CHAPTER ONE - RITUAL OF AWAKENING
All she could see was an overwhelming variety of colours, the strands of which twined and looped together in a way that made it impossible to find where it all began and ended because of the tight knots. It surrounded her completely, yet it was not as corporeal as a liquid, it was more like... energy? Yes, that was more appropriate, it appeared she was floating within a condensed form of energy.
In fact, besides a resounding vibration that was similar to standing out in an electrical storm where lightning struck the ground immensely close and a strange charge would have caused hair to stand on end, there were no other sensation like temperature or pressure. There was not even a sense of smell nor sound other than from her inner thought processes.
This sensation had to be the energy that she floated within, each vibration like a shock to the mind and soul, electrifying and stimulating them to greater heights of awareness. The potency was nothing like she had ever felt before, even more intense than the power of a Spiritgrandmaster. It thrilled her to be envelope in such a powerful and dangerous source of energy.
All this was quite intriguing for a time, however it couldn’t dampen her innate curiosity and a drive to explore, thus with reluctance she pulled her mind away from savouring the energy and focused on the rest of the strange dreamscape. I want to see more. As soon as the thought crossed her mind the scene seamlessly shifted to the left. Immediately she felt that something about the movement was fundamentally wrong. It was too easy, too sudden to logically make sense, but thinking about it she only now became acutely aware of the lack of resistance which should have come from her muscles and bones. The absence of that feeling helped to explain some of the phenomenon but it wasn't until she glanced down that it all made perfect sense. There was nothing but the strands of energy where a body should have been and with no limbs or body to speak of, she wondered how on earth she would be able to traverse this strange dream she had found herself in.
It seemed logical enough to assume that it would be as easy as simply wanting to move, but that proved unfounded, for no amount of picturing herself moving seemed to give her any mobility. Frustration soon formed, growing into a mild anxiety and annoyance with the situation. The little she had picked up from books and others who had claimed to have undergone Lucid Dreaming, spoke of the ability to control aspects of the dream with relative ease. Was this a nightmare? It felt like a long time had passed since she became aware of her surroundings and the trick of pinching one’s self to wake up was not applicable here, nor apparently trying to convince herself that she was dreaming.
The anxiety increased three-fold when she thought of the importance of today, what it meant to participate in the Ritual of Awakening that she had worked hard all year to be allowed to undergo. What would happen if she couldn't wake up and somehow missed the entire ceremony? Would she be able to reschedule? Zenith certainly hoped so.
It was a once in a lifetime experience that would set her up for the rest of her life. To be a Novice Spiritcaster meant instant prestige, purpose and wealth that would only grow as she climbed the ranks. More importantly it meant exploring a side of the world that eighty percent of Lisonar’s inhabitants never would, either because they did not have the potential, or they did not pass their exams in the first year.
The first year had been like previous years within an average college but instead of learning about mathematics, language and social-economics, students learned about things like the theory of magic and the soul, the disciplines and affinities of soulcraft and ‘mana’. This year had been an information dump to prepare them all for when they would manifest their power into reality.
As she fretted on this, the colours began leach away from the strands of energy, until within moments it was like she was floating within a grayscale painting of squiggly lines. “... Zeeennniiitthh.” The return of her hearing was more than a little startling, even if the voice that spoke as if underwater, was familiar and thus a relief after being an immovable force for however long it was that she was in the dreamspace. “Oi, Zenith!” The gray rapidly darkened to an all consuming black, and then the light from what she could only guess was her window above her bed, tinged the black with red light onto the backs of her eyelids.
“The eighth bell has already rung. Gosh, why are you so hard to wake today? This is unlike you!” The voice crystal clear, originated from directly above and cracking her eyelids open revealed the exasperated face of Rowan. The short human’s vivid hazel eyes glared directly into Zenith’s and then widen. “Unbeliev- Oh finally, the princess awakens. Hurry up or I am leaving without you.” The bed jostles when her roommate hops down, leaving the elfess to get her bearings.
“I apologize, I must been extra tired for some reason.” Zenith sat up, ruffling the thick strands of her ember tresses as she tried to console Rowan. Her eyes followed the ginger haired human, who lifted a hand and waved over her shoulder as she made toward the shared bathroom.
She scanned the small dorm room that barely fit two single-beds, a couple wooden desks and a shared walk in wardrobe. It was serviceable enough for a mere student. “I wonder what our summons will be…” Rowan chimed excitedly from the bathroom. It drew a smile onto Zenith’s face at how quickly her friend had changed from intimidating firebrand, to giddy school girl within a span of a minute. The human truly imbodied the element fire that she was found to have the affinity for.
“I would not be surprised if you get an offense summon, maybe a weapon if you are lucky. Everyone knows how much you like to fight and you are really good at it..” The first year wasn’t all about academics and knowledge, it also involved physical training for those who showed that kind of inclination on their preliminary examination before they were accepted as first years. Zenith hadn’t, it was in fact one of the few affinities that she apparently lacked, that and body transmutation and transmorphing. So no enhanced strength or transformation into a dragons for this Novice.
The bare soles of her feet were chilled against the stone beneath when she hopped down from the bed and padded to the wardrobe to dress quickly in the white initiation robe. The collar of the robe was high, made of leather and did not flare. Zenith pulled the short silk lace connecting both sides of the collar taunt and tied it together so that the fabric hugged the entirety of her slender neck. Turning, her diamond shaped face blanched, eyeing the back of the robe which was inked with silver and gold symbols. She knew they represented the affinities each of the students had but hers had nearly every inch covered in the symbols. It must have vexxed the inscriber who was tasked with her particular one for it was abnormal for a student to possess so many affinities.
Zenith didn't really understand why she had so many when generally students had at most, two or three disciplines and a single element as their affinities and this made it easier to allocate appropriate classes to each student without overburdening them. This approach had been quite successful apparently, as it did away with irrelevant teachings and increased retainment of information that mattered to the students. However that didn’t apply to her, not when she could in theory, summon from a dozen different disciplines and would need to know how to handle which ever one would manifest at the Ritual and onwards.
Zenith hurried to gather her things and catch up with Rowan who was fidgeting by the door waiting. “Finally.” The ginger exclaimed, peeling away from the entrance and taking the lead down the relatively empty hallway. The architecture of the castle whose spires reached for the sky and with many stories above and underground, was grandiose, with most of the decor showcasing the talent in the academy, and no surprise considering Soul Academy was the largest, most prestigious school for Spiritcasters in Lisonar and thus only those with exceptional potential shown on their preliminary examination were extended invitations.
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They passed rooms, stairways and intersections before finally coming to a special stairwell, each step carved with a different symbol like on their robes. They were the steps of Novice Initiation and on the walls hung paintings of past students and lecturers proudly showing off their summons.
Once Zenith reached the top she paused to catch her breath after the arduous climb, while Rowan who was as fresh as a daisy bounded in the room and loudly announced her present. She was promptly shushed by Professor Elisera who had nurmerous times been made to reign Rowan's exuberant nature in. The Hubeast lifted a furry, brindle coloured hand and pointed at the back of the room, pointy, canine snout wrinkling.
Zenith chuckled when Rowan scowled for half a second before abruptly grinning again like a shark that had spotted its next victim. Poor Aethon. The male avarian wore a sullen expression as he turned over a thick grimoire. “... A book, really?” He complained, “Hey!” The sullen expression turned to alarm as he snatched back the book and protectively hugged it to his chest when Rowan made to lung for it.
“How uninspiring, what about bookworm for your next pet name, aye? Hah, just wait until I get mine, it will be epic.” Rowan gloated, glancing over her shoulder to flash her roommate a superior grin as she approached them.
“Shh, it only means Aethon will have more control over what he can cast. He is magician type and that is not something to look down on.” Zenith smiled, eyes sliding from Aethon's grateful expression, to the grimoire. It was a book that lacked a title, like one would find in the darkest corner of a grand library. "Have you had a look already?"
Aethon shook his head, "It won't let me, see?" His fingers pulled at leather binding but the latch seemed stuck fast and wouldn't budge.
"I am sure it will open for you when the time is right." Zenith said reassuringly. It wasn't uncommon for them to withhold or straight out disobey their summoner at first, they did hold their own form of sentience. Over time she was sure that Aethon would form a strong bond with the grimoire that would help with the problem of controlling it.
A voice behind them called out. “Zenith, you are next, be prepared.” Glancing over to where a large group of students and lecturers were standing in a circle, Zenith spotted a lanky, bronze skinned elf ushering her over with his hands. The pyromancer had his salamander curled around one of his feet. The summoned creature was as big as a medium dog and mewled softly when Zenith approached. Beside him a short, broad shouldered adolescent gnome brushed her black hair behind a pointed ear and scowled at Zenith from her demure vantage point near Draiden’s knee.
“Morning Leaha, Draiden.” Zenith’s greeted warmly despite the cold reception Leaha had given. The woman clearly still saw her as a threat to her popularity with the other students and a certain crush of hers. She wished that the woman would summon up enough courage to pursue what she wanted rather than passive aggressively pine for him. Such approach simply wouldn't work on someone as thick as Aethon.
Buzzing at her ear caught her attention and glancing down at her shoulder, spots Edian, his transparent, dragonfly wings flattening behind his back as he settled comfortably. “Edian. How are you?” She was genuinely pleased to see the pixie so excited and weilding a tiny, moss green rod. At its tips budding branches protruded as if it were still alive.
“I don’t know what it does yet but ain’t it neat?” His voice was its usual bell tenor, clearly heard over the chattering horde of students around them.
She was about to reply in kind when her name was called. “Zenith Lithdiir?” She heard a buzz as Edian’s wings flap as he flew up into the air above the crowd.
“Good luck!” She heard the pixie chirp as she snaked through the path created for her by the parting crowd.
Yerisa’s violet gaze bore into Zenith’s when she lifted her gaze to the principal. It was a hard, expectant stare, one that was mirrored in quite a few others. They all must be very curious as to the results of the Ritual of Awakening, something she could relate to. “Here.” She uttered, eyes drawing to where a slab of stone sat on the ground in the middle of the room. It had been carved into a horizontal hemisphere with an area on top that was hollowed out like a bowl.
“Just lay down and try to relax.” Malius murmured and extend a wrinkled, calloused hand that Zenith took gently in her own as she laid down in the hollow of the altar, body cushioned by silk linen and pillows.
She had a lot of respect for the elderly Spirit Grandmaster, who had been kind and patient with all the students that she had seen or heard him interact with. His title also had great sway within the Spiritcaster society, only being four ranks below the highest, Ascendant. “Listen carefully Zenith, I am going to guide you through the ceremony.” His voice was soothing and hypnotic, so effective was it at calming her nerves that she assumed that Malius was calling upon Empathy. It was an discipline she also could not apparently learn, although a shallow read of a textbook allowed her to learn that it was a branch from Divination, which she did have some affinity for. Divination covered subjects such as, Aura Reading, Mana Sense, Telepathy, Prophecy and Scrying, but it would be unlikely that Zenith would have skill in all of them.
“Close your eyes and imagine falling into yourself, imagine as you do that there is a compartment inside that houses your soul. Use any means to find it. It could be a room in a building, a box, an open plain, anything.”
Looking at the back of her eyelids Zenith felt the tension melting away, replaced instead by a weightless sensation. She floated, marvelling at the fuzzy warmth until Malius voice echoed, seeming to come from all around her. “Fall into it, find your soul.” It was surprisingly easy to comply, and it felt more like seeping into the ground and letting it swallow her whole. Except as this happened it would accelerate and turn into free falling. “Oh...:” Zenith opened her eyes and found herself in a spacious tunnel of deepest black.
From the darkness a single strand of light and azure reached deep within the tunnel to the point where she couldn’t see the end of it. Now it made sense, this was a soul thread, the same she had seen in the dream earlier this morning. Zenith reached for it, but not with her fingers because she no longer had a body anymore. She willed herself to follow the thread instead, marvelling as it melded to different colours along the way, more soul threads appearing to criss cross and knot with it. After what seemed an age she found herself surrounded once more in a vortex of colours and wondered doubtful whether she had dreamed of it at all. It now seemed more like she had travelled somehow in her sleep.
“Now that you have seen it, keep the image in mind and will the energy to your hands. Free it Zenith.” She felt a warm squeeze and realized that she could still feel her body in an detached, faraway sort of sense.
Zenith focused intensely and gradually the electrifying sensation she had felt when she was asleep, returned and became stronger. It started in the middle of her torso and traveled up to her shoulder and down to her fingertips, the sensation intensifying until it became a vibration that rattled through her body. The thrill of power rushing through her body was intoxicating in a almost sensual way, but far more intense then anything she had experience physically. It was like her soul was singing for release and she was gripped by a deep, all consuming desire to let it all out. “Let it go.” Malius commanded gently, unravelling what little was left of her control on the power inside of her.
Her body convulsed, searing pain radiating through her as the power rushed like a dam breaking, through her system and burst out from the palms of her hands. Zenith tried to open her eyes to see, but was blinded by the soul threads that surrounded her like an after image. It felt like her body was on fire and the fire was incinerating all her energy. Panicked, she tried to move her body when she felt herself rapidly weakening, but could not even flex a finger in the end. “What is happening, make it stop!” Zenith cried out and heard someone curse nearby.
She was losing the fight against the darkness, and felt that her struggling only delayed the inevitable for a short while longer. Then Zenith began to feel a radiating heat against her front that reminded her of summer days with the sun glaring down on her. It was an uncomfortable heat, too close and hot that she would have writhed, if it were not for the heaviness of her body right now. It sucked away the rest of her strength and as the darkness fully enveloped her, she heard a collective gasp from the students and professors in the altar room.