by Marc Mulero
Little red dots stopped bleeding just as they started, and tiny holes in his shirt could easily be explained. He fell! It was nothing. Back on the path he went, thinking all the way if he should try again. Ten steps in, the splinter in his mind grew into a branch, and by a hundred steps, he barely had control of his hands placing the impeller behind his back once more. The smile on his face would’ve been impossible to remove as he thumbed the knob, this time making sure that the pulse of wind would break evenly around his body.
He laughed with his feet planted firmly. The button was pressed, and this time he felt cradled, feeling as if twenty hands were pushing him high and fast before letting him go to fly. Mouth open, trees and vines turning into blurs in his vision, air drying out his eyes - it felt amazing. And once the ground came closer, his feet scrambled to catch it. One knee almost buckled, but he caught himself and ran onward so that he could remain standing.
I did it!
Hands to knees, hyperventilating in celebration, Eres couldn’t believe it.
The next two tries he let his success get to his head and fell again, once on the crystalline dirt and again closer to Dolseir. But eventually, a skill began to develop. For another mile out, the half hour it would have taken to walk it was instead spent stumbling through this impossible new way of travel. It was an investment. And every time he pressed down on his gift, he felt that much closer to his father, no matter how far away he was.
It was only when every joint and bone seemed to be rubbing painfully together like rusted metal that he decided to give it a rest. The smile was still plastered on his face as he swung open his map and buried his face in it. A half mile left. His finger traced the path as his legs carried him up a slanted hill. Kor Vinsánce was no longer blinking since his ooma has pressed it earlier, but it still shined like it was something important. If it was as big as it was on his map, he thought it should be visible by now, but he shrugged and kept on going anyway.
At this point, the ground was so steep that he was tempted to crawl up on all fours, and when he finally reached the top of the hill, his jaw dropped open. The map’s projection of the Kor didn’t do it justice. Vastness and presence were lost in translation. Down the crystal-spattered road led to magnificent, well-kept grounds that were littered with all walks of life. His eyes perused children at play, first years with proctors guiding them, to fourth years bouncing balls and tossing discs to one another. His survey continued to huge bolstering doors like that of a cathedral - the Kor’s entrance. Ornate, mysterious markings spread about the main tower and to either side, adding an allure to the titanic castle that made it appear enchanted. His eyes were then tugged to the left, to the Practical Wing, where thin vines wrapped all the way up the spire. Windows there periodically burst with radiance of all different colors. So much activity in that corner… he was drawn to it. That’s where he wanted to be.
He then swept his gaze past the center to the right, where glossy, pristine stone that rivaled the height of the Practical Wing stood tall. Though, this side could’ve been connected to a whole different castle entirely. Well-kept and prim, the Academic Wing appeared untouched, while the center fortification balanced it all out. Gothic, brooding, and undeniably the leading spire, darkened stone stretched higher than the two towers flanking it. The Elite Wing, where the best of the best was trained, and where anyone who made it past seventeen years of Kor got to reside.
Eres’ heart pumped loudly. Every second that went by pushed nervousness down into the pit of his belly, and gave rise to something new – longing.
This is how the other side lives… not in hiding, but in plain sight. All this time I could’ve been here, with others. I could’ve had friends. No, of course not, I had to read and study. Find adventures in books while I sat in my chair.
He pursed his lips.
Why did I have to be born an Obrun? How is that fair? Why do I have to be the one cursed?
Negative thoughts festered while his senses took in this utopia, almost to the point where he was about to turn around and forego the opportunity that his caretakers had gifted him. It was a mask, a lie. He didn’t belong, and so this stint would be temporary. A tease. But with all that, his actions spoke otherwise. When shock wore off, his legs began to carry him down the trail, slowly at first, but by the end of the hill he was sprinting for a chance to engage, a chance to be accepted. Onward to Kor Vinsánce.
Chapter 5
Meeting Day
Proctors’ heads began to turn as Eres passed through Kor grounds. A knitted brow of concern was the common expression, one that he was very much used to growing up. It made him wonder why it was happening again. He ran a finger down his face in worry, wondering if his makeup was coming off. Were his dull green T marks peeking through like a neon sign, to notify every one of the abomination that he was? Was it so obvious that he didn’t belong there, that he should be cast aside by the cruelty that his ooma had warned about?
A tall woman donned a half black, half purple cloak that was clasped by a long, curved crescent moon relic, stood tall after grasping a young child by the collar. She looked at Eres, locked eyes, and just as she was about to open her mouth to say something, he hurriedly tossed hair over his face and kept on.
She must be an academic proctor. Just ignore her… keep walking. Maybe I can blend in better when I find kids my own age.
He peeked over his shoulder to see that another child had pulled her attention from him. Not looking where he was going, a brief graze against another student’s arm brought back all of the aches that he was overlooking. Then he remembered his journey over – it had to be the fresh scratches and galaxies of bruises peeking through his torn wear that was turning heads. Even though it must’ve appeared as though he was a boy that fell from the sky and somehow got up, Eres thought nothing of it. He shrugged and walked on, ignoring the others and instead took a mental note of the perfectly green grass at his feet. Blades were uniform, up to his ankles, touching against tender skin on the bottom of his shin as he dragged his feet through. Kor Vinsánce was taller now that he was up close, much taller. It loomed, gazing down upon him like a huge stone god of many facets. But he wasn’t intimidated. On the contrary, he welcomed it, couldn’t wait to be admitted inside, to be part of something as opposed to hidden from everything.
Noticing that the kids were getting larger the further he rounded the academy’s walls, Eres felt more at ease, partially due to proctors having less of a presence, and mostly because the possibility of making a friend his own age was emerging. It wasn’t until his vision passed the enormous enclosure blocking the academy’s yard did he realize where he was meant to be. Two girls his age were sewing a hat stitched with shimmering gems, taking turns like it was some sort of intuitive ritual, gossiping all the way. A group of boys and girls stood in a circle, each with one heavy looking glove, passing around a ball that didn’t seem to be following any laws of physics that he understood. It bounced around, was backhanded and slapped as it moved, spinning in the air until someone caught it. A few cheered, before it was on the move again. But after a moment, Eres recollected from his studies what was happening. They were practicing the art of CMID – channeling a magnetized item’s direction. It looked fun, much like everything else that he laid eyes on.
After some time, Eres’ cheeks hurt from smiling, and his head felt dizzy from whirling every which way to see what others were doing. A boy and a girl sat with their faces inches from the dirt. Hands scurried to dig, and when the girl picked up her head with a long, slimy creature wriggling in her fingertips, the boy beside her clapped, while Eres winced.
“Weird,” he said a little too loudly before stepping over them.
There was so much variety here, kids of all shapes and sizes, all colors, but none shared the marks that he was hiding. Subconsciously, this hurt more than Eres could let on. He felt like an imposter, a freak, and knew that the first person he eventually spoke to would be experiencing a lie just by his mere presence.
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He kicked a pebble as he continued on, and then raised his gaze to something that caused all of the festering thoughts to suddenly go blank. A girl, far removed from the commotion, yet appearing content that there was company around, sat pleasantly under a dwarfed size tree. He nearly chuckled at how much it looked like an oversized umbrella protecting her from the suns, but as Eres scanned her face, her delicate features surrounded by a wave of flowing dark hair, his heart fluttered. Tingles prickled his insides like a live sparkler was kindled at the pit of his stomach. Other bodies faded from sight as he approached, a moth drawn to a flame, with every nerve in his body telling him to turn away. His mouth became suddenly dry and scratchy.
She was so intently flipping pages and scribbling notes onto her pad that two planted shoes and even more of a shadow washing over her went unrecognized. It gave Eres a chance to see what she was doing, maybe gather some thoughts rather than look like a fumbling idiot when she finally did look up. Eres peeked at the textbook she was sifting through, and could hardly believe anyone could make sense of the scribble - it looked like a bowl of spaghetti spilled over the page.
Eres again inched closer until finally finding the courage to speak. But when a strange sound in place of his voice left his mouth, he coughed to clear his throat, causing the rapid scribbling to cease and a pair of bright green eyes to slowly rise.
Now he wanted to crawl under a rock and die. What was worse than being unrecognized? Being judged. He didn’t know what to do with his hands all of a sudden. Were her eyes radiating heat or something? Because his cheeks felt hot.
Help.
“Hello,” she said pleasantly.
Eres’ lips curved inward to hide, reflecting what he wished he could do in this moment. It wasn’t until then that he realized the damages of being homeschooled. He had no idea how to react to anything – just what secrets to keep, what useless knowledge floating around in his head to pull, and nothing of how to interact.
“Are you new here? I’ve never seen you before.”
Eres nodded. “First time on Kor grounds,” he spoke more softly than he would’ve liked.
“Nice, isn’t it?” She waved a hand over the grass.
“Sie.”
“I’m Windel, year-seven, sixty forty academic to practical.”
“Eres… erm, year-seven too, but no idea what my split is.”
Her smile widened further before she motioned for him to sit. “You must be from half-way around the sphere. The only Kors I know of with no split are Tactun and Bluterious.”
Eres folded to the floor cross-legged, relieved that someone was welcoming him into this new world. Still, though, he felt insignificant. Boring. If only his story was as interesting as Windel’s imagination made it… he’d wished that it was, having half a mind to pretend that his father’s life was his own. Boundless, a Skrol, an adventurer, people would want to hear about that. Not an Obrun that was trapped in a cabin with nothing to show for his life.
Her head dipped slightly to see if anyone was home behind his head of silk. “Hmm?” she provoked.
After realizing he’d been staring blankly for longer than he should have, he blurted what his ooma told him to. “Oh, uhh, sorry… I was raised in an orphanage past Dolseir. That’s where I’ve been taught up to this point. Lame, right?”
She scoffed. “Plesus, I was raised by a sage. All I knew before I came to Kor was how to light incense and stare at trees.”
Eres suddenly became excited – it was as if she dove inside his mind and extracted his thoughts as her own. “Ugh, I’ve had my share of sage teachings. If I have to lay on the floor one more time to feel nature’s Reach, I might have to start banging my head against trees to forget.”
Windel dropped her pen and leaned back in laughter. Her shoulders shook lightly as she covered her mouth to suppress her giggle. “My thoughts exactly.”
This is nice, not being spoken down to or lectured. I can just be… me.
“So what brings you strolling down to Kor now, just visiting?”
“No. Hopefully I’m here to stay.”
Windel looked bashful, her eyes lowering to the textbook in her lap, but Eres was lost to it.
“What are all of those pipes underground that you’re studying?” He leaned in and pointed.
“Oh, I’m going to be a Carrier. My ratio flips to forty sixty next year… I can’t wait.”
Eres tilted his head, notably lacking information.
“They didn’t mention Carriers at your home school?” The blankness on his face begged her to go on. “Okay, well, since CMID became such a useful technology eras ago, all sorts of practical and recreational activities bloomed from it. One job, Carrier, is tasked with tracing specific underground passageways to ensure that product deliveries meet their destination.”
“The pipes are big enough to hold people?” He looked shocked.
She giggled again. “No! We would be crushed by the incoming and outgoing mail! Carriers stay above ground, using,” she flipped back a few pages in her textbook, “this.” Her powder blue nail traced a kettlebell shaped item that had lines shooting out from it, naming its parts. “It’s a tool call Doms. Their magnetic signature can be tuned to specific pipe trails, and can help move items along. We get special trackers and boots that help us glide across great lengths very fast. When terrorists tamper or stall packages, that’s where we come in.”
“Sounds intense.” Eres raised his eyebrows.
“I can’t wait. I hate reading, memorizing, studying,” she pretended to fall asleep just by saying the words, “but soon I’ll be spending the majority of my time doing the fun stuff.”
He wanted to ask more questions, learn everything about her, because that’s what he was used to doing, but she didn’t give him the chance.
“What about you, Eres? What do you want to do?”
He froze up. Was he allowed to say that he wanted to be a Skrol? Would that invoke queries that he wouldn’t be able to answer? Ooma didn’t say anything about that, so maybe it was alright.
“I… read a lot about Skrols growing up.” He omitted the fact that his father was a prominent one. “I wanted to be a protector of their secret since I was young, and inherit an esper of my own.”
“Yes, because you’re an old man now.”
They both fought to hold back smirks.
“That’s an even more dangerous life than the one I’m seeking. You know that, right?”
He nodded.
“And a lot of people think Skrols are chasing their tails, with hoax-y light-up rings, not even knowing the secret that they’re flying around to protect.”
Eres felt his face heat up with a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. “And what do you think?”
“Well… I would have believed the masses if my crazy mother hadn’t introduced me to one.”
“You met a Skrol?” He tried to pretend that he was shocked at such a rarity.
“Certainly! Umboro Skrols visit their supporters from time to time. My mom, having faith and all, tends to donate to supporters of the unknown. Anyway, the one I met had incredible presence. She was cool, humble, and knowing. When I was around her, all of my doubt went away, and only some of it came back when she was gone.”
“Well, I’ve only read about them,” he lied. “But you’re just adding fuel to my fire.” He pulled a saying from one of his books.
“I like that! Fuel to the fire.”
“Wish I could take the credit. It’s from Bane’s Wrath.” Eres shrugged.
“Oooh, a Son Velor fan. Very cool, he’s a great author. I have a feeling you’re going to wind up having a tipped scale in favor of academia.”
“I think I’ve had enough books for one lifetime… not much practical knowledge where I come from.”
She clapped her tome shut and suddenly got to her feet with one hand clenched around Eres’ arm. “C’mon then. Let’s introduce you to some people and get you a syllabus so we can start figuring out where your hear
t lies.”
Eres heard the words, but he wasn’t sure if his heart was even beating at this point. Everywhere around it became weak and tingly like his body had just shut off. He didn’t know what this feeling was, but it was intoxicating, nice, and he felt himself wanting to be around this girl as much as he could. Love stories were part of many novels resting on his shelves back at home, and it made him wonder if the sparks and chemistry he’d read about between those men and women were the same. Maybe he was more boyish after all. Perhaps his father was right.
“Hello? Ingora to Eres…”
“Sorry Windel, I… got lost for a second.”
She released her grasp on his arm and placed a long lock of hair behind her ear. “Don’t apologize to me. My friends call me Windy, by the way.”
So this is what it was to have a friend, and this is what it was to have a crush. He took a mental snapshot of her bow-shaped lips that drew back when she smiled, round green eyes that sparkled like the forest, and small nose that wrinkled when she spoke.
Just then, Eres felt two hands on his shoulders and before he knew it, was thrust forward, head jerking back, feet taking small steps to catch himself before abruptly tripping and stumbling over.
“What in Bura was that for?” Windel turned and stepped to the boy who held a satisfied smirk on his face.
He spat and moved her out of his way with one hand. “At first glance, I thought this thing was a girl. So dainty and frail. Don’t you know, Windel? I have to toughen this kid up if he’s going to survive here.”
