It took a lot of coaxing, but after the first couple of weeks Qyxal was able to get Justan to take part in the fun. Even though Justan had started out looking at the card-playing students with scorn, he found himself thoroughly enjoying the game. It was full of complex strategy and the random nature of the game made it a new experience every time.
It didn’t take long before he realized that he had a knack for it. Justan was able to look at the people around the table and tell how good their hand was by their facial expressions and physical stance. Justan found that if he added up all of the information he accumulated from around the table, he could look at his own hand and make a good decision as to how many tricks he could take.
In his first tournament, he made it to the third round. In his second, he made it to the semifinals. Soon, he had almost mastered the game and made it to the final match two weeks in a row.
As the newness of the game of Elements wore off, Justan began to look past the simple joy of playing and pondered the things that Qyxal had hinted at when he first taught him how to play. There was supposed to be something more to the game beyond simple luck and strategy.
The week before the new cadets arrived, Justan won his first tournament.
It was the final tournament of the year and just before he received his trophy, the winner of the big year-end prize was announced. Justan watched a mage named Alurik take home the big prize. He grew determined that the Grand Trophy would be his the next year.
After Justan claimed his prize, Master Latva took him aside and requested that he take his free day on the day that the new cadets came in. It was the last real day of the school year and the wizards that would normally be tutoring him would have enough things to do while preparing for the new students anyway. Justan agreed. That day was as good as any, especially if he wasn’t going to miss anything important.
He received congratulations and a pat on the back from just about every student in the school and he walked back to his dormitory room with a smile. Halfway there, he stopped and looked down, realizing that he was clutching the trophy to his chest like a prized possession.
Justan laughed out loud at himself, surprising the other students who were walking by on the way to their rooms. Somehow he was getting sucked in to the whole MageSchool atmosphere. It had come to a point lately where he had to force himself to run and practice in the morning. Justan was looking forward to every class and didn’t want to go to bed at night because every hour that he was asleep was time wasted. A couple of days prior, he had even considered leaving the Jharro Bow in his room just because it seemed to get in the way when he was studying.
How had his priorities become so askew? He wasn’t a true MageSchool student, he was a warrior. He needed to extend his morning run and practice harder. In addition, he would carry a small brace of arrows under his robes. If the Jharro bow slung over his shoulder wasn’t enough of a reminder of who he was, a brace of arrows digging in his side would definitely keep him from forgetting. The MageSchool was nothing more than a brief stopping place on his way to becoming a great warrior.
Justan started to open the door to his room when he noticed that it was already cracked open. He sighed and shook his head. Would Piledon never give up? He reached above the door to grab the bucket that was resting on top of the jam. It was filled with a noxious fluid. He sat it to the side, then switched to his mage sight and scanned the room for any magical pranks. When he didn’t see any, he lifted the bucket back up and placed it back where Piledon had left it.
A constant battle had been raging between the two roommates since Justan's arrival. Piledon seemed to try something new just about once a week. Fortunately, Justan had not been joking when he told Qyxal that he had a lot of experience with pranksters. He had fallen for just about every prank that the other trainees could think of during his years at the Training School.
For all of Piledon’s reputation, the cadet really didn’t know anything new. He just used variations of the same old tricks that all the pranksters used. Justan had finally given in and started teaching the man new ones the hard way.
He had hoped that after a few mornings waking up in the grass outside the dorm or having his hand dipped in warm water, Piledon would realize that he was taking on too much and leave Justan alone. But the cadet seemed to enjoy being the fool just as much as making someone else the fool, He kept on with his attempts at tricking Justan.
When they weren’t mid-prank, the two roommates were civil to each other. Piledon quickly learned to keep his mess out of Justan’s side of the room and leave Justan’s things alone, while Justan didn’t get after Piledon to clean his side of the room or even complain when he came in late at night.
Justan changed into the simple underclothes that he had taken to wearing at night and put his Elements trophy on the back of his desk. It looked lonely. He wondered how many more he could fit there. He shook his head. If he was going to win the Grand Trophy, he was going to need more space.
He had one last task to perform in the room and then he got in bed.
He cleared his mind and searched inside himself to find the bundle of intelligence that was Gwyrtha. As always, she greeted him happily. The ability of the two friends to communicate had improved greatly with time and as Justan was better able to communicate with her, she now understood most of what he was saying.
Gwyrtha had begun doing something disconcerting the last couple of days. She had been pleading for him to let her come and visit. Justan didn’t know what was causing this, but every night she was getting increasingly insistent.
As he had the last few nights Justan sent feelings of calm and love through the bond and tried to explain in sounds and images that she needed to stay with the elves until he could return and retrieve her. If she came too close to the school, the wizards might find her and then Justan didn’t know what would happen. Gwyrtha only acquiesced with great reluctance and Justan worried that he wouldn’t be able to hold her back for long.
As he released their link back to the recesses of his mind, Justan heard a shuffling outside the room. He pretended to be asleep as Piledon reached above the door to remove the bucket. The man was learning. Justan waited to see just how much he had learned. Piledon snickered as he thought he had thwarted Justan’s attempt to use his own trick against him. Then he unceremoniously dumped his clothes on the floor and climbed naked into bed, as was his custom.
Justan struggled not to laugh as he heard his roommate shift around in his bed. Then there was more movement and a couple of frustrated grunts. Justan couldn’t help but smile as with a yelp, Piledon leapt out of his bed, scratching madly all over his body.
As Piledon ran out of the room towards the baths hopping and scratching madly the whole way, Justan rolled onto his back, placed his hands behind his head, and smiled. He had thought it would be difficult to convince Professor Smythe to help him produce the itching powder, but as soon as Justan had told him whom it was for, the wizard had happily obliged. It seems that Piledon had played a couple of tricks on the professor in the past as well. It wasn’t good to make enemies with a chemistry expert.
Life at the MageSchool was getting more and more fun every day.
The morning that the new cadets came into the school, Justan awoke a little over an hour earlier than usual. This was his free day and he had a lot that he wanted to get accomplished. He strapped the brace of arrows around his waist and then put on his robes. He didn’t bother going through all of the rest of his regular grooming, but ran out of the door with his dagger strapped on and his bow slung across his back.
His roommate wasn’t in the room and Justan wondered if he had even come in the night before. Well, it didn’t matter. Piledon had stayed out all night several times in the past. Justan had long ago decided that what the other student did outside of their shared room was none of his business.
It was still dark outside as Justan left the cadet dormitory. The only light came from the lamps at the center of the school. He ran
towards the guard barracks with his practice clothes in hand, eager to get his exercise over with so that he could get started on his studies. This early in the morning, no one else was about. Even the people that normally ran with him wouldn’t be up for another hour, so Justan was surprised to hear voices by the women’s building.
There were quite a few female students at the school, though there were not nearly as many as there were men. The women had one building where all the cadets, apprentices, and mages were housed, while the wizardesses had their own faculty lodging in the RuneTower.
The two voices Justan heard were female and male, which piqued his curiosity. Who was having a liaison this early in the morning, and why did they have to keep it a secret? This again was none of his business and he was about to run on, but something about the voices sounded familiar.
Despite himself, Justan began creeping through the grass to the hedge that lined the women’s building and peeked out from behind it. The speakers were Vannya and Valtrek. It was the first time that Justan had seen the wizard since arriving at the school. He was surprised by the twinge of anger he still felt towards the man. He hadn’t even thought about him in quite a while.
Vannya and Valtrek had their heads close together and spoke so softly that Justan could barely make out what they were saying. Even though this was a secret meeting and they spoke softly, Justan could tell that this had to be something they did often. Their body language and tone carried great familiarity.
Justan crept closer, suddenly feeling like he needed to know what they were speaking about. A stick snapped under his feet and he once again cursed his lack of proper tracking ability. The couple froze and Valtrek looked around with concern. Justan held his breath and tried not to make a single sound.
He knew that Valtrek would be switching to mage sight to see if there was a watcher present, and his bow would definitely stand out. He used one of the defensive magic spells he had been learning and tried to match his magical flows to the rest of his surroundings. On a whim, he tried to extend the spell to cover the Jharro Bow. He wasn’t very successful with the attempt. All it did was mute the intense energy of the weapon. If Valtrek was paying a lot of attention, he would be caught.
He must have been lucky because the wizard began speaking again. This time Justan could hear most of what was being said and though it was dark, light reflected off the windows of the building across the way and Justan could see their facial expressions.
From this angle he could also see that they were holding hands. Valtrek was the one speaking at the moment. “Ah, so Justan is progressing nicely.”
Vannya nodded. “As always, he is handling himself quite well. I think that he will prove to be better than you had hoped. He was very quick to win his first Elements tournament.”
“Yes he was.” The wizard chuckled. “However, I wish that he was progressing more in his other studies. His lack of offensive magic is disappointing.”
“You were never guaranteed that he would be an offensive specialist.” Vannya reminded him.
“You are right.” Valtrek admitted. He smiled and looked down at her with affection. He pulled her hand up to his chest. “Oh, my dear, I am so glad that I was able to meet with you this morning. I have been so busy of late with the war preparations to the north, that I feel you have been neglected.”
“It’s alright.” She embraced him. “I have missed you very much.”
Justan watched the couple with a burning sense of betrayal as Valtrek quickly kissed the side of her mouth and pulled back.
“Next time it won’t be so long, I promise. You still have the pendant I gave you?” She nodded. “Good, keep it close and if there is any new information, call me with it. I must know as soon as you notice anything. Justan could very well be key to the success of my plans.”
She sighed. “Of course.”
With that the wizard caressed her cheek, turned, and walked off into the darkness. Vannya watched him go with a look of frustration etched into her beautiful features. After a moment, she turned and entered the building.
For a while Justan just sat behind the hedges, letting what he had learned sink in. Vannya and Valtrek, together. It just didn’t feel right. He had noticed that she defended the wizard a lot, but Justan had assumed that it was out of a sense of loyalty to the school or just wizards in general. Now he felt the fool.
He had thought that she was his friend. He had even begun to think that she felt something more than that. Now he knew that she was no real friend, just a flirt and a spy for Valtrek. The ache in his heart let Justan know that his feelings for her had been changing as well, but he refused to let that thought germinate. He wouldn’t allow himself to think that he could ever have feelings for someone that would so betray a friend.
Justan shoved his hurt feelings aside. He had just caught a glimpse of the underbelly of the school. All was evidently not as it seemed and now his perceptions of the place seemed a bit darker. He needed to keep an eye out for betrayal. At that moment he was more eager than ever to be done with the place and get back to the academy where he belonged.
Chapter Seven
A swirl of pure hatred raced through the ether, shattering any innocent bit of intelligence it came upon. This angry force enjoyed nothing but destruction and instinctively sought out anything that resembled the past it could not reclaim. This was common in the Realm of Forgotten Dreams.
Few know how to reach this realm, though it is impacted by the every day lives of every thinking creature. It is where the random thoughts and patterns of the subconscious end up, a depository of haphazard bits of awareness, a place full of forgotten memories and desires. When a thinking being awakes from a dream, the emotions and feelings evoked by the dream break away from their conscious mind and float into this realm.
Most of these random particles have no sense of direction or purpose. They are just aimless thoughts, small morsels of almost-nothingness lazily wafting in the ether. These drifting pieces of consciousness are short lived and usually fade away into non-existence within a couple of hours after the dreamer awakens. That is, except for dreams of a particularly powerful nature. A dream that is powered by intense emotions like love or fear or anger can sometimes last longer and take on an intelligence of its own.
From time to time wizards call into the Realm of Forgotten Dreams and pull forth some of these fragments to be used in complex spells. They were useful in giving intelligence to an inanimate object, like creating a door that will know only to let certain people enter. This was an advanced kind of magic seldom used, because if a wizard was not careful, he could bring in an intelligence he could not control.
This day, three humans were using magic to extend their voices into this realm. Two of the voices were weak, one strong, and a summons was being put forth. Their magic promised renewed life, a body to inhabit on the physical plane. Many leftover pieces of dreams that had been drifting without purpose were drawn towards the power and promises of these users of magic.
Another, far stronger, force heard this summons as well. The mother of the moonrats laughed. The seed she had so long cultivated was finally bearing fruit. She reached into the ether and found the swirl of hatred that so mirrored her own. It took little more than a nudge to send it in the direction she wanted.
The hatred raced to the summons of the three humans. The smaller fragments of dream drawn to their call were no match for its intensity. It dispersed them with the power of its passing. Soon, this run-away nightmare found what it had hungered for, a place to reside, a place of immense power. Life.
The three human voices rose to a crescendo as their magic told them that their creation was ready. With a final shout, they demanded that it awake. There was a sudden silence and then the glowing eyes of their construct opened. The three humans in the room opened their mouths to shout in triumph, but that note of joy was cut short. The construct that they had labored so long to create advanced on them with a roar of pure hatred.
Ju
stan ran hard and he ran fast. The meeting between Vannya and Valtrek that he had chanced upon an hour earlier still burned in his mind. He couldn’t get over the thought of their fierce embrace.
He raced along the wall of the MageSchool, running harder than he had since his encounter with the Scralag. He ran until his breathing was labored and his muscles felt like lead. He ran until the extra energy that his bond with Gwyrtha had given him dried up. Finally he stumbled and fell on the edge of the wall in exhaustion.
He lay there until he heard voices coming from below. With a grunt, he pushed himself to his feet. Some of the other students that ran with him every morning finished climbing the stairs to the top of the wall. They smiled and called out when they saw him.
Usually, Justan greeted each of the runners with a friendly hello. They were quite surprised when he ignored their calls of greeting and pushed past them to descend the stairs on shaky legs. Justan grimaced as he felt their stares of surprise on him, but he didn’t have room for regret in his crowded heart and continued on his way without looking back.
Messenger of the Dark Prophet (The Bowl of Souls: Book Two) Page 7
