit. He closed his eyes and listened as other people entered and exited the library and mapped out in his mind where he needed to go. After listening for a couple seconds, he ran straight towards the West Stair.

  When Kosai reached the West Stair, he blew out the torches, set them on the rack and then continued his run upward skipping two or three stairs at time. He bumped into Mearto at the entrance to the main level. Each stumbled, trying to catch their balance. Kosai grabbed the rail. Mearto stumbled for a moment and started to fall backwards. Instinctively, Kosai reached an arm around her waist and pulled her towards him. She placed a hand on the rail and the other on the wall opposite. Kosai took a breath and regained his composure, trying not to look in a rush or wearied. As he breathed through his nose, he caught the smell of sea salt and lilac.

  “Kosai,” Mearto said sharply. “Please remove your hand, I am quite fine now.” Kosai blushed and removed his hand, realizing that his hand placement was slightly lower than he desired. “I see you have made it out of the library and I assume you must be a quick reader to finish your assignment. What is that smell?” Mearto sniffed the air and looked at Kosai’s uniform. “What happened to your armor? It looks burnt.”

  “I um… need to take a break and make a visit to the Seer. You…” he paused. She smelled of lilac and sea salt. Hadn’t he smelled that before? Mearto looked at Kosai expectantly for a moment. Kosai was almost overcome by the aroma, hinting at something, something important...

  “Kosai, I don’t have all day.”

  “You should go into the library, where you showed me. There is someone there who needs you,” Kosai said while slowly walking around Mearto, and further up the West Stair. Mearto nodded and continued to walk into the library.

  Kosai calmly walked up the stairs and tried to wipe the black burn residue off his armor. The stairs were made from a black metal. The staircase spiraled tightly upward. The hand rail was a flat piece of metal that followed the stairs and was supported by twisted cast iron rods. A sweet smell of flowers and honey grew stronger as he walked up the stairs. The wooden door at the top of the stairs had a rounded top and cast iron handle. He hesitated a moment, gathered his composure, and pushed the door open.

  Moist air poured over his face, dampening his hair and eyebrows. Moss and luscious green grass covered the ground. Three tiered fountains, a third of the size of the main fountain in the heart of the city, were spread about the Oasis, splashing and spilling clear water throughout the green landscape, creating small streams that carved through the ground like blue snakes. The streams came together in a type of moat that circled around the Oasis. Grass, twigs, and insects floated in the water. Kosai guessed that the Oasis was another spring, but couldn’t figure out how the water traveled to the top floor. He shook his head, putting away the thought and walked forwards.

  Goldenrod yellow, blood red, and fire orange flowers interlaced with ivy covered the surfaces of the fountains. The pedals formed a long bell shape, like a trumpet and were aptly called trumpet flowers. On the perimeter of the oasis was a covered walkway which was supported by large, white, stone pillars. Ivy and other trumpet flowers crawled up the pillars. Pollen was suspended in the air, like miniature floating golden orbs. Bushes, small shrubs, and fruit trees were also in the oasis, giving the scenery depth and texture. Small buds of fruit were just beginning to grow on the trees. Bees dug deep into the flowers to extract nectar. Kosai looked around and spotted three beehives. Chickens clucked and scratched at the ground, attempting to pick out grubs and beetles with their beaks.

  At the center of the Oasis was a reed-woven chair that looked like half an egg opened and stood on end. The Seer sat in the woven chair, legs crossed, hands in his lap, and his eyes closed. Some students walked slowly around the Oasis, others sat within the oasis, meditating. Kosai, seeing that the Seer was alone, took the opportunity and approached him.

  “Sir,” Kosai whispered. The Seer opened his eyes and smiled at Kosai.

  “Kosai, it is good to see you.” He laughed to himself again. “Oh, that one never gets old. But I do!” The Seer let out a deep belly laugh, and then wiped his eyes. “Tell me, how are you getting along so far?”

  “So far,” Kosai whispered, “I have heard a rumor about me destroying this school. That rumor, I also heard, came from you.” The Seer changed instantly. His smile changed to a frown and he leaned forward in his chair.

  “I assure you that I know of no such thing or spoke of such thing. Where did you hear this rumor?”

  “From a group of boys that just tried to kill me in the library,” Kosai said fiercely, though quietly. He took a deep breath and calmed himself.

  “That is disconcerting but explains the smell. Are you unharmed?” the Seer asked as he leaned forward in his chair.

  “A little sore, but ok for the most part,” Kosai replied.

  “Whoever sent those boys to kill you understands your true purpose for being here. How they could have discovered it, I am not sure.” The Seer paused, rose from his chair and placed an arm on Kosai’s shoulder. “Trust me. I would never insist upon your death. I am the one who saw you defeating the Dark One and requested that you discover the traitor within this school. Only you can defeat the Dark One. In you, I place my trust not only to the future of this school, but the future of the people as well.” The Seer removed his hand from Kosai’s shoulder and was about to walk away, then turned and looked thoughtfully at him. “Who knew you were in the Library?”

  “Mearto,” Kosai said.

  “And did this group of boys seem to wander until they found you, or did they come straight for you?” Kosai looked back at the staircase and was silent. “Now, Kosai, we cannot assume too much yet. You need to look into this further.”

  “Isn’t obvious she set me up?”


  “It is obvious, but it may not be the truth. Just a little while ago, I was visiting with her about you. She is quite flustered that she must teach one who is so old and so untalented, as she put it. I asked where you were, and she told me where you were in the library. Perhaps it is likely that she has told others. I warned her that it is not wise to leave a student, undisciplined as you are, with so much information. Perhaps Kosai, I should give you the same warning. There are things that you will learn here, that if done without proper preparation, will kill you. Be cautious. It would be a great tragedy to our cause if you were to die.”

  “Thank you, sir, for your advice and concern, I will be cautious.”

  As Kosai left the Oasis and traveled down the stairs, he met Mearto at the main level. She pointed at Kosai.

  “You,” she said bitterly. “Follow me, we need to talk.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Kosai responded militaristically. He followed Mearto into her office.

  The back wall was covered in books. A cot was built into the left wall, its supports made from thick wooden dowels. A canvass was sown tightly across the wooden supports with a pillow at one end and thin, folded blankets at the other. A desk made from a dark red wood was placed towards the back of the room and it was covered with more books and papers. The chair behind the desk was like those in the arena and there was a smaller, less ornate wooden chair across from the desk. She slammed the door, pointed at one of the chairs and ordered Kosai to sit as she rounded the desk and sat in her chair. Kosai did so. As Mearto sat, she ran her hands through her hair and across her face and said nothing.

  “What’s wrong?” Kosai asked.

  “Quiet. I need to think for a moment.” Mearto barked. She stood up from her chair and paced around the room twice, and then sat back down again. “I sent you down into the library to get you away from me so that I could figure out what to do with you. I can’t leave you alone for an hour and trouble has already found you.”

  “In my defense ma’am--”

  “Quiet,” Mearto interrupted. “I am to teach you how to defeat the Dark One. Now, you must answer me honestly. Exactly what happened while you were in the library?”

  Kosai explained how he was reading a book and was learning about patience when the group attacked him. He did not mention anything about the book that wrote itself, or about the rumor that led him to the Seer.

  “Take off your armor and your shirt. I want to see your injuries.”

  Kosai blushed.

  “Don’t be so immature about it, you have second degree burns most likely under that armor, and they need to be healed.”

  “The pain is good for me, it makes me stronger.”

  “Unless it gets infected and is beyond healing. Then you’re dead. Stand up if you can and take off your armor and shirt.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Kosai replied. He first removed his cloak, folded it, and placed it on the chair. As he removed his chainmail, he pulled the book from his side and wrapped it in the chain links, concealing it from Mearto and placed it on the cloak. He did the same with his shirt but kept the amulet on.

  “Kosai, I was not informed of your promotion. Congratulations,” she said dryly, eyeing the three-pronged amulet as she looked over Kosai’s body. The cotton shirt was singed through in places, and burned in others. Where the shirt burned through, his skin was a pasty-pink color and dark red tendrils of cooked blood weaved away from the injuries. “You have multiple second degree burns. The caster was of some skill, but it would have taken more than this to kill you. He was over-confident in his ability, or was counting on landing a killing stroke.” She still spoke in a matter-of-fact tone as she looked over the wounds. She removed the amulet from Kosai’s neck and smiled slightly. “Your amulet must have conducted some of the heat. There is an exact imprint of your talisman on your chest.”

  Kosai looked down and smiled at the burnt imprint of his lieutenant’s talisman. The same dark, bloody tendrils curved away from the injury. Mearto gestured for him to turn around. There were a few bruises and more burns. She clapped her hands together and a soft green glow emitted from them. She placed her hands over the wounds, and the green light percolated into Kosai’s skin. The dark blood trails vanished, the pink blotchy skin returned to its normal hue, and the pain that Kosai was pushing against lifted.

  “Get dressed,” she said, her tone still flat. She turned, walked behind her desk, and leaned against the book case while Kosai put on his uniform. After Kosai was dressed, she turned and glared at him. “Why, after you incapacitated one of the boys that attacked you, did you go up to the Seer?”

  “It seemed logical. There was an attempt on my life. I thought he should know about it.” Mearto tapped her fingers on the desk.

  “While I was running towards the place where I dropped you off, I caught a glimpse of someone but couldn’t see him clearly. I called out to them, but they ran. Whoever it was must have known the library very well to make it out of there without a lamp. Do you remember what your attacker looked like?”

  “I could point him out of a crowd. He should also have a bruise on his left cheek.”

  “Not unless he healed it. When you get the chance, point him out to me. When I am not instructing you, be with others. This attempt on your life makes me uneasy.”

  “Who do you think is behind it?”

  “Everyone knows you are here to learn to kill the Dark One. The only reason I can see anyone wanting to kill you is to stop you from destroying our enemy. This attempt on your life deeply troubles me. For now, I will bring you books to read and you will study in my office with me.” She leaned back in her chair, rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers, stared at the door and sighed. “Meet me here after breakfast tomorrow. I will show you to your room.”

  The bunks were like the ones at the Barracks. Each student had a single bed, with a chest at the foot of the bed. But unlike the bunks at the Barracks, each student was allowed one nightstand and a candle. Kosai guessed that there were thirty bunks to a room. Some of the bunks were empty. Some boys were already asleep, while others took to reading, or writing.

  “Usually the boys light their own lamps by snapping their fingers.” Mearto demonstrated by snapping her fingers close to the wick of a candle. It lit quickly. “Teachers are allowed in the quarters of the students, though I do not like to be here. This is your bed. If you wish to read or write, or do anything by candlelight, it would be advantageous to either acquire some matches or learn to light without as I have shown you. Sleep well.” Mearto excused herself and Kosai looked at his bunk.

  On top of the chest at the foot of the bed was a crate holding his new uniform for the School of the Faye. He removed it from crate and placed it in the chest. Underneath the uniform were his mask and a note.

  “Always be on your guard, trust no one.” The note was signed by the Captain and Kosai nodded at the advice.

  Especially when you are sleeping in the same room as your killer, Kosai thought. He looked out across the dormitory, but the boy’s faces were hidden in books or just outside the reach of light. He took the book out of his shirt, placed the note in it and set it on the bed. He took off his Guard uniform, placed it in the chest, and put on the white shirt and pants with the blue stripe down the side. After the sleeves were tied, he lay on the bed and picked up the curious book, the book that he somehow managed to hold during the fight for his life in the library, and the one he’d kept hidden from Mearto during his healing.

  He opened it to the first page and stared at its emptiness.

  CHAPTER 8