“Usually, but I could not tell you outright,” the other boy admitted. “You see, there are six classes as we know them—conjuration, evocation, transmutation, divination, manipulation, and constitution.” The apprentice opened his book and pursed his lips as he glanced at it. “I can give you a more thorough explanation of each later, but they are an easy way to find out how your majestic relates to your Mana. For example, a spell or power of the conjuration class can make something—an item, element, or things like that—from Mana.”
“I know that one fairly well,” Devol said. “My mother is adept at conjuration cantrips. But there are only certain things you can make, aren’t there?”
Jazai nodded. “There are rules and you can’t make something like an invincible shield or a bow that never runs out of arrows. But since that isn’t your class, you can learn more about it later.”
“That is true. So what does perplexion mean mine can do?” he asked and rested the blade tip on the ground.
His companion shrugged. “Well, that’s the tricky thing, isn’t it? Also, it’s the reason why my typically composed mentor is so excited.”
The two young Magi looked at the arguing Templars again. Zier had stepped so close that he almost touched Wulfsun’s chest and continued to argue his position while he tried to slip sly insults past the giant. By the way the commander narrowed his eyes, however, he noticed each one.
“That’s how he acts when he’s excited?” Devol asked and gestured at the dryad. “I’d hate to see him angry.”
“Different circumstances.” Jazai sighed and shook his head before he returned to his book. “Because you're in the perplexion class, you don’t fit neatly into any of the other classes. It means your power is probably rather interesting but more difficult to pinpoint and train for.”
“Oh. Well, that is a problem,” he muttered and glanced at his weapon before he focused on his companion. “So…do you have one?”
“One what?” the apprentice asked and looked up from his book.
“You know,” he responded and shook his sword. “I overheard you talking about the time you did the test. So does that mean you were trying to see what majestic you could wield? Or was that only advanced Magi training?”
Jazai smiled and nodded. “Mine is divination,” he revealed, held the open book tied to his waist, and tilted it toward him. Devol assumed that the magic within it made it light enough to carry this way when it should have been far too heavy. “My majestic was one my father found before I was born. It sat in the vaults here in the order until I arrived. He sent me a letter to personally congratulate me on being the one to claim it. Divination is the magic class that affects the mind or astral plane.” He showed him several lines written in the pages that he didn’t look at very closely at first.
“Astral plane?” Devol asked and squinted as he focused on the words. “What is an… Wait, this is about me!” He gasped. Within the tome, he could see words being written in front of his eyes. The pages showed his full name, date of birth, and paragraphs mentioned details of his life, his practice in swordsmanship, his wins in foot races with other children, his favorite meals, and even his best stories.
“It’s impressive, isn’t it?” the apprentice asked with a smile. “The more I get to know someone, the more I am able to tap into their memories and my majestic can probe more deeply into their minds. Usually, I can only learn things they are thinking about in the moment or pieces of information that are ingrained in them—like their name, personality type, things like that. The more I am around them and the more they let their guard down, the more my book can discover.”
“My guard down?” He considered that for a moment and decided to try something. Without saying anything, he drew out his Anima again as he followed the words being written. They began to slow. The record of the memory of going into the Emerald Forest outside Monleans with his mother changed to a description of the room and the events that had just taken place.
“A good guess,” Jazai said with a nod. “If your Anima is up, that reduces my majestic’s ability to ‘discover’ more about you, at least your past. But if you want to get around it, you have to be thoughtlessly aware.”
“Thoughtlessly aware?” He didn’t quite grasp what the boy meant with that. “You mean empty my mind?”
“You have the right idea,” his companion agreed. “For example, if you only focus on what you are doing right now, all I can retrieve is your basic information and whatever you are doing at this moment. Although it only works if you aren’t far away.” He turned the page to reveal that it was now blank before he flipped it back. Some of the words had disappeared, but his details and some of the memories it had already written down remained. “It stays unless I erase it or the person or thing dies.”
Devol nodded and felt very uneasy. “That’s honestly terrifying. You could learn anything you wanted about a person without talking to them.”
Jazai shrugged. “Again, there are rules. It only worked well because you didn’t have your guard up and I had time to get to know you a little already. By the way, I only explained this because I feel like we’ll get along if you stay,” he told him. “Whenever we decide about what your majestic can do, you’ll want to keep that between you and your allies. In battle, an opponent knowing your tricks is a huge disadvantage, although I’m sure you can see that for yourself.”
“You’re right.” He nodded and smiled at the apprentice. “Thank you.”
“For telling you?” the boy asked.
“For saying you think we’ll get along,” he stated, flipped his sword, and rested it on his other shoulder. “I think we could be good friends too.”
The apprentice’s eyes widened before he smiled and nodded. “It would be nice to have someone who is close to my age,” he admitted. “But that all depends on how long you are gonna be here. Still, those are questions for later.” He gestured to his book. “I was trying to see if I could learn anything about your majestic’s ability.”
He pointed to the left page that showed an inked picture of Devol with his name and basic information written next to it. “I’ve worked with my majestic over several months, and I have it set so that if I have the chance to learn about someone, the specifics of their majestic is one of the first things to come up. Of course, not many people have one so I’m somewhat lacking in practical experience.” He moved his finger to the section titled Majestic that read emits a bright, unnatural light. “As you can see, I unfortunately had no success. If my tome can’t deduce it, my observations are stored so it can build on them later.”
“Is it because I don’t know much about it?” Devol asked.
“Probably. There have been a couple of times where I’ve discovered something my target forgot or didn’t know about before. I hoped it would work like that here, but no such luck.”
The young Magi sighed and his frown returned as he looked at the Templars, who seemed to have resolved none of their disagreements. “Then it looks like we’ll all have to find out together,” he stated before he strode toward the two opponents.
Jazai reached a hand out in an attempt to stop him. “I wouldn’t interrupt them when they are like—”
“Hey!” he shouted and immediately drew their attention. With his free hand on his hip, he stared at them and let his exasperation show. “Thank you for helping me thus far, but I want to know more about this sword and we won’t find the answers any sooner if you stand here and shout at each other. So please, can we get back to the tests?”
The apprentice lowered his hands and managed to control a laughing fit when he saw the perplexed expressions on the two elders’ faces. Zier coughed into his hand and backed away from Wulfsun, who rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Eh, sorry about that, lad—a civil disagreement between a couple of old comrades,” the commander muttered in a subdued tone.
“Quite,” the dryad agreed. “I suppose I was caught up in the excitement. Majestics are quite rare, and anything in the perp
lexion class is extremely rare and I wanted to— Oh, it does not matter at the moment.” He turned to Devol and nodded. “You are right. We need to learn more about your ability before we can get any real work done. And the next part of the test should at least provide us with a starting point.”
“Which was exactly my point,” the giant Templar muttered. His comrade darted him an irritated look.
“Wonderful, then let’s get to it!” the boy exclaimed and thumped his fist against his chest. “So what’s the next part?”
Wulfsun placed his hands on his waist. “We’ll head into the arena so you can show us your skill, and you’ll get to try your majestic in a more…hmm…visceral setting.”
“I’d like that,” he said with an eager nod. “So will I spar with a beast or something?”
“He has been called that before.” Zier snickered and the commander cast him an angry look.
“Context is important there, scholar,” the giant retorted and turned to the boy. “But I’ll give you better than some beastie. boyo. Your opponent”—he placed a thumb against his chest plate and gave him a broad, toothy grin—“will be yours truly!”
Chapter Fourteen
“I have to slay you?” Devol asked and stared at the Templar, his eyes wide. “That seems like it could be…awkward.”
“You don’t have to slay me, boy.” Wulfsun sighed and shook his head.
“I would not mind it,” Zier mumbled loudly enough for the Templar commander to hear.
“Shut yer trap,” he retorted and looked at the boy again. “It’s only a sparring match. We’ll try to see if using your majestic will provide more information in battle.”
“It’s a chance to see what your power might be,” the dryad added as he bound the hefty tome Jazai had retrieved for him previously with a length of leather around the waist of his robes.
“Aye, that too.” The giant thumped his chest with one of his hands. “Take this match as an opportunity to go all out. We’re here to see how far you’ve come until now.”
Jazai lowered his head down and whispered to Devol. “Gonna spoil the big secret here. The test isn’t to determine whether you’re worthy to join the Templars or not.”
“It’s to see how strong I am, right?” he responded. “Where I need to focus my training?”
The apprentice nodded and straightened. “So you caught on?”
“Yeah. I’ve heard them saying things like that for the last little while,” he replied. “It’s been so much process, but my ears are sharp.”
Wulfsun clapped sharply. “All right, are you ready, boyo?” he asked eagerly.
Devol nodded and pointed to him. “Will you use your majestic as well, Wulfsun?”
The Templar smirked. “Of course. I can’t make this too easy. There would be no point to it if I did.”
“So do you need to go and get it first?” he asked.
“No need.” The commander shook his head and his smirk became a broad grin. “I’ve almost always got it on me.”
“Oh, can I see it?” he asked and scrutinized him to see where he might have strapped it on his person.
“You’ll see it soon enough.” The chuckle that followed seemed a little ominous. “Come along now.”
Wulfsun marched past the boys and back to the outer room with Zier on his heels. The two young Magi soon caught up and Devol wondered what the man’s majestic could be. He’d said he already had it on him and it could be any number of things. Vaust’s was a kama and a rather ornate one at that.
He did mention that they typically had an elaborate look about them, and looking at the large man now…well, it certainly wasn’t his coat. He noticed his gauntlets—black with an intricate, looped pattern in gold. His thoughts returned to the wildkin girl he had seen earlier. She also used some type of gauntlet or gloves and when she attacked, she seemed to strike with invisible claws of some kind. So the gauntlets were a possibility but unless he knew what they did, he had little opportunity to prepare.
Before he realized it, they had left the spire. Wulfsun pushed a massive pair of doors and they opened into a large dirt arena. A couple of stairways led to a large platform above and Zier and Jazai ascended the right side.
“Good luck, Devol,” the apprentice said as he turned and gave him a thumbs-up. “We have good healers, so don’t be afraid to go all out.”
The boy nodded and returned the gesture. “That’s good. I don’t have to worry about hurting Wulfsun too badly then.”
Zier snickered as the commander smirked. “If the boy didn’t sound so earnest, I would say he was mocking me.”
The young Magi discarded his pack at the edge of the entrance to the arena and moved to the right side as his opponent went left. His focus settled into calm and he swung the blade a few times to make sure he had acclimated to it. While it still felt entirely natural to wield it, he was again amazed by how weightless it felt to him given that it was much longer than the other weapons he was used to.
Satisfied, he faced Wulfsun, who had undone his jacket and tossed it aside to reveal a large chest plate with a similar pattern to his gauntlets. The giant crouched, clapped sharply, and extended his arms. “All right, boyo. Whenever you are ready, come at me with everything you’ve got!”
Devol nodded and held his blade with both hands on the grip. When he looked at the massive Templar now, he felt a little of the intimidation he had experienced earlier when he first saw him stride across the bridge. The man’s expression didn’t contain even a hint of anger or even seriousness, but rather a confident smirk and even a tinge of eagerness for battle. It made him realize again how gigantic he was, not only in stature but in sheer presence.
Despite this, he straightened, focused on his target, and let his Anima come forth. Wulfsun nodded approvingly and mirrored him. His shimmered a bright yellow-and-white. It was as wide as Vaust’s had first felt and not as oppressive but certainly fierce. The young Magi drew his blade to the side. He did not know what to expect from his opponent, but he had to be careful. Even if he was a simple brawler, a man his size combined with a Mana-infused strike would be enough to end this test very quickly.
Devol drew in a long, quiet breath and let his arms lower very briefly before he attacked the Templar. When he was a few yards away, he leapt to the side and struck at Wulfsun’s left arm. His adversary reacted with ease and merely raised his hand so his gauntlet blocked the blow, but Devol had feinted and now spun in place and swung so his strike aimed at the giant’s chest.
His sharp ears heard a chuckle from the commander when his blade met the armor. He slid back while he checked the chest plate with narrowed eyes. Surprisingly, he couldn’t see a single scratch so it must be fairly durable. But from what he had been told, a majestic could destroy even exotics.
Calmly, he stopped his slide and used the momentum to sprint forward as he drew his arm back to thrust the sword toward the Templar’s head. Wulfsun brought his right gauntlet to block but it seemed unlikely that it would be enough—it was not a shield after all. This assumption proved erroneous when the tip of his blade struck the gauntlet and it refused to budge an inch more.
The boy’s eyes widened as he landed and glanced at his opponent, who extended his palm and prepared to swipe. He ducked and a meaty hand whistled above his head with a rush of air. Without pause, he stepped back as he took his blade in both hands again and used Vis to summon as much Mana as he could in a short time. His opponent was unknown so he needed to test how much abuse the Templar could take before he showed even a hint that he would give. He brought his blade to the side before he swiped it again. Wulfsun blocked it with both gauntlets and a loud crash sounded through the arena. Zier and Jazai’s robes billowed from the wind kicked up by the impact and dust flurried around the two combatants.
When it settled, Devol strained against the commander’s defense. He noticed that his blade chafed against the metal of the man’s gauntlets, lowered his sword, and took a few steps back as he breathed deeply and
narrowed his eyes. “It’s the armor itself, right?” he asked and his Mana flowed in his eyes. “That’s your majestic, isn’t it?”
The man’s smirk returned. “Aye, you’ve got it,” he replied and straightened. “But it protects more than only that.”
The truth soon became clear. Now that he had collected himself and used Vello to analyze his opponent, he could see that his Mana was centered on the chest plate and gauntlets but flowed out from there to his body as a whole. From the top of his head to his feet, it enveloped him in what appeared to be a full-body suit of armor created from his Mana.
“It looks almost exactly how Anima looked on Mr. Lebatt,” he noted and focused on the brighter light from the armor itself. “But it’s more solid. I should have noticed even before we started the match.”
“You did rush in a little too fast,” Wulfsun agreed. “But see here, boyo, this isn’t the typical defense Anima provides. It is far stronger than anything you are used to—which I would assume is not very much given that you only discovered it a day ago.” He chuckled and regarded him with kindly amusement. “I guess I should be a little sporting since I know your class and all, however much good that does me.” He gestured toward himself with his thumb. “My majestic falls into the constitution class—the one the scholar refers to as the ‘boring’ one.”
“I typically say basic to be more polite,” Zier interjected and beside him, Jazai sighed.
“Constitution is about pushing your Mana beyond the limits of normal Magic. You don’t get many of the special tricks of the other classes but you can use your natural talents in ways they couldn’t without decades of training.” He flexed his arms and the yellow light condensed even further to coat his entire body in a sheet of Mana. “In my majestic’s case, it can create armor tougher than almost any material out there, but don’t think it is only a shiny suit of armor.” He held one arm up and clenched his fist. Mana began to swirl around it. “With every physical strike you have given me so far, my majestic has absorbed some of that impact.”
A New Light (The Astral Wanderer Book 1) Page 11
