“Gather round, gentlefolks!”
Professor William’s class was hosted on the first level of the ziggurat – on one of the sides that rested flat until it ascended again to the second storey in a slope. There was sufficient space to allow for a great rectangular arena flanked by many columns, whose pristine sand threw an intense glare in the sun. There was plenty of earth and sand for the Master of Earth to build anything he wished. The Fradihta, who just had their luncheon, was somewhat drowsy in the warmth of the afternoon sun.
“Now, tell me what you’d like to see me build.”
Various hands rose in the air.
“A house!”
“A little dull.”
“A train!”
“Getting hotter.”
“A skycraft!”
“Skycraft? Why, now we’re talking! A skycraft will be hard to model with earth, and for precisely that reason, I shall build it!” He motioned the Artens to stay clear of the ground beneath his feet.
“Now then, step back about 30 feet – a little farther – perfect. Watch closely.”
He clasped his hands together in a wavelike motion, and with great force impounded it downwards, his eyes closed. The entire arena shook beneath the feet of the Artens in a resonant melody, and it continued to rumble as Professor William moved his fingers this way and that as if pulling strings of matter itself, his Quan tremoring with his motions, beads of sweat condensing upon his forehead.
“Witness the power of Gurun!” Like a hero yearning for the sky he roared, and some titanic mass of earth beneath him began to rise from the surface, loose sand and gravel filling the spaces it abandoned below.
And it was not just any mass of rock nor earth that rose – it was the splitting image of the skycraft that took Elwin and the others to Aeternitas the day before: full of intricate detail, the engines, the rudders, its little fin-like wings, and down to the very minutiae of its emblazoned sigil, even the tiny figurines of molded sand carrying yet tinier suitcases and bags in their arms, each with their own facial expressions. Professor Thales’s miniature models, which were functional at best, were eclipsed by the craftsmanship of the Master of the Earth. It took a full minute for the 30-feet model of the skycraft to conclude its ascension; Professor William, the triumphant terratect, reposed casually from it, before hoisting himself down with earthen steps he made with a flick of his fingers.
“That, Artens, is the power of earth. If fire elevated us from nature, and water gave us civilization, then earth gave us the power to build anything in our imagination. It also,” Professor William impressed upon a wet clay tablet the entire summary of his speech, “gave us that called ‘writing.’”
He shot a charismatic wink to the audience.
“The Art of Earth – Gurunmastra – embodies the ideal that nothing is impossible. If we can envision it, we can build it. If you choose me as your Tanaar, you will learn to revere creativity and exalt persistence that embody this ideal. You will also learn about the terratects that envisioned the plans of our cities across the Republics, and how the conveniences you take for granted are fulfilled by their contributions.”
“If you so wish, I will also instruct you in how to build up your muscles like mine,” he whispered, flexing his biceps. “Now then, shall each of us have a hand at making something?”
* * *
“Woo...” sighed Elwin, his head swimming with effort. “I can’t believe Professor William really made each of us make a statue of ourselves...”
“It wasn’t that bad, wasn’t it?”
“‘Wasn’t bad’? That lasted two-and-a-half hours! Professor Thales’s class lasted only one!”
Isaac broke into laughter.
“I couldn’t bring a single grain of earth together. I had to use water to put them together into some sort of shape that looked like me, when Professor William wasn’t looking...” said Elwin, rubbing his eye.
“Hahaha! That’s why your statue looked so pudgy!” giggled Isaac.
“Don’t remind me,” groaned Elwin, glancing at Mirai who did not once break a sweat.
“I wasn’t much better off. I had to start off with a block that Mirai raised for me, then shave it away with breezes,” consoled Isaac. He glanced at Katherine, who asked for no help despite her Maht being Fire.
She stretched and massaged her arms.
“If that was just Professor William’s first class, what do you think his morning exercises are going to be?” she quizzed.
“Running with marble pillars on our heads, from the looks of it,” replied Isaac. “I don’t think I can keep up with him, if he’s my Tanaar. Let’s see what comes next.”
They all chuckled on their way up the wide spiral staircases of House ARTAIA.
“Settle in, settle in, young mahn and frhi!” announced Professor Irina, her voice harmonious with the rustle of the leaves. All one-hundred-and-sixty of them were on one of the colossal oval stages situated off the central trunk, giving them a good view of the campus to the south and west, approaching its horizon the Sun which had begun to wane. They would have marveled at the vista had it not been for something monstrous that caught their eye.
Ahead of the Fradihta lay the largest and most intimidating knot of string they’d ever seen – the size of a giant melon. It was tangled with such astounding complexity that it seemed to writhe and move like a snake as if spirited.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“For our first lesson, I offer you the following challenge: undo the knot by any means possible, short of burning or slicing it up. If you can’t, then you don’t get to leave,” winked Professor Irina.
Their jaws fell to the floor, including Lucian’s.
“I jest, since you have to attend Professor Helen’s class, after all. But if you do not wish to be late, then you should try your best. Professor Helen is not known for her leniency towards excuses.”
Each of the Fradihta took turns to attempt the knot. Then they gathered in groups. Then they put all of their heads together. With the utmost effort, they managed to undo the first pass of the knot, but alas, the string seemed to disappear into the interior, which was impossible to track.
An hour passed by with no tangible result, the Sun now orange upon the horizon.
At last, Professor Irina spoke.
“Shall I?” she announced to the class.
“Please! We would like to see you do it!”
Professor Irina stepped up to the center of that oval amphitheatron, overlooking the rest of campus and the great lake under the auspices of evening.
She faced the knot and outstretched her hands as if to embrace it; and little by little, the winds around them picked up speed, and rocked the strings in its careful breeze. Professor Irina’s fading hair of cerulean, which must have looked beautiful once, rose from her back and shoulders and began to dance along with the chants of air; she closed her eyes as she sung them, and commanded to her ten thousand sinews of air, each moving and playing as a symphony.
To the Artens’ utmost amazement the tightly wound strings of the knot began to loosen; the stubborn friction that entwined each devilish passage pacified with her words. Each strand untwined one by one, back through the loops, back through the turns, out and out and out, until finally, the single piece of string that completed the gnarl came undone, and what was once a most menacing ball of knots fell to the smoothed stone, its thread hundreds of feet in length.
The Fradihta didn’t speak; they couldn’t speak, not with the feat they’d just witnessed. Very few who stood there even knew such a deed could be possible.
“Yet here I stand, having done so. This is the Art of Air – Ayumastra – in its finest form,” explained Professor Irina.
“It is all too common for people to conjure the image of hurricanes and of flight when Air is mentioned in layspeech. Those feats of power certainly can be accomplished, indeed, as you have seen last evening from Professor Aionia,” she continued, “but the essence of what I teach, of what the FOUNDER ARTAIA taught millenniums ago, is how to use methods other than power to overcome the trials of the world.”
“When you face a problem, is your instinct to burn it all and extinguish it from our realm in hopes you won’t have to confront it ever again? Or will you choose the more difficult path of diplomacy and understanding, of empathy and tenderness, to unravel hatreds and bring together the peoples of the world?”
She enunciated every word with lyrical beauty.
“That is a path I leave to you. Should you wish to learn those ways of peace – and also of medicine and song – you can confide in me as your Tanaar.”
The kismets descended the Tree, introduced at last to the principles of Ayu.
Elwin and Isaac were in deep contemplation of what they’d heard.
* * *
Professor Helen’s class, the introduction to fire, was held deep in the evening. Elwin thought it strange that it was held when the greatest proof of its presence – the Sun – had gone to slumber.
They were once again at the House of SUNNA to the east; a river of molten salt ran under their feet as they stepped into the bounds, and made way through the steps to the summit of the House, where they were instructed to go. All around them, upperclassmen dressed in shades of reds were jogging busily about, some waving, some not taking notice in their errands; the lights grew steadily dim on the path up that tiered mini-city, shadows of the night dancing upon the kismets and the rest of the Fradihta. In the approaching autumn chill, they were getting cold.
Elwin and his friends arrived at last to a spacious amphitheater bounded by numerous columns, whose rock had been hewn from the sacred mountain itself. In the depression at the center roared a mighty fire, tendrils of flame sparking and licking like a living creature beyond its brazier of bronze. Afront of the flame stood Professor Helen, as consular as she was intimidating. The four kismets took their seats along with the rest of their Franen peers, shadows cast from their bodies dancing between the columns like spirits.
“There shall be no brazen tomfoolery with fire under my eyes,” Professor Helen declared.
“Fire is the holiest Element out of all, and its Art – Tahamastra – the noblest, for it is the first out of all to have been discovered by humanity. I thus demand from you to give it the proper respect it deserves, at all times.”
“Fire is also life. That which gave us warmth in the Ages of Ice, prepared our food, nourished our crops and drove the spirits from our realm was fire and the Sun. When I mean power, I mean not only its power to vanquish our enemies, but also the power to nurture life.”
She looked to the Fradihta, shivering in their chill.
At once, she waved her Quan with a single motion of her arm, and the flame behind her blazed and engulfed in its vermillion wings the theatron and its Artens. It danced about in numerous hues of orange, red, yellow, green, blue, and even violet; and in that instant all cold and chill left Elwin, kindling a fire in his soul that dispelled the melancholy of the night. And despite how close the flames got to his face, it never once burned him or made him uncomfortable. Elwin understood why Professor Helen’s first lesson was held at night – for it was in the absence of the warmth of the Sun could they truly appreciate the magnitude of its existence.
The Artens, shaken and fully awake now, watched the firelight dissipate and shrink back to its original form behind Professor Helen.
“You have witnessed the Flame Eternal,” she said, crossing her arms, “that has graced this land for one thousand, eight hundred and eighty-three years. Never once in the history of all our republics had this flame been extinguished – neither through rain nor snow, nor war or tragedy.”
“For those who look for me to be your Tanaar, know this: I shall not be easy on you. I will push you to your utmost best. I am hard but I am fair – though you may not like me, your control over your Maht and the Arts shall improve day by day, and your principles strengthen like steel as fire tests metal. I do not lie, nor do I mince words to falsify the truth. I shall praise and punish as I see fit, and that is what you shall receive.”
“If it is power that you seek, look no further than where you stand. I stand before you as the disciple of SUNNA – and I shall teach you all its aspects, to unleash the totality of its potential. The principles of Tahamastra shall enrich every aspect of your life, even if your Maht is not Taha itself. You will learn to embody its ideals of justice and passion, and mature into a warrior, a proper Arten; nothing life throws may defeat you, and you will have the blessing of light to banish the dark dawn yonder. HOWEVER–!” she roared, startling everyone.
“In your search for power, remember this: every candle casts a shadow – in every bright place a dark of the deepest dark. For every powerful conqueror, there exists a grieving mother. Will you serve to keep this divide, or make the two equal?” questioned Professor Helen.
“Can there be fire without a shadow?”
“Can you become fire without casting a shadow unto others?”
“That is a question I leave to you – pray be in your glory, do not forget your duty to humankind. Lift us from the dark; not plunge it entire.”
* * *
“...So, what’d you think, Katherine?”
“I loved it. Although, I was surprised at how demanding she was.”
She dusted off her shoulders and face, which came laden with soot during class. Katherine’s Maht was Fire, so she had no trouble making one while Elwin and Isaac could only muster the tiniest of sparks; but it was an entirely different challenge to control it precisely, or to scale it in size, which was a prerequisite in demanding careers. From Katherine’s admirable performance, however, dueling with it seemed entirely within reach even now.
And thus were the ways of the Four Masters at Aeternitas.
Though, there was one person who’d yet to add to the choir;
It was Professor Aionia, the Master of Light.