Runic Awakening (The Runic Series Book 1)

by Unknown

  Weird.

  He tried tugging at the magic there, imagined his mind reaching out to grab it and pull it into his brain. He felt the vibration within the diamond shift, felt it move through the air toward the center of his forehead. He felt it inside of him then, humming in his mind's eye, and could almost see it there, pulsing like a tiny blue light in his brain.

  “Open your eyes,” the Dead Man commanded.

  Kyle did so, feeling the magic dissipate. He found himself smiling. The Dead man smiled back.

  “Well done,” he murmured. “Now you know what magic feels when your mind has summoned it. Later, you will learn to summon magic from yourself, as you did with the diamond.”

  “From myself?” Kyle asked. The Dead Man nodded.

  “Yes,” he confirmed. “This diamond can store magic, like other gemstones. You can pull the magic from the diamond to store it within yourself, or even to weave it. But ultimately you must learn to use the magic your own mind generates.”

  “Okay.”

  “But first,” the Dead Man stated, “...close your eyes again.”

  Kyle did so, the diamond still clutched in his right hand. His palm was sweaty despite the coolness of the Arena.

  “Pull magic from the diamond again,” the Dead Man ordered. “And hold it within your mind's eye.”

  Kyle complied, bringing the diamond back up to his forehead. He felt the magic within it, and brought it into himself again. This time it was far easier than the first, and within moments he could feel the power in his mind's eye...could see it pulsating there.

  “Pull the magic to the back of your mind, then return it to the front,” the Dead Man ordered.

  Kyle nodded, concentrating on the tiny light in his mind's eye. He tried pulling it backward, and to his surprise it came easily, creating a thin, glowing thread in his mind's eye going front to back. He pushed it forward then, seeing another blue thread run parallel to the first.

  “Got it,” Kyle stated.

  “Now pull it backward again,” the Dead Man instructed, “...then left, then right, then forward.”

  Kyle obeyed, seeing more blue lines appear in his mind’s eye...threads of magic vibrating slightly there, like strummed guitar strings. As he watched, the threads snapped inward, forming a pulsating knot of light in the center of his mind's eye.

  “Whoa,” Kyle breathed.

  “You feel the knot?” the Dead Man asked.

  “I do.”

  “Throw the knot outward in front of you,” the Dead Man commanded.

  Kyle complied, pushing the knot forward, and it shot outward immediately. There was a sudden flash of white light, so bright that he could see it behind his closed eyelids. He flinched, opening his eyes, but the light was already gone. He looked up, seeing the Dead Man staring down at him, a smile on his lips.

  “What was that?” Kyle asked. The Dead Man put a cold hand on Kyle's shoulder.

  “That,” he answered, “...was weaving.”

  “Wait,” Kyle replied. “...you mean I...?”

  “Yes,” the Dead Man interjected. “You weaved your first pattern...the light pattern.”

  “Cool!” Kyle exclaimed, feeling downright giddy. He'd woven magic!

  “Well done, Kyle,” the Dead Man murmured.

  “That was pretty easy,” Kyle stated. The Dead Man smirked.

  “Yes it is,” he agreed. “In fact, any eight-year-old here can do it.”

  Kyle's smile faded, his pride wilting.

  “You have a lot of catching up to do,” the Dead Man stated, his hand remaining on Kyle's shoulder. “We expect a great deal from you,” he added. Kyle lowered his gaze, unable to match the Dead Man's unblinking stare.

  “Yes sir,” he mumbled.

  The Dead Man gestured down the path to the four buildings beyond, the street crowded with people.

  “Come,” he stated. “Walk with me.”

  Kyle complied, falling into step beside the Dead Man as the ghoulish Weaver levitated forward. They made their way out of the stadium-like Arena, taking the wide path toward the bustling street beyond. Men and women walked up and down the street; some were dressed in the blood-red cloaks of the Weavers Kyle had seen earlier, while others wore armor like the soldiers that had attacked him and Darius. Still others wore plain white uniforms. Kyle even spotted a few children in simple gray uniforms running about. Everyone turned to regard Kyle and the Dead Man curiously, and everyone gave the two a wide berth.

  “This is our campus,” the Dead Man explained, gesturing at the four buildings. “One thousand one-hundred and five people live here. Many of them are students, like yourself.”

  “A thousand?” Kyle asked incredulously. The Dead Man nodded.

  “Only a fraction of them can use magic, of course,” he stated. “There are two hundred and fourteen Death Weavers here...the rest are children or those who can't use magic.” He gestured at one of the children, a girl in a gray uniform. “That is one of your peers, a student Weaver.”

  The Dead Man led Kyle across the campus, toward the leftmost building. People parted before them, bowing at the Dead Man as he passed.

  “You will join your peers in their studies tomorrow,” the Dead Man declared. “You will learn magic with them, eat with them, and live with them. They will become your brothers and sisters, as I have become your father.”

  Kyle said nothing, staring at his own feet as they walked, glancing at his left thumb.

  You're not my father, he thought.

  They reached the leftmost building, and the Dead Man walked Kyle up to the front doorway. There was no door, which Kyle supposed made sense...there was no rain here, after all. The Dead man stopped before a boy wearing a gray uniform.

  “Jayce,” he stated, gesturing at the boy, “...will show you to your room. You will obey him,” he added. He turned to Jayce. “This is Kyle. Take him to his room and drill the light pattern.” He turned back to Kyle. “Use the diamond today. Tomorrow I will teach you to use your own magic.”

  With that, the Dead Man turned and left.

  Kyle turned to face Jayce, clutching the Dead Man's diamond in his right hand. Jayce was maybe a year or two older than him, and a few inches taller. Kyle gave him a weak smile.

  “Hey,” he greeted. Jayce stared back at him coldly.

  “Follow,” he ordered, turning around and walking through the doorway into the building. Kyle hesitated, then sprinted after the boy, falling into step behind him. They weaved through long, stone-walled corridors, passing other students as they went. The other students stared at Kyle as he passed them...and all of them looked as happy to see him as Jayce was.

  Great, Kyle muttered to himself.

  They turned down another corridor, this one leading to a wide staircase going up. Jayce led Kyle up the stairs, turning down yet another long corridor at the top. Eventually they came to a dead-end hallway with doors lining the walls on either side. Jayce stopped at one of the doors, pushing it open.

  “Get in,” he ordered, gesturing inside.

  Kyle complied, stepping into the room beyond. It was tiny, barely big enough to fit the small cot within. The only other piece of furniture in the room was a small dresser. A single lantern bolted to the wall illuminated the small room. There were no windows, the walls made of the same black stone as the rest of the cavern.

  Jayce sat down on the far end of the bed, glaring at Kyle.

  “Weave the light pattern,” he commanded.

  * * *

  Kyle slumped onto his narrow cot, staring at the door Jayce had just left through. He laid down gingerly, the wound on his back aching slightly as it pressed against the stiff mattress. He sighed, staring up at the black stone ceiling.

  Thank god that's over, he thought.

  Jayce had done exactly as the Dead Man had ordered, making Kyle weave the light pattern over and over again. And again...and again. He must have woven that damn pattern a hundred times. At least a hundred times. He'd gotten it wrong the second t
ime...and Jayce had lunged forward, slapping him across the face...hard. He'd never been hit like that before. It'd made him see stars.

  He hadn't screwed up after that...not once.

  Jerk, Kyle muttered to himself.

  He rolled onto his side, trying to find a comfortable position on the narrow cot. His stomach growled, but he didn't feel like eating. He closed his eyes, visions of bright threads of power weaving themselves in his mind's eye. Weaving the light pattern had become rote...mundane, even. The joy he'd felt in using magic had faded completely.

  How terrible that Jayce could have taken something as awesome as using magic, and make it tedious and boring. Like school on Earth, but with beatings.

  He wondered where Kalibar was...how the old man was doing.

  He felt his stomach growl, and sighed, rubbing his eyes. He hadn’t had anything to eat since he’d been captured, and when he’d asked Jayce, the older boy had ignored him. It had to be at least midnight, if not later, but he was so hungry that he doubted he’d be able to fall asleep. He laid there on his side, staring at the wall.

  I'm never getting out of here, he realized.

  He glanced at his left hand, flexing his thumb. It felt naked without his ring there. Without his father's ring there.

  A lump rose in his throat, moisture blurring his vision.

  I'm never going home.

  He closed his eyes, rolling onto his belly. Silently, his face buried in his pillow, he wept.

  Chapter 14

  The Behemoth's eye flashes.

  Ampir veers downward, flying straight at the black waters of the river. He slams through the surface and deep into the water, the river parting around his gravity shield. Darkness envelops him, and then a brilliant flash of green pierces the water behind him, creating a mass of bubbles and foam.

  Vera and Junior scream, and Ampir feels Junior's arms tighten around his neck in a death grip.

  Ampir flies upward, bursting from the surface of the water. Behind him, a wide swathe of the Great River is boiling, steam rising from its surface. The Behemoth's eye remains fixed on that boiling surface, no longer following him.

  It thinks it got me, he realizes, feeling a surge of hope. He turns forward, seeing the cliffside less than a mile away now. The entrance to the evacuation tunnels is hidden along the cliffside, invisible to the uninitiated. But Ampir knows where it is.

  “Ampir,” Vera yells, pointing upward.

  He looks up, spotting another airship flying a few hundred feet above them. More Weavers spill out of the ship. They follow him, but keep their distance...no doubt afraid of the Behemoth's deadly beam. As if sensing his thoughts, the Behemoth's eye turns toward him, tracking him once again.

  Damn it!

  Ampir looks to the rapidly approaching cliffside. Neither the ships nor the Behemoth will be able to follow him through the narrow evacuation tunnels once he gets there. Only the Weavers will be able to follow...and they won't stand a chance.

  He hears Vera moan, and glances down at her. Her eyes are squeezed shut, grimacing against a wave of pain.

  “Almost there baby,” he says, flying low over the river. “It's almost over.”

  * * *

  Kyle woke up to find Jayce staring at him from the doorway.

  He bolted upright, pulling his blanket to his chest. Jayce walked into the room without saying a word, and threw a stack of neatly folded clothes on the dresser opposite Kyle's bed.

  “Put these on,” he ordered. “Meet me outside.” He turned, striding out of the room and closing the door behind him. Kyle watched him go, then turned to the dresser, seeing the clothes sitting there next to the Dead Man's diamond. The reality of his situation came flooding back to him – the attack, the abduction – and his heart sank.

  He sat there for a long moment, staring at the clothes. He felt utterly exhausted…he couldn’t have gotten more than a few hours of sleep.

  “Hurry up!” he heard Jayce shout from behind the door.

  Kyle sighed, dragging himself out of bed. He stood over the stack of clothes, then grabbed a shirt from the top. It was dark gray, and made of a thick, rough fabric. He took off his own shirt, putting the gray one on. Then he grabbed a pair of matching gray pants, unfolding them. He removed his own pants, slipping the new ones on. Then he stared down at the dresser, at the last remaining item. A black sash, with a green diamond woven into the fabric. He reached to pick it up, then stopped, his hand hovering over it.

  “Come on!” he heard Jayce yell.

  Kyle grabbed the sash, wrapping it around his waist, then tying it tight. He hurried to the door, opening it. Jayce glared at him from the doorway, then grabbed his sash, undoing the knot roughly.

  “That's not how you tie it, moron,” he admonished, re-tying the sash so that the knot was at Kyle's left hip. This made it so that the green diamond faced forward. “Grab the diamond,” he ordered, gesturing at the dresser. Kyle turned around, spotting the diamond the Dead Man had given him yesterday. He grabbed it, then faced Jayce again. Without another word, Jayce turned around and walked down the hallway, gesturing for Kyle to follow.

  Kyle trudged along, following the boy through the maze-like hallways of the dormitory. They weaved this way and that, going down one staircase, then another, until they emerged at the entrance to the building. Kyle shuffled through the doorway, staring at the Colosseum-like Arena in the distance. The huge stone sphere floating above the field glowed brightly, like a full moon in the center of the cavern.

  “This way,” Jayce ordered, turning left and walking down the street. Kyle followed along, being sure to stay close behind. The street was relatively empty compared to last night, with only a few dozen people milling about. Jayce led Kyle to the stone bridge arching over the large pond dividing the campus. In the middle of the bridge, at the top of its arch, stood a familiar figure.

  The Dead Man.

  Kyle felt a chill run through him, and hugged his arms to himself, letting Jayce lead him up the bridge toward the pale, gaunt Weaver. The Dead Man's black boots hovered inches above the stone bridge, his inky cloak rippling endlessly in the still air. The man's dark eyes followed Kyle as he followed behind Jayce, until the two were standing before the dark Weaver.

  “Good morning Kyle,” the Dead Man greeted, his deep voice giving Kyle goosebumps.

  “Morning,” Kyle mumbled. The Dead Man turned to Jayce, putting a pale, slender hand on the boy's shoulder.

  “Thank you Jayce,” he stated. “Wait for Kyle back at the entrance to Vortair.”

  Jayce bowed, then turned back the way he came. Kyle stared at the older boy's back, then turned – reluctantly – to face the Dead Man. The Dead Man looked Kyle up and down, a smile curling his pale, thin lips.

  “Your uniform suits you,” he opined. He reached out with one hand, smoothing out a wrinkle in Kyle's shirt. “Did you sleep?”

  “A little.”

  “It will get easier,” the Dead Man reassured. He glanced down at the diamond in Kyle's right hand. “Show me the light pattern.”

  Kyle paused, then closed his eyes, bringing the diamond up to his forehead. He pulled magic from it, weaving the thread of power in his mind's eye. After doing it so many times, the pattern came easily, almost automatically. He finished the pattern, throwing it outward. There was a flash of pure white light, fading in a fraction of a second. He opened his eyes, looking up at the Dead Man.

  “Good,” the ghoulish Weaver murmured. Then he held out his hand, palm up. “Give me the diamond.” Kyle did so, handing it over. The Dead Man placed the diamond into the recesses of his cloak. “You've learned to weave with the diamond's magic,” he continued. “But as a Death Weaver, you'll need to learn to use your own magic.”

  Kyle nodded, wiping his hands on his pants. Despite the cool air of the cavern, he was sweating.

  “Magic,” the Dead Man stated, “...is created in the brain. But it doesn't stay there unless you force it to,” he added. “It is pulled into the bones of y
our skull.” He gestured at Kyle. “Close your eyes.”

  Kyle did so.

  “Focus your mind's eye,” the Dead Man commanded. “Then concentrate on the very edges of that vision.”

  Kyle frowned, focusing inward. He pictured the same mental space he'd woven the diamond's magic in earlier. He followed the Dead Man's instructions, concentrating on the outer edges of that mental space. After a long moment, he opened his eyes.

  “I don't see anything,” he confessed.

  “Don't look,” the Dead Man replied. “Feel.”

  Kyle sighed, closing his eyes again. He turned inward, focusing his mind's eye again. Seconds passed, then nearly a minute. Still, he felt nothing. He paused, then opened his eyes again.

  “I don't feel anything,” he muttered. “Sorry.”

  “Try again,” the Dead Man pressed. “Be patient.”

  Kyle complied, closing his eyes yet again. He focused on the center of his mind's eye, seeing nothing but darkness. He waited, feeling his heart beating in his chest, his breath coming in and out of his lungs.

  Still nothing.

  He kept his eyes closed, keeping his focus on the blank space of his mind's eye. He thought he sensed a vague, almost imperceptible sensation just out of reach, a vibration in his skull. It was as if he were humming, but without the sound.

  “I think I feel it,” Kyle stated, keeping his eyes closed.

  “Pull it inward,” the Dead Man commanded. “...like you did with the diamond.”

  Kyle complied, reaching out with his will and pulling the vibration into the center of his mind's eye. He saw streaks of light converge inward from all directions, forming a small, pulsing pinpoint in the blackness. He held it there with his mind, feeling it struggling to escape his grasp.