Gilai’el turned and saw that nearly all of the other Students had reached groups with whom they shared a common aura. There was one Student remaining without a group. He was a boy with long, brown hair whose badge glowed a yellowish color which Gilai’el could not immediately identify. He fell to the ground, clutching his chest, but he did not remove the badge.
Gilai’el looked around desperately to find a Student with a badge of a similar color to the boy’s, but she could not. She watched in horror as the boy’s body did precisely as Prefect Tamlen had warned: it burst into flames the color of his brightly glowing badge, evoking a terrible, bloodcurdling scream from the young man as he writhed on the ground.
One of the nearby Students leapt to his aid and was immediately enveloped in the same flames which were consuming the boy.
The Prefect stepped forward and, with a wave of his hand, banished the fires from the first boy while allowing the second to scream in agony for what seemed to Gilai’el to be an eternity before dousing the scorching heat.
It was only then that Gilai’el noticed Prefect Tamlen was also wearing a badge similar to the ones the Students wore, and it was glowing with a dark, yellow aura.
The red-eyed Prefect snapped his fingers, and a panel of the corridor’s wall opened inward. The raven-haired girl had failed to notice the cleverly concealed portal until that moment and from the portal emerged a quartet of the same obsidian-skinned warriors as those who had escorted her and the other House Listoh Students to the Great Tower.
The black-skinned warriors wordlessly gathered the still-screaming Students in their arms and returned through the portal, which closed behind them with a low, grinding sound.
Tamlen turned to the remaining Students with a hard look as his gaze swept across them. “What was the first Student’s mistake?” he asked as though in lecture.
There was a deathly silence as the assembled teenagers considered their Prefect’s question.
Gilai’el finally understood the point of the lesson, and she raised her hand, as she had been taught to do when in class.
“Power does not come to those who ask for it,” snapped Tamlen, his eyes flaring as he turned toward her. “If you would speak, then do so!”
Determined to appear unfazed by the old man’s visual effects, Gilai’el stepped forward, and the surrounding Students parted as she did so. When she was finally standing before the Prefect, she stuck her chin out.
“You instructed us to find the occupants of the hall whose badge auras resembled our own,” she repeated, then she raised a finger and pointed at his chest. “You did not say that only Students would wear the badges.”
The Prefect’s eyes narrowed as he nodded slowly. “You are intelligent,” he said with a hint of appreciation buried in the scorn dripping from his voice. Tamlen turned his gaze to the other Students before continuing, “The act of communication, as young Gilai’el has illustrated, bears two facets as you are now well aware: transmission and reception. This is your second lesson for today: all communication must be correctly interpreted for it to be useful, which necessitates a thorough understanding of the intended recipient of your transmission. You must determine their ability to decipher your meaning, or you are not communicating.”
A young man stepped forward with his chest thrust out defiantly. Gilai’el guessed he knew one or both of the boys who had been carried away by the strange guards.
“As the Prefect and teacher of these lessons, it is your responsibility,” he pointed an accusing finger at the old man, “to understand how best to communicate with your students!”
Tamlen silenced him with a slow turn of his head. After the young man cringed slightly under the weight of the old man’s gaze, the Prefect’s lips peeled back in an already familiar sneer.
“That is precisely what I have done, is it not?” he asked challengingly, and the young man lost the short-lived war of wills with the older man, turning his eyes to the floor as he curled his hands into fists at his side.
The Prefect turned to the rest of the ‘class.’ “The two young men who failed to observe the rules of our latest lesson will be returned before the week’s end,” he said dismissively, “but none of the participants in this particular activity are likely to forget the importance of today’s lessons. The third of which was demonstrated by the second young man, which is?” he prompted, sweeping the corridor with his smoldering red eyes.
Gilai’el knew the second lesson too well, as it was clearly directed at the members of House Listoh. She stepped forward slightly and stuck her chin out defiantly as she answered, “Loyalty will merely serve to burn the Students of this College.” It was not a subtle point the Prefect had made, so Gilai’el knew a composed answer was unnecessary.
Tamlen turned back to Gilai’el and nodded appreciatively. “You are indeed an intelligent, young lady,” he said before adding, “and clearly deserving of the splendid appointments to which you have been assigned.”
Gilai’el could feel the raw animosity pulsate from the crowd of bodies behind her, but she knew that this was all part of the Prefect’s system. She would not abandon that which she was in the face of such absurd methods.
“I believe that shall suffice for today’s lessons,” said Tamlen suddenly. “I encourage each of you to return to your chambers, as I believe the two failures have already been removed, and your dormitory is once again ready to receive you. The Custodians have placed several items within your rooms, including basic literature covering Veldyrian’s founding principles — also known as Imperial Doctrine — with which you would do well to familiarize yourselves before tomorrow’s lessons.”
The iron door through which the Students had come just a few minutes earlier swung open automatically, and the Prefect gestured for them to return through it.
The crowd of Students did as he bade, and after the last of them had passed through the portal, the iron door swung closed behind them.
7
Assignments
Gilai’el found a trio of books on the bedside table in her quarters, and she found she did not recognize any of them.
The first was small, and when she opened it, she found its pages to be blank. Flipping to the back cover, she discovered that it was a diary of some sort, presumably for her to use. Having never kept a diary, she set the small journal aside and examined the second tome.
It was larger, approximately the size of most Student books she had studied in House Listoh. The binding was an unfamiliar, blank green leather, but when she flipped to the first page, she was stunned to see that the title was On Systems, by Arch Magos Zinaida ‘Emerald’ Tarivel. It appeared to be a First Edition, and when she read the opening passages with which she was already familiar, she found a few grammatical errors which confirmed her suspicion — but no indication of which edition it was.
The potential messages of having this book placed in front of her were not lost on the young raven-haired girl, but she decided to focus on the third, largest volume.
Its binding was an unfamiliar dark grey material, and the lone symbol on its front was the same ‘V’ emblem of the Imperial Archives.
When she opened it to its first page, she saw its title and author, which chilled her to the bone: The Journey for Enlightenment, by Merton ‘Auris’ Veldyrian.
Gilai’el had to compose herself before reverently flipping through the first few pages until she came to another symbol: a golden eye with a pupil slitted like a snake’s. After a few seconds of examination, she was almost certain that the eye was moving ever so slightly. She did not recognize the symbol itself, and desiring to make as little direct contact with it as possible, she flipped past the disturbing diagram and came to the foreword, which was titled ‘Compliance.’
The words written on the first page were a jumbled mess, and clearly part of some code with which Gilai’el was unfamiliar. There were entirely too many punctuation marks as well, which suggested that she had a long night ahead of her.
Gilai’el
had heard of this book, of which there was rumored to be only one copy, and that copy had supposedly been locked away within Lord Chronicler and Primus Magos of the Imperial City, Merton Veldyrian’s private collection.
It was supposed to contain the Lord Chronicler’s earliest observations on the founding of the Imperial City, and the fundamental principles which would, when adhered to, encourage the greatest expansion of human understanding ever achieved.
How this mythical tome had made its way into her room was a question which burned in her mind, but she was broken from her reverie when a few Students in the hallway began speaking in raised voices. She eyed her roommate Jon warily as she placed the third volume beneath the covers of her bed as she went to the doorway, careful not to take her eye off the red-haired man.
“I have no use of it,” explained a man whose facial features vaguely resembled Gilai’el’s own: black eyebrows with sharp cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes. He was holding a blue-bound book, and the man he was speaking with was apparently the Urkalia boy who had lost three teeth to his fellow Housemate some days earlier.
“A trade, then?” asked the boy with the broken nose, who Gilai’el was certain would have been very attractive were it not for the damage to his face.
“Yes,” replied the black-haired man. “I will trade you this tome written by Arch Magos Vokhec Tyrdren, for yours penned by Arch Magos Gaius Urkalia, as we are already familiar with the contents of our own House’s publications.”
Gilai’el had heard of House Tyrdren often enough when attending discussions on the political landscape of Veldyrian, which was as uninteresting a subject as there could be, as far as Gilai’el was concerned. But she had never met anyone from that House before, owing largely to the growing rivalry between House Listoh and House Tyrdren.
“Done,” agreed the young Urkalia. “Our Houses work closely together outside the Great Tower, and we should follow their example.”
The Tyrdren Student nodded as he offered his crimson-bound book. The Urkalia Student passed him a silver-bound tome of his own, and when the exchange was completed, they returned to their rooms wordlessly.
Within moments dozens of other Students were negotiating their own exchanges, but Gilai’el believed it to be far too obvious. Why would the Prefect encourage them to exchange the volumes assigned to them? But then, why would the Prefect give them books with which they were already familiar?
Narrowing her eyes, Gilai’el returned to her bed, having never taken her eyes off young Jon since leaving her books there. She picked up On Systems and flipped to the first chapter. On the first page alone she counted three grammatical errors, and using a piece of paper and quill stored on the open shelf of her bedside table, she noted them before proceeding to the second page where she found two more errors, one of which was an incorrect word. It was not the type of mistake an Arch Magos of Veldyrian, like Zinaida Tarivel, was likely to make…even in a first draft, let alone a First Edition publication.
Gilai’el had been required to memorize large sections of this particular volume as part of House Listoh’s required curriculum for pre-College Students, and she was beginning to think she understood why her Matron had required the children of House Listoh to memorize so many arcane passages. Her memory had always been excellent, and she was grateful for her strong study habits, which had been developed at the feet of her Instructors.
She noted the incorrect word, along with her recollection of the correct word beside it, before continuing her work of identifying the inconsistencies contained with the volume before her.
The black-haired girl looked up to see her roommate was also scribbling down notes, and she smiled to herself as she realized that the red-haired Jon was more than just a brawny fool. She knew that he would bear a watchful eye, and just before she returned to her work, he glanced over at her and winked when the two made brief eye contact.
The two continued their work deep into the night, with Jon completing his work more quickly than Gilai’el and falling fast asleep halfway through the night.
But Gilai’el needed to be certain she had correctly translated the cleverly hidden message before testing her theory as to what it truly meant. Just before dawn broke, she was satisfied that she had the message exactly translated, and after transferring her completed notes to a fresh sheet, she opened the third, larger book bearing the mark of the Imperial Archives.
She flipped quickly past the malevolent eye and came to the foreword titled ‘Compliance.’ After examining the words and strange sequence of punctuation for a few minutes, she saw that her theory had been correct: the message inconsistencies she had discovered within On Systems were actually a cipher for translating The Journey for Enlightenment! Gilai’el was not certain she had enough time to complete the translation of even the two-page foreword, but she suspected that it was the true assignment which had been placed before her, and she intended to complete it to the best of her ability.
Long after the sun had risen into the sky, she completed the translation and gently blew on the paper to dry it before rolling it tightly and concealing it within the breast of her tunic. Not long after she had done so, she heard Prefect Tamlen’s voice, just as she had the previous day.
“Good morning, Students,” he boomed from the end of the corridor in a clearly amplified voice, “you are to leave the smallest and largest tomes given you, and bring only the mid-sized volume through the door for today’s lessons. You have thirty seconds to comply; failure will result in immediate expulsion.”
Before he had even outlined the time limit, more than half of the Students were in the hallway with the tomes they had been instructed to bring and were sprinting toward the iron door. Prefect Tamlen was standing on the other side with an expectant look on his face.
None of the one hundred eight Students failed to reach the portal before it closed this time, and the Prefect nodded as he cast his eyes about the corridor.
“You are to deposit your books there,” he pointed to the long, shelf-like alcove from where they had retrieved their badges during the previous day’s lesson. When only a few Students did as he had instructed, he boomed, “Now!”
Within no more than ten seconds, each of the one hundred and eight books had been neatly stacked in the recessed shelf, and the crowd once again turned to the Prefect.
Tamlen smiled; a sickly, malevolent expression as he looked out across the assembled class. “I would read your translations,” he prompted, causing nearly half of the Students to groan when they realized they had brought no papers of any kind. However, nearly all of the others stepped forward and produced neatly rolled papers from their pockets.
“Well done,” the Prefect congratulated them. “Those who brought no translations, place your backs to the alcove.”
The Students complied with resignation as they knew they had failed to properly complete the assignment. Fear was clear on their expressions as their eyes snapped back and forth anxiously.
“And those Students who have brought translations for the tomes which you brought with you this morning,” continued Tamlen, “stand with your backs to the opposite wall.”
All of the other Students assumed the position indicated by the Prefect, their chests swollen with pride at having completed the assignment. Even the Urkalia and Tyrdren Students who had been the first to exchange books were among them, with self-satisfied smirks on their faces. They had clearly understood the lesson more completely than those they had tricked into trading away the books they were meant to study.
When the Students were lining the hallway opposite each other, only Gilai’el was left standing in the middle of the wide corridor.
“Why, perhaps I was mistaken in my earlier assessment,” remarked the red-eyed Prefect in a mockingly jovial tone. “Did you fail to complete your assignment, or are you simply incapable of processing my overly simplistic instructions?”
A chorus of snickers erupted from the wall opposite the alcove, but Gilai’el stood her ground. “
I understood your instructions, Prefect,” she retorted quietly, trying to keep the defiance from her voice, “but they did not apply to me.” She produced the rolled up paper from within her tunic, trying to keep the look of triumph from her features.
The Prefect’s dark red eyes snapped down to the paper held within her hand, and when he met her eyes again, she saw some mixture of respect and contempt.
“Well then,” Tamlen said with genuine surprise in his voice, “by all means, present your findings to the class.”
Gilai’el unrolled the paper and was forced to clear her throat before continuing, as she felt the weight of every eye in the corridor locked onto her.
“Compliance, a Foreword to The Journey for Enlightenment, by Merton ‘Auris’ Veldyrian,” she began to a collective gasp, as the majority of the class recognized the title of the priceless work.
Refocusing herself, Gilai’el gritted her teeth and drew a quick breath before continuing, “The works and history of our most sacred and beloved Empire have brought us to a crossroads, of a kind never before—"
“Thank you, Student,” interrupted Prefect Tamlen as he turned to the rest of the class. “Young Gilai’el has become the first Student in thirty-seven years to successfully complete the lesson laid before you,” he grudged before turning pointedly to the Students with their backs to the alcove. “Half of you arrogantly assumed to know the object of the exercise, and carelessly discarded the lone resource which was provided in an effort to help learn the lesson given you.”
“While the other half,” he continued, turning toward the formerly self-assured Students holding their rolled-up translations, “were so confident you knew my true intent that you believed such a simple translation as you now hold in your hand to be the actual goal of last night’s studies.” His lips peeled back revealing his crooked, dark-stained teeth as he added, “Only a fool accepts such an easy victory.”
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