by Kyle West
“What do the Seekers do up there?” I asked.
“Not many go up there, actually, but sometimes the Prophets do. Fiona is one; she was raised about the time that I arrived six months ago. In fact, she’s up there right now.”
“What happens when a non-Seeker goes through?” I asked.
“I’ve never heard of such a thing happening. However, it is strictly forbidden and may result in your expulsion.”
We gave the Arch one last look before turning around.
“What Sect do you want to join, Isa?”
“Either the Scholars or the Judges,” she said. “Probably the first, because I find history so fascinating.” She smiled. “Besides, not all Scholars are doomed to a life in the stacks. Many dig in various ruins, which comes with its own set of dangers.” She paused. “Speaking of...let me show you the library.”
We went into the Sanctum by the back entrance, finding ourselves once again in the Great Hall. Already, the initiates had wiped down the tables and straightened the chairs. Other than that, the Hall was completely empty.
We headed toward the front, turning down the corridor that led past the library. When we passed under the first of these arches and entered, it was only then that I got a sense of the library’s true scale. My eyes widened and my breath caught as I saw thousands – perhaps even tens of thousands – of books, all crammed together on hundreds of shelves. A mural had been painted on the dome above, depicting a group of people in flowing, colorful robes, standing beneath a Silverwood. A set of curved stone steps circled upward to the second level of the dome, where yet more books had been catalogued. Moving among the stacks were gray-robed initiates and apprentices, along with several white-robed Seekers. Set up in the center of the marble floor were several long tables placed end on end, where many scriveners were busy scrawling. Not a word was spoken.
I wanted Isa to tell me all she knew about it, but instead, she motioned for me to follow. We walked among the first floor stacks for a while. The air was filled with the smell of paper, vellum, and ink. It was a bit musty, but I was surprised to see not only roughly made books, but older books that had been bound before the Ragnarok War.
“How old are these?” I whispered.
“Centuries old,” Isa said. She nodded toward the scriveners busy at work. “And they make copies of the more important works, adding them to our collection.” She stretched her right wrist, wincing. “The Champions will make you hurt all over, but the Scholars will take all that hurt and put it in one place.”
We returned to the center of the library, passing the tables where initiates and apprentices paid us little mind.
“I’d take you upstairs, but it’s barred to initiates. Even apprentices have to have a pass from a Seeker.”
“Why is it barred?”
“Information is more dangerous than weapons,” Isa said, sounding like she was quoting someone. “By your fourth week, you’ll be using a real blade in your training with the Champions. It’ll be a year or two before you’re ever allowed upstairs.” Isa paused. “With that said, it’s probably time for your first lesson with Champion Garin.”
We left the library and returned to the Great Hall, where Isaru, Ret, and Samal were standing quietly in the center, apparently waiting for me to join them. It appeared as if Martin, who was now walking toward the western wing, had given them his own tour of the premises.
“I have to return to the library for my lesson,” Isa said. “If you have any questions, just ask.”
“Thanks for showing me around,” I said.
As Isa left, all the boys’ eyes followed her. When she was out of sight, Ret whistled.
“How come I didn’t get a tour with her?”
“That’s your roommate, right?” Samal asked.
I rolled my eyes, not even bothering to answer.
Isaru was about to say something, but stopped short when two Elders walked through the Sanctum’s entrance: Tellor of the Champions and Aurelius of the Sages.
“Ah,” Elder Tellor. “Here they are. Are you ready to begin your training?”
“Yes, Elder,” Samal said.
“Good. You’ll find Champion Garin on the path outside. You are to meet with him every other day following breakfast, on the toll of the second bell.”
“Good luck, initiates,” Elder Aurelius said.
With that, they continued on, talking in a confidential tone.
We went outside into the cool sunshine.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
WE FOUND SEEKER GARIN STANDING alone at the bottom of the path. He was young, perhaps in his early twenties, and very handsome. He had dark brown eyes, honey-brown hair, and his bare torso revealed a tanned, muscled body honed from hours of training under the sun. In his left hand, he held a thin practice sword. Already, I felt a blush spreading across my cheeks.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Samal smirk.
“Welcome, initiates,” he said, giving a graceful bow. He didn’t seem to be embarrassed in the least about being shirtless. “I’m Seeker Garin of the Champions, and it is with me that you’ll begin your training.”
“How will we start, Seeker?” Samal asked.
“We’ll begin today with the simplest of lessons, yet oftentimes, what appears simple at first can be the most difficult. But with skill and practice, seeking Stillness will become as natural as breathing.”
Samal looked as if he was going to ask another question, but Garin cut him off and continued.
“First, we begin with a bit of theory. There are the Four Disciplines: two physical and two spiritual. We’ll begin with the two physical disciplines: Movement and Stillness. To master Movement, you must also master the art of Stillness, and vice versa. You must train yourself to become aware of your every movement through space, no matter how small. The width of a hair might be the difference between your life and your death.”
And then, Seeker Garin locked his arms into a fighting stance so quickly that his blade was a blur. The only thing that moved was his chest in steady rising and falling, a metronome that never lost its rhythm.
“As with Movement and Stillness, the two physical disciplines, there are the two Spiritual disciplines: Resistance and Acceptance. They are all necessary at different times, and it is up to the Seeker to determine which is more prudent.” Garin paused to sheathe his blade. “Oftentimes, to move from Resistance to Acceptance, we must mirror the physical discipline. And with time and practice, you will learn when to be silent, and when to speak; when to move, and when to be still; when to accept, and when to resist.” Seeker Garin paused. “This applies not only to fighting, but will strengthen whatever line of study you pursue.”
He opened his eyes and looked right at me with focus and intensity.
“Shanti, isn’t it?” he asked.
I had difficulty finding my voice. “Yes?”
From beside me, Samal chuckled.
“Why is it important to seek Silence?”
I didn’t know what kind of answer Garin expected, so I guessed. “So we know what to do?”
“Yes, that is part of the answer,” Garin said. “Good. There is no perfect answer to my question, because words can only convey so much. Good ideas go beyond mere words, and sometimes, the entire path of a lifetime is to bring oneself in line with an idea. The dragons have no need for speech, but we humans must spend our entire conscious lives confined to it. There are other means of expression, of course – gestures, facial expressions, auras – but they are all limited by the space they occupy. But freedom can be found even in confinement.”
I looked at the others skeptically, but the only one who seemed to understand was Isaru. His eyes were focused and intent, and he looked ready to apply whatever Seeker Garin was teaching. What that might be, I couldn’t guess. I wasn’t very good at all this spiritual talk; I had always been more of a practical person.
“And when you are ready,” Seeker Garin said, “when your spirit has been adequately prepared, you w
ill be able to connect with the Xenofold. You will then be guided by the collective thoughts and memories of all the Elekai that came before you. Such a connection is tenuous, at best, even among the most powerful of Seekers. It is a connection we spend a lifetime strengthening.”
“What is the Xenofold?” I asked. “How do we connect to it?”
“The Xenofold is the collective soul of the Elekai. Dragons are born with a spiritual connection to it, but with people, it must be learned. There was a time when it wasn’t so, but over the centuries, the Godsblood has weakened and must be taught to reawaken. Only those of the purest blood can hear the Xenofold without training, and such people are rarely born – they are called Inherents.” Garin paused. “The object of today’s lesson is to begin that process of reawakening. And we do that by Seeking Stillness.”
He gestured us to follow him from the stone path, into a meadow that lay beyond a few trees. We trailed him across the grass until he sat down at the base of a Silverwood, motioning for us to do the same.
“Close your eyes,” Garin said. “Breathe. Do nothing more.”
“Er...” Samal said. “This is it? When do I get to swing a sword?”
“Focus on your breaths and nothing else. When your attention drifts, bring it back to your breathing. This is how you train to seek Stillness, and it is from this state of calm and peace that you must take every action...even in the midst of battle. In a moment of chaos, never forget the value of Stillness.”
I was skeptical, but then again, I was a mere initiate and Garin was a full Seeker. So, I closed my eyes and focused on my breaths, becoming aware of the cool air, the sunlight falling on my arms, the rustle of the wind through the leaves, and the birdsong in the trees.
“Breathe,” Garin said. “Feel the air coming in, cold. Going out, warm. Any detail related to it. Focus your attention. When your mind drifts...bring it back to your breathing.”
I half-opened my right eye to see the others’ eyes closed. It was strange to see them like that, and I resisted the urge to giggle.
“Close your eyes, Shanti,” Garin said.
His eyes were still closed. How had he known mine were open?
We spent the next few minutes breathing and nothing else. I was bored and restless, not really seeing the point of the exercise. Isa had mentioned that the pains of training with Champions never fully went away, but if this was all there was, then I wouldn’t have to be worrying about any sort of pain for a long time.
“Now,” Garin said. “Listen.”
I heard nothing but the sounds I’d always been aware of – the wind, the leaves, the singing of birds. I tried to sense something deeper, not really sure what I was looking for. I became impatient, and it was at that moment that Garin called us off.
“Alright,” he said. “Open your eyes. What did you learn?”
I spoke without thinking. “That sitting still is boring.”
Both Ret and Samal chuckled, though Isaru said nothing.
“Boredom,” Garin said. “And what is boredom?”
No one spoke, because the answer seemed too obvious. Boredom was a basic feeling you couldn’t reduce.
“Boredom,” Isaru said, “is Resistance.”
Seeker Garin nodded. “Good. Not merely resistance; it is spiritual resistance.”
“And the other three disciplines are Acceptance, Stillness, and Movement,” Ret said.
Garin nodded. “They are all four forms of awareness. Awareness of Resistance. Awareness of Acceptance. Awareness of Movement. Awareness of Stillness. But all four must be mastered if one is to ever become a Seeker and forge a connection with the Xenofold, no matter their Sect. Champions, traditionally, are masters of Movement and Stillness, but the very best Champions are also masters of Resistance and Acceptance. Likewise, Scholars are masters of Resistance and Acceptance, as they are often thought of as tools for thinking. But the very best thinkers are also well-versed in Movement and Stillness. So it is that the four disciplines feed one into the other.”
Though Garin had explained the Four Disciplines, I understood little else. I just hoped I didn’t have to meditate anymore, because I was the type of person who couldn’t stand sitting still. I always had to be doing something, or I got bored.
“What about Movement?” Isaru asked. “What of Acceptance?”
“Meditation is one of the most beneficial training practices of an aspiring Seeker,” Garin said. “In a single exercise, we can learn of Stillness, Resistance, and Acceptance. Even Movement might be experienced when one becomes skilled enough to project sword sequences and forms in the mind.”
From what I understood, there would be a lot of sitting still before any of us got to use a blade, which in my view was unfortunate.
“As one learns to connect to the Xenofold, it is then that Gifts begin to manifest. There are Twelve Gifts – natural aptitudes that come as a result of inborn ability. But that ability cannot be tapped until one hones the Four Disciplines. Gifts are rare in their own right, and most Seekers have the potential to develop only one to its fullest extent, or perhaps two. One’s gifts strongly influence the Sect for which an apprentice trains. Some, such as Battletrance, Prophecy, and Visions...are exceedingly rare.”
“Battletrance?” Samal asked.
“It is a deep, meditative form whereby the Xenofold guides a Seeker’s movements in battle, and it only comes as a result of intense practice and development of the Disciplines.” Garin paused. “Some Gifts, such as Dragonspeech or Insight, can come without any form of training.” I wanted to ask what Insight was, but Garin moved on swiftly with the lesson. “Now, we will try a different exercise. Close your eyes once again, until your mind is clear, a black plane on which to project your thoughts...”
Seeker Garin’s voice had become a drone. I peered into the darkness of my mind’s eye, even as I was aware of the outside world. In time, I relaxed, but it wasn’t long before I became bored again.
“Boredom,” Garin said, surprising me, “is a form of Resistance. There is nothing wrong with Resistance in and of itself, but shift that boredom into Acceptance. This is what we call transmutation, the transformation of energy of one discipline to the next. The true power of a Seeker lies not in his or her ability to master one of the Disciplines to its fullest extent, but rather to shift seamlessly from one Discipline into another with little loss of energy.”
I resigned myself to the fact that I was going to be sitting here for a long while, and as soon as I accepted that, finding Stillness became easier.
“The physical and the emotional are mirrors,” Garin said, after a few minutes. “Perhaps you have experienced the way Stillness elucidates Resistance: physical illuminating spiritual.”
The silence stretched. I couldn’t tell how long we had sat there, but I was a bit startled when Garin’s voice came again.
“Open your eyes.”
Everyone opened their eyes, blinking a few times. Samal looked dazed, as if he hadn’t sat still for an hour in his entire life. Neither had I, for that matter.
“That concludes today’s lesson. I know it is difficult to find time for meditation. Ironically, that is one of the reasons the Seekers built the Sanctum so far away. Over the years, we have quickly found ways of occupying our time.”
The bell atop the Sanctum tolled three times, signaling an end to our lesson.
“Go to the library and speak to Seeker Haris,” Seeker Garin said. “He is of the Scholars, and will explain the rudiments of his Sect.”
***
The library was brighter than when Isa showed it to me this morning. Light spilled in through the stained glass windows rising high along the eastern wall, also pouring in through windows just below the dome, the rays illuminating the mural of the people under the tree.
At this hour, only a couple of scriveners were hastily scrawling on parchment. We made our way to the center, taking up seats to wait for Seeker Haris. Both scriveners looked up from their work, blinking and bleary-eyed. It
was as if they were already tired, even if it was still morning.
One of the apprentices caught my attention, pointing across the library to an open office door.
“Speak with Aelor, in there,” he said. “You don’t want to be caught idle.”
We got up and walked past the tables toward the office. When we arrived, I knocked to let Aelor know we were coming in.
“Hello?” a male voice called. “Who’s there?”
I walked inside the cramped office to see an elderly man with wild, white hair, writing feverishly behind his cluttered desk. He was thin and frail, and his age could have been anywhere from seventy to eighty-five.
Though we had been standing there only a moment, he looked up and beamed a wild smile that was missing several teeth. “New initiates! Welcome!” He hastily stood, bumping his knee into the desk. “Ow!”
“Seeker Aelor, are you okay?” I asked.
He held his knee, and after a moment, gave a short nod. “Yes, quite alright.” He looked at us all seriously. “And it’s not Seeker. It’s apprentice.”
I looked at him for a moment, not sure if he was joking. After an awkward pause, it was clear he wasn’t.
“Er...sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know. I thought for certain you would be, given your...well, never mind.”
“I know, I know,” he said. “I’m an old man. But my blood is too weak to be a Seeker. No potential to connect to the Xenofold whatsoever.” He shrugged. “They made a mistake in recruiting me, but somehow I convinced them to keep me on. Don’t feel too bad for me, now. I’m quite happy here, thank you.”
“Apprentice Aelor,” Isaru said, “would you know where Seeker Haris is? He’s supposed to teach us today.”
Aelor frowned. “Seeker Haris?” He shuddered. “I don’t know where he is, but...”
At that moment, a man at least half Aelor’s age swept into the room. The wide planes of his face were firm, and his dark brown eyes disapproving. “I am Seeker Haris.”
