Chapter 6 – Respite

Liana stood on the steps to the Archon’s homestead. Their tower rose behind her, a marvel in a state known for agriculture and cattle stock. The architecture was predicated on the design of the Yiffandy Lighthouses to the west coast of the continent. Liana could observe the arches and waves of the blue-stone building for hours, had she not warded herself against the tower’s natural glamour. Bloodstone, magick was a pain more so than a pleasure nowadays.

The night was dull, the moon a waning crescent in the sky. Liana wore a formal suit, her top button undone and her tie loosened. She stood with a pipe in her left hand, but there were no leaves in it. Her hair was curled, the dark waves of it blowing in the faint breeze. She was glad she opted for flats for tonight’s dinner. There was sadly no suitor to impress or hunt at this dinner. Perhaps once she had a new ward she could go searching for a playmate; she’d slept in an empty bed for one too many seasons now.

For as much as Castoria do not possess the divine weather of the south-west coast, nor did it have the emerald green fields of Ayloria, the allure of Castoria was in its diversity. The great dividing range of mountains with sugar-dusted peaks contrasted with the powerful and stark architecture of an old civilisation of even older traditions. While the envoy would not make it to Wesridge, the last piece of civilisation before the Iridescent Wastes and home to the third largest Guild Hall within the commonwealth, it was a strong possibility that some of the natural wildlife will be spotted on the way to the Royal’s prize.

Liana tapped her pipe to her chin. The realm had been changing, faster than anything the old guard could conceive. The Archonage as much as it pained the Espellias’ pride was a success. It had come at the cost of the First Family’s executive authority but economically and socially it was an unprecedented success. To think that the Mysteries were once at the forefront of magickal research and the Arts was crazy. Education of the true parameters of magick and mass awakening of Aurae’s in the newly funded academies had destroyed much of the power the old Hierarch had turned magickal secrets into commodities. He used it to lure people like the current Hierarch into his web. The realm had grown beyond the old tricks, that was a fact. So, where did Liana fit into it?

“All on your lonesome, Grand Vizier? Let me join you than. A person and their thoughts is a dangerous thing.”

Liana sighed. She was unable to escape the man in thoughts or reality.

The Hierarch was just above average in height, and so much taller than Liana. His hair was a woody brown, luscious in its volume and tied at the ends with three bands. He was, however, not wearing a gentleman’s suit but instead adorned himself in a robe of the Faith of Mystery. Liana suspected he wore comfort clothes underneath and he found Liana’s tie and tight-fitting pants to be quite amusing. In the moonlight his dark eyes reflected the glistening stars in the sky. He wore some foundation on his nose and cheeks, with an open wing design of eyeliner to add to his charm. He was worse than a preening peacock found to the commonwealth’s south, but Liana could not argue he wasn’t handsome. He stood by Liana’s side, a lit pipe in his own hand. He offered her some leaves that appeared to be made from Castoria’s Wild flower. Liana declined at first.

“Come on Grand Vizier, join us and celebrate. We received confirmation from our esteemed host,” Oris spoke of their host as if a grizzled bear would be a better drinking partner. “What’s with this gloom you shroud yourself within. You need to lighten up, just be free for a moment or two. It could be the root of your Aurae’s fickle strength, wrapping up all your emotions and actions so tightly with no time for play. You know if you came to my lab I’m sure I could purge its inhibitors; I’d give you a wider scope to work with. Imagine the power you could wield! The second Grand Vizier with the capabilities to match an Esper in combat and not solely by wit, you’d be a legend!”

Liana cocked her head at Oris. She took a moment, and yes it was a genuine offer to finally see his lab; sadly, it was not a tenable offer. She shook her head, a smile pulling at her cheeks.

The Hierarch, head of the largest faith ever known to the Commonwealth, hesitated. Liana knew that for all his pomp and preening he was what thirty-five? One of the greatest minds for magick with the Aurae and Arts to back it up from all reports. Yet he hesitates when a near magickless woman rejects him, why? Because he knows who pulls the real strings. Oris was no fool to how the puppets were moved.

Liana Isuran was not gifted in the Arts of magick, nor did she feel needed to be. She held the favour of those who did, without the ego; a much better predicament in her mind. Standing out in the cool Blossom night snubbing an Archon, a Hierarch, a Princess and her Prince, Liana sat in a dimension of her own. Her mind knew truths that many others feared holding, many outright rejecting due to their poignancy.

The world was unfair, that much was a fact. But it was only unfair in how it just did not care for people. For those so inclined to be brutally honest about the situation, if you want reality to pave a path for oneself then all that is needed is the affection and fear of others. It was what people did with this fact that spurred conquests and Empires, or the fall from grace of a monarchy. Liana to this day was in awe of how the Archonage and Citizen’s Assembly founders emerge victorious from a war they had no right to win. They had rallied the people; other states had conscripted them; the balance shifted and what was done was done.

Recently, Liana found the scales unbalanced herself and so pushed down until it fell her way. It came at a cost but that was just another addition to the burden she carried. Most people would never meet nor know who Liana Isuran was, or what she brings to this shambolic commonwealth; mayhap that will change, but if she does her job correctly it won’t. This is the mind of Liana Isuran; the woman who stood outside the Archon’s estate holding the fourth most powerful person on the continent silent without a word. There was no magick here, she held above all else the willpower. She was not a religious person, but she used to pray that was enough. Oris took a drag of his filled pipe, his shoulders loosened as he stood by her side.

“Tell me, Oris.” She accepted the leaves for her own pipe. “What brings a man of your stature, of a position once so intensive your forebear could not depart the capitol without ushering in destabilising factors, on a trip to Castoria?”

“If you must know, Liana?” She assented to her name. “Liana, I find myself caught in the throes of a disease so debilitating and pervasive that I could not stand idle in combating it.” The man took a drag from his pipe, blowing rings out into the still night air.

Liana was taken aback. A disease, one that could possibly fell a Hierarch; interesting. “What, pray tell, is the diseases symptoms? Is a trip north for a true diagnosis in order?”

“Ha! Those witch doctors and senile herbalists, no no they cannot help me.” The stars grew brighter and brighter in the sky above. They twinkled and sat above the duo, celestial observers to an unsuspecting conversation. Liana felt the Wild flower leaves start to take effect. The wind picked up a wandering tune. She felt an urge to sway, to dance, but she did not. It had been am age since she last danced.

“No, my disease is a personal affliction. The root of many a despot and cause of many a rebel. Its like a worm burrowing deep into my mind. A gluttonous creature than cannot be sated with all the intellect and ideas I confront it with. I felt helpless, my dear Liana, quite helpless in the capitol.”

“So, you hijacked the Princesses envoy?”

“Why of course!” Oris stepped up, standing hands outstretch pipe between his lips. The showman has arrived. “Think of my joy when I hear of an acquaintance going on a journey to Castoria of all places. To hear of its secrecy, the lack of rumours in the works, I could not find a better cure for my illness.”

“Boredom.”

“Yes and no. You see boredom entails no loss of anything but time. But Liana we both know the value of our time do we not.”

“I would say one of us more than the others.” Liana paused. The smoke had dulled her guard, the sly weasel.

“Ha! The truth suits you Liana. I always despised the games we play at court; frankness is an armour I wear willingly this night.”

“So you impugned on a royal envoy out of boredom, Oris?”

Oris bowed. “Why of course, the lady has struck orichalcum. I, Hierarch Oris, Arch-Inquisitor of the Mysteries, who sits on the Crown Council and knows most of all there is in this dimension, have infiltrated a royal envoy because I am bored.” He raised his head, his dark brown eyes flashing with pride. For a moment Liana could swear she saw the chromatic lightning storm from her carriage in his eyes. He was in tune with his Aurae to such a degree Liana found her doubts to be weak. The man met her eyes and held her focus.

“We are movers Liana. What we do impacts the realm. Others criticise my eagerness to travel, to escape the rudimentary systems of power at court; but that is my great asset. You yourself are here with purpose, no normal royal envoy requires the due diligence of the Grand Vizier. There are ulterior motives here. Clues and signs are falling my way so steadily I would have to be mad or self-absorbed beyond my current narcissism to ignore. Tell me Liana, why are you here?”

Without hesitation Liana released her Byzantium Aurae. A burst of deep purple shattered the dream-haze that surrounded the duo. She collected herself, rearranging her formal attire. The Hierarch met her scathing stare with a grin.

“Can’t fault a man for trying.”

“I’ve seen other men do it better.” Liana walked away; the Hierarch’s grin flipped upside down. “Sleep well Oris, this jaunt around the continent will end before you know it.” She turned, chuckling to herself.

“Then you’ll have to amuse yourself once more.”

Liana returned to the dinner. The Royal couple laughing with their hosts. It had been too long since she last heard the Princess laugh. With a deep breath the Grand Vizier returned to the table. She felt a little wiser to the Hierarch and his plans. It seemed she was not the only one searching for an apprentice on this expedition.

Willam returned to his room after dinner exhausted. It had been a great day.

Breakfast had been a nervous affair, but the Choosing was going ahead next week despite the early Blossom season. It was the start of two weeks of activities and trying to entice Castorian’s and beyond to Found an orphan. It was Willam’s second last Choosing but after this one he was uncertain if the headmistress would allow him to stay at the orphanage without becoming a Labourer. The late morning and early afternoon baking with Irene and Delilah had elevated the day. Cinnamon scrolls were one of his favourite snacks. Being able to craft Julia’s recipe, from her personal family heirloom a cookbook, filled him with pride. She even said it tasted better than what she could make! The lake picnic had been the icing on the cake. Or one could say the cinnamon on the scroll.

Wow, I really need some better similes. Perhaps during my shift tomorrow at the Librarium I can find a tome of Bardic Inspiration. The last one had some lines that had Jules chuckling for days. Too bad Evelyn complained. To be fair possums eat lemons all the time so it was an apt comparison.

The lake had been a stellar idea. But it was the Damoine-Fay creature that resided at the bottom of it that had stolen the show. To witness what Willam found out to be the Nessta itself staggered him. He, of all people, got to witness the Fay creature in all its glory where several Guild Parties had failed in their quest to find one. He needed to do more research into it, maybe the Archon would have a record of its folklore in one of their tomes. It had been a delightful day. The best part yet was he still had his best friend. He still had his confidant.

“Nope, that felt weird. I don’t understand how Evelyn calls her friends that without cringing. Confidants, yuck.” Willam laid on his back. He was in his broom closet of a room on his bed. He was lucky it was a private room, as most of the others shared dorms, but every now and again it felt too small a space. He was not claustrophobic by any means, just lonely.

His desk was cluttered with tomes and spare parchment. His winter studies compiled neatly in one corner. His own personal research was what created the mess. From diagrams of early magick circles, to catalogues of where to find different Fay entities as recorded by the Archon. It was a fantastical mess that gave people an insight into Willam’s mind and interests. Sadly, the dead cactus and torn up schedule of its feeding times were an insight into another avenue of his mind. What stood out the most was a black pamphlet that shone like a polished metal in the light.

Willam had been given it while on duty in the Librarium recalibrating the history wing of the library for his tutor - as it was horribly unorganised and Willam taught elements of the content to the younger wards in his spare time - when the courier dropped it off. It was an announcement of the newly funded Archonage Academies, brother and sister schools to the age-old institution of Espellium Academy. That Blossom Willam had once again been overlooked at the Choosing. He had locked himself away for weeks in the Librarium whenever he could, anger and loathing at the forefront of his mind. That was the first season he almost snapped at Jules. What had brought him back from his gloom was the pamphlet.

He reached from his bed and undid the pin that trapped the pamphlet on the wooden desk. The metallic sheen glistened in the lamplight of his room. Inside it held descriptions of the great five academies.

Firstly, there was the Royal Espellium Academy of the Arts. Where to graduate is to receive the title of Esper, and to form connections that linked one to the heart of the commonwealth. It was based on the outskirts of the capitol Archaehil, the city of Mystique. Willam dreamed of going there, not even as a possibly Esper but just to study from its own Librarium. The academy possessed the largest cache of knowledge on the continent in The Great Cathedral; where it was rumoured the first Hierarch had perished leaving only a singular tome and a story as his legacy.

The second page of the pamphlet was a forest green, contrasting the front page’s black. It spoke of the Federal Healers Academy. It was based in the northern jungle state of Asclepia the home of modern medicine. Of the five academies Willam doubted his abilities to enter this one the most. While he read and reread and learnt the healer’s almanac off by heart his disposition to ruin something was much greater than his ability to healer things. He tried to stop himself staring at his cactus as he thought so to himself. It was a shame because Asclepia sent academy students in their penultimate year to the southern bogs of Castoria. There was the home of many of the herbal fields and crop growing projects. Supposedly, after four years in the jungle the bogs were like a retreat for both the student and professor’s mental wellbeing.

The third page was a navy blue, with four different crests situated across the page for the different institutions it offered education from. It was propaganda for the Royal Wardens Academy. Of the five this one was Willam’s least favourite. To become a Warden was to sign away your life to another, to ward them with both and soul until then end. While one could join the infantry, or navy, or even the newly constructed Auric Fleet built from new wave technology into sky-ships, none of it appealed to Willam. He felt guilty swatting flies at the best of times, favouring a spider web in his open window during summer as at least then nature took the decision out of his hands. To be a Warden would be an eventful existence but no, he would pass at the chance if offered.

The fourth page was a sunset orange, it had been printed on with water colour evoking images of last night at the lake. The Guild’s Institute. The Guilds incorporated many different industries and were interconnected with the Ministries of the Commonwealth. However, this was home to adventurers, to explorers, the titled and the damned. The Guild’s Institute offered education and resources to anyone that could contribute to its Halls and sought to expand humanities grasp and appreciation for the realm. Willam had fantasied about joining, and perhaps one day he still would. To be a sanctioned adventurer, delving into ancient ruins in search of artifacts even the Faith of Mystery did not know existed. Or, maybe he would learn the ways of hospitality and the entrepreneur receiving funds to grow his own project for the betterment of himself and the realm. It was a pipe dream.

The finally page was a stark white, stained now from a spilt cup of tea. Willam never thought much of this academy, it just seemed too vague for him to grasp. It was for-

“WILLAM!!” HELP!” The door o his room rattled from someone knocking.

Willam bolted from his bed. Hair falling over his face, he rushed to the door. Upon opening it he found Lain. His hand was raised in a fist ready to knock again if Willam hadn’t opened the door. His eyes were wide, hopping from foot to foot ready to run. Willam scanned the hall and saw no one else. Lain tugged on his night shirt trying to drag him out of his room. “Come on, we need to hurry!”

Willam held up a hand. Quickly he slipped on his boots, and grabbed his emergency rucksack from the corner of his room.

“What’s happening?” He followed Lain at a rapid pace.

“Just come on, its injured!” Lain turned left down the corridor, leading Willam out of the building. He should have worn his winter pyjamas it was cold outside.

“Who’s injured?” Willam tried to look ahead but there wasn’t much moonlight to go off.

“In that grove over there.” Lain pointed to the edge of the forest. Melia was waving her hand in the dark, holding the other to her lips signally for silence.

What have I gotten myself into?