Chapter III

On Authroc's Wing

“You’ve been neglecting your duties.” The voice came from behind the young man who sat in a large wooden chair. He lifted his head to watch as a cloaked figure walked into the room, passed by him, and approached a far more opulent chair behind a desk. The room around them both was carved from stone and dimly lit by several candles scattered on shelves around the periphery.

The cloaked figure dropped a sheaf of parchment, wrapped in a leather cover tied with twine, upon the desk as if they were unburdening themselves of a tremendous weight. From beneath the hood of the robes, the young man could see two black eyes that stared accusingly from the shadows. The figure remained standing for a moment as they let their right index finger trail across the leather surface of the folder in a slowly moving straight line.

“You must think you’re special, don’t you?” The figure leaned in slightly, revealing a dark and well-trimmed beard as it pointed from beneath the hood. “The youngest Master of the Authrakallin Oracles ever to be appointed.” Those same dark eyes narrowed, and within hooded shadows, aged skin pulled up in a scowl of derision. “Just because you’re Toulam’s pet doesn’t mean you have what it takes to hold such a title-” The figure leaned in further and grit its teeth with disgust as it spoke the next word. “Boy.”

The young man sitting in the chair kept his eyes pointed forward and did his best to ignore the words of the cloaked man. He could feel himself gripping the wooden arms of his chair with biting fingernails. He did all he could to steady his heartbeat and breathing as well as not let his emotions bubble up in his face.

The robed figure turned to stand at the head of his desk, he lifted his fingers up to cradle them over his chest. The figure lifted his head slightly to look from beneath his hood. He watched the young man’s face intently and then slammed both of his hands onto the surface of the desk. This threatening impact caused the young man to jump in his chair.

As quickly as he jumped, the young man openly winced as he felt the figure’s ephemeral attentions flow over him. The robed man was reaching out daggers made of thoughts to rake and prod at his psyche. He let those invisible points scrape over the surface of the young man’s mind, slicing up the top-most defenses he could muster in such a short time.

The figure continued his telepathic interrogation until he finally found an unprotected and shadowed wound buried near the back of the young man’s mind. He thrust his probing daggers into this area drinking deeply of the hidden wellspring of inadequacy and fear lying within. The robed figure smiled broadly, not doing anything to hide the fact that he enjoyed the feelings he had finally found within the young man.

As immediately as the telepathic onslaught started, the robed man recoiled his invisible daggers back into his own mind. The robed figure used one of his corporeal hands to lift the hood away from his head and slumped down into his padded chair. With his other hand, he began to massage the hair above his upper lip in a self-satisfied fashion.

“We both know that your appointment to the title of Master was a mistake.” The older man continued to rub at his mustache as he flicked open the knot of twine of the folder in front of him. His long back hair reached to his shoulders and gray was beginning to gnaw away at his sideburns as well as a lock of hair near his widow’s peak. “All of us who have spent enough time to attain our titles know well that Toulam’s time with us is ending.” The man looked from the sheaf of revealed parchment to the young man’s face. “He’s a doddering old fool; age is catching up with him and his mind is slipping.”

The older man watched the younger man to see if he reacted at all to the words he just spoke but was disappointed at not seeing the reaction he wished. The young man kept his gray eyes focused forward, staring at some far-off horizon. He had closely cropped brown hair with shimmerings of blonde that caught the candlelight dancing at the edges of the room. His features were handsome as the roundness of youth was falling to the sophisticated jaggedness of age. The youth that the older man noticed made him repulsed at the young man’s impertinence, while at the same time drawing his attention in a strange mixture of jealousy and lust.

“Well, Leiros, what do you have to say about all of this?” The older man’s words were deliberately vague as he grinned while leaning back in his chair. He was hinting both at the statement he started the interrogation with as well as what he had just said about the Grandmaster. He wanted to see which Leiros would jump at first, and how he would try to defend himself or his mentor. He prodded the young man once more with an impatient, “Hmm?”

Leiros slowly let his gaze pull from a million miles away to focus directly upon the eyes of the older man. He took his time shifting forward in his seat until he was barely on the edge of it. He lifted his arms calmly up, letting the sleeves of his robes fall back, as he placed each of his elbows firmly on the older man’s desk. Even more slowly, he placed his right hand over his left in a tent on the desk and leaned in. He watched as the older man pushed back and pressed up against his chair. A very slight smile spread across Leiros' lips as he noticed the older man getting uncomfortable now that he was able to defend himself.

“If you and the other Masters think I am neglecting my duties, that is entirely your prerogative.” Leiros spoke calmly and slowly with as much decorum as he could muster, but the respect in his tone was lost. “Since we are all peers in standing here, it would be as much your duty to inform me of what I’m lacking, as it is mine to enact it.” Leiros let his hands fall to the table with a controlled thud. “Wouldn’t you say?” He cocked his head to the side while keeping his eyes focused like trained blades on the older man.

“As for your lack of faith in my abilities-” Leiros took a breath and began to lift himself up from his chair. “As I remember well from my years of training in this Order, it is the Grandmaster who has final say on who is and is not to attain the title of Master.” He got up to his full height and leaned on the desk to tower over the shifting older man. “If Toulam believes that I have what it takes to hold such a title, it is not up to you to dispute it. After all, it would be most uncomfortable for you — I would presume — if I were to have your title revoked because I found you wanting. Would it not?” He leaned further in and narrowed his eyes. “If it were left to us Masters to take each other’s titles, would not our entire Order fall into chaos? We wouldn’t want that, now would we, Master Gwain” He opened his eyes fully, revealing his angered intent with contracted pupils.

Gwain shifted in his seat and leaned fully back against the padded fabric of his chair. The older man held his hands up against his chest almost like limp claws ready to jump forth and rake at Leiros’ face. The look on his face and his body language revealed his disgust, his rage, and that same kind of strange lust towards the power that the young man was demonstrating over him. The last feeling, being revealed more in Gwain’s face more than his body, made Leiros feel sick to his stomach.

“As for your unfortunate words concerning our Grandmaster-” Leiros took in a deep breath, dropping his eyes to the sheaf of parchments on the desk. He couldn’t keep looking at Gwain as the old man began to lick his lips while his pupils dilated. “I would do well to remind you that wisdom comes with age and esteem comes from responsibility. Toulam has served as our Grandmaster for centuries longer than any other that has come before him.”

Leiros reached out with one of his hands, willing to cut into the old man’s space, and snatched up a handful of parchments. He lifted them up to cover Gwain’s face and let his eyes trail over the runes scrawled across them. They were nothing more than notes on some auguries he was commissioned to do for some nobles back in Morrthault City.

“Grandmaster Toulam has spent his life researching the works of our Order’s founder, Vhaltenesh. As such, he knows far more about how our Order should function, rather than someone who has spent their life rooting through entrails and manipulating nobles for coin.” He took a moment to calm his nerves so that he could keep his next words in a reserved tone. “My own researches into the works of Vhaltenesh has revealed the importance of a strong moral center to our work. We are the warrior-oracles of the Hoelatha people, after all. Would it not be a shame then if one of our Masters were to be accused of trying to undermine the leader of our Order?”

Leiros threw the parchments back on Gwain’s desk without care. He looked the old man square in the eye and openly snarled his contempt. He could feel his fingernails cut through the wood on the desk as he curled them and used his palms to push himself back up to his feet.

“Mentioning Toulam’s age isn’t a crime, boy.” Gwain’s spine had returned as he jumped forward and grabbed the edge of his desk with clawed hands. His eyes were fully dilated, and the dark brown of his irises could barely be seen. The look he held was more anger now than lust, and it made him slightly less repulsive in Leiros’ view.

“Claiming that he is inept at his duties is, however.” Leiros slammed his palms on the desk and delighted for a moment at the flinch that the older man gave. “Of course, you could just be mentioning your personal feelings concerning the Grandmaster. Maybe the word ‘doddering’ is charming in your view?”

He watched as Gwain leaned forward while sitting and placed both of his hands lightly on his desk. The older man smiled broadly and began to nod along with Leiros’ words while slowly lifting his chin higher up. Leiros pulled back with an open look of disgust and crossed his arms over his robed chest.

“So be it.” He closed his eyes and took a moment of calm and then opened them back up to stare from the side at Gwain. “I could always mention what you just did to me to the other Masters while I mention to Toulam how you think of him.” He held his eyes on Gwain as the older man furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Inform you of your adequacies as a Master of the Authrakallin?” Gwain gave out a cruel laugh after his words. “Oh, did I hurt your feelings, boy?” He lifted himself to his feet and leaned over his desk.

“No, not at all. As I mentioned a few moments earlier it is your duty as a Master to make sure I am fulfilling mine.” Leiros cocked his head to the side with a feeling of smugness, knowing that he had trapped Gwain in the web of words he was weaving. “Or are you getting too old for this? Maybe your memory is failing you? Maybe I can refer to you as ‘doddering’ in a charming way from now on?” He kept his arms crossed and swiveled his shoulders.

“Get to the point. What are you accusing me of?” Gwain was growing irate at being confused and not having the upper hand in the situation. He grabbed up the strewn parchments on his desk and hurriedly flung them onto the folder while slamming the leather cover back down.

“You are well-aware of the rules of our Order, the words set down by Vhaltenesh over a millennia ago, correct?” Leiros waited for Gwain to give a nod and an impatient flourish of his arm for the young man to continue. “Well, you would then be aware of one of the core tenets concerning the use of telepathy in our order. Specifically, that any member of rank shall not actively probe another’s thoughts.”

Gwain snarled and rolled his eyes at Leiros’ words. Obviously, the importance of one of the core laws of the Authrakallin didn’t matter much to him both in practice and in theory. He quickly tied up his folder with twine and leaned on the front of his desk with his hip while looking up at Leiros with as much condescension as he could muster.

“Poor boy, you’re still living in the dust of the past.” Gwain smirked openly as he lifted an upturned hand in mock supplication to Leiros and then quickly snatched it away. “Toulam has filled your head up with all that nonsense about Vhaltenesh but has never told you about the lessons of life. We don’t live a millennia ago, boy, we live in the world right now.” Gwain lowered his face to stare up through his brow at Leiros with that same smirk upon his lips. “Our Order is growing and moving in a new direction. The majority of Masters here have agreed that part of that growth involves embracing our powers of telepathy. Vhaltenesh existed in a time of fear of the unknown when the powers of Haeth were just being rediscovered. He was a narrow-minded fool who might have been necessary for his time, but not for this time.”

Leiros remained quiet with his arms still crossed over his chest. He took a small step away from Gwain’s desk but kept his posture commanding and his shoulders square. He had earlier feelings that the Masters were going against the teachings of their founder, but now hearing the words come directly from one of their mouths filled him with bittersweet satisfaction. He would remember every heretical word that would fall from Gwain’s corrupted mouth hoping to use it against him later.

“It is my job as a Master of this Order to use my abilities of telepathy to uncover the secrets that others store in their mind. We must guide others to proper paths and the best way to do that is to catch bad behavior before it starts. A proper oracle can’t have improper thoughts.” Gwain continued his idealistic monologue while leaning further upon his desk. He let that same arm he reached out towards Leiros earlier begin to snake in the air like he was conducting a symphony of moral supremacy. “It is a Master’s job to guide the Initiates of our Order. It is the Initiate’s job to guide the Neophytes. Ultimately, it is the Authrakallin’s job to guide all of Hoelatha society toward a better future. We must put away with all this savagery, and guide everyone to pure and harmonious thoughts.” Gwain let his snaking arm stop and then leveled an accusing finger toward Leiros. “No one should have to fear what we uncover, boy. That is unless they have something to hide.”

Leiros held his tongue and watched Gwain carefully as the older man continued to hold him beneath his accusing finger. The words he spoke were enough to send him into a blind rage for the ideological folly they represented, but he understood that irrationality wouldn’t work in this situation. People like Gwain only thought of the world in stark shades of power; either one had it or one had to submit to it. Gwain thought of himself has holding the power in this situation, if not all others. Leiros didn’t need the powers of Haeth to look into Gwain’s soul to see that it was filled to the brim with rot and narcissistic madness. The only way he could extricate himself from this situation without having the older Oracle constantly accusing him was to make his own power of self-defense known in a plain way.

“Surely, you and the other Masters aren’t planning to dispense with all of Vhaltenesh’s teachings, are you?” Leiros took back the step he had given and softened his features. He let his arms fall to his sides and leaned his head to the side to reveal his neck slightly. “If you want to usher in a new society, we have to keep what worked from the old. Would not the Lex Talionis that Vhaltenesh put down be upheld?”

Gwain gave a snort and gripped the far edge of his desk. “Of course, boy. I know that Toulam mutters his delusions into your ear and spins your morals right around, but we aren’t idiots. Propriety comes from the law, after all. We aren’t here to usurp the laws, we are only here to make sure they are enacted properly. We must make our Order dominant in society once more. What our society lacks is guidance, so we must provide that. We will always uphold the Lex Talionis set down by our ancestors.”

“Good.” Leiros closed in on Gwain’s desk while holding both of his hands out with the palms upturned. He lowered his stature slightly and let his shoulders slump as he neared the older man. “I’m glad to know that we can still speak a similar language in these changing times.” Leiros let his hands fall as he pressed the edge of his thigh against the desk and leaned slightly over the desk at Gwain. The older man remained nodding his approval at Leiros’ words.

With deft quickness, Leiros snatched the older man by the collar of his robes and pulled up upward and over the extent of his desk. Gwain tried to give himself leverage by grabbing at the wood of the desk but his hands slid easily over the surface. He soon found himself half over the desk, with only the tips of his toes touching the floor.

“By the laws set down by our founder, Vhaltenesh, in the Lex Talionis-” Leiros pulled the older man closer to his face by an inch and smiled. “If you ever so much as try to peer into my thoughts once more, I will challenge you to a formal certamen.” He lifted his free hand into a fist, raising it to Gwain’s eye level where the old man saw it and his eyes went wide with fear. “I promise you I will end your life in that duel. I won’t stop until I rip your fetid soul from its rotten moorings. I won’t stop there either, as I will shred your ephemeral existence until nothing is left; casting you into the void.”

Leiros let go of the older man’s collar, causing him to fall onto his belly on his desk. He stepped away and took a swipe with his leg at the chair he had sat on earlier. He cast the chair tumbling across the room to strike a nearby set of shelves. Several books fell and a crystalline orb tottered from its display to shatter upon the ground. He kept his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he took several more steps and then whipped around to level his own accusing finger back at Gwain.

“You would do well to keep yourself in check, Gwain. I know you’ll contact the other Masters sympathetic to your heretical views; go right ahead.” He took a sharp breath and raised his chin upwards in defiance. “You may think I’m some upstart, but I know my place in this Order. I am a Master who has earned his place of esteem here. I was selected by the Grandmaster who follows in our founder’s footsteps. I follow the laws and the wisdom set down by Vhaltenesh. I stand for the Hoelatha people, but I know that it is not my place to usurp their futures from them.” He felt adrenaline flow through his veins as electricity began to flow over his flesh. He could feel the powers of Haeth roaring within him, desperately wanting to break free. “I am sworn to the Hoelatha people’s defense as a gods-damned warrior-oracle! I am here not to guide them, not to lord over them, but to reveal the future for them and allow them to make their own decisions for what that future will be! My powers of Haeth are to give them a future and the strength of my staff is to defend them so that future comes to pass. Remember your place, Master Gwain, because you forget it.”

Leiros turned his back on the older man and marched out of the room. Each of his footsteps felt vindicated, but as each was taken a sense of dread began to gnaw at the back of his mind. He had made his allegiance and views known to someone who would undoubtedly use them against him. If he wasn’t already held in contempt by many of the other Masters, he would be held with hatred from now on. Life would be getting a lot harder for him with each passing day.

“Leiros, it is you who forgets.” Gwain’s voice was more of a groan as he lifted himself from his desk and began to preen at his robes. Leiros turned on his heels as he reached the doorway and looked back at the older man who was putting the folder and baubles on his desk back in order.

“What’s that, Master Gwain?” Leiros crossed his arms over his chest and leaned in the doorway. He used the toe of his boot to snag the edge of the wooden door and was preparing to slam it behind him.

“It is only the entire reason I summoned you here, boy.” Gwain lowered himself satisfactorily into his chair once more and tented his fingers over his desk. “Master Illena has mentioned to me that you’ve been neglecting your duties as Master of this Order. As such, I have decided to increase your workload today and henceforth. Master Olkva has been called to the Athim Glaciers for the next few months.” Gwain let his fingers fall to the surface of his desk and leaned back in his chair. He lifted one of his legs up over the arm as if languishing in his power. “You know that Olkva replaced Bhergom as the one who trained the Neophytes with their Authrocs, correct? Now that duty falls to you.”

Leiros let confusion overtake his features for a moment. It fell to Master Olkva to find a replacement among the Initiates of the Order if he was to be called away for a long period of time. Each Master of the Order was given a set responsibility of duties and Leiros’ was that of lore-keeping. He wasn’t aware of whatever lesson-plans that Olkva had in store for the students. He also hated being around the younger members of the Order as they always gawked at him for being so close to their age.

“I would remind you that this comes from Master Illena.” Gwain beamed under the words he ushered forth like a commanding invocation. “She is responsible for your further studies and is second in line to Grandmaster Toulam, isn’t that correct?” Gwain chuckled as he lifted his fingers up and began to examine the contents beneath his nails. “You are to report to the top of the Mesa immediately. Starting at Noon you will be giving the final examination in authvokan to the Neophytes. You best handle it well, their lives are in your hands.”

Leiros notched up his toe and brought Gwain’s door to his outstretched hand. He turned in a flurry of his robes and slammed the door shut behind him. He could hear the wood buckle and one of the hinges snap as he did so. It was now obvious that Illena had declared war on Leiros for daring to become a Master and being closer to Toulam than herself. It was equally obvious now that the Masters of the Order were committing to a war against everything Toulam stood for. If these wars were to begin, he would gladly meet it.

“As you say, Master Gwain. It’ll be done.”

For the Skaldts IV - The Music That Inspired This and Other Scenes in "On Authroc's Wings"

Spoiler :

Leiros at the Hands of the Masters: Puscifer - Remedy

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