by Marc Mulero
Wudon’s defense fell with Crow’s cut, and through it came a set of bright blue scolding eyes that spoke to the boy’s growing angst. Another wall arose and was cut down within the same instant. And then a third, sliced brightly by Crule to weaken its foundation – still standing, until Crow shouldered through it to find his proctor strafing out of sight, disappearing behind more Reach-made obstacles.
“I’ve got you now!” Crow sneered the next time Wudon dashed back and, instead of following through, this time he feigned his attack, pulling back at the last second and snapping his off-hand fingers to ignite three flames on the branches behind his opponent. The flares cycled together – an impressive display of Reach - making the air of the entire arena feel hot. Then, as if an explosion erupted, the inferno engulfed Wudon’s back.
A collective gasp sounded, once for Crow’s triumph, and again when Wudon emerged from the embers with icy blue air spewing from him. The fire immediately suffocated and tiny snowflakes blanketed his circumference.
The orphan’s face dropped in disbelief. His breathing was strained from exhaustion. He was sure that his tactic would’ve at least set the proctor up to be struck, but nothing. And when Wudon took his first offensive step forward, Crow experienced fear for the first time in that torium. He had to gather himself though, for an audience was watching after all. To be laughed at again, like on Meeting Day when his attack on Eres had backfired with Nuganzia’s interference, was unacceptable.
A hard limp forward made Wudon’s chain jangle with every step, the ground swelling beneath his boots. It was haunting. And to make matters worse, the living ground began to form slowly up his back, looking like demonic wings made of vine and stick. His first lunge toward Crow stopped abruptly with his body twisting toward the class, his enormous wing swooping to knock the boy down. Crow could have rolled out of harm’s way, but instead decided to hold his ground, and with an overhead swing of blazing Crule, he dismembered the conjured extension, its pieces landing with a heavy thud and then dispersing back into the creeping floor. The proctor’s second wing fell in similar fashion, leaving Crow to find his confidence again, until Wudon appeared in front of him without warning.
The abrupt momentum shift caused Wudon’s heavy chain to fall out from his robes and immediately, Eres’ breath caught in his chest… there was a glowing black esper at the end of it, one that was tucked immediately back into its home. The split second was enough, though. Eres looked up at Joodah, who exchanged the same glance, his face saying, “What the heck was that?”
It’s him. I’m sure of it. Proctor Wudon is a Skrol, my father’s ‘eye’. My protector…
Eres’ thoughts were interrupted by Crow’s battle shouts. He looked up just in time to see Wudon position himself, offering his chest to his opponent’s blade. Nothing but the ring of Arkinite steel against Glite armor sounded. With strength Crow didn’t know the proctor possessed, he twisted the orphan’s wrist so the blade would tumble from his grasp and backhanded him to the floor.
Eres bit his lip with joy. To see his daydream come to fruition was incredibly satisfying, and to know that the order of protection had come from his father himself compounded the ecstasy.
“You’ve expended your Crule.” Wudon looked down upon him in a menacing way.
Eres’ gleaming face was pulled into a frown when he saw Crow’s legs kicking to inch away on his back. The proctor pressed the weight of his boot down on the boy’s wrist to drive home his point. He eyed him, like a bird of prey wondering if the boy was going to die.
Maybe he’s not ‘the eye’… could he be another part of the Silent War that I know nothing of? Maybe there is still cause to fear him.
“Weapons Master Sturn taught you how to wield a blade with poise. However, he did not push you hard enough. For if he did, you would know how to combat in distress against opponents you do not yet understand. You would think calmly and know when to hold your aces.” He turned to face the class. “Let that be a lesson to all of you. Now you’ve seen a snippet of what Reach has to offer in battle. Become the wiser for it.”
Crow was fuming internally as he dusted off his borrowed Glite armor.
Wudon narrowed his eyes. “Make no mistake, Crow. You are the best Practical student here, but if you fail to master your demons in the near term, you will become nothing.”
The rest of the crowd moved back slightly, feeling the sting of their proctor’s words. Even the other participants were now certain that they were, in fact, second class in Wudon’s torium. Perhaps the proctor meant to challenge their esteem, to push them. Or maybe he didn’t care at all. One thing was certain, though: There was one proctor who stood out among the rest, and that was Wudon.
He nudged Crow to get him walking back to his peers and then faced them all. “This concludes our lessons within this torium but for the closing trial, which will occur three half-moons from this evening. When you all first walked in here, this arena barely twitched at your presence. Tonight, it applauds. Dismissed.”
Joodah bent down to his friend’s level when they were given the okay to speak. “That was incredible, even better than the ceremony.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” Eres said with a hint of jealousy toward the orphan who got to participate.
“Fire, ice, earthy wings, Crule… what a rush! And you saw it, I know you did… Proctor Wudon has an…” He turned away to make sure no one was looking.
“Esper,” Eres said it for him. “He’s full of surprises.”
“Yes, he is.”
They both peered at the limping man creating a thorny throne for himself once more.
“Hey listen.” Joodah slapped Eres’ back lightly. “I can’t thank you enough, man, for getting me in here. It’s all I’ve wanted for years, since I arrived here at Kor. I would’ve been rejected again if not for your crash course. Doesn’t matter how many books I read on this stuff… everything he always asked me was this esoteric hand-me-down native Umboro jargon. I was starting to think he just didn’t like me because I was an Eplon. So really, Eres, thank you.”
“Please. Don’t mention it. I would’ve got my ass handed to me every night here if you weren’t around. Let’s call it even.” Eres held up a fist for a bump.
Joo touched knuckles and turned for the unfastening doors. “Coming?”
“Nah, I’m going to hang back. Catch you tomorrow.”
“’Till then, brother.”
Eres smiled and nodded, then did a prompt about-face once the coast was clear. He walked hesitantly to the proctor who had parchment inches from his face.
“What is it, boy?” Wudon was still grazing the page.
Eres considered being blunt and declaring outright that he was his father’s ‘eye’, or accuse him of being against the Skrols, but either of those approaches could’ve hurt him one way or the other. Instead, he opted for an inquiry.
“How can your esper shine if you’re here with us? No one can be two places at once.”
Wudon’s eyes abruptly stopped scanning the page, his jaw tightened, hand dramatically dropped to his side.
Eres wanted to take a step back out of fear. Had he said something wrong? But when the light strangely returned to Wudon’s dull eye, he froze in place.
“I’ve observed you here many times, boy, even though your mind is often elsewhere. ‘No one can be two places at once,’ hmph, such an absolute statement only tells me that you don’t even understand yourself,” Wudon challenged.
“That might be true, proctor, but may I request that you answer my question?”
“Everyone is right about you, you know.”
Eres opened his mouth to speak, but closed it without uttering a word.
Wudon rose slowly and stepped closer to Eres, this time without a limp. His back was suddenly less hunched, the outlines of age on his face somewhat reversed. “You are curious and bold. It makes up for your lack of talent in some ways.”
“Sir?” Eres spoke, inching backward.
Wudo
n burst open his hand and created the same orb of visible matter around them that Agden had the last he visited.
“An air pocket.” Eres looked around him like the world was closing in, now sure that something was about to happen that no one else would be able to hear. He grabbed his impeller at his back.
“Drop your hand, boy. Listen.”
Eres thought back to the duel he’d just witnessed, and after a brief staring contest, did what he was told.
“My esper glows because I must always be watching it. But your keenness has awarded you my full attention.”
“So you’re an addict like the others,” Eres responded plainly.
Wudon laughed for the first time, making the boy want to crawl out of his skin. “No, you fool. I am a Skrol as you have suspected, and I house the Dark esper. The most wicked aspect of this fragmented secret is my burden. And I must stay within its dark path so it never gets the better of me.”
“I… don’t understand.”
“Of course not. There’s so much you don’t know, but one day you will inherit Lorfa’s and Agden’s espers and all will become clear.”
Eres let go of his breath. It was true, now confirmed. “You are his ‘eye’.”
“I am. Your father and I have been crusaders in the Silent War for some time. I would give my life for him, or in this case, even keep watch over his little brat.”
They both grinned.
“I’m glad it’s you, sir. I have so many questions.”
“For your father to answer, if he chooses. Understand this - the Silent War is named such for a reason. There are eyes and ears everywhere, and little can be understood without being in the thick of it. You are too young for war, Eres Dawn, so accept your protectors and continue accumulating knowledge so that one day, perhaps, you can achieve what you seek.”
“I will be a Skrol, proctor.”
“We will see if you still want it, in time.” With Wudon’s closing words, the air pocket phased outward, his chest glowed with a neon blackness, and his left eye became dull once more. The older man that Eres feared had returned, snarl and all.
“It’s not all impellers, Crule, and Reach. The journey is long. Come to my quarters again in a half-moon. I will have then consulted with whom I must to decide what you can know. Dismissed.”
Ere glanced up at the man who looked like he was now swirling in darkness. “Thank you, Proctor Wudon.”
Chapter 13
Claws of the Enemy
Eres peered back at the candlelit Kor Vinsánce. Stars glimmered above it through a foggy haze. Thin clouds teetered over the ground, standing vertically like lightning bolts frozen in time. Amidst it all, his gaze was stuck on Wudon’s bright eye watching from the window. The old wraith draped in the deepest black would’ve made the castle appear haunted had Eres not heard him mutter his relative’s names. But now he felt safer than he ever did, knowing that his father’s ‘eye’ was a powerful proctor. With a confident smile he turned away, feeling less alone in the darkness.
His familiar path was lit by the moon’s light. A brisk breeze and a mind full of questions made him consider keeping his impeller in his bag and instead use the journey to work everything out in his mind.
Is it like daydreaming? Does he navigate in and out of his esper to keep watch on the darkness within it? I wonder what type of lineages are stuck in there with him. It must be aging him to harbor it all. Eres kicked pebbles along the way as he spoke to the air.
On and on he spoke to himself, until he heard the rustling of the nearby shrubbery. Eres jerked his head to see a uemon shadow dart out of sight. His whole body tensed. For a moment he stood still like a fansa caught in light, telling himself he was crazy until he finally eased up.
“Nothing, just jovos scavenging for their midnight snack,” he told himself.
After a stretch of Eres looking over his shoulder every few minutes, another bush shook fiercely. Something was watching him… but what? The forest already knew his presence from a short lifetime of playing in it.
A minute of staring blankly into the night made him wonder if his mind was playing tricks, until little owins began marching clumsily out of their bushes again to greet him. He thought back to his ooma’s excitement when he told her about his experience with them.
She took it as a sign when I told her about the first time the owins came to me. A sign that I have Reach even though I’ve failed to show her anything else. But here they are again… and I feel nothing. Nothing at all. Wudon told me that the sensation I felt in his torium, when I flickered the flame, was a sign of Reach. Where is it now if the owins are coming to me?
His brow furrowed, an epiphany trying to break through to the front of his mind.
There has to be Reach here for the animals to leave Dolseir… but it’s not mine. It’s not me. Someone is tracking me!
Eres clicked his impeller and hopped over the chubby creatures - many sets of round eyes struggling to look up and see where the boy was going. He hit the ground running straight into the forest, where he saw a shadow weaving around living obstacles. Whatever it was, whoever it was, was limber. But so was he.
Another short burst shot him in the direction he expected the shadow to take. Before Eres could hit the ground, he blasted himself sideways to continue the pursuit. He heard the tapping of footsteps under him as whoever it was pivoted and changed directions. Spinning mid-air and pushing hard off of his heel, Eres pushed forward on foot.
Thinking back to when Mun noticed something concealing the marks on his face, he wondered if it was the Dagos on all fours, keeping an eye.
His ear caught more rustling to his right, so he dashed the other way, seeing two feet for the briefest second, unwinding the suspicion that it was his old friend.
Joodah, my giant body guard of a friend. Maybe playing a trick on me? No… the shadow was too small to be his.
Eres’ heart was thumping like he was preying on an animal and was seconds before the kill. No one knew how to weave within the forest as well as he did. It was just a matter of time.
Butterflies tickled his stomach when his next thought entered – Windel. Could she have held on, after all this time?
Then the considerations became dark – Maybe she’s spying on me. Of course, it could be her. She wants to know more about my family. Even if she knows to keep quiet now, she’s probably here because that gossiping know-it-all needs to find out more.
With a clenched jaw, Eres sped up, dashing forward like a ninja. He smirked, knowing that an opening within the crowded forest was approaching – an arena of unimpeded flatland amongst umbrellas of half-naked trees were about to surround them. Once he saw the opening ahead of him, he adjusted his impeller’s dial and contorted to slide through the branches untouched, and landed just ten feet away from whoever it was he was pursuing.
“Stop!” Eres demanded.
His voice was so close that the shadow obeyed, arms spread like it was balancing on a tightrope, head dipped like it was ducking a projectile coming his way. Then it straightened into a familiar posture of arrogance and turned to show that it was in control.
Bright blue eyes shined within the blade of moonlight that he stepped into.
Crow, of course. So obvious that I hadn’t even considered it. The one who’s been tampering with my life since I stepped foot in Kor.
“I’m surprised it took you so long.” Crow sneered. “Oh that’s right, you’re a liar! See, if you were truly an orphan, you would know that in our houses no one cares if you come home. In fact, it’s better if you don’t – less food that house mothers have to ration.” He laughed to himself.
Eres’ thoughts were rushing faster than ever before. He contemplated all the other times he could’ve sworn the forest was watching. The owins, the fansas randomly hopping away from the outskirts of Dolseir as he walked by – it was all him, it was all Crow, using his Reach to misdirect him. Then the final epiphany came:
“It was you.” Eres’ voice was full of
seething hate. “You leaked my impeller to the PAs. Sans scum! Ulmacht!” he cursed in Umboro.
I lost everything because of him. Windel… I threw her away like she was garbage. Crow knew, he saw us together. That’s why he did it. It must be.
Crow clapped as he took another step into the light. “Right again, my dense peer. You see, you hadn’t earned your rights in Kor. You thought you could simply prance into our castle and dine with us without climbing through the years.”
Eres took a step closer, seeing more red as the seconds passed. “You’re the only one who thinks that way! You were just jealous,” his voice lowered menacingly, “because Windel took a liking to me. You’ve denied it before, but I know it’s true.”
The orphan smiled back like he knew something Eres didn’t. “Our lost little boy. I wonder though, where did you get that impeller? Someone with more Reach than me doesn’t allow me to follow you all the way home. What are you hiding, Eres?”
Eres was done talking. His breathing was erratic, his impeller at his back. He was about to pop.
“Oh, I know! Windel must have been given the tour. I saw you two frolicking to wherever it is that you go. I’m sure she’ll tell me everything.”
Eres let the strap of his bag slide off his shoulder, claiming only the blunt sparring weapon before the rest of the contents fell to the floor. A flick of his wrist extended the dull blade to a more intimidating size, and with a burst of wind at his back, he exploded toward the one who deserved his rage. Crow flew backward without moving his legs over a mound of dirt that ripped through the forest. With a wave of his hand, roots the width of trees shot out from the ground, snaking and re-submerging like worms.
Eres didn’t have time or patience to think, so instead he activated his impeller, over and over again. His first burst sent him diagonal, just out of the way of a huge trunk of viny bark that would’ve buried him had he not dodged. Before he could touch ground, another spurt sent him under an archway that the nosediving tree left in its wake, and a final gust sent him arcing over it all to gain clear sight of his enemy above the weeds.
