Today there’s a visit. They’ve been told to be on their best behaviour, the students that is. That’s me he’s thinking of. Syndra and Yima had discussed at length the proper attire for an important guest and Syndra had had to yield in the end. Uniformity from the student body would be preferable. They would want to show a united front, such was Konigen’s wisdom. Why highlight the strengths and unique magics on display? Syndra had pointed out, somewhat sarcastically. Yima had instead argued that was never the purpose. Konigen had to show control, to that purpose the student body had to show restraint.

In silent protest, Syndra had chosen to tie her hair with a simple band, instead of braiding it like the others. With the robes, they wouldn’t tell either way.

Now they stood as they ranked, the highest ranking in the front row, and Syndra behind. Every rank until the children could barely float a rock. From head to toe, Konigen had his small army of mages. They had gathered like any other day. Only this time it wasn’t for eachother, neither for Konigen.

This morning was somewhat warm. As warm as a shaded courtyard by the sea can be at dawn. Shifting her weight from one leg to the other, her breath crystallized with an agitated sigh.

This is a waste of time Syndra clenched her teeth, itching to get to training. She held firm and waited, if she ever wanted to graduate, she had to remain measured, constrained. She took a deep breath, stinging her lungs.

Konigen walked through the gates, with a carriage in tow, drawn by a two worax. The house tree-woven in classical Ionian fashion, yet it looked somewhat foreign. The entire cart had some, kind of, energy to it… It felt alien, yet somehow still, familiar. Syndra felt almost drawn to it. She hid her arms inside her sleeves, pinching herself to remain focused.

The carriage was flanked on either side by retainers. They wore mismatching garbs, covering the clinking metal underneath. Each a flurry of colour and sound. Their weapons looked gruesome, and exotic. Angular and powerful. Syndra had no fear, only fascination.

Konigen seemed to be in conversation with one of them. He wore clear emerald robes. Rarely seen donning finer clothing. It was weird to see him so… humbled.

He let the carriage towards the students, where it slowed its advance, until it stood a hand’s worth of paces from the cohort of mages. Konigen stood facing the carriage, as one of the four armed and armored guards moved to open the doors of the coach house.

In that moment, she felt some kinship towards these strange foreign soldiers with unknown banners and colors. Many-coloured as they seemed, they too were uniformed, they too followed orders. Travelling to and from foreign lands, a longing for freedom. Wonder if I could travel with them, leave this temple for ship, trade stone for wood, or would I just trade one mask for another?

The old woman who stepped out of the carriage looked Ionian, though her clothing foreign and skin weathered. She glanced at the square of young students in shallow appraisal.

“Are these all of them? I thought there would be more” Her voice rasp from years of strain, and demeanor betraying disappointment. Who was this person to judge them based off their number, without taking a single look at their abilities? Konigen, in a rare display of agreement, seemed to share Syndra’s thoughts.

“These are each trained in unique magical arts and each easily worth a coven.” Konigen boasted. Using his fine robe’s long sleeves to full effect, as he gestured towards the gathering. She scoffed, obviously unimpressed.

“Then show me if this is worth the investment” with an arrogant air, she moved past the students.

Marching towards the main entrance, her stride long for her wizened frame. Konigen gestured for the front row to follow.

“The next two rows, help unload the carriage and put it in the cellar and the rest of you can find your assigned tasks in the mess. Oh… And no magic when lifting them!”

With a wave of his hands and a dramatic turn, Syndra relaxed her stance and looked towards the Yima and the rest of the group walking with Konigen and the mysterious woman.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

She wouldn’t be so full of herself if I could show her what we’re made of. Syndra shook herself out of her daydream and walked towards the carriage. The uneasy feeling amplified the closer she got to the crates stacked on the backside of the wooden vehicle. The guards unloaded the heavy crates. Her peers groaned, realizing they were the ones who had to ferry the crates. Previously she’d thought it a fleeting feeling, but the closer she got, the more she felt a pull. A certain emptiness. They filtered out, pair by pair, and box by box, until it was only Aolien and Syndra left. But she barely noticed, until Aolien called out to her. She snapped out of her stupor for the second time that day. Grabbing the side opposite she lifted.

They walked in silence, until he broke it. “Why do you think we aren’t supposed to move these with magic?”

She shifted her grip, as they turned a corner. “Probably Konigen’s idea of a lesson or something. Learning our place as second rank students.” Aolien noticing her obvious annoyance, changed the topic. “So… What do you think is inside the box?”

Syndra chewed on that question a while “I couldn’t tell you… But it feels weird”

“Weird how?”

“Like… It’s disturbing something. Like it’s trying to take something from the air. It’s… Kind of dry?”

Aolien looked pensive. “I… Think I know what you’re talking about”

After a moment they reached the stairs leading down. Yatta was coming up the stairs with Seito, pushing past the two of them. Syndra lost her grip, and the crate dropped. A sound of stone and wood colliding, rattling the insides. The two offenders muttered an apology and hurried back towards the courtyard. Syndra swore under her breath and looked down at the crate. The corner had completely broken off, they wouldn’t be able to carry this down the stairs.

“I’ll go look for a hammer or stretcher… Or something” Aoelien muttered, clearly sharing annoyment. His footsteps echoed through the corridor, step by step leaving Syndra alone with the box. She stared at the mess, the quiet growing oppressive. She looked around, checking if anyone was around her, seeing the coast clear. She knelt by the broken side and peered into the box.

It held a kind of rock. Syndra groaned. She reached out towards the contents of the crate. Konigen has got to be the worst teacher to ever teach. Her hand attracted to the object, on contact the first thing she noticed was that it was in fact wood, and the second thing, her hand felt energized. She pulled her hand back, the object stuck to her like cold metal, leaving her hand slightly numbed. She tested her fingers. Apart from being slightly red her hand was fine. The adrenaline that came with surprisal was wearing off, and she stood back up.

If Konigen thinks he can order us around for a prank, I’m moving it however I want. She summoned her magic to lift the box and felt the pull again. The box remained still. Syndra’s brows furrowed. Stupid box. She focused her full attention on the container. Still nothing. The temperature sank and colour muted. She was sure she was using magic, but it felt like lifting a sleeping arm. The box remained still. You dare? Challenged by the box. Intrigued by the contents. Her raw power, questioned? By a piece of grey wood?

She lifted her hand, and the air in the room, the temple itself, shifted. The box warmed and vibrated, it slowly lifted off the ground, one corner at a time. Syndra smiled to herself, but her momentary success was halted, as once more fell to the ground. She redoubled her efforts. This box would not beat her. Fully lifted off the ground the unfettered magic bringing her off the ground as well.

A sudden explosion sent shattered wood in every direction. The eruption originating from within the box. She barely had time to redirect magic to deflect the shrapnel.

A burst of splintered wood flew past her. She managed to parry fragments that would otherwise have torn her apart. The blast threw her back into the stone walls, and a sharp pain engulfed her senses.

She woke up with a splitting headache, Aolien knelt beside her. With vision blurry and spotted, she faintly heard the unmistakable sound of Konigen yelling.

Damn… My band has come undone.