by B. T. Narro
“I only needed to know if it was possible to get in.”
“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”
“No.” Desil never had much reason to lie to either of his parents, but he knew Effie wasn’t going to understand his need to participate in the Academy trial. He barely understood it himself.
She squinted as if she might not believe him.
“It’s the truth,” he insisted. “I didn’t want to worry you. I figured I would find out the results from a letter just like that one, and you would never know. It was merely a curiosity.”
There was a long silence.
“What does it say?” he asked.
“So I don’t need to tell you there might be war soon and joining the Academy makes you obligated to fight?”
“I know about the war as well as anyone.”
“How do you know?” Effie pressed.
“The land—its energy is changing. There will be a storm of aggression soon between men of Kyrro and Tenred.” Desil pointed at the letter and asked again, “What does it say?”
“I never read it.” She handed it to him.
He opened it, then gave it a quick read. Expecting either a yes or no, he was confused when he came across neither. He slowed as he read it again, aloud this time.
“Desil Fogg, report to the headmaster of the Academy tomorrow morning. The future of your training will be discussed with him. Come in through the northern gate, where an escort will be expecting you.”
“Let me see it.”
He handed the note to his mother, then went to fetch his towel. “I’m going to the lake while there’s still light. You can tear the letter up if you want.”
“Desil, you have nothing more to say about this?”
“No.” He started toward the door.
“I’ve never heard of a notice like this,” his mother said. “I agree you shouldn’t go, but I’m surprised you’ve dismissed it so easily.”
Because he was going to that meeting with the headmaster no matter what, and there was no time for an argument right now.
“I’d rather not talk about it,” he said as he was leaving.
“Are you going to be out there for hours as usual?”
He wanted to say no, but that would be a lie.
“Yes. There should be a new memory by now.” He had to find it before he went to the Academy in the morning.
CHAPTER TWO
It wasn’t only curiosity that had led Desil to meet with an Academy recruiter. He’d used the opportunity to ask about a mage who could imprint his or her own memories onto bastial energy, a mage who could alter the properties of water and land. A mage like himself.
The recruiter was the prestigious Group One mage instructor who had once overseen the training of Desil’s mother, but the woman didn’t seem to have any idea what Desil was talking about in regard to imprinting memories. And his father was the only other mage she’d known who could alter the properties of water and land.
Desil knew there was another mage like him somewhere in the Academy. He or she visited Lake Kayvol almost every week and imprinted another memory for Desil to…experience? He still hadn’t come up with the right word for the process, as there had been no one to speak to about it.
He let go of all his thoughts and worries as he walked around to the western side of the lake and removed all clothing but his swimming shorts. He’d come here last night, and the night before, but today was the end of the week. Most students at the Academy had the day off from training. More often than not, there would be a new memory waiting for him by the time he was done with his chores.
He walked into the cold water until it was deep enough for him to spear into. As soon as his head submerged, he felt peace. There was nothing easier to alter than water, at least for him. He wondered what it was like for the other mage, and what he or she could do that Desil couldn’t. They could teach each other. They just had to meet.
It had been nearly a year since Desil had experienced his first memory in the water. It took another three months for him to figure out how he could leave one in response.
He swam deeper into the lake, the water shimmering in the moonlight. He felt himself getting closer to the memory as if picking up a scent.
As he neared the exact spot, he could feel the altered bastial energy beckon to him the way sleep pulls a tired mind toward rest. Then he came to the memory.
The experience was like falling into a familiar dream. Each one might last a few seconds or much longer. He remembered the first time he’d discovered one. It was just after the execution of his father, the one person who probably could’ve told Desil more about the experience. Desil had first thought he was hallucinating, that he might be going insane. He’d felt himself swimming through the lake in the memory, only he’d become someone else.
It had ended in a flash. He’d come back into his body having sunk below the water. After figuring out which way was up, it was only a short swim to get his head out. From then on, he could feel the memory coming before he fell into it. Now he always floated on his back first.
The first memories this other mage left for him had been feelings with no images or sounds. It was only later, when they became clearer, that Desil realized they were in fact memories belonging to someone else. Now he could close his eyes and recall the last experience of flipping in the water and sticking out his feet just as if it was his own memory.
Imprinting his memory in response to the mage was unlike anything he’d learned before. Most things took steps to learn, but this happened all at once. At first it seemed hopeless, but after enough effort he suddenly locked on to something in his mind that had been there the whole time. When he closed his eyes, he could almost hear the source of his ability—like distant ocean waves. The more he focused, the louder they became until they were roaring beneath him. Something had reached out and taken hold of him, then pulled. As soon as he’d let himself go, his most recent experience was written into the bastial energy for the other mage to feel.
Recently, Desil felt as though he was running out of time. He wasn’t sure if it was the war, but something was about to change. He wanted to meet this mage before something happened. The last memory Desil had left for the other mage was of him swimming over to land, taking up a stick he’d placed there earlier, and writing hello in the dirt. Now it was time to see what the mage wrote back to him.
Desil shifted to float on his back, then let the memory come. The other mage had swum to the edge of the lake like he had, picked up a stick, and started to carve out a shape in the dirt. It came together quickly, a cat’s head with long whiskers. The mage gave it slits for eyes, drew a little nose, then began a strange shape for its mouth. Eventually it was clear the cat had its tongue sticking out. When finished, the mage let out the laugh of a young woman. It was first time Desil had heard her voice. If she was older or younger than him, it probably wasn’t by many years.
The memory came to an end. He laughed as he could still picture the drawing on the dirt, but then he sighed in disappointment as a thought came to him. Was this just a game to her? Perhaps she didn’t feel the same change coming that he did. The storm brewing between Kyrro and Tenred was nothing to laugh about. Or perhaps she knew the severity of the situation but thought no benefit could come from meeting him, so she took their communications more playfully than seriously.
He needed to figure out what time she usually came to the lake. He’d been here at many different times in the last year but had never seen a young woman swimming. The only time he hadn’t been here was during lunch and supper. She must come during one or the other. He hoped she wanted to meet him as much as he wanted to meet her. There was so much to discuss.
It was time to make his next memory for her. The process didn’t involve recording the memory piece by piece, only imprinting the finished experience onto the energy in the water. He swam back out to their spot in the lake, where it first became too deep for his feet to touch the bottom, then swam
back. He came out of the water shivering, knowing she would feel the same cold and apologizing to her for it. Their memories had become clear enough for him to speak, so he did.
“Come to the Magic Tavern to meet me. That’s just the name; there’s nothing magical about it.” I suppose the furniture is made of sartious energy, but that doesn’t matter right now. “If I’m not there, ask the tavern keeper for Desil Fogg. Again, it’s just a name. There’s nothing foggy about me.”
He sighed as he realized that line wasn’t funny like he’d thought it would be. Worse, he was giving her the wrong impression. This was the first step toward something larger, not some whimsical meeting for fun.
“I hope you agree that it’s prudent for us to see what we can do together.”
He contemplated what else he should say. She was most likely a student of the Academy, an assumption he could make because nearly every proficient mage trained there. Were they teaching her to improve this memory ability? Were there others like them? He had many questions, but he’d save them for their meeting. He’d hoped to learn something that would help him find her at the Academy in the morning, but she’d left him no clues.
He swam back and closed his eyes to focus on the distant waves in his mind, ignoring the sloshing water of the lake. Eventually they roared, and he let these unknown powers pull the memory from him to imprint it onto the energy in the water.
He swam over and got out of the lake, then dried off. He looked north to the Fjallejon Mountains just ahead of him as he dressed. They were the only thing separating the territories of Kyrro and Tenred, a few miles of mountains with a single narrow pathway between them. It had been said that no man could climb up from Kyrro’s side, and that the only way to reach the top was to go around from the north, but Desil knew he could reach the peak if he must. He never went all the way up, however. As much as he wanted to prove to himself that he could, there was no reason to take such a risk.
He climbed and made it to his usual spot about halfway up, where the mountain formed an even shelf for him to stand upon. He turned south to admire Kyrro. Lake Kayvol was so close below him, he might be able to jump in from here. It was a massive body of water, with a powerful yet narrow river snaking out to the west and carving through the contours of the land. Trees were everywhere, but none of the copses were as dense as Raywhite Forest. Thick lines of trees came out from its center in three directions, shaped like an X missing its bottom-left leg. Each pillar of trees separated a city from another. The largest, the capital, stretched outward from the top of the forest. Desil could see the castle in its center even from here and wondered what the king was doing inside at this very moment to prepare for war.
He closed his eyes and let Kyrro speak to him. The energy of the people mixed in to that of the land. He pinpointed his thoughts on all the energy as he focused on the distant waves in his mind once more. As the power of these waves grew to overwhelm his senses, they spoke to him not in a voice, but in emotions. Aggression and hate mangled the wishes for peace, reshaping them into more aggression. Soon every person in Kyrro would have thoughts about the war, either in favor or against.
Desil knew he needed to get involved, but he wanted to save lives instead of take them. If the headmaster wasn’t going to give him an opportunity to do that, he would have to find some way to create his own.
*****
Desil almost never lied or hid anything from his mother, so she didn’t question him in the morning when he told her he was going to the Academy only to purchase another bucket and not to see the headmaster. He’d gone down to the basement to look for anything that might need replacing, overjoyed to find a small crack forming on the side of one bucket.
He took their one horse, his eagerness to arrive causing him to set a quick pace. The northern gate was closed, with only one guard atop the wall. Desil gave his name and held up his identification paper, and soon the guard was opening the gate for him and escorting him toward the headmaster’s apartment at the corner of the enormous school.
Desil walked his horse alongside the escort. They took a wide path between the wall and the backside of a long building Desil knew to be one of the two dining halls. Soon they came to the faculty housing area. He remembered this section from his visit with his mother four years ago, when she’d given him a tour. It was the only time he’d met Basen Hiller, the headmaster, though it was just an introduction.
Eventually they came to the last campus home. The guard knocked. There was a flutter in Desil’s chest as they waited.
The feeling morphed into a sinking dread when no one answered. The guard knocked again. “Headmaster?”
There was no reply.
“He’s not home,” the guard told Desil apologetically.
“I don’t mind waiting for a little while.” Desil couldn’t imagine going back without learning what the headmaster wanted from him.
The guard’s mouth went flat. “A little while, then.”
They waited in silence. There was a red pillar at the center of campus with a clock on each side. It was only eight in the morning. Desil couldn’t imagine the headmaster assuming Desil was late at this time and deciding to leave, but what was the alternative? Could the headmaster have slept somewhere else and was on his way? That didn’t seem likely either.
After ten minutes, the guard told Desil, “I have to be going back, and you’re not allowed to be in this area without an escort.”
“I must stay a little longer, please. I promise not to do anything but wait here.” Desil extended his hand to be shaken. “You can trust me.”
The guard didn’t offer his hand as he eyed Desil.
“Please,” Desil repeated, refusing to drop his hand.
The guard sighed, then finally shook. “But no more than half an hour.” He took out a quill and a scrap of paper, then started to speak what he was scribbling. “Desil Fogg came, but no one was here. His meeting needs to be rescheduled.” The guard slid the note under the door. “If the headmaster doesn’t come, a message will be sent to you with a new time. Don’t return expecting me to let you in without a new message.”
“I understand. Thank you.”
The guard nodded and started to go.
“Wait,” Desil called as he realized something. The guard turned. “I have to buy a bucket while I’m here, so I’ll be exiting through the eastern gate. I’ve been here plenty of times before. I promise it won’t be a problem.”
“Fine. I’m trusting you.” The guard left.
Desil wouldn’t have said anything, but it was important that the guard didn’t expect to see Desil leaving through the northern gate after half an hour.
Desil waited an hour, but the headmaster didn’t show up. So he waited another, then another.
Eventually he could hear movement around the Academy. He climbed up on top of the headmaster’s roof for a look and found the roads to be filled with people.
Lunch hours, he realized after a curse.
He felt guilty for breaking his promise to the guard, and now he could actually get the man in trouble if the wrong person found Desil here. He blew out his frustration and anxiety with a huge breath as he waited some more.
Eventually the roads cleared. A few instructors on their way to their homes had given him looks, but no one had approached. It was finally time to give up and get the bucket.
He was so disappointed and angry that he hardly noticed anything or anyone he passed as he rode south to get to the main road, then east toward the markets. All he did was look for the face of Basen Hiller, which Desil was certain he could recognize if they crossed paths.
They didn’t, and soon he was riding out of the Academy with a new bucket and a horrible attitude. He dreaded facing his mother.
He already felt bad about lying to her last night, which meant offering her the truth was his only option if she asked.
“What took so long?” were the first words out of her mouth. She spoke again before he could answer. “You saw Basen, didn
’t you?”
“I tried,” Desil admitted. “But he wasn’t there.”
“I’m disappointed you felt you had to lie to me.”
He was surprised when she said nothing else.
“I couldn’t help going. I still can’t. I have to find out what that meeting is about. I promise I’ll tell you, and we’ll have plenty of time to discuss whatever it is before any decisions are made.”
They stood in the middle of the dining area as they spoke, his mother blocking the path farther into the tavern. A half dozen patrons ate close by, though all seemed more interested in their own debate of whether war was coming than listening to Desil’s conversation.
Effie unfolded her arms and opened them for Desil. They shared a hug.
“You don’t need to lie to me,” she said. “If this isn’t about joining the Academy, it might be something I approve of anyway.”
They parted as he thanked her.
“I know I can’t force you into a life you don’t want,” she added. “I just thought we’d agreed about that Academy contract. It’s not a good idea to sign and join, especially right before war.”
“I do agree,” Desil said. “But something is about to change, and I think this meeting is the start of it.”
“Well, I guess we’ll see. So what happens now?”
“A messenger will come with a new time.”
*****
When three swordsmen of the king showed up at the tavern later in the day, Desil assumed they would be the new guards of Kayvol. Effie offered them a free meal, but they declined, to Desil’s surprise. No one refused a free meal, so this must be serious.
“Have you seen the headmaster of the Academy today?” asked one soldier.
“No,” Effie said, then looked over her shoulder at Desil.
“I haven’t, either.”
“If you see him or hear of his whereabouts, you are hereby required by law to report whatever you know to your city guard,” said the same man. The other two were already on their way out the door. “If a psychic later determines you withheld information, you will spend a minimum of one year in the dungeons.”
