Ancient World: Chapter Two revised

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Chapter Two

“What, in Gameald’s name, do you think you are doing, Master Mayl?” Nerissa’s voice was tightly controlled, and she stared down at the immobile, wide-eyed figure in frigid fury. Her hands were raised slightly before her, palms facing downwards and fingers flexed as though she grasped invisible cords holding Master Mayl in place.

“Have you no modicum of respect, no scrap of self-control? Must you constantly allow your muscle to override whatever minimal organ nature deigned to place between your ears? Get up!” The stasis was abruptly released, and Master Mayl flopped the final few inches to the hard ground with a dull thud. He rolled gracelessly to his knees, then stood on unsteady legs and backed a few quick paces away from the seething Mage. Darian had witnessed – and indeed experienced – his elder sister’s anger before, and he felt a deep, warm rush of satisfaction watching Master Mayl quail beneath her gaze.

As he slowly regained full control over his mental faculties, Darian’s mind alighted on Master Mayl’s earlier words.

“Nerissa,” he said before his mind caught up and questioned the wisdom of speaking just then, “he said the -”

“Silence, Darian!” Nerissa barked, without so much as turning to glance at him. Darian gulped, and moved to stand slightly behind Corenna, thinking to perhaps use her slight form as a human shield against his sister’s ire. His friend dropped her hand from her cheek at his approach, and he winced in sympathy at the dark bruise already forming beneath her eye. She straightened her back and folded her arms across her chest, her eyes fixed upon Nerissa and her father.

“Well?” Nerissa demanded in a deceptively soft tone.

Master Mayl lifted his chin defiantly, and folded his own arms across his chest. Darian would never mention it to Corenna, valuing their friendship – and his life – above anything, but he could not help noticing in that moment the similarities between father and daughter.

“C’hal Nerissa, the girl refused to come home, where she belongs.” Master Mayl growled finally, absently rubbing at his rear where it had collided with the ground. “She cannot stay in the Academy now. We have accepted her childish notions and allowed her some freedom against our better judgement for long enough. I do not believe this place to be safe for my daughter any longer. She must come home, and yet she refuses like an impetuous child.” He slowly regained confidence with every word, the anger he had previously expressed overcoming his fear.

Corenna shifted uncomfortably, and shot Darian a slightly worried glance. For Corenna to allow even that much to show in her expression was an indication of intense anxiety. Darian gave her a bright smile of reassurance, and began to chew anxiously on a thumbnail when she turned away. Surely they would not force Corenna to return with that man. Would they?

Nerissa smiled coldly. “You would not recall this, Master Mayl, since you were conspicuously absent at the time, but Corenna was underage when she first asked to enrol as an initiate of the Salonrian army. Now, under normal circumstances, we would send such a child immediately back to its parents until it had reached its fifteenth Nameday, or enrol it as a general student until that time. Corenna, however, was – and still is – a very courageous, determined young lady, and demanded an audience with the Council to plead her case. There were a number of troubling gaps in the account she put forth of her time with you and her mother, Master Mayl, but what she did tell was more than enough to convince the Council to accept full guardianship of the child until she came of age.

“I do believe a letter was sent to your home, detailing this decision and the reasons behind it, and also offering you the opportunity to counter the judgement should you feel justified in doing so. Since we received no response, the Council readily proceeded. I must say, Master Mayl, that nothing you have done in the intervening years has done anything to suggest an erroneous decision on the part of the Council. And the display I just witnessed has certainly done little to assuage my concerns.”

Master Mayl was frowning darkly by the time Nerissa finished speaking. One finger scratched at his greasy scalp while he struggled with whatever thoughts were passing through his mind, an action Darian had always assumed was done only in jest.   

“The Council that made this decision does not even exist anymore!” Master Mayl shouted triumphantly then, grinning in satisfaction. Both Darian and Corenna gasped at this, and Nerissa stiffened visibly.

“Go home, Master Mayl,” she commanded quietly, in a tone like ice. “Corenna will not be leaving with you, now or ever. She is a part of the Salonrian army, and as such is entitled – nay, obliged – to stay here in that capacity, whether you wish it or not. On a personal note, I would like to add that were that not the case, I would assume responsibility for the girl before I allowed her to return with you. You are welcome to contend the ruling, Master Mayl: I am sure the Council would be absolutely fascinated to hear what you have to say for yourself.”

There was a long pause as Master Mayl glared threateningly at Nerissa, who calmly returned his gaze, his mouth hanging open unattractively as he tried to find an appropriate response.

“Good luck to you, then,” Master Mayl finally grunted. “You’ll find out soon enough that the little bitch is more trouble than she is worth. I think I will leave now – we
don’t want to be travelling through the night in such times, do we? Come, woman.”

With the manner of a man calling his dog to heel, Master Mayl snapped his fingers negligently towards his wife, then turned and stormed away across the now almost-empty courtyard without looking back. Mistress Mayl’s eyes darted from departing husband to expressionless daughter for a moment. She took one step towards Corenna, and raised one hand to softly brush her cheek. Corenna closed her eyes, and turned her head very slightly away from that touch.

“Don’t,” she said quietly.

Her mother let her hand drop to her side. “Corenna. I…I’m -”

“Gracele!” The angry yell cut off whatever Corenna’s mother had been about to say, and she let out a little high-pitched yelp before trotting quickly away, almost falling in her eagerness to reach her husband.

A short time passed as Corenna, Darian and Nerissa stood silently watching the Mayls hurrying away, until they passed out of sight altogether. The midday sun beat brightly down upon the courtyard, and a light breeze scattered the last vestiges of smoke from the funeral pyres. There were still a fair number of small groups of people milling about, but the courtyard was far emptier now. Some would be returning home immediately, but both Academies had made arrangements for quarters to be made available for those wishing to stay and make the journey at first light. Many of those, Darian supposed, would be making their way to the dining halls now. The kitchens were bursting with the amount of food required for so many extra people, and the staff had been rushed off their feet in the past few days preparing for the expected numbers.

Nerissa turned towards Corenna with a soft sigh. “Are you alright?” she asked gently. She lifted Corenna’s chin with one finger to examine the bruise, though Darian knew that was not what she was talking about. Corenna took a deep breath that trembled only slightly, then let it out in a rush.

“I am fine,” she muttered, and shied her head away from Nerissa’s considering eye, “do not waste your energy healing it. But…um…thank you. Did you mean what you said? The Council will not make me go back to them?”

Nerissa nodded. “I cannot guarantee that you will be granted entry to the army – that’s up to Captain Bryn – but you will not have to return home, now or ever, I promise you that.”

Darian could almost see the tension seeping from Corenna’s muscles. She smiled gratefully, and Darian gave her arm a quick squeeze. Nerissa continued to silently regard Corenna with dark, serious eyes for a few seconds longer. Then she looked at Darian.

“Are you alright? It looked like you hit your head quite hard.”

“You saw that?” Darian gaped at his sister indignantly. “Why didn’t you catch me like you did him? ‘Tears, I deserve it more!” He cut himself off as her expression immediately soured.

“You, my dear, were the least of my concerns just at that moment. Please do not question me, Darian.” She raised one hand and slowly rubbed her temples as she spoke, and for the first time Darian noticed how weary she appeared. Her sandy hair, usually left to fall in waves over her shoulders, was tied back in a loose braid, and her face was pale and drawn.

“Have you slept?” he asked cautiously, uncertain if that constituted questioning her.
Confusion passed momentarily across his sister’s features. “When?” she asked. Her attention drifted towards an upper window in the South Wing.

Darian’s brow furrowed at the odd question. “Um…any time in the past two weeks, perhaps?”

“A little,” she responded distractedly. “Darian, there are things I must do. I have had to send Shayla to the Hospital wing, would you visit her there and make sure she is alright?”

“Why is she there?” Darian asked quickly, frowning in concern for his twin. “Did something happen.”

“No, not exactly. It’s been a difficult day for her. She was simply exhausted, as far as I could discern, but I do not want to take the risk of it developing into something more serious. Will you see her?”

“Of course,” Darian nodded. Nerissa gave him a small smile in return, and kissed him lightly on the forehead.

“Thank you. I will be making myself available for counselling over the next few weeks. You know you are always welcome to come and talk to me. Both of you. I must go now, though. You should probably eat something.” She winked very faintly at Corenna as she said it, then turned immediately and hurried off towards the South Wing of the academy. Darian watched her walk away. He was concerned about how tired she looked, and felt a little ashamed that he had not noticed earlier. He supposed he had been too wrapped up in other things. Although, now he thought about it, he had seen very little of his older sister in the past weeks.

Everyone of any import in the Academy – Mages, what was left of the Council, even most of his teachers – had been busy trying to work out what had happened. More importantly, they wanted to know how it had come to pass that so many high-ranking Councillors and Mages had lost their lives in one fateful night. Still, that was no reason to ignore sleep entirely. Tired people made mistakes, and mistakes could cause accidents, and the Ancient World had had quite enough of those to last them an Age.

Corenna sighed deeply, and Darian pulled his eyes away from the dark speck that was Nerissa to regard his friend. She, too, was watching Nerissa’s departing back, but her expression revealed only deep respect, and a tiny trace of what could only be described as longing.

“Can we go to lunch?” she asked when Nerissa finally disappeared into one of the distant doorways. She started walking towards the large main entrance to the East Wing.

“So, Shayla’s has another of her little ‘spells’, has she?” she sneered when they were half way across the courtyard. Darian glanced sharply down at her, his steps slowing.

“Must you? Today? Really?” he sighed.

“No, I mustn’t,” she replied sweetly, “but that has never stopped me before. Come on, Darian, she is in and out of the hospital wing like a rabbit in its hole. I know she’s fragile and delicate and all that, but really! ‘It’s been a difficult day or her’? It has been a difficult day for everyone! You do not see C’hal Kynaris being carted off to the hospital wing, do you?”

“I don’t suppose you want to come with me to visit her, then?”

“You are not actually expecting an answer to that, are you?” Corenna’s mouth was twisted up into a smile, but Darian knew her well enough to appreciate that her acerbic commentary was a way of masking her own angst. She would never admit it, but the day’s events had affected her deeply; her dark eyes belied her light words and amused expression.

“She sang beautifully, of course,” Corenna admitted grudgingly. She looked down distastefully at her simple black dress. “We need to make a detour. I want to change before we eat. I had forgotten how ridiculously impractical skirts are. How does anyone manage to get anything done in them?”

“Oh, most ordinary women seem to get by well enough,” Darian said with a grin that fell quickly from his lips when she jabbed her sharp little elbow into his ribs.

*

It took about half an hour for Darian and Corenna to return to their respective quarters and doff their formal black garments. Darian folded his black shirt and breeches and laid them neatly on his bed before pulling on a simple pair of brown leather breeches and a fresh white shirt. He sighed deeply and quickly splashed his face and neck with warm water from the washbasin. Some of the tightness had faded from his shoulders and neck, as though removing the black clothing had drained some of the day’s gloom from his mind. What had happened was tragic, and it would affect the Ancient World for many years to come, but as C’hal Kynaris had said, life must go on regardless. Besides, if truth were told, the changes would affect Darian himself very little.

He smiled wryly at that pragmatism he knew few would welcome. He was sad, of course, and would be for some time, but it was not in his nature to let such things incapacitate him. Despite being his twin, Shayla was quite the opposite in some ways; he found it difficult to understand her extreme sensitivity, and that sometimes made it difficult to sympathise with her periodic bouts of emotional delicacy that unavoidably affected her physically as well.

He ran his fingers through his hair to push the wet strands out of his eyes, though they would inevitably fall straight back to that preferred location, clinched a dark brown belt about his waist and tied on his small leather pouch. Satisfied that he looked at least moderately presentable, he hurried to meet Corenna, who would certainly have wasted no time removing the dress she found so abhorrent and donning something more practical; Corenna’s concern for propriety was somewhat limited. She stood impatiently at the foot of the stairs, dressed much as Darian had expected in fitted grey breeches and a dark grey bodice over a white shirt. A short dagger hung at her hip, and the hilt of two others protruded from the tops of her soft black boots.

“You took your time,” she complained predictably. “If you were attempting to make yourself pretty I must inform you that you failed miserably. What have you done to you hair?”

Darian ducked away from the strong little fingers that reached up to reorganise his unruly locks. “Leave it alone,” he said, “it’s perfectly happy where it is.”

“Yes,” she agreed as she turned to make her way towards the dining hall, “that is the problem.”

Darian had argued with himself extensively over whether to tell Corenna what he had seen that morning or not. While he was quite sure it had been nothing but a figment of his overactive imagination and wrought nerves, there was some small niggling doubt in his mind that this fully explained the apparition. It took some minutes for he and Corenna to find seats together in the student dining hall, which was unusually crowded with a number of citizens choosing to stay at the Academy overnight following the funeral. By the time they squeezed onto the end of one of the long wooden benches and set their bowls of steaming meat stew on the table, Darian was no closer to a firm decision. Still lost in thought, he nibbled at the corner of his bread roll and watched Corenna attack her lunch with unreserved and dreadfully unladylike ferocity.

“I think you may have been spending just a little too much time around soldiers, Corenna,” he said lightly, more to fill the silence than anything else.

“Are you trying to say I eat like a pig, Darian dear?”

“I would never say such a thing, but now that you bring it up… Would you like to try swallowing before you speak next time?”

Corenna smiled humourlessly, then wiped the last of her bread around the bottom of her bowl and popped it into her mouth with a sound of deep satisfaction. “That is better. Now, do you want to tell me what has been bothering you since the funeral, or are you going to continue to tiptoe around and imagine I will not notice something is wrong?”

Darian met her gaze, noting the hint of accusation in her dark eyes and attempting to keep any surprise at her perception from showing in his own.

“I’m not sure, exactly, to be quite honest.” He pushed his bowl away; he had no appetite. Corenna surreptitiously pulled it towards her without looking down and began picking out the chunks of meat with her fingers. Darian, trying to ignore her blatant disregard for etiquette, cast his mind back over the morning. His stomach dropped and a fresh wave of sorrow washed over him at the unnecessary reminder of the tragic loss the Ancient World had suffered. He groped for the words to explain what he wanted to say without sounding like he had lost his mind. “Did you notice anything…strange, at the end of the funeral? While Shayla was singing, and the…they…the pyres were lit?”

“You mean around the time you shrieked like a girl? I assume you are talking about something other than that madwoman gibbering about seeing ghosts?”

“In a way, no, actually.” Darian sighed and nibbled on his thumb, still unsure of how much he should say. “You truly didn’t see anything?”

“I truly did not see anything. Darian, I have no idea what you are talking about, would you please stop beating about the bush and tell me what is going on!”

“I thought I saw her too,” Darian said in a rush before he could change his mind. “C’hal Adriella, I mean. It was probably nothing. It was hot, we were all emotional, and it was very smoky out there. It was probably nothing at all, but…it frightened me, I suppose.” He cast his eyes upwards slowly, afraid to meet Corenna’s gaze.

She was staring at him with much the same expression the crowd around the woman earlier had worn. “You…what? Go back to the beginning, Darian. What happened, exactly?”

He glanced around the table to make sure no-one was within hearing range, then softly told he exactly what had happened, as well as he could remember.

“It looked like she was trying to speak to me,” he concluded, “but I couldn’t hear what she was saying. She touched me, here” he indicated his forehead, “and I felt it. Then the light was back, and she was gone.”

There was a sudden fluttering of tiny wings above them. Darian looked up, startled. A red nymph was hovering above his head, wings flapping furiously as it tried to rise up out of reach against the unseen force holding it in place. For a moment Darian merely gaped at it. He had never seen a free red nymph before.

“Darian! Catch it!” Corenna’s yell brought him quickly back to his sense. People on the tables around him were standing and craning their necks to peer in his direction, at the nymph struggling weakly and shimmering like burnished copper in the lamplight. No-one would try to catch another’s secret nymph whilst it remained locked in stasis, but the moment it broke free, it was considered fair game. With so many unfamiliar faces around him on a day like today, Darian wasn’t about to take that risk.

He stood quickly and raised his hands, cupping them as gently as he could around the tiny, frantic creature. It fluttered rapidly against his palms.

“Here,” someone to his left held out a small glass jar with a frown of disappointment. Darian brought his locked hands down over the opening and the nymph dropped in, lying dazed for a moment against the glass base. Darian quickly took the jar from the man before he could get any ideas – with strangers you could never be too sure – and ran his finger around the opening. It sealed itself smoothly into an unbroken, hollow glass cylinder. Darian slipped it carefully into his pocket, and then sat down with an attempt at nonchalance. He came out with red secrets all time! Nothing to get worked up about. Smiling calmly about the room whilst his insides roiled, Darian made sure everyone knew the drama was over, and his audience gradually decided their bellies needed their attention more.

Corenna was eyeing him with wide eyes when he finally sat down again and let the smile drop.

“Well, that was new,” she said. “Obviously there is something more to this…experience…that you realise. Under different circumstances, I would of course tell you without hesitation that you had actually gone stark raving mad,” Corenna said thoughtfully and without a hint of humour. “But clearly you were not alone in this experience, whatever it may have been. And the nymph certainly registered something.”

She glanced down at the table, her lips pressed together in thought. Then her forehead creased and she looked up quickly, focusing on some point to Darian’s right. She blinked and then shifted her gaze to Darian’s face.

“Darian, I had quite forgotten, but you did go a bit vacant at some point around that time. I assumed at the time that it was fairly characteristic Darian dopiness, but…listen, could you have fallen asleep standing up, and moved into a dream without realising it?”

“That was my first inclination,” Darian agreed, “but that hasn’t happened to me since my first few years groping about in the dark – quite literally – whilst I learnt at least some rudimentary control over my Gift. If it was dream, I would have recognised it as such immediately, I’m sure of it.”

“I have said it already, and I am sure I will say it a few more times before bed beckons, but it has been a difficult day, and I would not be hugely surprised if your control over your Gift slipped ever so slightly. Would that not account for what happened? I have not been able to shut the grumbling of the local birds out of my head since the funeral – they are irritated about the smoke, in case you are interested – and usually it would be a simple matter to shut them out. I think maybe everyone’s Gift goes a little wild at times like this.”

“I thought of that when it happened,” Darian said, and tugged on his earlobe as his mind whirred. “That still doesn’t explain why I didn’t recognise it as a dream. Falling into one accidentally is just about understandable, but once I’m asleep it’s familiar territory. It’s–” he groped for a way to explain “–it’s like wandering through the dormitories here at the Academy; all the rooms are basically identical to your own, yet subtly different. You recognise where you are, but there’s often something new and unusual to explore. There was nothing familiar about what I saw this morning, nothing I recognised. It scared me, and no dream has scared me since I was a small child struggling to understand my Gift. If it was a dream, it was like one I have never experienced before.”

“And I am sure telling someone about a dream has never raised a red nymph before, either? Darian, I will not pretend I know exactly what you are talking about,” Corenna admitted. She was regarding him with an unusually serious expression. “You know what you mean, however, and I trust your judgement. You have more control over you Gift than anyone I know, and if you say what you saw was not a normal dream, I believe you.” Her eyes narrowed then as a thought occurred to her. “Why did you not tell Nerissa?”

Darian sighed. “She’s got a lot on her mind at the moment. I didn’t want to give her anything else to worry about.”

“Well, if it really is something to worry about, do you not think she would rather be told than kept in the dark about something potentially serious?”

Darian shrugged, knowing as he did it that the response was wholly unsatisfactory. The truth was, he wasn’t sure why he had chosen not to tell Nerissa, just as he was unsure why he had resisted telling Corenna. It seemed wrong, somehow, to spread what he had seen about the Academy. Whether it was simply his own sense of self-preservation – becoming so overcome with emotion that one began to hallucinate could, after all, leave one rather open to ridicule – or something more acute that stayed his tongue, he could not be sure. 

“Like I said before, it’s probably nothing. If it was a dream, perhaps some unfamiliar type stimulated by unusual stress and emotion, I will find it tonight and put my mind at ease. If it’s not there, if I can’t find it…well, then it wasn’t a dream, and I’m sure there’s another simple explanation. If that’s the case, then I’ll consider consulting Nerissa, otherwise let’s not overburden her more than is necessary. I’m sure she has enough to contend with counselling and comforting everyone through this period of grief.” 

“I suppose…I suppose it was not really C’hal Adriella’s ghost you saw?”
Darian gave her a long look until she threw up her hands in surrender. “Alright! I was only half-serious. You never know, though. Are dreams not connected to death, somehow?”

His expression grew incredulous. He couldn’t help it, though his conscience and good sense screamed at him to hold his tongue. “Have you been hit about the head once too often on the training grounds, or have you so neglected your education that you actually believe there’s some factual basis behind what you just asked?” Darian said, and regretted it even before Corenna’s expression soured.

“I do not know as much as you, Darian. I think we are both quite aware of that so there is not really any reason to belabour the matter, is there? I know that if it really was a ghost, Nerissa should have been the one to see it, not you. But if it truly was not a dream, what other explanation is there? Unless you really have just lost your mind. Now if you will excuse me, it looks like some of my friends are heading towards the training grounds for the afternoon, and I think I will go with them and see if I can’t get hit about the head a few more times.”

In one smooth, graceful movement, she tipped the now meat-free remains of his stew into his lap. Then she stood and stormed away from the table without so much as glancing back to smirk in satisfaction at Darian’s spluttering reaction. He stared after her, with his mouth opening and closing soundlessly, for some moments after she had left the room, whilst cold stew dribbled thickly down his legs and onto the floor.