The Davisville train station was nowhere near as robust as Daris', having only three tracks for loading and unloading. It too was a low built gray building, standing against the cold rains of the NP sluggishly, impassively. But all of this was lost in the face of why people came to Davisville. The sole reason why a city so glum even existed in a nation so new, and so disorganized.
The territory of Davisville sloped higher and higher up a hill as the coast slinked along to the north, forming an imposing cliff, hundreds of feet tall, and sheer. It loomed over the city, casting a shadow that stretched over each home intangibly, leaving a mark to tell everyone why they were there, and to what they owed their safety. Atop that cliff, perched on the edge and leaning over it, daring gravity, was House Kulare, the sprawling and immense gothic castle, and home of the greatest school of The Way in all of Elmoryn. Turrets on the castle walls were delicate, like stalagmites, and the building itself wide and ornamented in gargoyles, carvings, and impossibly intricate stonework that made the building almost look alive. Ivy and vines, flowering in white and milky orange climbed the outer walls of the castle and the keep inside as well. Even from over a mile away the school had an airy, elite feel to it, but a sinister purpose radiated out, telling everyone that dark secrets were available inside the doors, daring those who looked up to pay the price of admission.
House Kulare took in a mere one hundred students, twenty at a time to attend their five year schooling in The Way. Those who gained entrance to the highly esteemed edifice of learning were already gifted in the magic of Elmoryn, and when they left, they were refined artists, capable of claiming mastery over the spells they studied while students as House Kulare. Many applied to the school, but few were granted precious acceptance. It was said the city below the cliff was filled with the waiting families of students hoping to be accepted into the house of learning, or the broken derelicts of students that had failed out.
House Kulare frightened James. It was a place filled with people who had enough power and knowledge to stand against his Church, and challenge his beliefs. This was a place of tremendous might and magic, filled with wise and cunning people. Power was one thing, but power coupled with intelligence another. He shuddered with the train as it came to a stop at the concrete train station.
"Nice to see you've returned to us Minister," Malwynn's familiar voice said.
James blinked some of the sleep out of his eyes and looked up at the black haired young man. He is handsome James thought. There's a lot of Alisanne in his face. Umaryn's too. "It's good to be back. I feel much better. How are all the injured? I hope they are doing well."
Mal sat down as others stood up, grateful to be at their destination. "Everyone who was hurt made it. You already know about who died."
"Indeed."
"Thank you again Minister. The night was dark enough. I'm glad you were there to keep things from being worse. My sister and I were wondering what business you had here in Davisville, what brought you here if you don't mind our asking?"
James felt a lump form in his throat. He had no answer prepared but his mind cooperated with a simple falsehood. "I was traveling here to visit the Cathedral of Saint Jalenn. I've never been, and I had some ability to get free to visit. I'm glad to be here, though I wish the journey here had been a little different. Changes the tone of this trip."
"I couldn't agree with you more Minister. Well, this is good. A social visit. My sister and I have business at House Kulare and if you're just here on a holiday, we'd love to have you join us. I'm sure you know the school is very prestigious, and I think we'd like to bring you along and experience it with us as a small token of gratitude for all the healing and redemptive work you've done here on the train. Were it not for you, many many more would've died."
"Oh I couldn't possibly do that. I was doing my life's work, doing the work of the ancestors Malwynn. Taking any kind of compensation would be very much against the Church's beliefs. Against my personal policies if you will."
"Just Mal is fine James. I hate to break it to you, but we won't take no for an answer. Besides, I already know Apostles collect pay for their services to the Church, so don't act like you do everything for free. Don't be so humble James. My sister, Chelsea and I would love to have you, you deserve it, and while you're here in Davisville, you should see the school. When you return to your cathedral, or temple or church, it'll be something you can tell your congregation about. Removing barriers and increasing knowledge is a good thing, right? And as I said, we won't take no for an answer."
The lump in James' throat grew ever larger, so large he thought his breathing would stop. He was about to start sweating. He forced a smile and said, "Well I guess if you just won't take no for an answer. I'd be delighted to experience Elmoryn's most prestigious school of The Way. Thank you Mal."
"Wonderful. We need accommodations, food and drink, and perhaps this afternoon we can make our way up the hill. We insist you stay with us. I'm being bossy, aren't I?"
"A little yes, but no, no. I'll have a room at the Cathedral. It's customary for traveling Apostles to stay at churches and cathedrals along the way. Call it a courtesy amongst those that set souls free. It is a distinguished place of honor for me to be able to rest there, and one of the main reasons I came. You mustn't deny me that."
Mal agreed. "That's fair. I'm sorry for being so rigid on this. It's just we like you, and we want to ensure you have a good time here in Davisville. Come, we'll figure out a common meeting place. My sister and Chelsea are getting our mounts out of the storage cars. They should be just about ready by now."
After gathering his things, James and Mal left the train as if they were two close friends.
James was finally behind a closed door and had privacy. He'd managed to tell the twins and the Varrlander soldier woman he needed to settle in at the Cathedral, and bought his freedom from their sudden friendship, and now he was finished with procuring a simple priest's room at the blunt Cathedral of Saint Jalenn. The room was the epitome of sparse, with a straw mattress and rough wooden framed bed, and a desk that looked like it was growing splinters. A single rectangular window let in a damp draft and a stream of gray light that threatened to chill him, and strain his vision at the same time. In the corner of the room was a pair of chamber pots for his bladder and bowels. It was below what he'd hoped for, but it was safe, still somewhat prestigious in its own right, and far from the twins he'd been sent to follow.
Before he finished setting his travel bag on the meager bed he was already focusing his will into The Way. He was summoning a spirit. He needed the freed soul of a dead person who would carry a simple message across the miles back to Daris. It would take many spirits working in conjunction for the message to reach the Bishop, but James knew the spells, and he had to get the news of what happened on the train to her immediately. She'd want to know.
"Spirits of this coastal city, give to me your unending time, and your ear. A message must be relayed to Bishop Alisanne in Daris," James said softly.
Immediately a gust of bitter stormy wind carried through the window, and James felt an inquisitive, fleeting presence in the room with him. In his mind he imagined the flicker of a candle, and a flittering lightning bug. Cathedrals were often awash with the spirits of the dead, and even this somewhat remote place of worship and healing was no different. He was happy to have found a strong spirit so fast. In the air James could see a face made of storm vapor form, almost invisible to the naked eye. The face, a woman's, looked at him with willing eyes, and awaited his message.
He chose his words carefully. If the spirits needed another Apostle to recast the spell along the way to Daris, another member of the clergy would hear the message. He couldn't risk anyone knowing about the twins and their plans, whatever they might be. James leaned in and whispered into the ear of the ancestor spirit.
"Our train was attacked. All survived. I have been most fortunate, and have made new friends. I will be visiting House Kulare later with them. I hope
to learn much about the past, and the future as well. I'll be careful."
James felt the spirit listen. It was the same feeling as when someone makes eye contact in an important conversation. It felt there. The spirit, invisible but present nonetheless, darted out the window and made haste towards Varrland, and the intended recipient, Alisanne.
I hope the message gets to her quickly. I'll be with the twins again soon, and I don't know how to play this. In fact, I'm not sure who to believe right now.
- Chapter Eleven -
HOUSE KULARE
A clinging mist fell from the overcast sky.
Mal, Umaryn, Chelsea and James walked through the open gates of House Kulare casually, as if it were a public cathedral, open for services at all hours of the day and night. But this was no cathedral of the Church of Souls. It was a cathedral in a very different sense. House Kulare was the center of all learning of The Way on Elmoryn. The home of the greatest, teaching the young and gifted. It should've had guards. Something.
Chelsea sounded disappointed, "Why is this gate not sealed? You could walk a pack of Ice Bears through this gate. Shouldn't there be a dozen guards walking the walls? Catapults? Waymancers with wands and staves brandished menacingly? This place is so vulnerable."
Umaryn snickered. "Chelsea, who lives here?"
The lady soldier shrugged. "Wizards?"
"Right. About a hundred of them, plus a hundred students, some of which are already powerful in their own right. Anyone who attempted to do anything insane here would be either incinerated, frozen, transmogrified into a snail, or mentally manipulated into turning around and walking off that big damned cliff as if it were the best idea they'd ever had. I'd argue shutting the gate wouldn't help them in the least."
"Here's to that," Mal said, tipping up his water skin for a sip.
As the four intrepid travelers walked through the slate gray, wind washed courtyard, students walked along the side of the building where an awning was hung. They moved quickly, carrying textbooks close to their chests to protect them against the faint drizzle in the air. Their young faces looked up and saw the motley gang of visitors and quickly dismissed them. They had classes to get to, and they were probably one of the least interesting things the students had seen enter the school.
"They're so young," James said.
"Aye. I've heard they take students as young as ten years. Can you imagine being brought to a place like this?" Mal asked. "So far from home, so many scary concepts to digest. Spells and undead and monsters. It must be frightening enough to learn you're gifted in The Way at that age, let alone being sent off to this fortress."
"It's not that bad," an elderly man's voice said softly.
The group turned to the source of the voice, and saw an old man sitting on a stone bench. No one had seen him there when they entered. The twins were brought back to the bench outside their home in New Picknell. The two benches looked nearly identical, so similar the coincidence seemed impossible. The old man however, did not remind them of New Picknell at all.
He was alarmingly thin, with dwindling white hair falling from the top of his head. From his jaw line fell a second sprouting of thin white hair, just as sparse as the hair on his head. He was smiling, though there was a questioning, almost challenging strength in the set of his eyes. He wore an open brown jacket under which a suit of elegant chain mail could be seen. The heavy metal ring armor, despite its craftsmanship, looked far too encumbering for a man of his stature to wear all day, but he didn't seem bothered by it.
The group was quiet for a few moments before Mal addressed the man. "Sorry sir. This is our first visit to the school here. We didn't mean to offend."
The old man waved a hand of liver spotted fingers dismissively. "You have nothing to worry about my child. We welcome many visitors here at House Kulare. My students call me Samrale Overfist. What might I call each of you?"
"My name is Malwynn Everwalk, this is my sister Umaryn. James is an Apostle, we've only just met on the train coming here, and that's Chelsea. She serves with the Varrland military."
"I could discern that by her uniform Malwynn, but thank you for confirming my suspicion. What brings you here to House Kulare?"
Mal was blushing. He felt a little silly. "Well Mr. Overfist, we are looking into our family's past. We've traveled all the way from Daris because we believe we might have a relative here we've never met."
"Certainly not a student?" Overfist said, crossing his legs with more than a little effort.
"We think he's a faculty member now, or was. A former student at the very least. Can you direct us to someone who might be able to help us?"
"Of course, of course," Samrale said as he got to his feet. "Temborar," he whispered. Both Mal and Umaryn felt a flare in The Way from the man, and a small cane materialized out of nothing, appearing below his hand as he took his first step towards the wide doors of the school. "Follow me. It's a long walk up an arduous amount of stairs."
The four followed the doddering old man as he led them inside the home of learning, his brand new cane clicking as he went.
The interior of House Kulare was surprisingly mundane and almost oppressive. All four had expected on some level for there to be floating chairs, magical candles and braziers, materialized spirits all about, and young pyromancers hurling spheres of flame against bull's eyes in the hall, but inside it appeared no different than a damp castle filled with serious minded young boys and girls, their heads buried in texts or writing lengthy papers. The interior decorations were as they had expected, fancy, bordering on opulent, but retaining just enough modesty for the place to seem inviting. Each of them felt quickly at home, despite the prevalence of the gray stone, and dampness that was defeating the large fireplaces scattered throughout the main room.
Samrale walked them into the main chamber of the entry hall and then up a wide double staircase that split halfway between the first and second floors, skirting large stone chimneys that ran up through the ceiling on their way to the roof. They followed him dutifully as dozens of students stood for him as he passed. The sound of his cane clicking away was a call to attention it appeared. They all greeted him with wordless smiles, and an obvious respect that he accepted equally wordlessly. Occasionally he would turn and nod at a student, and they'd grin wider, and then return to whatever it was they were doing before he passed. A smile from Samrale was something to celebrate. Mal felt as if he were in the presence of magical royalty.
He wasn't entirely wrong.
The tiny Waymancer walked them up a series of side stairwells, the first ordinary and straight, the second and third spiral, and towering. The group ascended smoothly, watching the old man plug along like a steam locomotive. Even wearing the heavy armor he moved gracefully, never losing his breath and never slowing. When they reached the top of what could only be one of the massive castle's towers, Samrale came to a halt where he could walk no farther. There was a small landing, and a single door. He opened the door that said simply; 'Samrale Overfist, Second Seat.'
He led them into a room that was overflowing and crowded with a vast array of well organized but strange objects. Chalices, spectacles, shoes, books, and more were all lined up carefully, on shelves and tables each item impeccably clean of dust, and placed just so. He sat down behind the desk and tossed his evoked cane over his shoulder. It disappeared with a popping noise. "How can I help you?"
Umaryn snorted. "We walked all the way up those stairs just so you could sit in your chair? You couldn't talk to us in the courtyard, or the entry chamber?"
Samrale shook his head as if the suggestion was preposterous. "No Umaryn. There is a time and place for leisure, and a time and place for work. When we met in the courtyard, it was the time for leisure, and the place for relaxation. Here, in my study, I work. Now, I assist you. Everything in its place and time. As an Artificer you should know the value of organizing things."
"How did you know?" Umaryn asked, her mouth agape.
Samrale smiled, h
appy to be the clever one. "When you get to my age, you can smell The Way on a person a mile away. After a fashion, you can tell what flavor of pie they are, apple, blueberry, if you get my meaning." Samrale's eyes drifted over to Malwynn and lingered for just long enough to let the young man know his greatest secret was already laid bare to the old man. Mal hid a shiver, but he was sure the old man knew that too.
"Fascinating," Chelsea and James said in unison.
"What brings you to my chambers this day? You speak of a potential relative here at House Kulare. Family. What is their name?"
"Weston Fireborn," the twins said one after the other.
The old man inclined his head, and examined the faces of the twins in the crowded room. "Yes yes. I see it now. Mostly in you, young man. There's a resemblance, but it is fleeting. In the hairline, and your jaw. Assuming of course Weston hasn't muddled with his already fine appearance today."
"Muddled his face?" Umaryn asked.
"Weston is a gifted master of the transformative arts. Illusions and alterations are his greatest talent. But I imagine I should let you ask him these questions yourselves. Follow me. I'll take you to one of our empty classrooms, and once Professor Fireborn is done with his class, I shall fetch him for you, and tell him of your claim to family relationship. This isn't about a financial matter, is it?"
The Motive for Massacre (The Kinless Trilogy Book 2) Page 14
