“Well,” Mirza began, “you know what Calestis always says-”
The three youths looked at each other and grinned. “Becoming a Matus is not just about touching the elements of Mater that reside in the world around us,” they recited in their best all-knowing imitations of their Teacher. “Becoming a Matus is to learn from the Ashishin before us who have wielded Mater unto their own demise like the Skadwaz. After all, Mater is more than just the elemental force that resides in everything and drives our world. It drives all worlds. Just as present action dictates our future, so does history dictate our present.” They all burst into laughter afterward, Mirza’s gaunt face going red, and Danvir’s guffaws making a rumble in his broad chest. Tears streamed from Ancel’s eyes.
“At least the seats you took up in my class have not been a total waste of space.”
Ancel jumped at Teacher Calestis’s voice, his laughter coming to an abrupt end. His two friends gave the bent old woman wide-eyed stares. Calestis drew herself up straight, her golden eyes stern, and tapped her staff on the cobbles. The youths all began stumbling over themselves with apologies.
“Nonsense,” Teacher Calestis said, waving a dismissive hand, “I do tend to ramble on, but you three have remembered an important piece of your training. So, I will let you have your moment.” They all breathed easier. “However,” she continued, “Should I have any issues from you in class at any time, your parents will be informed about you making fun of the Teachers. A disrespect well worthy of a chore penance I’m sure. Now off with you.”
Given a reprieve, they didn’t wait to have it withdrawn. They scampered away, heads held down.
Ancel glanced over his shoulder once to see Calestis shambling off in the opposite direction. He was tempted to run after her and tell her about the creatures and what he suspected. Coming to a swift decision, he turned. Before he could take a step, a hand grabbed his arm. He looked around to see Mirza.
Mirza shook his head. Ancel had wondered how his friend could act all day as if nothing happened. Now he saw the truth. Mirza’s slate-colored eyes bore the same concern as his, but somehow he did a better job of hiding it. Ancel nodded, and they followed Danvir who was in the process of righting his clothes again after the short run.
They travelled along Learner’s Row, and its multitude of buildings, practice areas, and side streets packed tightly together where Teachers held classes and lectures for a variety of arts. The dense gathering of structures often made the Mystera appear to be a miniature village within Eldanhill. Ancel often wondered if the other Mysteras in other towns and cities were similarly built.
Weaponmasters, bearing the Lightstorm insignia on their breast, drilled soldiers in enclosed spaces between the buildings, each practice area large enough to hold two hundred men. In other sections, Teachers practiced Materforgings with students, teaching them how to grasp the essences and direct earth, fire or light in various applications from lighting a torch to opening a pit in the ground. Yet others taught more mundane tasks like cooking to more advanced like apothecary and alchemy.
The students walking ahead through the Mystera were mostly dressed in earthy yellow or beige uniforms, the men in tunics and pants, and the women in dresses that stopped below the knees. Among them soldiers stood with their chests puffed out in their deep blue garb, golden shield and sword pins shiny upon their breasts. Ancel’s eyes shone with admiration as he watched them strut among the students. The Teachers kept to the other side of the Row, most striding with a purposeful gait in their pristine white robes.
Ancel noted the vast majority of students still bore the book and pen insignia stitched or pinned onto their breast or shoulder denoting them as novices. Remembering when he once displayed the same, he smiled and fingered the silver sword on his lapel, puffing himself up with thoughts of his promotion to trainee. With the memory, a longing for Irmina flashed through his mind. He touched his breast pocket.
A step away from a Matus. One more step. Then I’ll earn the right to petition a Weaponmaster to be trained as a Dagodin. He smiled inwardly with the thought as his dreams swept away to a more ambitious status. A Dagodin so I can graduate from the Mystera and study either in Calisto or at the Iluminus to become an Ashishin. Then I’ll join the Pathfinders. No one will be able to stop me from finding her then. His smile grew wider.
“You know, I would hope that look meant you’re eyeing some new girl,” Mirza said, his lips pursed. “But knowing you the way I do, that’d just be wishful thinking on my part.” He sighed as Ancel offered no reply. “Hey Dan, who’s escorting us with the delivery?”
Danvir’s eyes twinkled and his mouth twisted into a slow grin. “Headspeaker Valdeen.”
Mirza cackled. A groan escaped Ancel’s lips. The last thing he needed was to be in the company of Alys’ father especially after what happened the evening before.
“There’ll be several guards coming with us to help protect this year’s delivery because of the recent feuding between us and Doster. Maybe-”
“You know, Dan,” Mirza interrupted. “You always say us when you speak about Sendeth, but-”
“Yes, yes, I know,” Danvir retorted. “I swear you listen to your father too much about how they treat us. We pay taxes and tribute to King Emory regardless. And the whole of Whitewater Falls belongs to him, Eldanhill included. Whether we’re far north and behind the King’s back as people like to say, it doesn’t matter. We pay all the same. Think on it.” Danvir gave Ancel a sidelong glance, his annoyed expression changing to a grin. “Anyway, as I was saying, maybe Ancel can huddle with the soldiers so Master Valdeen doesn’t get to questioning him about his plans for his daughter.”
“My chances of avoiding that man are about the same as us running into Dosteri raiders,” Ancel grumbled. “Slim to none.”
“Well, I’d suggest you make nice with Alys before we leave then,” Mirza said, making a humping motion.
Danvir chuckled, clapping Mirza on the shoulder hard enought to make him stumble.
Ancel ignored his friends, staring off toward where the girl rounded the corner off Learner’s Row onto Henden Lane on her way home. The end of the Row split into several streets that meandered through this side of Eldanhill before they met the Eldan Road. Houses great and small, all sandstone or brick with tiled roofs, painted in white shades or dull yellows lined the roads. The citizens of Eldanhill bustled about the streets, busy with their preparations for the upcoming harvest celebrations. For a moment, he thought about hurrying after her before he changed his mind.
“He has more women on his mind than he knows what to do with,” Mirza’s distant voice said.
Ancel stopped walking. His friends stood a few feet behind him both acting as if they did not see him.
“Happens to the best of us,” Danvir quipped, “or so my Da says.”
“Does this mean we’re better than him?” Mirza nodded toward Ancel.
Danvir rubbed at his clean-shaven chin, his face feigning seriousness. “I don’t know, maybe he just needs a class in how to love them and leave them. Let them do the chasing. Maybe, you and I…”
Ancel couldn’t take anymore. Yelling, he chased after his friends as they ran off laughing.
CHAPTER 12
Ancel and his friends spent the better part of the next hour startling numerous merchants and townsfolk along the cobbled streets. Most were lost in preparation for the Soltide festival or busy hawking their wares.
Those who recognized them swore to tell their parents or chased them with brooms and switches. Their fun and nuisance making finally stopped after the town watch became involved. When they saw the gray uniforms advancing down Market Row onto Thanairen Square, they snuck off through one of the many back alleys crisscrossing Eldanhill. A short while later, they parted ways, and Ancel headed home.