Rebellion

by CM Raymond

  “What’d I miss?” Hannah said as she bounded into the room, Sal at her heels.

  When out on the streets, her strawberry blond curls and sapphire eyes were always held in place by her mental magic. But she would let them drop as soon as she returned. The woman standing in front of him—brunette with deep brown eyes—was no less beautiful.

  Gregory, glad for the interruption, said, “Nothing, really. We were just getting ready to start!”

  “Thank the Bitch and the Bastard.” Hannah sighed. “I am so damn tired of dicking around at the Academy.”

  Ezekiel laughed. “You can take the girl out of the Boulevard, but you can never take the Boulevard out of the girl.”

  “Ha! Maddie’s been trying for weeks, but it just won’t stick,” Hannah said. “I might be able to fake it, but I guess I’m a girl from the Boulevard for life. So, what are we working on today?” She looked around the room for props that would indicate some form of physical spell, but it was mostly empty. Which meant only one thing—they would be training in the mystic arts.

  Gregory also knew what to expect, and he didn’t like it. He had spent his entire life growing up around physical magic. Even though it rarely worked, it was familiar to him at least. He knew the movements by heart. But the magic of the mystics was completely foreign—a new world he never expected to exist in. Theoretically, the new world wasn’t altogether different from the world that he knew already. But again, theory could only take him so far.

  Ezekiel looked at Gregory, knowing that Hannah already had the basics.

  “All of our magic, it comes from the etheric realm,” Ezekiel began. “And we are able to access it due to the power running through our blood. The same power that the Matriarch and the Patriarch possessed.”

  Gregory tilted his head. “I’ve been curious about that. I know that our magic is related to what caused the Age of Madness. So, doesn’t that mean that madness was as much the Matriarch’s gift as was magic? I don’t mean to be irreverent, but it kind of seems like they screwed up.”

  Ezekiel smiled. “That is an excellent question. The short answer is, Bethany Anne and Michael, the Matriarch and Patriarch, gave humanity an excellent opportunity. It was humanity who screwed it up so royally. If anyone is to blame for the Madness that ravaged our world, it is not them.”

  Gregory nodded. It made sense, although there were still gaps in his knowledge. He decided to press on, hoping to find more answers. “So, what’s the long answer?” he asked.

  “The long answer is a history lesson for another time,” Ezekiel said. “And there is one who is far better than I at telling it... perhaps you will meet her one day. But for now, we have some more present needs to attend to. Hannah, we’ll start with you. Ultimately, the next major step that I want you working toward is mystical travel.”

  “Like when you showed up in Arcadia and messed Adrien over with your hologram shit?” Hannah asked.

  “Half of that, actually,” Ezekiel said. “Those were two different castings combined into one, but you are not quite ready for that. It takes maturity and a level of concentration you have yet to attain. It would be better if Hadley was here. Julianne says that he is one of the best when it comes to astral projection.”

  “His concentration is pretty good—when he’s got something worth focusing on,” Hannah said, remembering the vision of Hadley that surprised her when she first arrived at the Heights. He had projected an image of himself into her room when she was standing there, dripping wet and buck-ass naked. Slight color rose to her cheeks. “Although, I would say he’s far from mature.”

  As they spoke of Hadley, Gregory noticed a faint smile cross Hannah’s face. He knew that she was fond of the mystic, and Gregory couldn’t help but wonder what that meant for her relationship with Parker. For a moment, Gregory realized he had been spared by not having to worry about being carried away by romance.

  Ezekiel continued. “Today we will work just on your mind’s travel—it will allow you to see distant places, and it is far safer than teleporting. But we’ll hold off on projection for now. It will take months, if not years before you are able to project your form into someone else’s mind.

  We’ll see about that, Hannah thought. If Hadley can do it, I can.

  Ezekiel nodded. “Confident, huh?”

  Hannah flushed and remembered that nothing was safe during their mystical training—just like in the temple.

  Ezekiel pulled a box big enough to hold a loaf of bread off the floor and placed it on the table they were gathered around. “What’s inside?” he asked.

  Hannah reached for it, and Ezekiel grabbed her hand. Tapping his temple, he said, “No, with this.”

  Nodding, the girl stared at the box.

  “Thought we were traveling?”

  “You are,” Ezekiel said. “But you’re a long way from amongst the stars. Start by looking inside the box with your mind.”

  “So, you want her to think inside the box?” Gregory said with a smirk.

  They both turned and stared at him without expression.

  “And you wonder why you don’t have friends,” Hannah finally said with a wink.

  Turning her attention back to the box, she stared at it, pushing all thought out of her head. Whenever she learned a new magical gift, a new way to cast, she had to remember that they were all ultimately the same, fundamentally attached to each other.

  Zeke’s voice was calm. “That’s right. Force out all thought. Forget your pain, your fear, your hopes. Then, when your mind is empty, when it is unburdened, let it float away.

  She closed her eyes and directed her magic at the cube. She left the lightness Ezekiel was describing, the freedom of mind. Its absence called to be filled, and a word came to her mind. She spoke it with confidence. Although it was gibberish, she knew what the word meant. She opened her eyes, and the room was gone. All was dark as if she were miles below the surface of the world. Blinking her red, glowing eyes, she came back to the room with a gasp.

  Her mind felt the wear of having cast, which made no sense. “What the hell was that? It was all dark, like I was somewhere, but nowhere.”

  Ezekiel grinned and looked at Gregory.

  “It means you were successful,” the young noble said. “But the box is closed. Your mind was inside the box…”

  “Good, Gregory.” Ezekiel patted him on the shoulder and then placed a hand on the box. “Now, let me shed some light on the situation.”

  He placed a finger on the wooden box and it began to glow. He nodded to his student.

  “Again!”

  ****

  “Your turn,” Ezekiel said, turning to Gregory. He had spent the last hour watching Hannah stretch her mind, and now it was on him to do the same. “We will start easy—no projection today. Why don’t you sit down across from Hannah? Let’s see if you can enter your friend’s mind.”

  Gregory shifted in his chair as he stared into the girl’s deep brown eyes. Without turning his gaze, he asked, “This is easy?”

  Ezekiel nodded. “It will be, only because she is exhausted from casting and willing to open herself to you. In the right conditions, forming a bond like this is as simple as shaking hands. In the wrong conditions, this kind of mental magic can be difficult, not to mention dangerous.”

  “Great,” Gregory said. “No pressure.”

  Hannah reached out and grabbed his hand. “You’ll do great. I won’t bite; I promise.”

  Gregory began to focus while Ezekiel kept talking. “You’ve spent your life around physical magic—you know how it works. Remember, just like you said, these are ultimately the same. Focus your power, just like you would when making a fireball.”

  “Never been good at fireballs.” Gregory looked down at the table, embarrassed for his inability.

  Ezekiel stood over him. “Magic hasn’t blown you up yet, which is a good sign. This means you can control it enough to not have it injure you. That’s the first step. But since physical magic is causing you such
problems, I couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps you’re trying to master the wrong art. You might have a propensity for another.”

  Gregory nodded. He did have a propensity, and he knew it. It wasn’t for one of the crafts of casting, but instead, it was for building. And there was nothing he wanted to do at that moment more than getting to his workshop that he had set up within the mansion and work on a project that he had imagined for weeks. But the Founder knew best, and Gregory relented, turning back to Hannah.

  “Okay. I’ll try.”

  Gregory stared into Hannah’s eyes. The rest of her face was still like stone. She could’ve been a statue made in the likeness of the most beautiful girl in all of Irth. He tried to pull himself from thinking about her beauty and focused just on her eyes. For the first time, he realized that her deep brown eyes had flecks of hazel that danced around her pupils. He had never seen anything like it, but he also never gazed longingly into another’s eyes before.

  Knowing that he had to separate himself from the thought about the girl to enter into the thoughts of the girl, he set aside the beauty of her gaze and concentrated. Before he knew it, a word slipped between his lips, and his mind came alive.

  You can do this!

  It was Hannah’s voice, but inside of his head. It was exhilarating—like nothing he had ever experienced.

  Holy shit, he thought, and in response, she smiled.

  Gregory’s eyes dropped to that perfect smile and the way it paired proportionally with the beauty of her eyes. He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  Thank you, Hannah whispered in his head. I’m flattered.

  A sick feeling overcame him as he realized the door into her mind went both ways. The thought snapped him out of the trance, and he stood, knocking over his chair. “I’ve gotta…”

  But he couldn’t finish. Gregory turned and shot for the door. His face was on fire. The embarrassment was too great, and he thought that he would never be able to face her again.

  “Gregory wait!” Hannah called after him, but he was already gone.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The sun had settled about an hour ago, and a cool wind swept across the valley. Parker dropped another handful of branches next to the fire and eased down onto a log that was as comfortable as he was likely to find out here. He was sore all over from the battle and the miles they pulled today, trying to put as much distance between them and the bodies as possible. Karl was making good on another promise, and Parker had no desire to see the two men and woman devoured by vultures.

  When they stopped to rest by a cool stream, Parker washed his hands until they were blue. They still didn’t feel quite clean.

  As he sat on the log and stared into the fire, he tried to get the man’s burning face out of his mind—although, he knew he’d probably see it tonight in his sleep. He looked up at Karl who was working on their dinner. The rearick was whistling.

  “How did you get used to it?” Parker asked, breaking the silence.

  “Used to what, lad?”

  “Killing.”

  Karl turned the meat on the pan and sat up. “You never do get used to it, not really. But you remind yourself that it was either you or them. And then you try your best to keep on.”

  “It just seems so easy to you,” Parker said. “I mean, no offense, but I saw those bodies. You smashed that woman’s chest in. And that guy… Well… how do you stomach it?”

  Karl sighed. “First of all, when you’ve got a weapon in yer hand and you’re facing down someone else’s weapon, there are no men or women. Just people ready to cut you open. And make no mistake, that woman would have cut you to pieces and enjoyed it every bit as much as the men who were with her.”

  Parker thought of Alexandra, the woman who smiled for hours as she tortured him. He thought of Hannah, the way she looked after destroying the men who killed her brother. He shook his head. The rearick was right. Parker would rather face a man like the one he killed than a woman like Hannah any day.

  Karl was still talking. “And secondly, you stomach it because you have to. You’d be amazed what people can learn to stomach when their life is on the line. Or the life of those they love… I look at you, Parker, and sometimes I forget how young you are. But when you’ve been around as long as I have—and I intend to train you well enough so that you make it that long—you learn that there is bad in the world, evil as cruel as hot steel. And it takes a heart of stone to be able to bare it. But bare it you must. That’s the world, the real world. And it’s a world yer gonna see before this is all over. Trust me, if you stick with Hannah, her road forward ain’t covered with roses. I mean, you, Hannah, and the rest of em from the Boulevard—you’ve been in the shit. Seen a lot in that damned city and done a lot, too, I imagine. But Arcadia only scratches the surface. You don’t know what Irth is really like. You don’t know what I know.”

  Karl went quiet, lost in thought while staring at the flames. Once again, Parker wished he could pry into the rearick’s eyes. See what he’d seen.

  Parker decided to give it a try.

  “I’m listening. Why don’t you try and teach me?”

  Karl cocked his head, then reached into his sack. Pulling out a leather skin, he uncorked it and took a long slug, wincing as the hard liquor burned its way down to his gut. “This kind of story takes some verbal lubrication.”

  Parker smiled. “Might take some listening lubrication, too.”

  Karl snorted and handed the drink over to Parker. The two then passed it back and forth, enjoying the heat from the fire and the booze.

  “I grew up in the Heights,” Karl began. “Lived nearly seventeen years before I left those blessed peaks. We were miners back then, too. Things were tough, but we could dig a life out of those rocks. Arcadia was still young at that time. They came for ores, and the tools, and weapons we could make with them. They even traded for the gemstones we could find, but to this day I couldn’t care less about em. We didn’t have a very complex system in those days. Mostly they bartered their food for our rocks.

  “It took years for the Arcadians to realize that the amphoralds—the less attractive stones we were pitching over the cliffs—were useful for storing their magic. Them bastards kept it quiet for a while, said they’d take em off our hands. Scheisse, those damn lowlanders would take advantage of their mums if it could make em some coin.”

  “Hey,” Parker spat.

  “Hey nothing. I know what you did before becoming a righteous crusader. Maybe not your mom, but it was somebody’s mom you and Hannah were scamming back then.” Karl sucked on the wineskin again. “But even con men like you couldn’t keep us in the dark forever. Once they were wanting more and more of the precious rubble, we finally caught on.”

  While they talked, the food was ready. Karl served Parker a plate of meat, sliding a potato on to accompany it. Then he continued his story. “Things got good then—really good. We rearick were living large. But eventually, the remnant, the old mad ones who had retreated to the east, started to emerge again. Just a few sightings at first, and then more and more they started attacking villages at the base of the Heights—a few even made it up to Craigston. Can you imagine?”

  He stopped to eat for a few minutes, leaving Parker to anticipate what was to come.

  “We could read the writing on the wall. The bastards would eventually crawl their mind-numbed asses up to our place in force, so we knew it was time to take the battle to them. No more waiting around. The old-timers had fought tooth and nail to push those bastards out of the valley. But they didn’t finish the job. So, somebody had to.”