“I see you’ve already had breakfast,” Arimus mused, his massive body shaking under his cloak. James chuckled in spite of himself, then he took a gaze up at the sun. It would be afternoon soon. “Are you sure we’re near the Quietus forest?” Arimus asked, as James scanned the area. The forest around them had no distinctive markers, but he had gone searching for the Quietus so often—he knew the area just as much as Allay.
“How could I forget?” James said as he stretched his legs out.
“It was many years ago. Without the meadow as a marker, it makes it harder to get through the wasteland.”
“I’ve been here enough,” James said. Arimus didn’t pry any further. He knew that James had spent the equivalent of months searching for his mother, but no trace of her had been found.
“Thank you for stopping for me,” Arimus said.
“No problem,” James said. “You know, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing for us to spar against one another once in a while. It will keep you in better shape.”
“I’m past that time in my life. I would rather relinquish the duties to you. A lot less stressful. Honestly, I think this is the first time since Thorn that I have been out of Ashalynn’s company for more than an hour.”
“So you wouldn’t consider being the headmaster at the Academy?” There was a hint of hope in his voice that Arimus picked up on immediately.
“Why don’t you tell me what’s really wrong. Then we can get moving.”
“I don’t know what to do,” James admitted, shrugging his shoulders. He began pacing in front of his mentor, as he stared at the dirt at his feet. “I have no clue what to teach, or what to even say to them. They have eidolons, so what’s the next step? They already spar in the meadows and the forests. What do I have to offer?”
“You have what they lack: experience. And we should be grateful that they fall short in that area. They can become Sages naturally, and at their own pace. No one has to be born out of necessity. I wonder how many more we would have had with us on our quest if the terror of the unknown had not gripped so many.”
“It still doesn’t solve my dilemma though,” James sighed. “What do I do? Just have fun with them? When I think about it…I realize that I know nothing about what makes someone a Sage. We’re all the same. The stones that gave us our abilities were all the same. There is no difference between the Allayan and any other people. Every single person in Allay, right now, could work toward bringing forth an eidolon if they wanted to. The only thing that holds them back are the Orders and the memories of their past. I don’t even know why we are referred to as Sages anymore. The Langorans and the Prattlians aren’t called anything different when they transform or use their abilities. Why are we?”
“You are right,” Arimus said, nodding his head slightly. “There is no difference in that sense. But a weapon in one’s hand does not make them a soldier. A crown does not make a girl a Queen, or a boy a King. It is the actions that you take that determine your character. Not your composition. Not your heritage. It is your actions alone. A Sage is said to be a profoundly wise person. That is the very definition of the word. That means whomever becomes a Sage must have more than just the ability to wield an eidolon, which only indicates a basic understanding of thei soul’s properties.”
“Then I am not a Sage,” James said, facing his mentor head on. “Because all I know how to do is wield an eidolon.”
“You’ve done far more than—“
“—Think about it. I have an eidolon. I can transform into a Quietus, but that’s not because of something I necessarily learned. It’s because of my genetics. I can manifest, but so can everyone else if they put in the time. How am I any different than the students I will be teaching in a couple of days?”
“Would you consider me a Sage?” Arimus asked politely. James examined his mentor quickly, and then he closed his eyes.
“I would,” he replied. “But I don’t even know what I’m talking about. I didn’t become wiser just because I called forth an eidolon.”
“Then tell me, what do you think makes someone a Sage? At what point does someone embody the title? Is it something you earn, like becoming the general of an army? Or does it transform you? Isn’t Catherine a Queen? Doesn’t she embody the role?”
“I don’t know,” James sighed. “All I know…is that on opening day, I’m going to be saying a lot of stuff…that I don’t necessarily believe or understand.”
“Then say something that you do believe,” Arimus said, placing a hand on his pupil’s shoulder. “Speak from your heart. Inspire them to strive for higher. Who knows? They may even teach you.”
“Is that what happened?” James smiled. “Did we teach you something?”
“More than you know, my friend. And that is often how it is. Teachers have been conditioned and taught what to say, but the students themselves are a clean slate. Your job is to guide, not tell. Like coaxing the eidolon from the depths of your being, you are coaxing their potential and talent, asking it to rise from the surface, and transform the very world in which we live.”
* * *
Bastion clutched his face as he went flying into the grass, kicking up a number of insects and a great deal of soil in his wake. As he skidded to a stop, he could hear the cry of Mason from above. Instinctively, he rolled out of the way as a foot stomped down where his leg had been. The kick to his face hadn’t hurt, but that didn’t mean he was enjoying the sensation.
He was just about to start climbing to his feet when Michael came from behind, pushing him forward and onto his belly. The boys began kicking him in the ribs and the legs, each blow given more force than the last.
He couldn’t deny it. He was enjoying himself.
Sure he was at the receiving end of a beat down, but at least he was interacting with other kids. It was a little insulting that both Michael and Mason were focusing on him while the other three Langorans were all on Daisy, but at least they didn’t just hit him once and then leave. That would have been the worst. To think that one blow could keep him down. He wasn’t Zif. Speaking of…
Bastion lifted his head from the grass to check out the area. Sure enough, Zif was already sprawled out on his back, taking heavy and deep breaths.
A foot slammed down on the back of his head. Bastion’s face smashed into the soil, and he didn’t like that too much. Hadn’t Kent said there was to be no aiming at the head? That’s right. He had said for there to be no blades aimed there.
Still, the fact that he was now tasting grains of dirt and blades of grass irked him. Bastion reached behind him and grabbed an ankle, of whose, he would soon find out. With all the strength he could muster, he yanked on it, sending the boy flying to the ground. It was Michael.
Mason ran over to help his friend to his feet. Big mistake.
Bastion rolled onto his back and then jumped up to his feet, just as Michael was pulled to his by his partner. He looked to the boys back and forth, when a smile crept upon his face.
This was so much fun!
Michael ran at him first, but Bastion had already made a move. Before Michael’s foot even hit the ground, Bastion was in mid-air, slamming a flying fist straight into the boy’s nose. A loud popping sound caused him to back off. Thankfully, as soon as Michael’s butt hit the ground, he started yelling and clutching his nose. It was bleeding, but at least he wasn’t dead.
Mason took out his eidolon and swung right at Bastion’s face. Bastion took a step back to narrowly dodge the bulk of the blade. He could feel the edge just barely nick the middle of his nose. Before Mason could recover from the swing, Bastion reached out and grabbed the blade’s surface with both hands, keeping the edge between his palms.
With little effort, he squeezed and pulled. A crack appeared down the middle of the sword, and Mason’s face went white with horror. He stopped struggling and just stood there. Completely still. Bastion didn’t proceed any further. His mother might have been able to withstand the shock of having her eidolon broken, but he wasn
’t so sure about the Sage novice. Though it was now common knowledge that you could survive a destroyed eidolon, it was all based upon the will of the victim. If Mason’s wasn’t very strong, as Bastion suspected, then he would be in real trouble.
He let go of the sword, and Mason sheathed it back into his body. With the eidolon safely tucked away, he scowled at Bastion, trying to decide whether to fear him or punch him in the face.
“Okay, okay, one more round and that’s it,” he heard Kent groan from behind Mason. Bastion’s focus went beyond the Allayan boy and to the others, coming back from their battle. Based on Fern’s normal size, Kent’s cuts, and Zif still on his back, he assumed that Daisy had won.
“Hey, you two aren’t finished yet?” Daisy asked him and Mason. Mason sneered at him and then turned to his teammate.
“We are,” he said. “It’s just you and this kid left.”
“I’m probably older than you,” Bastion retorted, but Mason ignored him.
“So I guess it’s just you versus me, huh?” Daisy said with a warm smile. “The final battle.”
“No, you won,” Bastion chuckled. He really didn’t want to hurt Daisy. “The Sages are victorious. I got beat up pretty bad. I barely won.”
“Yeah, right,” Mason spat, waving a hand toward Michael so everyone could take a look at him. “Look what he did to Michael’s nose. This kid was just playing with us. I would be shocked if he even has a scratch on him.” Bastion winced as the group began looking for one on his body.
“How’d he do it?” Fern asked. “Eidolon?”
“Just strength and speed,” Mason snapped, still angry over the scuffle. “He broke Michael’s face and he nearly broke my eidolon with his bare hands!”
“Damn!” Fern laughed. “I’ve heard of one eidolon being stronger than another, but bare hands?” He slapped Mason on the back playfully, but Mason wasn’t in the mood. He shrugged off the gesture and stuck a finger in Bastion’s face.
“What are you?” he spat. Bastion wiped the spittle from his cheek.
“He’s probably just a Langoran,” Fern replied. “Simple explanation.”
“Seriously,” Daisy laughed. “You don’t have to act like he’s a disease.”
“So which is it?” Michael said with a nasally voice. Everyone waited patiently for the answer, but Bastion wasn’t sure what to say. He just stared at each of them, one by one.
“Whatever he is, he’s good enough to join the Academy,” Kent said, nodding toward the tome sitting in the grass. From where they stood, the sunlight was shining off of the exquisite emerald cover. “So we’ll find out eventually.”
“No,” Mason said. “Now.”
“What does it matter?” Daisy asked, stepping between him and Bastion.
“I need to know,” was his only reply. He balled up a fist, and Daisy noticed it right away.
“Okay,” she said with a slight smile. Her eyes remained steady on his. “He’s an Allayan.”
“Then I want to see his eidolon. I want to see how strong he is.”
“He’s a Langoran then.”
“I want him to prove it.”
“I don’t understand what the problem is,” Bastion spoke up. Mason turned his attention to him. “You’ll know in a couple days. And since you’re so angry about it, that’s even less of a reason for me to show you anything. If you get intimidated, the last thing I need is for you to try beating me up when I’m not looking—just to one up me.”
“No need to hide,” he snapped. “I’m not intimidated! I can take you head on.”
“No. You can’t,” Bastion said with assurance. “And it’s safer for you not to know what I can do. I don’t want to take any chances with hurting you too badly.”
“I like him,” Fern decided. Daisy and Kent just laughed, but the rest weren’t that amused.
“You talk big, but it won’t stay that way. Wait until we get to the Academy. You have no idea what’s in store for you.”
“I doubt it,” Bastion replied, and Mason made an attempt to hit him. Daisy caught the fist.
“Mason, you’re as pathetic as a grown man with the common cold. Give it a rest.”
“You think you can protect him?” Mason scoffed. “Are you serious?”
“Just let this go,” she pleaded with him. “It’s getting old.”
“Get out of my way, or you’ll become a problem too.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she said sweetly. Mason took a deep breath and glared at her. From the middle of his palm, the tip of his eidolon began to emerge, but Daisy was fully aware. She unsheathed her eidolon faster than anyone could blink and pressed it against Mason’s throat.
“BACK OFF!” she screamed in his face. The tip of his blade slid back in.
“Why are you defending this kid?” he asked, his voice trembling. “We’ve been friends for so long.”
“Number one, you know that’s not true,” Daisy whispered. “And number two, I don’t care for you very much. You know you’re only here because of who your father is.”
“Hey, Daisy,” Kent began. “Come on. That’s going too far.” Kent ran a hand through his only red patch of hair, taking up a corner on the back of his head. “You didn’t have to say that.”
“We all know it’s true!” she shouted. “When are we going to stop walking on ice around this guy? Why do we even have him around? Are any of you really friends with him?”
“I am,” Michael muttered from behind.
“Shut up, Mike!” Daisy shouted back.
“What are you saying?” Mason said to her. “You’re only friends with me because you’re afraid of what will happen if you turn me down? Is that all our friendship is?”
“No, it’s…” her eyes began to water, but then she gained her composure and pressed the blade in further. “Don’t try to play off my kind heart, you snake!”
“Geez,” Kent said, shaking his head. “Can someone go get an adult please?” Michael groaned as he climbed to his feet. He waved to them, signifying that he was the one to do it. He began walking off as Daisy began sweating.
“Hey! We don’t need an adult to sort this out,” she called out to Michael, but he ignored her and kept walking.
“I’ll know what he is by the end of the day,” Mason said coolly, leaning slightly forward, letting Daisy’s blade pierce through his first couple layers of skin. “There are no secrets here. You call it bullying. I call it full disclosure. He hurt Michael bad. With enough strength behind that hit, he could have killed him. So yeah, I think we should know what he is. So we’ll know how to best approach him in the future. What does he have to hide? What dignity will be lost? We’re all exposed.”
“No, we’re not,” Daisy said through grit teeth. “Not all of us. I wish we all were.”
“Get off me,” he whispered to her. Daisy’s eyes wavered as he waited. Fern and the others watched silently as she gently took the eidolon away from his neck. He reached out and rubbed it. Daisy let her eidolon disintegrate at will. “Thank you,” he said. “Now, I’m going to get out of here. Same time tomorrow, guys? We have to stand out from the crowd on opening day, you know.”
They all nodded reluctantly. All except Bastion, who kept a hard stare on the Allayan.
“Not you though,” Mason said, pointing a finger in Bastion’s face. “You can stay home.”
“I can go wherever I like,” he replied. Mason’s face never wavered.
“Fine,” he said. “Every warrior needs a training dummy.”
“That we do,” Bastion said. He felt horrible the moment he said it, but Mason just nodded and turned to leave. Bastion turned his gaze to the rest of the group. All of them had their heads down or in the skies, thinking about what had just happened, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty for demolishing their fun. Even holding back, I failed, he thought bitterly. I still ruined things.
Bastion hung his head low, in sync with the others, but then a glint of steel flashed from the corner of his eye. He lo
oked up, and saw that the edge of Mason’s eidolon was heading straight for the back of Daisy’s turning head. He had no time to think, no time to assess whether it was a scare tactic or not.
He released his eidolon, and met Mason’s head on. Bastion’s clear, ocean blue sword was fashioned like a Gladius, the blade of a gladiator. Their swords clashed, and Bastion’s was clearly the victor. Mason’s jaw dropped as he saw pieces of his soul shatter to the ground before him, falling like the glass of a broken mirror. In vain, he attempted to catch one, but it fell through his fingers. Instead the motion only propelled him forward even further, as his body, and his consciousness, suddenly gave out. He fell face first into the dirt, and he didn’t get back up.
No one moved, not even Bastion. They were unsure if the boy before them was dead or not, and if he was—what that would mean. Bastion’s eidolon shimmered away as he fell to his knees by Mason’s side. He didn’t know what to do.
With his eyes wet with fear, a pair of hands suddenly grabbed him from behind. Big, strong hands. They forced him down into the grass, and he didn’t fight them. He laid there, face to face with what he had done. Mason’s eyes were wide open, and soulless. Bastion’s throat closed up, and he closed his eyes. Whatever punishment came next, he would accept. He would face his consequences. He knew that he was a monster through and through, and he should have stayed where all monsters belonged: in the dark.
Chapter 6 – Search
“Caution or exposure?” Arimus asked. James took a deep breath and examined the forest before them. Having walked through the wasteland, they had finally reached their destination. It was strange how the Quietus forest thrived in their masters’ absence. But then again, the trees didn’t seem very alive to begin with. Coated in a dark purple, and twisting into odd shapes of all sizes and widths, the trees created an area more akin to a network of nerves and synapses than a forest. The branches intertwined and only grew tighter and more clustered the closer one got to the canopy. Down below was the only place one could walk, but even then, it was cramped and dark. If there were eyes watching the two Sages, it would be difficult for Arimus and James to catch them.
Of Heroes And Villains (Book 4) Page 6
