“Very well. Come find me at the Oracle of Aeternitas at the striking of dusk.”
Thus spoke Professor Aionia.
Elwin fidgeted throughout the rest of the day, his stomach anxious with the thought of meeting someone of such high status and power alone. It was one thing to sit in a Professor’s class, and to listen and partake in exercises as instructed, but he shared that attention with friends, now he had them no more...
He would have to swallow his fear. He reminisced to his time back at The Marlin, surfacing like a dream from ages ago, when he met Professor Aionia for the first time. He knew of her as Dr. Hana Reiss then, and he remained calm and composed taking the orders, making light conversation, remembering that she was the first person outside of his family to acknowledge his father’s contributions.
Perhaps that’s the reason why he chose to ask Professor Aionia; she, unlike almost everyone else in the outside world, appeared to have a heart that could be open to the circumstances of his plight. Perhaps Professor Irina could understand him too, but her instruction would be limited to the Art of Air. If his reading of Professor Aionia was correct, she would be the most inclined to understand him and also possess the knowledge to teach him all of the basic forms across the four Arts; forms that felt profoundly alien to him, but which everyone else performed as naturally as they breathed. Without mastering those forms, he could not even begin to imagine how he could reforge, let alone grasp, the Epitomic Forms that his father had tasked to him.
But why did Professor Aionia tell of her name as Dr. ‘Hana Reiss’? Why did she have to use a pseudonym back then? People used pseudonyms to protect themselves, but what was she to be afraid of?
He had no way of knowing answers to these questions alone, and it was about time he fulfilled his curiosity.
With that, he dressed in his uniform as smartly as he could, and climbed the forested steps to the hill north of campus, beyond even the Tree of Naran and Naru.
* * *
Professor Aionia sat in the center at the Oracle of Aeternitas, waiting quietly for Elwin amidst a grove of maples. All around her the trees were reddening their leaves in the autumn sun, playing a symphony of rustles; as beautiful as they were, it was gray to Elwin’s vision, their songs falling upon deaf ears.
A tuft of cream-orange hair peeked beyond the steps at last, and strode to the Professor’s way. The apprehension in his gait belied the confident expression with which Elwin approached his Tanaar.
“It is good to see you here at last. Come, Elwin. Take a seat.”
“Yes, Professor.”
Elwin gathered the back of his robe and took a seat as politely as he could on a stone bench.
Professor Aionia spoke.
“You have confided in me that you wish to become better at the Mahamastra.”
“Yes, Professor.”
“Do you wish to master them all?”
“Truly,” Elwin replied, his voice coming out hoarse and quieter than his ego had desired.
“Is mastering the Arts the only reason that drove you here?”
“I – I wish that –” Elwin stammered, not knowing exactly how to reveal his troubles. He did not wish to say what happened between him and Katherine, Isaac, and Mirai, nor did he want to admit that he seemed to have a poor aptitude with virtually all the Arts compared to his friends.
Professor Aionia read the trouble on his face, and rested her hand on his shoulder.
She spoke.
“Be not afraid, Elwin. You have no need to reveal what you do not want. But I need to understand why you wish to master the Mahamastra. Your answer can help me guide you on the right path.”
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Elwin breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He should be honest in his motivation. Why should he be afraid? Professor Aionia was his Tanaar. She would understand.
“I’m... I am –” said Elwin, gathering his words, “...I don’t think I’m blessed in the Arts like my friends. Like everyone at Aeternitas.”
Despite the fact that it pained him to admit it, he marshalled his heart, and explained further.
“I’ve been falling behind what is expected of me as an Arten of Aeternitas. I can’t perform the Dance of the Sparks, the Melody of the Grains, nor can I perform the Rhythm of the Dewdrops to satisfaction, even though water is supposed to be my Maht. I’ve tried to improve, but... I’m very lost. And –”
Elwin saw Professor Aionia’s hand, which was bandaged anew but whose wraps still remained. He glanced down onto his shoes in shame.
“I would be very grateful to learn the foundations of the Mahamastra properly, so that I can become better at them. I will give my heart and soul to the task and all that is asked of me.” Elwin clenched his fist, and in an utmost attempt to demonstrate it, mustered a salute to prove his determination, awkward on his frame.
A brisk evening breeze brushed over them both. The boughs of the maple trees swayed about for a moment as if to reflect the brewing thoughts of the Tanaar and Arten, and settled to rest. It was time for Professor Aionia to give her verdict.
“It takes great courage to admit your limitations, and more so to seek help. You must have had a difficult time coming here, and daring greater still to come to me.”
Professor Aionia looked Elwin in the eye.
“Very well. I shall teach you the foundations of the Mahamastra – all four of them.”
Elwin’s face brightened in an instant into a relieved smile.
But Professor Aionia put up her hand.
“But before I teach you in earnest, there is something you must promise to me.”
“A promise?”
“Yes. It is that you shall not use the Mahamastra – the Four Arts – I teach you for ignoble reasons, or use them to exact hate upon anyone.”
“Ignoble reasons?”
“Yes. Reasons borne of pride, greed, or want of vengeance, to name a few.”
Elwin could not fathom why such a condition was being laid upon him. Surely Professor Aionia did not believe that he would exploit his improvements in the Arts to give Lucian a lesson in a bloodied nose? Elwin was ready to scoff at such an assessment of himself. He was pursuing this power so that he could be the champion of the tournament, to prove himself once and for all – so everyone could see that Elwin had won through just and honest practice without the help of his friends, since he’d lost them.
But Professor Aionia’s eyes were as deep and incisive as ever, and it appeared to Elwin that her gaze was fathoming something in his soul which Elwin himself could not see.
“Promise that even if you come to possess greater power, you shall use it to protect those around you, and not bring harm to them. Do you vow to uphold this promise, in the witness of DEIA AETERNITAS who stands in this Oracle?”
Elwin gave his promise without hesitation. There was no way he was going to use the Arts to hurt others, anyway.
“Yes, Professor. I give my promise.”
“Then so it is. Find me in this very place tomorrow, at the crack of dawn.”
Elwin’s secret training was about to commence!
* * *
The forested grove was glistening with dewdrops. Elwin sat wide awake, having had breakfast earlier than anyone else, craning his ears for Professor Aionia’s words.
“I will teach you the foundations of the Mahamastra and their forms step-by-step, and reveal to you their secrets, as I have come to know.”
“Yes, Professor.”
“Now then, let us begin the first lesson with a question.”
Elwin leaned in.
“Which illusion in this world do you believe is the greatest of all?” queried Professor Aionia, her expression clement, words placed with the incisiveness of a falcon.
“The greatest illusion?” Elwin repeated. What could he say? An illusion was when something was so obviously apparent, but deeper down, it was not at all like how most people saw it. The greatest illusion... the greatest illusion...
Elwin ruminated the question in his mind. He looked up; Professor Aionia’s eyes were still on him, waiting for a response. Why was the question posed? Here and now? Perhaps it had to do with the Four Elements... wait, it very well could! Elwin braved his response.
“The Four Elements?”
Professor Aionia cocked her head slightly. “How so?”
Uh-oh. A follow up question. But this was only the start – he could not afford to fail at the very first test of his resolve.
“Well – it is –” Then the thought struck his mind like a bell. Back then, at Professor Aionia’s first lecture, she had said that regardless of the Element of choice or how it appeared in reality, every move, every feat required energy from somewhere. Without energy, people couldn’t bring the Arts to life at all. Katherine unknowingly froze the bowl of water when she took the energy from it to make her fireball. So then, the answer must be...
Elwin gave his answer. “People think the Elemental Arts are so different, while in reality, they all depend upon the same thing.”
“And that is?” she asked.
“Energy,” Elwin replied.
Professor Aionia’s expression broke into a smile.
“Correct.”
Elwin felt proud at answering the riddle.
Professor Aionia continued.
“The greatest illusion in the world indeed is the illusion that each of the Four Elements are detached and disconnected from one another – the illusion of Distinction.”
“If you remove all the frivolities, all the techniques, the styles, and the forms which encapsulate them, if you remove all the drapes that cover the mind, performing each Art is about knowing how to control energy as a matter of essence. Do you know how to swim, Elwin?”
“Swim, Professor?”