-Man Named Sapphire-
Callan waited until Deporta was fast asleep before taking to the streets, his emerald Orenda flaring at his fingertips. Sur hadn’t given him any additional hints, and maybe the baker hadn’t known anything else about finding the secret Forlorn archives, so Callan stalked through the streets, looking for any indication he was getting closer to the knowledge he was hungry to find.
He had only the moon’s sliver to accompany him. The great silver orb was growing again, and the glowing slice in the blackness above reminded him of the prophecy and Jordan.
She’d eagerly asked him for help interpreting the prophecy and he’d feigned ignorance. And it wasn’t the first time. But he’d taken her to Flage, taken her away from the island and into the raging, unpredictable seas of the prophecy. Was she already with the Forgotten Trio? Had she already heard the prophecy, felt the weight settle onto her shoulders?
He was so deep in thought he missed the strange pull at his fingertips at first. But then the pull came again, more insistent, and Callan looked up, and stared. He’d walked the streets of Deporta countless times since becoming lineal, before he left in search of Jordan, but he had never seen the ancient cathedral-like building towering over him. It looked like his Orenda was being siphoned by an invisible source, the light breaking away from his hands and drifting toward the cathedral like a flame’s sparks following the pull of the wind.
The door was closed and seemed locked, but his Orenda slipped through the key hole and the heavy door slowly swung open, revealing a dark, cavernous room. A shaft of moonlight came through a hole in the roof, bathing the scene in silver tones.
He didn’t have time to examine the space. His Orenda was already pulling him toward a crumbling bookshelf on one of the far walls. When he drew near the emerald light passed through an old book, its spine cracking. Callan reached out and touched the book, intrigued. As though in response to his touch, the bookshelf began to swivel, revealing a passageway leading down with glass orbs fixed to the wall, lit with emerald light that looked identical to his own.
Strange…
Maybe it was part of his Orenda guiding him to this secret Forlorn archive. He would have never gotten this far without the bright green light guiding him, that was apparent.
He went down the stairs, ducking slightly through an open doorway and hesitating. Callan was in front of row after row of archaic books and scrolls. Strangely, though, the various texts weren’t dusty. He was about to wander down the first row when a voice asked, “Can I help you find something?”
Callan jumped back, Orenda light hot on his fingertips, searching for the voice.
“No need for that, Son. I’m just the archon.” A tall figure appeared from behind one of the tall shelves. He wore a pristine white apron, spectacles balanced on his nose. His hair was dark, wavy, and his build was almost identical to Callan’s.
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“Do you live down here?” Callan asked, looking around the right enclosure with skepticism.
“Let me guess, you weren’t expecting anyone to be guarding this knowledge. Thought you would stride in and examine anything you want by the mysterious light of the moon. Fair enough, but the knowledge gathered into these archives are guarded with the blade.” The man grinned, vibrant emerald light filling his hands and fashioning into a long, thick sword.
Callan immediately began creating his battle ax, but the archon abruptly plunged the Orenda sword into the stone floor beneath them, the hilt and the upper half of the sword exposed.
“You are not permitted to cross the sword. As archon, I control the secrets dispensed from the archive. Use me as your resource, as your ancient tome of knowledge.”
“I’m looking for the answers behind an organization that goes by the name of Rew. I’ve been informed that they intend to strike against the Forlorn soon.
“I don’t know why rifling through ancient tomes will help me get any closer to discovering an organization formed only recently, but my source insisted I would find answers in one of the hidden libraries of Ealias. Can you help me?”
The archon arched an eyebrow. “Rew. A play off the word ‘rue’ most likely. Whoever is leading this organization is acting based on a sense of bitter regret. Either that, or they may want revenge for some past action caused by the Forlorn.”
He gestured at a shelf of scrolls to his right. “This contains records of every full-fledged Forlorn to pass through the academy for the last hundred years or more. Most likely the man or woman you’re looking for once belonged to the Forlorn and renounced their training and started planning an uprising.
“It wouldn’t be the first time. After all, the Forlorn were born from a similar event.”
“Really?” Callan had secretly hoped to search through the ancient archive in privacy, but maybe working with the archon would lead him to answers faster.
“But that’s not why you’re here, is it.” The man seemed to enjoy teasing Callan with the aroma of withheld knowledge, like Sur’s sweet delicacies kept behind a locked glass case.
“You’re not going to tell me you memorized the records of everyone who has passed through the academy in the last hundred years, are you?”
“No,” the archon admitted. “There’s no need. Someone who openly denounces the Forlorn stands out from the masses. I remember reading about the person you’re probably looking for. Goes by the name of Sapphire.”
“Sapphire? Why?”
“Surely you don’t need me to figure that piece out,” the man grinned.
“But isn’t sapphire Orenda incredibly rare? Associated with extra powers or abilities?”
“People have fantasized and exaggerated its abilities over the years, but yes, typically anyone wielding sapphire Orenda is capable of doing things your average Forlorn would not.”
“Things like…”
“Like healing others,” the archon said, removing his spectacles and wiping them on his apron.
“So from here it should be easy to discover anyone who graduated from the academy with sapphire Orenda—surely they keep a record of something like this.”
“They do, and it is.
“There have only been two people in the last one hundred years to pass through the academy with sapphire Orenda—your friend Byron, and a man named Flynn Guildedsun.”