Ancel’s loose-fitting clothes flapped about him as the winds howled and swirled like a crowd decrying some terrible act before a revolt. Eddies snatched at his cloak in an effort to fling him from his rocky perch high above the vast black plains and forests. He took a slow breath and forced his stomach to near silence.
Elemental power continued to roil across the sky as if the gods of Streams and Flows battled for supremacy. Ancel could imagine them and their fear inspiring visages clad in the finest armors, only their sparkling eyes showing through slits in their helms.
On one side, there would be Ilumni and Amuni wielding light and shade representing the elements of Streams. Ilumni’s power resonated in the lightning flashes and in the wan afternoon sun. Amuni’s taint bubbled everywhere, from the foliage below, infected and decaying with his shade, to the darkness choking the air. Even the sun appeared diminished in Hydae.
On the opposite side, Ancel pictured the twin gods of Flows lashing out together; their power sending prickles across his skin as if he stood naked on the ledge. Aeoli commanded the void, using the air itself to form the storm winds. Hyzenki paired with his sister in the fight, breaking the thunderheads to make water join the fray. Black rain pelted down before howling winds whipped the drops sideways like arrows shot from a million bows.
A loud, piercing chime echoed from the city like steel screeching against stone. Something metallic flew into the air, Mater shooting from it in sparkling glows. The winds, rains, and clouds swirled into a gigantic maelstrom above the city-.
A sharp tap on Ancel’s head knocked him from his daydream.
“Ancel!” shouted Teacher Calestis, drawing her slim staff back.
Ancel shook his head as his eyes focused on his surroundings. The expectant gazes from the Teacher and several students of varied ages, from youthful like himself to wizened and bent-backed like Calestis, greeted him. Mirza leered at him from his bench across from Ancel, his gray eyes a reflection of his expression. Besides the benches filled with students and the Teacher’s chair and table, the only other furniture in the room were a few bookshelves. Two windows in the yellow brick walls looked out onto Eldanhill’s cobbled streets.
Teacher Calestis rapped her staff into the floor with a dull wood on wood crack. “If Nerian the Shadowbearer was a Devout-a priest bonded in heart and soul to Ilumni-why did he forsake the Lord of light and answer the shade’s call? Why did he turn to Amuni?” Several students raised their hands, but Calestis ignored them all. “Ancel,” she said, pointing a gnarled finger and scowling, “This question is yours. Since the Teachings bore you so much, you must know all the answers.”
“He was misled into believing his people were betrayed and massacred at the Tribunal’s command. He convinced himself the Skadwaz had somehow crossed from Hydae and delivered Amuni’s power to him. Blinded by rage, he sought revenge, resorting to the use of shadelings,” Ancel answered without hesitation.
Galiana’s golden eyes twinkled. “And how did he persuade the remainder of those loyal to the light to follow his lead.”
“By the sword. However, a few did support his cause willingly, convinced of their retribution. Those who resisted were forced to fight or die. Once many saw Nerian could stamp his name in history as the first to reunite the world and return Ostania to its former glory, they accepted his rule. They ignored that he now wielded shade and all its horrors to do his bidding.”
Calestis gave him a small smile. “Well done.”
As soon as Calestis’s attention shifted elsewhere, Ancel allowed his thoughts to drift back to his daydream. Why did he keep having these images of a land that existed only in the stories? What city was that with its sparkling spires and streets lined with colonnades and fountains? His dreams the night before had also included the green-eyed beasts and the kinai rotting in their glen. What were those creatures? Could they really have been wraithwolves? He’d thought about approaching Teacher Calestis, but his father’s warning prevented him from doing so. Ancel sighed. He wished he had someone he could confide in. Ever since Irmina left Eldanhill, he dreamed more often than before. Without her to talk to, little made sense.
Thoughts about Irmina made his gaze drift to Alys Valdeen in time to catch her soft eyes regarding him. Her hair shone in as deep an orange as a brilliant sunset. Her eyes glittered, and she sniffed, turning away from his gaze.
“Thinking about Irmina again?” Mirza’s voice broke Ancel from his thoughts.
Ancel glanced around at his friend and saw Teacher Calestis had dismissed the class. Students headed to the doors, laughing and chatting amongst themselves, most happy to see the end of another day of learning.
“Something like that,” Ancel finally replied. “I wonder what she’s doing now. Did she complete her training? Did she pass the test? If she would at least write-”
“You would go running off to wherever she is,” Mirza quipped. “Or try to. Even if she was somewhere across the sea in Ostania.”
Ancel shrugged and stood.
“You know, you piss me off sometimes.” Mirza shook his head, his unkempt hair, the color of dirty red bricks, spilling about his shoulders. “I mean, you’ve been blessed to be with two of the prettiest girls in all Eldanhill and you moon over Irmina. The girl was as rough as any soldier. Me? I prefer them soft and supple like Alys.” Mirza’s gaze followed the girl who was now just leaving with a few friends.
Ancel’s lips twitched. “And here I was thinking you had no preference at all. We both know even one of the old apothecaries or retired Shin like Teacher Calestis would please you, wrinkles, warts, and all.”
Mirza stared at him, aghast. “I know Irmina addled your brains, but I didn’t think you lost all your senses. Here, let me run call Alys for you, maybe she can make you feel better some.” He made to run after the girls.
Ancel snatched at the arm of Mirza’s beige coat. “Don’t you dare.”
Mirza grinned. “That’s what I thought.”
They were the last to leave the building used as the Mystera’s main study hall. Bright afternoon sunlight greeted them accompanied by a breeze from the snow-capped Kelvore Mountains. The mountain range stretched as far as the eye could see to the north in this part of Granadia. No sooner had they stepped outside when ham-sized hands snatched Mirza at the door and twirled him as if he was a dancer at a ball. A body built like a draught horse, deep and broad of chest with legs that could be two of Ancel’s came into sight as Mirza tottered away in the opposite direction. Ancel burst out laughing.
“I hope you’re ready to spin the girls and dangle them on your knees.” Danvir Bemelle slapped his big hand on his thigh as Mirza stumbled to a stop. “We’re leaving this evening to deliver the kinai wine.”
“What?” Ancel’s eyebrows rose and his lips curved into a smile.
“Yes, my Da convinced yours he should let you go. He said it was best for your nineteenth naming day not to coddle you anymore.” Danvir tilted his head as he regarded Ancel with eyes of burnished copper, the one feature that might make a person overlook his bulbous nose. “Although, I’m not so sure. You still behave as if you’re pining away to me.”
“Wooo,” Mirza said, finally regaining his breath. “Taverns, wine, women, and song.” He rubbed his hands together. “Here we come. Oh, and yes, he’s still mooning over Irmina. As usual, he was lost in class.”
Danvir grunted, and rubbed at his oversized ears. “Did the old bag clip him on the head again?” He straightened his coat back into position, running his hands down the sleeves and nodded with satisfaction.
“You know it.” Mirza chuckled. “Then somehow he managed to answer a question about Nerian the Shadowbearer without missing a beat.”
Danvir let out an exasperated breath while combing his well-oiled, blond hair back until it fell neatly at his shoulders. “That nonsense again? I still don’t understand why we need to study history anyways. What does it all have to do with becoming a Matus.”