THE BLACK BIRD STOOD ON ITS PERCH WITH ITS imperial presence, letting out a regal yell that electrified the hearts of all who stood in its company. The students communed with each other, most of them curious as to the nature of the odd woman’s visit. Siel interrupted their gossiping.
“This is Prebansa, the great Mor,” he said. “We Davinians have had a symbiotic relationship with the Mors since the beginning of the Order. They know of things that are not known to us, as we know of things that are foreign to them. Together, we complete all knowing. Prebansa, we are humbled by your visit to our school. I’m sure that you’ll perform your part with truth. Please bid me the opportunity to address my students regarding the rules of the testing.” Prebansa sounded off with its golden beak as a reply to his friend.
“Everyone, I’ll make this brief,” Siel said. “We must make haste for various reasons. In a few minutes we’ll begin, and all who are called by the Mor will be required to respond immediately to the examination circle, bow to the officials, and begin with their forms. There are few things to keep in mind, Jubahns. First, all forms must be performed perfectly. As you know, during testing, you’ll not be given a chance to redo a form if you fail to execute it the first time. There is truth behind this reasoning, for in real combat, there are no second chances. All forms will be performed perfectly regardless of the reason. There are no excuses!
“Second, all forms must be performed at full strength, speed, and power. Don’t hold back, or you will be held back. Third, it’s no secret that if you fail the testing, we will re-evaluate your level of mastery and decide the length of time needed before another examination is given. And lastly, though it seldom happens, and according to his will and authority, the Mor is capable of withholding your name from being announced, thus denying you the opportunity to test for your blade. This is as it has always been and as it always will be. I have confidence that everyone will test, so do place your thoughts on other things, specifically your forms. And so another year of examinations will commence, but I’ll grant you a short recess to gather your thoughts.”
The students dispersed to their respective places, like an army of ants scrambling about when their anthill has been disturbed. As Luca made his way to the Bunish corner, he saw his friends waiting for him.
“I would like details, please,” Pabru said.
“Then you’re out of luck,” Luca said. “I won’t talk of things that need not be mentioned.”
“But we’re your friends,” Pabru replied. “You can tell us. Who was that beast of a woman?”
“Her name is Lady Malasorta,” Luca said.
“She’s from the sunless land, isn’t she?” Lereh said, who had unexpectedly walked up behind Luca with Luleh trailing behind.
“So far as we know,” Luca said.
“What did she want?” Vehru said.
“Are you to leave?” Luleh said with an honest worried look.
“No, he’s not,” Lereh said. “I won’t let her take you.” Her remark gave out a multitude of meanings. “I meant that she has no right to claim any Davinian for herself.”
“I agree with her,” Vehru said, garnering a warm smile from Luleh.
“Enough of this talk,” Luca said. “Gossip is best left to fairer things. Nothing this dark should be mumbled under our breaths, so, drop it.”
“If you say so,” Pabru said.
“He’s right,” Lereh said. “No need for us to stir things up more than they already are, especially if they come from shadow.”
“You sound like you know something of that,” Vehru said.
“Traveling alone throughout the lands makes one weary of the shapeless things hiding beyond the darkness of a night’s fire. If you only knew the land as well as us, you’d understand.”
“How long have you been traveling so?” Luca said, curious about his newfound crush.
“Since we were little,” Luleh said. “Mother made it a habit to take us with her during her travels as a Scribe of Heatheranla.”
“Your mother was a scribe?” Luca said.
“Oh, yes, one of the best,” Luleh said. “She was well liked, and she was popular, not just in Heatheranla but in most provinces. So we went with our mother whenever work called her to far-off places.”
“And your father?” Pabru said. “What of him?”
“He’s dead,” Lereh said abruptly, turning her eyes to Luleh.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Luca said. To break the awkwardness brought about by Lereh’s remark, Luca moved on to something else. “Do any of you take up the pen as well?”
“No,” Lereh said, with a simultaneous “Yes” from Luleh.
“Well, which one is it?” Vehru said.
“My sister denies it, but she likes to write certain things here and there,” Luleh said.
“Me too,” Luca said, and it almost seemed as if Lereh gave a hint of a smile. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what do you write about?”
“Well, I read a lot about the blade arts and the different styles,” Lereh said proudly. “But I don’t write much about that. I’m also fascinated with history and legend, specifically the cosmos and all the planets, and of course the stars. I’m mostly fascinated with the old tales of the Umbradors; I write mostly about them—from time to time, that is.
The boys were quiet.
“The Umbrawhat?” chimed in Pabru.
“The Old Stars,” Vehru clarified. “Didn’t your parents ever teach you, Pabru? It’s old stuff, from the beginning. You don’t remember about the tales of the Elder Stars and how each one of us has a star that corresponds to our soul; and that long ago, many stars came down from the sky and roamed the land before the age of men? There are a slew of books on the subject.” Luleh was taken aback by Vehru’s impressive historical knowledge.
Pabru burst out in laughter. “So you write fables?”
“Call it what you wish,” Lereh said, “but taking the amount of witnesses I’ve interviewed across the land, my logic only points me to something probable.”
“What? They’ve seen stuff?” Pabru said.
“Everyone sees something now and then, especially in shadow,” Luleh said.
“I would like to run up on an Umbrador one day,” Vehru said, “if only to satisfy my—”
But Luca interrupted, as if he had not even heard anyone speaking except for the voices inside his head. He was elated! “So you write about Umbradors?!”
Lereh was surprised with Luca’s interest. “I write what I can, when I can,” she said. “What do you know about them?”
“I’m fascinated with the old cosmic tales,” Luca said. “My father talks of the Elder Stars on occasion, but he’s never really taught me anything about them. He says he will one day, but he hasn’t yet.”
“What’s there to teach?” Pabru said. “It’s all nonsense.”
“But it’s interesting,” Luleh said.
“It’s more than just interesting,” Lereh said.
“It’s another world,” Luca replied.
Lereh had a slight sense of joy, for she now had something in common with Luca, but she did not make this known.
“Would you show me some of what you’ve written one day?” Luca said. He noticed a small medal hanging from a sparkling chain around Lereh’s neck. “You can tell me about the medal you wear; I’ve noticed that. Is that not a drawing of an Umbrador?” Luca inched his head forward to get a better look.
“I wouldn’t get too close,” Pabru said. “You’re getting near a blade’s length, and Lereh doesn’t seem like the type to allow anyone to invade her personal space.”
“That’s the smartest thing your friend has said all day,” Lereh said. “So let’s not get too friendly, Jubahn. I’m not eager to share anything with a sixth-blade.” All the attention she was getting seemed to have closed her off, reddening her cheeks. “What do you care about this medal anyway?”
“Nothing, never mind,” Luca said, obviously disappointed. After an awkward moment, Lereh walked a
way from them feeling somewhat embarrassed.
“Pay no attention to my big sister,” Luleh said. “She’s not fond of talking about herself.”
“I meant no harm,” Luca said, mad for being so clumsy with words. I have no idea what I’m doing. He lowered his eyes and tightened his jaw.
“Forget about her, Luca,” Pabru said. “Let’s worry about our final blades, our Rasplendurs.”
“You’re right,” Luca said, trying to forget about the red-haired beauty. He turned his eyes upward only to be met by the giant bird’s commanding gaze.
Luleh sensed a cloud of uneasiness interfering with Luca’s thoughts, and he seemed to be losing confidence. “Are you all right, Luca?”
“What if the Mor doesn’t call my name?” Luca said. “It felt dark when it flew in. Look at it. It keeps staring at me.”
The Jubahns glanced at the bird sitting atop the golden perch with its imposing eyes staring back at them.
“You see, I don’t think it likes me,” Luca said. “What if it has something against me? What if it’s in league with Lady Malasorta?”
“It sounds like you’re fishing for conspiracies,” Vehru said. “The Mor is a good friend of the Servantu Alta, and if Siel doesn’t suspect anything, you shouldn’t either.”
Luca glanced over towards Siel and saw his master sitting in his chair pondering, resting his head on his fist, and he noticed that Siel’s focus was on the colossal bird perched up in front of him. Maybe the master did suspect something.
“Humph,” Luca said.
“Come on, Luca,” Pabru said with a sly smile. “Let’s worry about this when all three of us are servantus—when we are men.”
The three friends made their way back to the Royal Province of Bune’s tent, where they found a quiet spot to themselves to sit and put their thoughts on their upcoming exam.
Sword from the Sky Page 8
