by Kris Hiatt
They walked down the hall of the College and were soon out on the road to Kilindric. The short walk to the bar wouldn’t take long. They were almost running to keep warm; it was quite cold tonight.
“You are going to make me one, right?” Moff asked.
“If you buy the drinks for the next two weeks,” Heral said.
“He already buys the drinks,” Treace corrected.
“I bought last time,” Heral said.
“Fine, then each of you has to buy my drinks for the next month if you want me to make you one,” Treace said.
“A month each?” Moff protested.
“A master smith does not work for free,” Treace teased. He knew his friends would give in. They both knew Treace didn’t have a lot of money and they always seemed to find a way to buy the drinks. Treace offered several times but both of them always claimed that it was their turn when everyone knew it was his.
“True, better make it two months each,” Heral said.
“He can’t be worth that much!”
“Oh, but I am,” Treace said, playing along. He did nod in Heral’s direction; a silent thanks. Moff was the most outspoken, but Heral was clever.
“I’ll buy two months’ worth of wine tonight just to keep me warm,” Heral said.
“I’m hoping to have something other than wine to keep me warm,” Moff said.
Treace couldn’t see his face but knew he winked anyway. “Stop looking at Heral that way, Moff,” Treace said.
“Funny, coming from the guy that probably hasn’t been with a woman,” Moff replied.
“It’s only funny because it’s true,” Heral said.
“What? That Moff keeps looking at you that way?” Treace said, trying to deflect the truth.
“You know what he meant,” said Moff.
“I know what he meant, but just because our opinions of women differ, doesn’t mean I am less of a man that he is,” Treace said, wanting to defend himself.
“Perfect time for an intermission,” Heral said, opening the door to the Brownbriar Hall and effectively ceasing all conversation as the volume of song, dance, and laughter emanated from the doorway.
Once inside, the three brothers found a table, one of the remaining few, and sat down. It wasn’t long before two of the three were well on their way to having a good time. Treace sat back and watched, as usual, and marveled at the idiocy of his drunken friends. He drank, just never to the same excess as Heral, and most certainly not Moff.
“Why is it there are no girls in your school?” a young woman asked Treace a short time later.
“School rules,” Moff replied, smiling at the rhyme.
“Stupid rules if you ask me,” she replied.
“Our magic is based off from emotions. The founders believed that by mixing adolescents together, emotions can go unchecked and lead to dangerous magic,” Treace explained.
“Still stupid,” she replied.
Treace found he didn’t completely disagree.
“They tried it once,” Heral added. “But it was said that the amount of meetings between the opposite sexes made it difficult to teach, so they expelled all offenders. One year they expelled over a dozen students. Since then, no women were allowed entrance.”
Treace didn’t know if that was true or not, but coming from Heral, he guessed it probably was.
“Should have kicked out the men and kept the women,” the young woman said. “We have more emotion to use anyway.”
“Then please, do sit and show me that emotion,” Moff said, lewdly winking and patting the seat next to him.
She smiled and accepted Moff’s offer.
They chatted for some time, debating who would be better magic users; male or female. Treace knew of one female he would love to see in class with him. Although she would be several classes in front of him due to the age difference. Still, he couldn’t help but to think of Emiah.
#
“Push your emotions aside, find the calm that lies between them. Acknowledge their existence, but ignore their request,” Magister Kelvrin said for what Treace guessed was the thousandth time over the past several weeks. “You must know in your heart that you are the center of your emotions. You control them, they don’t control you. Focus.”
Treace wanted to believe him, but he was getting frustrated. It was difficult for Treace to believe he was struggling with this. He usually did not have any difficulty in learning something new, but this emotional balance was difficult. His emotions were mostly in check, he thought. Several other students had already come close to finding The Calm and one, other than Heral, already had. It had been more than two years since he had joined the College and from when he first read the letter from his father. He came to accept it for what it was now; an apology from his father, nothing else. It meant a great deal to him, but it was no longer agonizing to read, so he believed the difficulty didn’t stem from emotional turmoil.
The door to the Room of Calm opened and Treace could feel the cold air rush into the room. It was snowing outside, again, and winter did not want to release its grip. The brother fought against the wind to close the door. Through the doorway, Treace could see that quite a bit of snow had accumulated, enough to come halfway between his ankle and knee.
“Close it, quickly!” Kelvrin insisted and moved toward the door.
The brother managed to fight off the wind and closed the door just as Kelvrin arrived. When he turned around and removed the hood of his snow covered blue robes, Treace wasn’t surprised to see it was Brother Drevic. He had been stopping in to this room often during the weeks they worked on the Path of Calm. He didn’t know why the ambassador to Baron Liernin was so interested in this class.
“I wish that spring was just a month away,” Drevic said.
“Agreed,” Magister Kelvrin said and brushed the snow that had blown in off from his red robes.
“How are they doing?” he heard Drevic ask Kelvrin.
They moved closer to the corner, further away from the class and spoke quietly, but Treace could still hear them.
“As usual, there’s one or two that are coming along nicely, a few that aren’t, and most are somewhere in between.” Treace heard Kelvrin say.
“And my three candidates?”
Kelvrin eyed the group over and Treace was quick to close his eyes and pretend to be in The Calm.
“One is getting it, one is having a hard time, and one I fear never will. But it has been less than four months since they began.”
“I was hoping you would say all three are coming along nicely. I guess that either narrows it down, or means we need to select more. Thank you Magister Kelvrin,” Drevic said after a sigh.
“You still have time, Brother Drevic, have faith,” he heard Magister Kelvrin say.
Treace heard the door open and close again shortly after. The cold air rushed in and brushed across his face. He kept his eyes closed and wondered which three students Drevic was referring to, and in which category Treace was in according to Magister Kelvrin. He also wondered what Kelvrin meant when he told Drevic he still had time.
“Push your emotions aside, find the calm that…” he heard Kelvrin say again.
Treace ignored the magister and tried again to fall into The Calm. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes slightly before closing them again, ever so softly. He didn’t want any pressure on his muscles; he wanted them to be loose and relaxed.
He heard the fire crackling on the other side of the room and could hear his own breathing. Magister Kelvrin’s soft boots scraped quietly on the floor as he shuffled his feet from side to side. Another student tried to stifle a cough, but Treace could still hear it. He could hear the student next to him breathing and thought it sounded like a horse breathing hard after a long run.
He pushed all the sounds aside, ignored them. He concentrated on silence. He pictured his room back in Lake City. His mother was at work so the house was still. He was in his bed and he could smell the wood the house was built from. It was quiet, and he
embraced it. He reveled in it. He was feeling the tug of his emotions, especially sadness. He knew he was almost there. The silence enveloped him, the only sensation he had was smell. The smell of wood grew stronger, more intense. It filled his nose and he remembered his childhood. He remembered all the things he did in the room. He remembered how his father used to read to him in that room. The smell went down his throat and into his lungs and he couldn’t breathe. He gasped for air, but none came, only the overwhelming scent of the wood. He was running out of air in his lungs. He was starting to suffocate!
He opened his eyes and gasped for air. His heart was hammering in his chest and his breathing came in quick shallow breaths.
“Welcome back,” Kelvrin said from right in front of him, smiling. “I see progress on your face.”
“I was close!”
“But not quite there,” Kelvrin said.
“I could feel sadness tug at me, but then I smelled the wood of my childhood room,” Treace explained, trying to recall all that happened. He absently wiped away the tears that had formed in his eyes.
“Ah, there’s your problem,” Magister Kelvrin said.
Treace looked at him confused. What did his childhood room have to do with it?
“Your childhood has many emotions tied to it,” Kelvrin said, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. Treace looked around and saw that everyone was already looking in his direction, including Moff and Heral, and they both wore large smiles on their faces. He wondered if he had made any sounds while he was attempting to reach The Calm. His face went flush.
“Your mind links memories with emotions, it’s how we learn. If you think back to some of your earliest memories, you will find it is because it is tied to one of your emotions. Whether it was tied to happiness, sadness, or even anger, our memories bring emotions with them,” Kelvrin explained.
It made sense to Treace then, at least the part about memories being tied to emotion. He still didn’t understand why the smell of wood overwhelmed his senses. He was about to ask when Kelvrin continued with his explanation.
“In order to find The Calm, you will have to forgo your past. Memories have emotion. So does the idea of your future. Future outcomes have emotions that guide your actions. If you push your feelings aside and concentrate on the present, on trying to find The Calm, you will find it easier to succeed.”
“Yes, Brother Treace,” Kevlrin said after noticing Treace had his hand raised.
Even after two years, he still wasn’t used to being called brother, but he thought he would get used to it in time. “Why did the sensation of smell attack me?”
“Good question. Anyone care to answer?” Kelvrin said, looking at the class.
Treace thought about answering. He thought maybe sensation was attached to the memory, and the memory was attached to emotion. Was the sensation of wood attached to sadness?
“A memory is just that; a thing of the past,” Kelvrin said after no one attempted to answer. “That memory is tied to an emotion, but also tied to sensation. So by bringing the memory, a thing of the past, into your current state of mind, you also brought with it the emotion and the sensation. Being close to The Calm heightened both.”
Treace was very confused. If he couldn’t concentrate on the past, and he couldn’t think about the future, what was he supposed to concentrate on?
“Sir, if we are not supposed to concentrate on the past, nor the future, what do we think about?”
“Nothing!” Kelvrin exclaimed.
“That hardly makes sense,” Treace said.
“Did I give you the impression it was easy?” Kelvrin asked. Moff and Heral laughed, and a few students joined them.
Treace was glad his traditional studies consisting of mathematics, history, and geography were over. He had completed them easily; he actually found the classes to be easier than the exams, something he thought was odd, but he found this emotional balance idea, and the Path of The Calm, to be an entirely different thing. They only studied together three times a week; the emotional strain and fatigue too great to work more than that. He wasn’t doing as poorly as Moff, but nowhere near as well as Heral.
“That’s enough for one day,” Kelvrin said. “Go get some food and relax for the night. Stay warm!”
Everyone got up and got ready to brave the cold. Treace pulled up his hood and moved toward the door.
“Stay please, Brother Treace,” said the magister.
Treace hoped he didn’t speak out of turn. He played back everything he had said to the magister and thought he might be in trouble for not raising his hand before he spoke after Kelvrin told him what to concentrate on. Both Moff and Heral gave him concerned looks as they exited the classroom.
“I’m sorry your childhood was difficult,” the magister said once they were alone.
Treace could feel the empathy emanating from the man. He could see it in his eyes and Treace silently thanked him for it. “What makes you think it was, magister?”
“You were crying when you came back from your near encounter with The Calm. You said you were thinking of your childhood room and that sadness tugged at you. Most childhoods are filled with joy. For you to say sadness, well, I just wanted to say that I am here if you need to talk.”
“Thank you Magister Kelvrin, I appreciate it,” Treace said. He really did.
#
“You do have your way with steel,” Moff said.
“Yeah, if only he didn’t take two weeks to do it,” Heral replied.
“I only work there two or three days a week,” Treace said. “And most of that time is completing orders for paying customers.”
“We are paying, remember?” Moff said.
“The customers that pay Uripo with coin, not me with wine,” Treace corrected.
“Are the three Onneron Brothers, the three wolves, hunting on Celebrae night?” Heral said as he tucked his necklace into his robes after another inspection.
“You know I am,” said Moff, still admiring his wolf paw charm.
“You two can hunt, I will stand guard,” Treace said. It would be very busy tonight, Celebrae night always was. The only people that worked on Celebrae were the tavern workers, and that was only to serve drinks. Many of them drank along with the customers since it was Celebrae. Twice a month nearly every abled body drank in celebration of Kaden.
“You always stand guard,” Moff protested. “When are you going to hunt?”
“When there’s something worth hunting,” Treace replied.
“Are you implying that we have lower standards?” Heral asked.
“Perhaps.”
“So then do you have a different prey in mind?” Moff asked; the curiosity in his voice impossible for Treace to miss.
“I do, but I wouldn’t call her prey. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, you’ll just pester me about it for days until I give in and give you all the details. Her name is Emiah and I don’t even know if she remembers me. She was kind to me when everyone else treated me like an outcast. Anyway, no one here compares to her beauty,” Treace said.
“Ooh, I want to know everything,” Moff said.
“But you’ll get nothing,” Treace said.
“Not even if I buy the wine,” Moff replied.
“You’re already buying the wine,” Heral said.
“Then I’ll buy more!”
“I’m not sure the town can support that much more wine,” Heral said.
“You say that like I drink every time we go out,” Moff said.
“That’s because you do,” Treace told him.
“Right. Well, someone has to,” Moff said. “Might as well be me.”
“If you took your training in The Calm as serious as you did your drinking Moff, you might not be doing so badly in class,” Heral said, removing much of the light mood.
“Don’t bring that up tonight,” Moff said. “Tonight is for fun, not for pointing out my failures. My father did enough of that, I don’t need my friends doing it too.”
Treace knew that Heral had just made it so they would be carrying Moff back to the College tonight. He would drink until he was drunk and then drink some more so that he could forget about his father and, more importantly, the lack of his father’s love. Treace sort of understood where Moff was coming from on that regard, though not for the same reason.
“Ignore him,” Treace said, trying to bring a smile back to his friend’s face. “I’ll get drunk with you tonight.”
“I don’t believe it! This is going to be the greatest night yet,” Moff said excitedly. Apparently the idea of his father had left his mind already.
“I need some wine already,” Heral said, looking around the College mess as if a waitress would appear and give him wine.
“We have several hours to go,” Treace reminded them. “It’s only lunch time.”
“We could skip it,” Moff offered.
“I’m not skipping the rest of the day,” Treace said.
“I’m not going to give them a reason to question our drinking habits,” Heral added. “They haven’t yet, and there’s no reason to chance that now.”
Moff looked deflated but Treace figured he knew better than to argue. Whenever both Treace and Heral agreed on something, not even the power of Moff’s charm could change their mind.
#
“Concentrate,” Kelvrin told them again a few weeks later. “Push the feelings aside and go to the center. Fall into The Calm and feel your emotions around you. Fall into nothing.”
“You always tell us to fall into The Calm. Do you always fall?” a brother that Treace couldn’t recognize by voice said.
He had his eyes closed and was trying to concentrate on the Calm. Treace’s surrounding faded a little so recognizing voices was difficult. Even understanding the meaning of words was tough at times, but he managed the latest question.
“It is an expression used to get you to that point, but yes, we find it easier for most students to accomplish if we tell them to fall into it,” Kelvrin explained. “We tell you to fall and to look down, that’s where your emotions will be.”
Treace was about to try to fall into The Calm, but Kelvrin started speaking again. Falling into The Calm was something he thought he had done several times now, but Magister Kelvrin said he was only close. He thought he was there, he was certain of it.
