The Buried Symbol (The Ruins of Issalia Book 1)

by Jeffrey L. Kohanek

  “Sounds great,” he replied before heading to the kitchen.

  He stepped inside to find Saul taking pastries out of the oven. They smelled wonderful.

  “G’morning, Saul,” Brock said. “What’s for breakfast?”

  Saul turned toward the door. “Brock. You kitchen thief. Are you here to steal some of Saul’s treats before they’re ready to serve?”

  Brock held up his hands. “Oh no. Not this time at least.”

  Saul set the hot pan on the counter and began scooping the pastries into a basket.

  “That’s good. Saul has made a special treat for you today. Saul promises you’re gonna like it,” he replied in his odd third-person manner.

  “Well, I can promise that I like the smell already,” Brock replied.

  “You go on out and have a seat. Saul will bring it out shortly.”

  Brock backed through the door into the dining room. He spotted James walking in.

  “Hi James. Can I get four cups of caffe? Tip and Libby are going to join Ashland and me for breakfast.”

  “Sure, Brock,” James replied, walking behind the bar. “They’ll be right up. Even with a little milk.”

  He found a seat at a table. A minute later, James set four cups down on the table. A few minutes after that, Tipper and Libby joined him as Ashland was descending the stairs.

  After enjoying Saul’s cheese and pepper pastry, the two couples spent the morning chatting in the empty dining room. It was nearly noon when Dory strolled in and declared that the roof did indeed need to be shoveled because of the snow that was piling up outside. Tipper went off to find Garrett to help with the effort. Libby excused herself to get the baths ready in case anyone wanted to use them.

  That left Brock alone with Ashland. They talked for a bit and then Ashland put her hand on Brock’s leg. It only took moments before it affected him. He suggested that they retreat to their room for some time alone. She smiled, grabbing his hand and pulling him up the stairs.

  . . .

  Brock lay under the sheets with his arms around Ashland when they heard a noise on the roof. The sound of footsteps was followed by a loud scraping sound going across the ceiling.

  “Good grief,” Ashland said. “It sounds like he’s going to fall right into the room.”

  He laughed. “That would be very much like Tipper.”

  Again, footsteps climbed toward the apex of the roof, followed by the scraping sound of the shovel pushing snow. The footsteps began the third ascent, followed by a loud thud, a rapid scraping sound, and a trailing yell.

  Brock glanced toward the window as the dark shape of Tipper fell past.

  He bolted out of bed, running to the window. He flipped the latch and yanked it open. Stark naked, he stuck his upper body out the window to see what had happened.

  Through the thickly falling flakes, he saw Tipper buried in snow. He was curled up on his side, holding his leg. Garrett was trouncing through the snow toward his co-worker.

  Brock pulled his head into the room and slammed the window shut. He ran to the pile of clothes on the floor, found his smallclothes, and pulled them on.

  “What are you doing? What happened?” Ashland sat upright in the bed.

  He glanced up at her, trying not to let the enticing curves of her bare torso distract him. “Tipper fell. I think he’s hurt.”

  Brock grabbed his trousers, quickly sliding his legs in. He secured them at the waist and glanced toward Ashland as his reached for the door handle.

  “I really hate to say this, but you might want to cover up.”

  She looked down, hastily pulling the blanket up to her neck. He ripped the door open and shot out into the hallway.

  When he was descending the stairs, Garrett was dragging Tipper and a lot of snow into the inn. A grimace of pain twisted Tipper’s face. Brock ran over to Tipper, ignoring the cold snow beneath his bare feet.

  “Where are you hurt?” Brock asked.

  With a clenched jaw, Tipper responded, “My leg.”

  Garrett was frantic. “He hit his leg on the hitching post when he fell. I think it’s bad.”

  Brock lifted the leg of Tipper’s trousers. The blood on the outside couldn’t prepare him for what was underneath. Just above the boot, Tipper lower leg dangled at an unnatural angle with two white bones jutting out. Blood seeped down the leg from the wound.

  Garrett’s face went white, the gruesome injury causing him to back away.

  Brock glanced up at Garrett. “Get him some food.”

  Garrett looked at Brock, confusion on his pale face. “What? Food?”

  Brock was louder, his voice firm. “Do it. Anything Saul has. Go.”

  As Garrett scrambled off to the kitchen, Brock focused on the task at hand. Needing contact with exposed skin, he placed his hand on his friend’s forehead and closed his eyes.

  From behind, he distantly heard Ashland’s voice. “Brock! No!”

  Ignoring her, he quickly found his center in the calmness of Order. It became easier every time he did it. Extending his awareness, he found the source of Order within Tipper, disturbed by the angry red tempest of his wound.

  Brock reached out with his mind, diving into the fury of red symbols swirling about. He pulled hard at the Order within Tipper, using it to surround and squeeze the massive mess of red symbols. The swirling storm of runes sped up and then began to unravel, the red threads dissipating into the blue until they were gone.

  His eyes opened to see Tipper’s eyes wide as he struggled for a breath of air. Tipper gasped, his body shivering violently. Brock looked down at his friend’s leg. It looked normal other than the dried-on blood.

  Tipper was still trying to catch his breath when Brock heard Ashland descending the stairs. Garret burst into the room with a half a loaf of bread and a chunk of cheese, running to where Tipper lay.

  Ashland knelt next to Tipper. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  Tipper sat up, looking down at his leg. “Yeah. I’m fine now. Except I feel like I could eat a whole cow.”

  Garrett held the bread and cheese toward Tipper. “Food,” he said, his face still white.

  Tipper grabbed the bread and bit off a big chunk, chewing heartily.

  Ashland looked at Brock. “How did you do that?”

  He shrugged. “What do you mean? I healed him like anyone else would.”

  Pausing his chewing, Tipper chimed in, “That was amazing, Brock. I was afraid it would have to be cut off. But now it’s good as new. It’s a miracle.” Tipper looked at Ashland. “You can do this too?”

  She glanced at Tipper before focusing back on Brock. “Yes, but I’m not this strong. In fact, I don’t think anyone is.”

  Brock looked at her. “What are you talking about? You’re the best healer at the school, except for Varius I guess.”

  Ashland shook her head. “You don’t know what you did, do you?”

  Brock looked at Tipper, who was taking a bite of cheese, and then back to Ashland. “No, I guess not.”

  “Brock.” She stared into his eyes. “You forgot to set his leg.”

  A stab of panic hit as the realization set in. She was right. In his desire to help his friend, he had forgotten to set Tipper’s leg before healing it. By all rights, it should have healed at an ugly angle below the knee. Even if the bones had fused back together, at that angle Tipper would have barely been able to put any weight on it. Brock could have crippled his friend.

  CHAPTER 74

  As he stepped into the lounge, Brock scanned the room. Some boys rested on sofas and lounge chairs, while others sat at tables. He crossed the room, heading toward a table near the back. Two familiar faces sat at the table, staring down at thick books and scattered papers filled with notations.

  “Hi guys. I’m back,” Brock announced.

  Benny looked up, smiling. “Brock, it’s good to see you. We were beginning to wonder if the snow had trapped you until spring.”

  Cam nodded at Benny’s statement.

 
“For a while, it seemed that way. I don’t know if you guys have been out there, but it’s chest high.” Brock shook his head in wonder. “After two days of steady snow, it finally stopped. By then, Fallbrandt was buried. Everyone took turns shoveling, making paths so people could at least get around. That worked for a few days, but it was still impossible to get into or out of town.”

  “Late yesterday, the academy trailblazer came through town, opening a wide path. Unfortunately, it also left tall piles of snow, burying the paths to the houses and businesses all over again. Around mid-morning today, we finished clearing those paths. And now, here I am.” Brock held his arms wide open.

  “Trailblazer? That must be the big steam carriage that was making all that noise outside the other day.” Benny remarked.

  Brock nodded. “That sounds right. It’s like a steam carriage with spiked wheels and some sort of snow grinder on the front. It’s pretty amazing.”

  Benny nodded. “Yeah. It was pretty cool to watch.” Then he asked, “What did you do with all that time when you were stuck in Fallbrandt? It must have been boring.”

  Brock smiled, thinking about the week and the wonderful time he had with Ashland. “Somehow, we survived.” Changing subjects, he asked, “What about you, did you make any progress?”

  Benny started. “What? Oh, Yes. Let me see here.”

  Grabbing a chair, Brock sat as Benny dug through his notes.

  “Ah, here it is,” Benny said, turning to address him. “First, I’ve confirmed that you were correct. The notes from Byland Hedgewick are definitely the key to translating the book. While the two messages don’t cover every word and symbol, they cover enough that much of the rest can be deduced.”

  He tapped on his notes, excited. “The first thing I’ve learned is that Chaos is a natural force. It has something to do with change and destruction. It sounds a lot like Order, but the opposite if you know what I mean.”

  Brock nodded. That made sense and felt right. “Okay. That’s a start. Then what?”

  Benny continued. “Well, like Order, there’s a small part of the population that can, or could back then, manipulate it.”

  Brock nodded again, feeling excited by the progress. “I’m still with you. What else?”

  Benny shrugged. “That’s all I’ve got so far.”

  “That’s it? In…how many days?”

  Benny shrugged again. “Well, five days I guess.”

  Brock realized he sounded ungrateful. “I know you’re doing your best. I bet it’ll go faster as more words and symbols get translated.”

  Benny shrugged. “That’s true.”

  “See if you can find out how it works. Find out how Chaos can be used. We’ll see where things go from there.”

  Benny nodded. “I’ll do my best. However, there’s only one day left before classes start again.”

  Brock smiled. “Yeah, but now I’m here to help you.”

  CHAPTER 75

  “Healing will remain your primary objective throughout the year. It’s still the single most important resource the Academy can provide,” Master Varius explained to the class. “However, healing isn’t the only ability involving the use of Order. While you’ll continue to spend one day a week as healers for Paladin training, it’s time to cover something new.”

  “I’m aware that most of you have been unable to successfully heal. I expected as much, for it is a rare talent. However, this next ability is far more common.”

  She turned and tapped on a tapestry depicting a pyramid of twenty-one symbols, the rune representing Order at the top.

  “These are symbols you’ve seen your whole life. The citizens of the Empire are marked with these runes, determining their vocation. They define who they are and how they can best serve the Empire.”

  She stepped forward and continued. “Divining is the talent of looking inside a person to identify their potential. Like healing, you must reach a state of meditation and locate your own force of Order within.”

  Varius clasped her hands together at her waist. “When divining, you must always place your hand on the subject’s forehead. When you extend yourself, seeking their sense of Order, you are looking for one of these runes.” She pointed at the pyramid of runes on the wall.

  “A rune will be clearly seen in your mind’s eye. When this happens, there will be no doubt,” she said with confidence. “Those of you who have a stronger affinity with Order may see other runes behind the first, aligned in layers. While the first is the strongest, you may be able to dive deeper and see one or two others. These other runes reflect lesser potential vocations that are inherent in your subject, each a weaker natural ability than the one prior.”

  Brock thought back to his Academy evaluation. Without knowing what he was doing, he had performed divining on Varius. However, when he did it, he saw five runes.

  “Find a partner and pair up for your first session in divining. Take turns attempting this ability until the bell rings.”

  Brock’s first thought was to take Ashland as a partner. He waved to get her attention, but she shook her head. Apparently, that wasn’t an option. He looked around for a partner, eventually seeing Hamish alone. Pushing his chair from the table, Brock walked over to him.

  “Hi, Hamish. It looks like you need a partner.”

  Hamish nodded. “Yes Mister Brock. Will you be my partner?”

  Brock smiled. “Of course, Hamish. Would you like to go first?”

  Hamish nodded. “I’d be honored, Mister Brock.”

  He slid his chair closer as Hamish put his hand in place. Brock felt the warmth of the palm on his forehead. Hamish closed his eyes and began to meditate.

  Relaxing as Hamish did his thing, Brock thought about how it felt when divining Varius. He thought about what Hamish might see. That’s when he remembered he was Unchosen. A wave of fear struck. What would Hamish see? Would he be undone and cast out of the Academy?

  Brock’s stomach rolled with anxiety as the minutes slowly passed. Finally, Varius called for partners to switch places. Hamish removed his hand, shaking his head.

  “I have failed again,” the odd boy said.

  “Don’t worry, Hamish. This was just your first try.”

  “No. I have failed repeatedly,” Hamish replied. “I seem to fail at everything I try in this class and all others. The exception is my passion for Lore.”

  Brock realized the boy was a bit odder than he had thought.

  “Just relax, and I’ll take a turn,” Brock said to him.

  Placing his palm on Hamish’s forehead, Brock closed his eyes and dropped into meditation. The cool blue calmness of Order was soothing. He reached toward Hamish, and a rune filled his mind’s eye. It was the rune of Order. Behind it, he found Cognitio, the rune of knowledge. Even further back, he could make out the rune of Mercator. Not giving up, he pushed harder, sensing an additional three runes hidden in the depths of Hamish. He opened his eyes to look at Hamish.

  “Did you see anything?” Hamish asked. “I really hope you saw something interesting.”

  “I definitely saw something,” Brock replied. He scribbled down the symbols he had seen on a sheet of paper. Once finished, he showed it to Hamish.

  “Oh my! I knew I had potential for knowledge!” he exclaimed. “I don’t care about these other things, but the knowledge symbol is so exciting!”

  Brock was a little overwhelmed by the odd boy’s reaction. “That’s nice. I’m happy for you, Hamish.”

  Hamish leaned forward, hugging him. Brock looked toward Ashland for help, but she just giggled at his dilemma. Thankfully, the bell rang.

  CHAPTER 76

  The sheer amount of snow brought by the blizzard swayed things in winter’s favor, giving it a firm grip on the valley. Brock knew that spring would come eventually, but the initial thrill he had felt from seeing snow was long forgotten. Like the other students, he now remained in the warmth and shelter of the Academy rather than venturing outside.

  Due to their busy schedule
s, he and Ashland had to steal what moments they could to spend time together. Being trapped in the Academy, those moments were rarely private. Brock cherished every meeting, meal, and conversation, but he found himself longing for the time they had spent at The Quiet Woman.

  Like any other student, his classes and studies consumed most of his time.

  In Lore, they studied the history and details of each of the major Empire provinces. As always, the timeline started after the Empire had been formed. It seemed as if the kingdoms that had existed prior to the Empire were forgotten.

  In Hierarchist class, they had begun operating as an imaginary city court. Each student was assigned a position found within city government. Unfortunately, Corbin had the privilege of being the city prelate while Brock was relegated the role of a clerk. Corbin relished his position of power, running their government with practiced precision while assigning impossible tasks to Brock, berating him publicly at any misstep.

  Frustrated with the situation, Brock approached Pretencia with his complaint. The master hierarchist told him that Corbin was within his rights as prelate and that Brock needed to adapt if he were to survive within the Empire Hierarchy. In hindsight, Brock realized that he should’ve expected such a response. Pretencia seemed to hate him almost as much as Corbin did.

  Thankfully, things proceeded far better in his other classes.

  Paladin class continued on course, further honing Brock’s speed, strength, and flexibility with a vigorous training program augmented by the mental and physical precision required to perfect weapon combat forms. The most intense day of the week was always sparring day. Brock was faring better of late, rarely requiring healing.

  In Ecclesiastics, divining had proven to be far easier than healing. In fact, Brock could easily discern five or more runes in every subject he read. Unfortunately, he had to continually manipulate the situation to prevent being discovered as Unchosen. He did what he could to be paired with someone who hadn’t displayed any skill with Order. When that didn’t work, he made sure the other person never had the chance to perform divining on him. He was thankful to escape the situation on the days he had healing duty. Not only did it allow him to be close to Ashland, he found that he felt stronger whenever they were together.