42 - HOUSE FURY

The primary courtyard of the Tiran Academy was called the Square of Light, and the reason why was immediately obvious as I entered via the grand, front gates.

Golden sunlight bathed me in a warm glow. Vast, arched windows looked into the courtyard from all four sides, glass reflecting the light, amplifying it, leaving me squinting as I stepped past a pair of statues depicting ancient heroes of the Autarchy. A warden leaned toward me and offered me a map. I accepted it gratefully and studied the intricate layout of the Academy. Common rooms. Classes. Training zones. An arena. A library. A feasting hall. Stables. A smithery. Kitchens. The list went on. My eyes traveled across them in a daze. When I looked up to ask the warden where exactly I was supposed to go, I found that he’d already wandered off to hand some other clueless student a map of their own.

The Fury Common Room seemed a reasonable place to start. I spent a minute orienting myself, and then set off. Servants in gray tunics were pruning a gnarled, twisting tree at the centre of the courtyard. I waved as they passed, but they ignored me. My stomach twisted. It sickened me to see human servants at all. On the Withered Isles, we had reanimations as our slaves. They were mindless, could feel no pain or discomfort, and did not need sustenance or sleep. Here, they used conscious, breathing individuals. It was needlessly cruel. I wondered how many slaves existed all throughout the Autarchy, both in name and in reality. Another reason why things needed to change.

I imagined, for a moment, an ideal world. A world run by benevolent necromancers, who could handle the labor needs of humanity, who could supply the world with energy, channeling the souls of the dead. If hundreds of millions of human beings lived at once, then, naturally, each day, there’d be enough deaths to continually update the vast legions of skeletal slaves required to keep society functioning. The issue would be in transforming the perceptions of the masses. Right now, the very thought would horrify them as much as these human servants horrified me.

But perceptions could change. People could change.

I believed that with all my heart.

I entered through a marble archway and found myself walking along a wide hallway. The floor was granite, chequered with black and white squares. Here, the walls were painted a soft, muted pink. Potted plants, both on the floor and hanging from chains, provided a brightness to the interior that I found pleasant. Certainly, it was an improvement over the dreary gray stone of my place of birth.

“Lost?” A voice asked from nearby.

I twisted my head. Where another hallway joined this one to my left, a girl had just appeared. Blonde, with an angular, familiar face. Blue eyes. Delicate features, for all their sharpness. A lot less muscular, to be sure, but I was reminded of Mezamir.

“A little,” I admitted.

She came closer. “Where are you trying to go?”

“The common room. It says it’s this way, but—”

“Which common room?” Her eyes shone as the question emerged.

I hesitated. I had no idea just how deep the rivalry between Houses was. If I told her, and she was from an opposing House, might she mislead me or otherwise cause an issue?

I decided to find out.

“Fury,” I said. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about that. It’d be nice to be with Mezamir. At the same time, the placement didn’t make much sense to me. I had anger, yes, buried deep inside me—my mother had always been trying to reign in my impatience and temper—but it was hardly a dominant part of me. Surely I was more cerebral than furious. Or perhaps even worth of House Judgement, or Radiant, or—

But there was no point in speculating. As far as I could tell, the test had been arbitrary anyway. It likely didn’t matter at all.

“Ah, another Fury,” she grimaced. “Just like my idiot brother. Well,” she glanced at the map, “you’re going in the right direction, at the very least. Keep going. Turn left, and then you need to take the stairs. Fury is on the fourth floor.”

“Thank you,” I said sincerely. And then, feeling awkward, added, “What House are you in?”

“Brilliance,” she said, pride in her voice. “The best House—no offence. And I do mean best in an objective sort of way. Take any time at all to study the historical trends of graduates. Track their careers. You’ll see that Brilliance students generally go higher, perform better, and burn out the least.”

I hesitated. Information like that is what I was lacking. “And how does that analysis apply to Fury?”

Her eyebrows went up. “You certainly don’t talk like a Fury student. But not well, friend. Most of you, predictably, end up in the military. Generals. Sun Knights. Even a few Talons.” A shrug. “But those aren’t exactly careers with a lot of longevity. Plenty of wars to fight and, you know how it is…we might be powerful, but so are our enemies. By the way…” she was watching me closely, “what’s your name?”

“Aurion,” I said.

“And from what family…?” She asked this in a tone that suggested it was abnormal not to automatically include the family name. I made a note of that for the next time someone asked.

“Cariden,” I said. “Yourself?”

“Cariden…” she whistled. “What are you, the great, great, great grandson of Damos?”

“Something like that.”

“You don’t know?”

“I never bothered to figure out how many greats there are between the two of us. Besides, try having someone like him as your ancestor. You start to get sick of hearing all about them.” I fancied myself a terrible liar, but I was proud of how these words sounded. I was learning, at least. That was the thing about the Autarchy. You either got good at lying, or you didn’t last long.

We shook hands. “Cossara Rin,” she said. “I have to say, it’s nice to meet a Fury student who isn’t totally brainless. Makes me wonder, though, what you’re hiding just beneath the surface.” Her lips twisted up in a smile.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Rin. I knew she looked familiar.

“Mezamir’s your brother?” I asked.

“Oh.” Her smile faded. “You’ve met him already, I see. Unlucky. Yes, he is, unfortunately, my brother. Twin, to be exact.”

“I’m guessing you two don’t get along.”

“Depends on the day. But suffice it to say we’re not the most compatible.”

We stood there for a moment, looking at each other, each of us lost in our thoughts. I found myself regretting that I’d agreed to this. Better, I thought, that I’d simply remained with the Thorns.

But it was too late to turn back now.

“Thanks for your help,” I bowed my head and turned to go.

“Wait,” she called to me. “One thing.”

I paused.

“If you’re a Cariden,” she said, before I even turned around, “how come you don’t have an Autarchy accent? And why haven’t I seen you before?”

My smile was brittle as I faced her. “I’ve stayed out of the public eye in order to—”

“Avoid assassinations?”

I nodded.

“Odd,” she said, “because the thing is, I’m rather good friends with your sister. And I’ve never seen you at your manor. Nor has she ever mentioned you.”

I froze, every part of me tensing.

My disguise was ruined already. Just my luck.

And now what was I supposed to do? What would the Autarch have wanted me to do? I could kill her, I supposed, a subtle murder; I could break off a tiny part of her skull and propel it at high speeds directly through her brain. If I was feeling particularly adventurous, I could even attempt to hit whatever part of her mind was responsible for memories, hoping she didn’t outright die—

What the fuck was I thinking?

I wasn’t going to kill an innocent girl. Not over this. Not over anything.

“We’ve never really gotten along,” I said with a false laugh. “You seem to know how that goes. Besides, I’ve…been away. For quite a while. Studying abroad.” To my ears, it sounded entirely unconvincing, but it was the best I had.

Cossara tapped her chin. “I see. Well. Don’t let me hold you up. I’ll see you around.”

“You will,” I agreed.

The moment I was out of sight, ascending a flight of marble stairs, I let out a deep breath. Maybe I was safe. Maybe I wasn’t.

I figured I’d find out soon enough.

#

The common room of House Fury proved to be far grander than I’d been expecting.

Chandeliers hung from a vaulted ceiling. There was a fountain right at the center, water cascading out in a constant, gleaming flow. Soft lantern light illuminated luxurious lounges. There were round, mahogany tables, and rows of bookshelves filled with a wide variety of tomes. Around three dozen students were already there, broken off into small groups. Some sat on the lounges. Others stood in loose circles. I spotted Mezamir speaking with two others, a man and a woman, close to the fountain, and went straight for them.

Spotting me, Mezamir grinned. “Ah, Aurion! I knew you’d be a Fury. I could see it in your eyes.” He pounded my chest. “Plus,” he said, turning his grin upon his two companions, “you’re a gods damned Cariden! No chance you’d be anything other than Fury. It runs in your veins, my friend! The blood of the greatest warrior to have ever lived!”

The woman next to Mezamir scoffed. She was nearly as tall as I was, but far denser, with a shaved head and eyes like honey. Her scalp was scarred, as were her arms. “Damos is not the greatest of all time,” she said. “You’re a fool to even say that.”

Mezamir scowled. “Is that so? Then who would you say is?”

“Toss up between the Twilight Angel and the Silent Storm,” she said. “Although if the two fought, I’d bet on the Silent Storm. I met him once, you know. Taramir Alanon. He blessed my sword.”

“He did not,” Mezamir rolled his eyes. “Elasarin, one of these days, your lies are going to catch up to you.”

Elasarin stabbed a finger into his chest. “Call me a liar one more time, Mez. See what happens.”

The other man, shorter and thinner than the rest of us, with bronzed skin and dark eyes that always seemed to be moving, made to step between the two. “Peace, peace. No need to fight over it.” He paused for a second. “Besides, you’re both wrong. The Autarch is obviously the greatest warrior of all time.”

A new wave of arguments exploded out of the three. I watched with a frown.

The Academy was full of children.

Eventually, they seemed to remember I was still standing there. The bronzed boy offered me his hand. “Damar,” he said. “Damar Jal. And before you ask about the accent…I’m Sihalian. Grandson of the emperor. Or one of them, anyway.

“A pleasure,” I said. It told me a lot about the current state of relations between Sihalia and the Autarchy, that the emperor was sending their grandchildren to study at the Academy.

“What dorm are you in?” Mezamir asked me.

“How do I know?”

“Check the other side of your pin.”

I did so. There, tiny, engraved, the number 4.

Mezamir slapped me on the back. “You know, I think we must be destined to be friends, Aurion.” He turned his pin over, showing me his own 4. “The world has brought us together, here and now, in the greatest academy of the greatest nation history has ever seen. Side by side, we will build the future together!” His tone was jovial, not entirely serious, but I could hear a layer of sincerity beneath it all. These people were genuinely patriotic, true believers of the Tiran Autarchy and everything it stood for.

It endlessly amazed me just how good a job Marak had done at making an entire continent see things his way. That was true power.

Elasarin just shook her head. “Real dramatic, Mez. When we all know you’ll be bottom-ranked and sent to the front lines.”

“Luckily,” said Mezamir, “the front lines are exactly where I want to go. The enemies of the Autarchy will tremble when they see me coming.”

“Or laugh.”

“They might laugh so hard,” added Damar, “that they drop their weapons. That’d be useful.”

Mezamir fell silent.

“Don’t worry,” I said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “I believe in you.”

“Only because he’s too nice,” said Elasarin.

Mezamir draped his arm over my shoulder and steered me away from the other two. He led me across the common room, toward one of sixteen identical oak doors. “Come, friend, let’s get away from those bullies. We don’t need them, eh? You and I, Aurion.” He flashed me a grin. “We’re going to take over the world.”