But this…it was like being awake for the first time, and the rest of his life prior had been just a dream. Nothing had changed, and yet everything had. And it wasn’t even his heightened senses, or the new power surging through his veins—it was his very being. Instantly, he was a different person.
He couldn’t explain it, even to himself. But suddenly, he had no taste for child’s play. Where once he would have ran to the meadow and joined in a game of tag, he now wondered how the pain he felt from his neighbors could be eased. He learned about the fragility of life instantly, as he felt the tree in front of him gasping its last arduous breaths. No one would notice that it had died until it had long withered and decayed.
He felt a change in the air. There was a definitive truth to things. He understood this immediately. He understood that there were answers to everything, if only he had the courage and the desire to seek them out. It was all so clear to him. As sharp and crisp as the wind.
While most Sages would use their newfound clarity in the past for violence, he understood that the eidolon, and the power of a Sage, had to be more than that. Yes, there was truth to the fact that if one sliced off someone’s limb, that limb was severed, but that was such a superficial way of looking at things. Who was more powerful and influential to the outcome of matters? The soldier, or the arms dealer? He realized that a Sage had the power to change the world.
Bastion sheathed his eidolon, for he didn’t want his soul to be outside his body for too long. Not on its first outing. But he certainly had plenty to think about.
Like the fact that James, the great and powerful, was neither of those two adjectives. He understood that the kingdom was far more fragile than he could ever imagined, and in some ways, it was worse off than ever before. At least in the Stone Era, fear bred paranoia, and paranoia sometimes brought preparation and caution. None of those things existed now. Just blind faith.
Still, he was in no condition to make a move. More than ever he understood how weak the balance was in matters. Queen Catherine’s way may have seemed foolish, but force did too. He was still young, he decided. He barely even had an opinion on how the kingdoms should operate. But with his new Sage abilities, he would learn in time.
He forced himself to observe rather than act, and this was just one of the reasons he refused to reveal his eidolon to his mother. Because observation brought far more knowledge to his forefront than action. It was only after extensive study of his mother, and why she attacked him so vehemently, that he figured out the best course of action.
He didn’t want her to know how much power he had, just in case she decided to exploit it. He didn’t want to maim or kill her by accident if they were sparring either, yet he had to figure out a way to get her to stop. Standing still, and letting her destroy her own eidolon against his—it not only knocked her unconscious and gave him room to escape, but it also made her believe that she was weak.
It was a common belief that if an eidolon broke, the fault was usually attributed to the bearer—that they were weak willed. By having her break her own eidolon, it forced her focus back upon herself. She would spend the next year or so improving her will and her resolve, instead of concentrating all her efforts on him. She hadn’t seen enough of his power to properly evaluate his strength, but it was enough to get her to stop and think twice before she tried to hurt him again. By the time she realized the truth, he would already be well into the Sage Academy or off on away missions. A truth that he had known since the awakening of his eidolon.
She wasn’t weak.
He was just that strong.
Chapter 4 – Reenactment
“Are you sure you need to go alone?” Catherine asked him, as he threw the cloak around his shoulders. She was standing by a window, staring up at the stars as James finished getting dressed for the mission in their massive bedchamber. A fire was crackling a few yards away and their bed was neatly pressed and kempt, as much of their belongings were. Sadly, their bedchamber had become more of a way station than a place of comfort and rest.
James stole a glance at his wife as he fastened the clasp on his cloak. As she moved her head in front of the window, searching for a better view of the stars, her curly locks would bounce in place. He didn’t know why watching them made him smile, but they always did. He really loved everything about her, down to the very last strand of hair. He hoped he wouldn’t be away too long this time.
“It’s not that far to the Quietus forest,” he grunted, putting on a boot that was smaller than his foot needed. “Especially if I run at full sprint. I could get there and be back in time before dinner tomorrow night.”
“I’m not worried about you being alone,” she said, turning to face him. “It’s the fact that there’s a killer out there.”
“There’s no way I’m going to get murdered,” James scoffed, wiping his hands on his shirt. He hadn’t washed his cloak in quite some time. It was long overdue.
“You could be taken by surprise.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“I asked Arimus to go with you.”
“Well, then I’m still going alone. There’s no way he’s going to take time away from Lady Ashalynn.”
“He’s already agreed. I asked very nicely, and you keep on forgetting that he is my father.”
“Still kind of weirded out by that,” James chuckled, walking up to his wife. He took her face in the palm of his hands and locked his eyes with hers. “I don’t want you to worry about anything. It’s probably nothing.”
“You hope that it’s not,” she said. He gave her a quick peck on the lips and then let her go. She took a step backwards and leaned up against the wall by the window. “You’re restless. I can see it grow within you with each passing day.”
“It’s just fighting against what I was, that’s all,” James replied, casting his eyes to the corner. “I don’t want to pretend as if I can’t fall back into old habits. When I learned about the Sages, I suddenly had a goal to work toward. Once I achieved it, there was more to keep me going. I met you. I was accepted by the others. The mission we went on was horrible and scarring, but it was also exhilarating and adventurous. I love the peace that we have, but I would be lying if I said that the old James, that slacker James…doesn’t rear his ugly head up once and a while. I don’t want to get too relaxed.”
“I could send you on more missions.”
“But then I would be away from you,” he replied, walking forward, and taking her hands into his. The warmth coming from them made his body go numb. She still overwhelmed him—with a simple touch. Visions of holding her tight through the night threatened to break his duty. He shook his head slightly and took a deep breath.
“Well,” she said. “The Academy will be open soon, and you’re the headmaster. So try to get back quickly. They need you.”
“I will,” he promised. He bent down and gave her a tender kiss upon the backs of each of her hands, but then she ripped them from his grasp and leapt onto him. Throwing her arms around his neck, she kissed him so hard and so urgently that it scared him. Suddenly, he was beginning to wonder if the mission before him really would be simple, and if he really would be back in Catherine’s embrace so soon. He could not drop his guard. It didn’t matter if every mission in the last five years had gotten easier in succession. It didn’t mean that it would always be that way.
When their kiss was over, he didn’t say another word. He just left, choosing to let their last exchange give him further strength and expediency. With his mind only on her, he would move a lot quicker. Also, he wanted time to mentally prepare for his upcoming role as headmaster. It was lot of responsibility, and he had no idea what his actions would have on the incoming students.
What could he teach them that they hadn’t learned already? He couldn’t exactly go off of his time in the Sentinel Academy. He couldn’t teach them to release their eidolons when they already knew how. That was one of the prerequisites to being accepted into the Sage Academy, after all. He coul
dn’t simulate the Infantry exam for it would be far too easy for just one Sage, let alone a team. There were no villains to fight. No conflict to discuss. Nothing to prepare for. Deep down, he was afraid of looking like a joke, and an Academy that was supposed to be professional and prestigious, would just end up being all about play.
He had been thrown in the fire. Any and all of his strength and techniques had been born out of necessity, and they were no longer a secret. Even manifestation, the technique that Chloe had revealed to him—was documented in detail within the history books. So what else did he have to offer besides sparring practice?
James stretched once he exited the throne room, listening to the musical number played by the insects on the meadow’s edge. He unsheathed his eidolon just a little, the tip extending out from his left palm. He sensed that no one was watching.
Wait…there was one…
James swung his head behind him, and a slow clap greeted him from the shadows, right from behind one of the throne room pillars. Arimus emerged, a wool cloak over his massive shoulders. His light blue eyes were vibrant, which was a far cry from the steel gaze he donned when they had first met. James immediately felt a sense of comfort, knowing that he would be joining in the expedition. The grey bearded man had been his first mentor, teacher, and friend. Father-in-law was just another welcome endearment.
“At least your senses have not grown dull in times of peace.”
“But apparently your stealth has,” James chuckled, crossing his arms. “I might have to tell you to go back to bed and forget this mission. You’ll hold me back.”
“I would welcome the bed and my love with open arms,” he said with a warm smile.
“You and me both.”
“So what are two married men like ourselves doing out in the dead of night?”
“Catherine didn’t tell you?”
“She told me plenty. But I want to hear it from you. What are your thoughts, Master Sage?”
“It’s likely a misunderstanding. But who knows? Some Quietus might have survived. It would be suspicious that they remained hidden for this long though, avoiding detection.”
“I suppose it would depend on their numbers,” Arimus replied, reaching his hand out into the air to catch a falling leaf. “If there are only a few of them, they would be quite cautious.”
“Regardless, this should go smoothly. Considering what we’ve learned.”
“And what would that be, James?”
“We’ve gotten stronger. We know how to transform. A few Quietus, even elite, won’t cause much harm.”
“I would agree with you,” Arimus said mischievously, “but I seem to recall a Princess and her seven inexperienced Sages, bringing a number of Kingdoms to their knees.”
* * *
Bastion hadn’t planned on sleeping on the roof, but the next thing he knew, a loud hammering noise woke him from his slumber. He blinked rapidly as the sun’s rays pierced his retinas. He turned over and lifted his t-shirt over his head to provide some shade to his face. It felt like it had been baking for quite some time.
I wonder, he thought, as he began to concentrate on the Quietus traits within them all—the power of healing and regeneration. Sunburn wasn’t exactly a wound, but the last thing he wanted was to be peeling on his first day at the Academy. He made a mental note to perform his reading elsewhere for the remaining two nights.
It only took ten seconds for his face to lose its unnatural warmth, and then just a few seconds more for the discomfort to leave altogether. He wondered how many other Sages would have thought of such a practical use of their abilities, but he quickly dismissed the thought. The last thing he wanted was to start thinking he was better than the others. It didn’t matter how strong he was. It didn’t matter what solutions he could see. If he turned into a pompous, egotistical braggart, no one would listen to him. What was the point of having a solution to a problem if your voice was silent because of a bad reputation?
He stood to his feet and listened to the bustle of the village for a moment. The low murmur of the collective. He wouldn’t be able to get much reading done there. He thought about taking his chances in the meadow, but other potential Sages often went there to train. It wouldn’t be tranquil there either. But…at least he would able to see some techniques being performed. Though he had a great deal of raw and intense energy at his disposal, he certainly didn’t have finesse.
He put his book under his arm and began sprinting across the rooftops. He could have released a bit of his eidolon and become a lot faster, but there was no guarantee that he would always be able to release it. He wanted to prepare for all scenarios. If Thorn had been able to create an ether that could trap souls, dragons, whole armies, and exploding creatures, then blocking a Sage from releasing their soul might not be impossible. Master Dominic, for example, had a technique called Lock. That technique made the blade or eidolon of his opponent heavier. How was it possible to make someone else’s soul heavier? It was interesting stuff.
Bastion started getting tired and he began to pant, but he fought through the ache, willing himself to sprint longer. Once he reached the end of the large square, he jumped off the final roof and into the dirt, startling a great deal of shoppers and Langoran Order members. He said sorry quickly and kept running.
Those were some other groups he wasn’t sure about. The Orders. While the Sages were all about strength and settling matters with force, the Orders changed lives through speech. He admired their tenacity and conviction, but they considered themselves above the people, as if they had tapped into some hidden knowledge that no one else had access to. It was strange to see such self-proclaimed intelligent men falling to such base vices such as wrath, pride, and greed. It was funny. The “common folk” who were well engrossed in satisfying their appetites, fell to deception, trickery and lofty words, while the “leaders” fell too deep when they dabbled in pleasure and self-gratification. Still, Bastion had to admit, even though he saw the problems, once again, he had no solutions. At least not yet.
Bastion hit the meadow’s edge like a hero arriving late to the battle. He was running faster than when he started, having caught his second wind. But he also knew that he didn’t want to draw attention to himself, so he quickly came to a halt, his toes skidding beyond the surface of the grass and into the soil beneath. Before he could draw any more attention to himself, he plopped down backwards into the grass. Lying on his back, he yawned and put his arms behind his head. It was so peaceful. In fact, there were far less people practicing in the meadow than he thought there would be. Perhaps it was because it was still morning. People were either eating, or getting their chores and duties out of the way. Bastion would forego hunger until the tide died down. Then he would go back into the village, and eat in peace.
He was just about to open his book when a clash of swords reverberated throughout the air, so loud that it snapped his eyes open instinctively. There were six kids about ten yards away from him, and two of them had playfully slammed their eidolons against one another’s. The two Allayan boys laughed heartily and slapped each other on the back as they sheathed their blades. Bastion shook his head, but he didn’t avert his eyes from the scene.
There were two Allayan boys, one Allayan girl, and three Langoran boys. From the general vibes emanating off the group, he could tell that the girl wasn’t having that much fun. He was surprised she was even there in the first place. Most of the Sages kept to their own genders when it came to practice. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe the boys just wanted to play around more. He strained his ears to focus on what they were saying.
“That’s what we’re going to do, Daisy,” one of the Langorans said to the Allayan girl. Daisy huffed and crossed her arms. The Langoran leader (at least that is what Bastion assumed based on the authoritative voice), crossed his arms in kind. “The rest of us want to. You’re the only one who doesn’t.”
“That would be fine,” Daisy retorted. “If we stuck to the plan. You know, where we agreed t
hat everyone gets a turn! I haven’t had a turn since chivalry was back in style.”
“I never know what she’s saying,” the Langoran leader said, turning to the group. “Do we have a translator here?”
“She’s saying that we should do what she wants to do, Fern,” an Allayan boy replied. Fern turned back to Daisy and gave her the fakest smile in existence.
“We don’t want to use our eidolons to smell the flowers,” he said, blinking rapidly.
“You didn’t even ask me what I wanted to do,” Daisy replied, sticking her face into his, their noses practically touching. “Besides, smelling flowers wouldn’t work. Your body odor would overpower the sweet scent.” She turned to spit into the grass. The boys grimaced at the sight.
“Did she just say something about Langorans?” he asked, pretending like he was hurt. “Did she just insult our entire people?”
“Oh, now you hear me!” Daisy cried out, throwing up her hands. “I’ve been saying that about you for the past week!”
“Hey now, calm down,” one of the Allayan boys stepped between them. “No need to get nasty.”
“Truth is nasty,” Daisy said, her thick accent permeating the air. Bastion couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. He didn’t know who she was, but she was fascinating. Everything she did, from her throaty voice to her body language was heavily accented. Even the way she spit—it wasn’t quick or to the point. She had spit the saliva into the grass like it was at the end of a sneeze. It was forceful and demanded attention.
“You can either play our game, or leave. Your choice,” Fern said. “You’re lucky I’m even letting your remarks go.”
Of Heroes And Villains (Book 4) Page 4
