Altered consciousness was not Max’s specialty.
At first, Max wasn't sure it was a dream. In fact, he wasn't even aware of his own identity. The scene began to play out, and it was only after a few moments that Max caught himself, preventing himself from being totally engrossed in what was unfolding before him.
Once he had re-established his own sense of identity, accepting that he was in a dream and that he couldn't do anything about it, he put two and two together. It was especially obvious when he began paying closer attention to what was actually happening.
A tall, dark-skinned man stood in formal Summoner robes wearing a badge that declared him a fifth-year. There was a woman standing before him with a serious expression. She was stocky and pale with sharp, serious eyes. The woman had been speaking, and Max began actually paying attention as she said, "I believe you're the most talented student the Summoner Academy has ever seen. I do not understand this desire to leave. Truth be told, you could have left your second year. Perhaps even your first year. And as you know, even with all the professor endorsements to leave you've gotten, I still have the right to try guiding you. This is my academy, after all."
At those words, Max started and suddenly noticed that the woman was wearing accessories he recognized. Whenever this memory was made, this person must have been the headmaster of the Summoner Academy. She continued, "Ancilla, even though it's two more years, staying here won’t affect when you get back to your world. And in two more years, you would have had two more years to learn. It's a waste to go back now."
The tall man, Ancilla, shook his head. "No, headmaster, I have made up my mind. Besides, I do not think there is much more I can learn in this Quartet."
Obviously frustrated, the headmaster sighed. "The fact you're limited to knowledge in this Quartet is your own fault, though. You've refused to take part in the quartet competitions. You would have very easily gone far and you could have asked to study in other Quartets, maybe even gotten an extension on your allocated time."
"Yes, that's right," said Ancilla. "I did not. And, I believe you know why as well."
The headmaster hissed, "Quiet, no more on that, even in private."
Max noticed at least two spirits behind him and Ancilla now, but he got the impression there were more. The power he had received from Tom, the remnant spirit, seemed to be growing. In fact, one of the spirits that Max could barely make out behind Ancilla was Tom. At this point, the spirit was recognizable but sort of like a gnome floating with a wispy tail. Max remembered Lavinia saying that Tom's personality and how he looked might have changed over time.
Not for the first time, Max wondered how old Tom had been. The question was relevant to this memory.
Ancilla chuckled, "I'm about to leave, Headmaster. You're the one who needs to deal with this mess, with politics and backstabbing and shadowy powers. I want no part of it. And although the temptation for more knowledge is great, and I would love to visit the other Quartets, I want to avoid complications."
The headmaster shook her head. "Ancilla, I think you're in denial. You have seen enough and you know enough, unfortunately, to know that complications are inevitable for those who stand out. Those who stand out the most will end up bending the knee or being destroyed. It is only a matter of time. This is why you should stay. If those like you all meet the same end anyway, why not grasp all the rewards you can beforehand?"
"I'll take my chances," said Ancilla.
The headmaster stared at the fifth-year student for a full five seconds. She turned and said, "So be it. I hope for your sake that you are able to grow in power quickly enough to save yourself when they come for you. Because mark my words, with your talent, they will definitely come for you.”
“I thought you said not to speak of this, even in private.”
The headmaster made a frustrated slash of her hand. “Avoiding Quartet competitions only delays the inevitable, and it might have prevented you from discovering other ways to make yourself stronger…or perhaps gather allies."
"I will be fine, and I've had the good fortune of contracting with five remnant spirits."
"Five?" The headmaster whirled around in surprise.
"Yes, five.”
“That is quite a bit. Yes, quite a bit. But you are still arrogant. I have many more spirits than you, and far more experience. Granted, I am not as talented, but I'm sure that you would agree I am the most powerful Summoner in this quartet. And yet, even I would be terrified to go against–" She paused and whispered, "you know who."
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"Yes, yes," said Ancilla. "I promise you I will remain diligent and vigilant. But for now, I would like to go back to my world. And you are the one who facilitates this."
"It is true that this is one of my duties," grumbled the headmaster.
She turned away from Ancilla and moved to a section of the wall indistinguishable from the rest, with tiled mosaics, scenes of different archetypes of spirits, all laid out in different artistic styles. She pushed a specific sequence of three small tiles, and a drawer popped out. Max was able to move closer in the dream and looked into the drawer.
Inside, on a bed of velvet, were two daggers. Both of them hummed with power. Max could feel his spirit vibrate with it, even in the dream. The drawer that had held them must have been heavily shielded. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ancilla react as well. He lifted an eyebrow.
The daggers were not identical–one was white and one was black. Curiously, the white dagger looked very well used, while the black dagger almost looked like it had never been taken out of the box. Max noticed a curious design he'd never seen before on the white dagger, before the headmaster lifted it out and closed the drawer. She held the weapon loosely in one hand with an air of familiarity.
"Ancilla, do you know why the headmaster is usually the most powerful Challenger in any Quartet academy?"
Ancilla frowned at the seemingly random question. "I thought it was obvious…so that the leader of the academy would also be respected as the strongest."
"That's part of it," said the headmaster, "and it's partially about checks and balances. Also partially about ability. But a large part is because it’s necessary in other ways. You see, this dagger is one of the most closely held secrets in the entire Quartet system to the uninitiated, or at least the existence of the dagger is. All students know they can be sent back to their home world early and nobody questions how that is, because everyone turns up in the Quartet painlessly after receiving a Path. But going back early from the Quartet requires sacrifice. It requires death.
“In order to head back early, you need to die one more time, and it needs to be with this dagger. Its default shape is a dagger. Of course, I might be able to change it to other weapon shapes if I wanted, but my gifts are not martial in nature, and this dagger will serve me just fine. For you see, that is one reason why the Headmaster must be strongest. This secret is kept very well. And in order for it to stay that way, students who falter, who change their mind at the last minute, perhaps students that have never died in the Quartet before and are afraid, they must be sent back through force if necessary."
“How does everyone who is sent back early not just tell everyone?
“It’s a magic built into the device. Those it is used on will find themselves forgetting about it, and strongly reluctant to talk about it if the subject comes up. But that circle of secrecy only maintains itself if everyone who sees these devices either wields them or is transferred by one.”
Ancilla eyed the dagger and he chuckled. "Don't worry, I won't run away. It makes a certain sort of sense to me, although I will admit." His eyes glinted, and the spirits behind him, including Tom, all stirred restlessly as they sensed Ancilla's mood. "If you had removed the black dagger from the box, I think we would be having a different conversation right now, though. And perhaps I would be fighting you with my life on the line as a result."
The headmaster gave him a flat look. "Again, you are saying things out loud that are too dangerous to ever be uttered anywhere, much less in the middle of an academy, in a headmaster's study in one of the Quartets. Some things you are able to intuit, or think you have intuited, you should keep to yourself. For your own safety, I will neither confirm nor deny anything that you have said. However, if you push this… as much as I like you and as much as I believe you will do amazing things, I will have no choice but to test your theory. My first loyalty is to this academy."
Even as a spectator, Max could feel the sudden chill in the air. The headmaster was being absolutely deadly serious.
"I understand, Headmaster. Do what you have to do now, please. Let's get this over with. I have little love for the Quartet, although I must thank you for everything you've done for me and all of the many talks we've had, all of the wisdom that you've shared with me–especially over the last year. You will always be an important teacher to me."
The headmaster's stern expression melted a bit, and her eyes glistened. "I'm truly going to miss you, Ancilla. I believe you are going to do great things, truly great things. Remember that everything you do reflects on the Summoner Academy and will bring glory to those who trained you."
"Oh, definitely," said Ancilla. He smiled warmly. "I want to show the whole universe how well we are taught in the Quartet."
He coughed, and as he turned, his eyes changed, growing flat. It was only a split second, but Max saw it. His expression had gone from warm to predatory in a split second. Max got the feeling Ancilla had an objective, and it was highly unlikely that the Summoner Academy headmaster knew of it or would approve. She approached one more step and then let the dagger loosen in the air. It hovered in front of her face, slowly rising.
She said, "Again, goodbye, Ancilla. It was a pleasure knowing you, and it's unfortunate that we will likely never see each other again. However, if we were to meet again, I would be pleased."
The dagger flashed forward, and the entire scene was coated in red. The vision–or dream– began to fade away, but before it did, Max heard Tom's voice whisper in his ear, "As the future had it, Ancilla and the headmaster did see each other again, and upon their meeting, she was not pleased to see him at all."
The dream ended, and Max woke from his sweat-stained sheets. He sat up and ran a hand across his face. "What in the heck was that?"
Most days, he would start his day with some sort of training or exercise, but this time he got out of bed, hopped in the shower, and dressed in one of his new outfits before heading straight to the library. He wanted to research everything he could remember from his dream while it was still fresh in his mind.
There was no way he was going to write notes about his dream in his tablet unless he used code, and even that might not be wise.