Message Bearer (The Auran Chronicles Book 1)

by Dobing, M. S.

  Any spare time in the day was spent honing his sense. He cast it out, seeing what he could find. All too often it was nothing but confirmation that other life was out there, but in recent days he’d seen a subtle shift in the echoes he received. Where before it had just been a vague indication of life, now he was able to discern individuals amongst the noise.

  It was addictive. And he craved more.

  The afternoons were focused on joining Caleb on his rounds. He’d met many different individuals on these journeys, all loosely coupled to the new world within which he now existed. His knowledge had grown, but with it so had his doubts. It was not a happy time out there, he’d learned. Attacks by the sheol had been growing at an alarming rate, and there were growing rumours that the Brotherhood were unable to cope with the increase. When questioned, Cade had snapped that perhaps he could ask the Magistry how they were coping. Seb didn’t need to answer that, but from the increased number of meetings of the Three he suspected that the concern wasn’t the Brotherhood’s alone, although he was hard pressed to see what their contribution had been to the Brotherhood’s struggles.

  The evenings were his own. He’d tried earlier on to spend time with the other acolytes, but regardless of his new found prowess the orders regarding his segregation still held, the rest shunned him, keeping to themselves, avoiding his eyes whenever he walked past. So instead he spent his time with his head buried in one of the many books that filled the mansion library. Many of them of course were bound in the same Runic Script that he was still learning to decipher. Some though were in English, translated from their original language. Their content enthralled him, and he spent many hours reading up on the Sharding, the Great Crossing to Aura and the many tales that preceded it.

  His devotion had not gone unnoticed. A couple of times he’d seen Cian in the library too. The giant warrior didn’t speak at first. But over time Seb had earned the occasional grunt of acknowledgement. As their meetings increased in number Cian seemed to accept that Seb wasn’t going to be getting bored anytime soon, and so began recommending certain reading material - "if he wanted to learn something useful."

  But it was the Weave, and the mastery of this mystical force that drove him. The more he used it, the more he connected with it and threw out his sense, the more he craved from it. He’d been begging Caleb for weeks to begin learning Avatari, the Self, saying that he was ready. Caleb had denied him, firmly at first, but less so as the news of increased attacks began to filter through. Seb’s argument that he needed to be better equipped to defend himself now held water, and Caleb’s refuting of it had grown weaker by the day. Eventually he had relented. And today was the day he would learn the Self for the first time.

  Seb paced around the centre of the chamber. He’d been there since before dawn, when an urgency born of desperation to learn had made him pretty much vault out of bed. Caleb was only just stirring as he went, but it didn’t matter. Today was the day when he would begin to learn how to harness the Weave for himself.

  Eventually, Caleb shuffled into the chamber, clutching a steaming mug of coffee. He groaned and flexed his neck, but Seb only smiled. The show of age was only an act, Caleb’s aura was brighter now, if not brighter, than it was when Seb had first seen it.

  ‘Come on, old man, it’s not like you to be late.’

  ‘It’s not like you to be early.’

  ‘Touché. Although this is no ordinary day.’ He looked down at Caleb’s attire. ‘You don’t look particularly ready for training.’

  ‘I’m not.’ Caleb said. His face broke out into a wide grin that made Seb feel uneasy.

  ‘But I am!’

  Seb stopped, nearly tripping over his own feet as Cian entered the room, stooping to get his giant frame under the door.

  ‘Master Cian,’ he heard himself say, his voice having risen in pitch.

  ‘Last time I checked.’

  Cian walked into the centre of the chamber. He wore the familiar grey smock that Seb had seen on many occasions watching him spar outside. The sight of his favoured weapon, the staff, strapped to his back conjured a dread feeling in Seb’s gut.

  Cian stopped and threw his staff to the ground. He turned and looked Seb up and down.

  ‘So, Caleb tells me you’re ready for the Self?’

  Seb shot a glance back at his mentor. Caleb gave a quick double nod back as if to say "go on!”. He looked back. Cian was staring at him with one eyebrow raised.

  ‘Well, boy, unless you’re communicating with me via telepathy - and failing - you’re going to need to speak up.’

  ‘Yes, Master. I believe I am ready.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Why, Seb? Why are you ready? The acolytes out there aren’t ready. They can barely sense themselves when they look in the mirror. Why are you ready?’

  The question caught him off guard, but he focused quickly, drawing on his training to filter out the growing anger, pushing it to one side. He let out a deep breath.

  ‘I have not mastered Sentio that is true. However I am more than able to keep pace with the lesson’s Caleb is teaching me. I teach myself often, well into the night. You’ve seen me yourself. Plus I need to learn it, if I’m to defend myself against the sheol.’

  Cian stared at him for what seemed like an eternity. The giant warrior cast a look at Caleb, who gave a resigned shrug in response.

  ‘Interesting. You may find it hard to believe, Seb. But I agree with you.’

  Seb’s mouth slammed shut. He’d been ready for a counter argument. Cian’s acceptance was fortunate, as he had nothing else to throw back.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Don’t look so surprised. You are far beyond where you would have been expected to be. We do not know what happened to you in your Weave-walk. The results were successful, perhaps too successful, but that is a conversation for another time. For now though, I do agree. You need to be able to protect yourself. Properly. You don’t have the luxury of a Family’s wealth and their retinue of bodyguards. A phosphorus gun will only go so far. You are ready. And I will teach you. Understand?’

  ‘Yes, Master.’

  Cian nodded. ‘That will be all, Caleb.’

  Caleb left. Seb watched him go before turning back to Cian. He flexed his fingers together and tipped his head to one side and then the other as he shook out morning muscles.

  ‘You should not be so eager.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Your desire to learn is great. A rare thing in fact. But be careful that you do not run before you can walk.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Master. It’s just that once I connected that first time, it was as if something had awoken inside me. For the first time in my life I’d found something that I could actually do, but not just do, but excel at. When I lost it, and I couldn’t connect anymore, I felt lost, disconnected. When it came back I vowed never to take it for granted again. I know I’m a novice, but it just seems so natural to me. Does that make sense?’

  Cian studied him in silence for a moment. Something in Seb’s mind tingled, and it suddenly dawned on him what was happening.

  ‘You’re reading my mind.’

  ‘Only the surface. I wanted to gauge if your intentions match your words.’

  ‘And do they?’

  ‘I wouldn’t be here if they didn’t.’ Cian nodded to the mat. ‘Sit.’

  Seb obeyed. He adopted the usual sitting position, legs crossed. Soles facing inwards, the backs of his hands resting on his knees. Cian kneeled down opposite him.

  ‘You have become proficient in Sentio. You can sense out now, detecting lifeforms. Correct?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Over time, as you practice, that will grow. As your connection with the Weave strengthens you will learn to not only sense life, but also their intentions, their fears. Eventually your reach will grow, crossing even to other Shards. Eventually, you will be able to read the inner most thoughts of any living creature.

  ‘However, with thi
s growth, so increases the risk. You are aware of the Consensus?’

  Seb nodded. ‘Yes. It’s the collective strength of the conscious and unconscious minds of the Unaware.’

  Cian laughed. ‘Well regurgitated. Correct, of course, but do you know what that actually means?’

  ‘That reality is bound by the rules of the Consensus?’

  ‘Much better. Yes, exactly that. At the time of the crossing, Woden and his fellow magi decided that this new realm, which was as yet untainted by the power of the Weave, would remain so. In their ultimate sacrifice, they combined their powers, and bound the Weave to the will of the Observers.’

  ‘The Observers? You mean the Unaware?’

  ‘They are one and the same. The basic rule that only a reality that was bound by the Consensus, this collective perception of reality, if you will, could actually exist. They bound their abilities into this rule, and then stepped back from the world.’

  Seb nodded again, thinking back over the texts he’d read. ‘So two things come out of that. One, is that things only exist when they’re observed, and two, that only things that are accepted as normal can actually happen?’

  Cian sat back slightly, a genuine look of surprise on his face. Seb smiled back.

  ‘The Consensus Explained - Volume One.’ Seb said.

  ‘I think I need to enforce this reading policy across all my students,’ Cian said, a grudging smile creeping onto his face. ‘But yes, you are right. The former is well known amongst our kind, and even the scientists of this realm are beginning to speculate on it themselves. However it is the latter, that only events that are accepted as the norm by the Consensus, that concerns us.

  ‘With Sentio, it is not much of an issue. The act of sensing is a subtle effect. No one can tell you’re doing it unless you’re a Latent yourself. And if you’re Latent, then the Consensus doesn’t apply in any case.’

  That was a new one. ‘Really? How does that work?’

  ‘It means that Weave-effects can be done in front of a Latent with no penalties applied from the Consensus. However, when we look at Avatari, and beyond that, Novo, we have to face the restrictions of the Consensus head on.

  ‘Reality is enforced by the Unaware. When someone, or something, attempts to change reality in a way that goes against the Consensus, there is a push back against the changer. For subtle effects that can be passed off as occurring naturally, explained away as a trick of the light, then there is only a minor push back. For things more vulgar, that just cannot happen, then the push back is more severe. Sometimes even fatal. Understand?’

  ‘I think so,’ he said.

  ‘It’s a lot to take in. For now let us act. We can talk later.’

  Cian walked to one side of the chamber. He emptied a bundle of short wooden sticks to the floor. He waved his hand. The air crackled with Weave-energy, the hairs on Seb’s arm standing on end. The sticks moved, rising from the ground as if on strings. They came together, hovering in mid-air, settling into a loosely humanoid shape around six feet in height.

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘This,’ Cian said, moving in front of the stick man, ‘is a mage variant of what is called in fighting circles as a wooden man. Basically it’s a training dummy.’

  ‘A training dummy held together by magic? This is not like the one you train with outside?’

  Cian’s eyes flickered for a second.

  ‘We need our version to be more resistant,’ he said after a pause, ignoring Seb’s interruption. ‘Our methods are more damaging than those seen in the martial arts of the Unaware.’

  Seb looked the wooden man up and down. It didn’t look much. A gust of wind would take it out in an instant.

  ‘You doubt its use?’ Cian said.

  ‘It just looks a little – flimsy.’

  Cian swung the back of his hand towards the dummy, the air crackling with unseen energy. He connected, the dummy exploded, sending shards of broken wood clattering to the floor.

  ‘Whoa!’ Seb said. He bent down to pick up a sliver of wood that landed at his feet. ‘I hope you’ve got plenty more where that came from.’

  ‘No need. Observe.’

  Cian didn’t move his hands this time. The energy crackled in the air yet again. The wooden fragment in his hand began to tug as if being pulled by an unseen force. He let it go. The shard floated in the air, drifting back to where the dummy had stood moments earlier. The shard was joined by the rest of the debris, the wooden fragments reforming back into a humanoid shape. The air around the dummy shimmered. The cracks vanished, leaving it whole again.

  ‘Ah.’ Seb said.

  ‘You get it now?’

  ‘No matter how hard you hit it, it just gets back up?’

  ‘Exactly. Now, to the lesson at hand. Avatari. The Self. At its most basic level it involves channelling the Weave into your second most important asset. Your vessel. With it you will increase your speed, strength and senses.’

  ‘I thought Sentio did that. The senses, I mean.’

  ‘Sentio is your Weave-sense. It is basically your ability to connect to the Weave and intuit everything else connected to it. Avatari is your physical senses such as hearing and sight.’

  ‘Got it.’

  ‘Good. Now come forwards.’

  Seb stepped over to Cian. The wooden man hovered right before him. He resisted the urge to pass his hands through the gaps between components as if he would find some hidden string.

  ‘Hit it.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Am I speaking a foreign language? Hit it, Seb.’

  Seb took up a fighting stance, muscle memory kicking in from months of training with Cade. He took in a deep breath. As he exhaled he struck out with a snap punch. He hit the dummy’s head with a dull thunk.

  ‘Shit!’ His fist burned. He held it between his legs as he hopped round the room.

  ‘Good effort.’

  ‘Good effort? What the hell does that prove? I think I’ve just broken my knuckles.’

  ‘You and I both know that’s not true. I was just re-enforcing the point. You can testify that this is not simply cardboard. That is a firm, solid structure?’

  Seb looked at the back of his hands where his knuckles blazed an angry red.

  ‘Yeah. I think I can testify to that.’

  ‘Good. Now. Are you connected?’

  Seb closed his eyes. The hum was there, an almost imperceptible sensation, like a radio being plugged in and turned on but the volume turned down to zero.

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Very well. Open your eyes. This may hurt a little.’

  Cian weaved his right hand through the air. A trail of white light followed this forefinger. He stepped back a moment later, the completed image hovering in the air between them.

  ‘What is that?’

  ‘Runic Script.’

  ‘I know that. I just don’t recognise it.’

  ‘You won’t find it in Fundamentals. This, and certain others for the other schools, are held from the acolyte until they are ready. These are the building blocks from which the other patterns can be built from.’

  An image came to mind. The Tower. The stone platform. A door opening. Someone talking to him. A finger touching his chest. The world exploding in white light.

  ‘Problem?’ Cian said.

  ‘This didn’t happen with Sentio. I don’t remember ever receiving a first Script for that?’

  ‘You did. Via the foci. You couldn’t read Runic then. Your mind wasn’t able to comprehend its meaning. Now you are different. You can see it in its true form. Now, brace yourself.’

  ‘Wait -’

  The hovering rune began to glow, the light expanding. Then he realised it wasn’t expanding. It was moving towards him. He tried to close his eyes but couldn’t. He was held, immobile, as the pattern encompassed his entire view. From somewhere, something rumbled, then the rune exploded, and burned itself into his mind.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Cian said.

  Seb blinked. H
e could still see the pattern in the air, like when someone stares at the sun for too long before looking away. It faded with each passing second, becoming a handful of incoherent blobs that finally vanished completely.

  Did he feel okay? There was no pain. None at all. But something was different. The Weave connection was there, that ever present hum, but it had a different tone to it, as if it were sat there, ready to be activated in some way.

  ‘Something’s different.’

  ‘It’s normal to feel that way. Your mind has just been awoken to further possibilities with the Weave. Already new neurons are forming as a result, the pattern embedding itself within you, readying you for what comes next.’

  ‘What comes next?’

  Cian stepped back. He nodded to the dummy. ‘Hit it.’

  ‘How did I know you were going to say that?’

  ‘Hit it again. Only this time, draw upon what you have just learned.’

  ‘How do I do that?’

  ‘Channel. Call up your patterns. You will see.’

  Right. Call up your patterns. Easy enough. He closed his eyes and accessed the store where all the memorised patterns went. They came easily, a catalogue of runes available on demand. He could tell straight away that the library had been expanded massively. A whole new area was there, listed under an image of the rune he had just absorbed. These runes were different though. They weren’t callable, they were just there.

  ‘I can see them, but I can’t call them,’ he said, his eyes remaining closed.

  ‘Indeed. These are known as passive effects. They are always on, so to speak, as long as you are connected. Just remember they are bound by the same rules as everything else. Beware the Consensus, and don’t burn yourself out.’

  ‘Understood,’ he said. I think.