Chapter 78 - Master and Student
Syrene Le Sueur glided through the air upon her Streamline spell. The spell would be hideously complex to cast manually, likely requiring a spell matrix be prepared beforehand for many of the more onerous spells which must be laid out for the actual transportation spell to be cast successfully. Most mages would rather use a far simpler and more practical Misty Conveyance spell.
Fortunately, Syrene was very much unlike most other mages. She was a water summoner who had awakened at the early age of 16. Her talent had been richly nourished by the Empire and the Aegis Academy until her summoned spirit, Caessa, had advanced to the peak 4th level.
This meant that it merely took her a moment to focus her will, and Caessa had obediently fashioned the intricate spell for her from the vast magical arsenal that had been carefully imbued into her essence core.
Most summoners would balk at using up the precious and limited capacity of a summoned spirit’s essence core for an extravagant luxury such as Sarl’s Aqueous Streamline. It provided only marginally higher speed than lesser spells. Its only true advantages were the height it could reach, and the smoothness of its gliding movement. While more commonly used spells such as the Misty Conveyance could only rise up to a paltry thirty feet off the ground before losing integrity and stability, the Streamline spell could soar hundreds of feet into the air.
Not only that, but its main advantage was the comfort it provided. The Streamline spell provided a full enclosure of water which glided along smoothly upon near invisible rails of water elemental energy suspended upon the air. This ensured that there would be hardly a hitch felt even in the face of the strongest gusts of wind, as the surface of the spell would bend and absorb most impacts. The elaborate braids and curls her hair had been worked into resembled the petals of a flower opening toward the sky. She had spent nearly two hours at the local hairdressers’ shop in order to properly prepare for the important events that would take place tomorrow.
These were the reasons why Syrene considered the essence space required for the spell in Caessa’s core very much worth the investment. It was an intoxicating feeling to soar high above the heads of the many ordinary townsfolk passing by beneath her feet. Likely, at this height they would mistake her soaring figure for that of a particularly swift bird of prey. Little did they imagine that a woman barely into her late thirties had reached the saint level as a summoner and was flying through the skies above far more swiftly than any bird ever could.
“ And far more comfortably, as well,” Syrene noted in her mind as she brushed a lock of her exquisitely curled black hair back from her face, idly tapping her foot upon the semi-solid surface of the water bubble which surrounded her on all sides.
The Farrow farm should be coming up ahead in a few minutes. Syrene would pay an official visit to the little farmstead in the morning, but first she wanted to see what information could be gleaned from this mysterious family which had attracted her curiosity.
First and foremost, she needed to understand the gifted genius she was to take under her wing. Apprenticeships were a very serious matter, particularly so when summoners were involved. Her own master had been a pivotal influence in her own rise to power as a summoner. She had been an unruly, arrogant daughter of a noble family, born with a silver spoon in her mouth and soaring even higher after her potential to become a summoner had been discovered.
If not for the patient care and strict discipline of her master, Syrene would have never reached her current heights in fame and power. As this was to be her very first apprentice, she wanted to do it right and leave no stone unturned.
Kassandra Farrow was an intriguing girl. She was a diamond in the rough, her untapped potential far greater than even the shining reports had stated before she came under the orders of the Academy. Leaving aside the fact that she had awakened her first spirit at nine years of age - which had to be some kind of record - Syrene still recalled her surprise when she saw that it was a humanoid spirit instead of the primal beast-like spirits which were most summoners’ first spirit. After all, summoning a spirit which took on human qualities and even had a glimmer of self-awareness was a feat only those with the strongest willpower could achieve.
However, for now she was nearly as interested in her entire family. Skyle Farrow had beaten two older mage students using nothing but a bow and his wits. Reikard Farrow had hardly blinked an eye as he faced his sister’s imminent awakening, as though it was only normal and to be expected. Even when his healing spells failed to help his unconscious brother, he had been cool as a cucumber.
Syrene was truly intrigued by the parents who had given birth to, and raised such remarkable children. One or two might be fate or happy circumstance. All three, however, spoke of something far beyond mere luck.
Usually, Syrene was a curious woman but her busy schedule would not accommodate such a whimsical investigation. However, now that it directly affected her future apprentice-to-be, Syrene had both the motivation and justification to indulge her curiosity.
Perhaps it was due to the many thoughts flittering busily through her mind, that she did not see the razor-sharp edge of the windblade before it sliced through the top half of her Streamline sphere and blew it clean off.
One moment, Syrene was idly playing with a curl of dark hair between her fingers, the next she was blasted full in the face by the howling gales of wind which had been kept at bay by her Streamline spell. At the speed at which she was moving, it threw her hair into complete disarray and nearly knocked her flying out of the sphere altogether.
Surprise quickly gave way to rage as Syrene entered the Spirit Sight and followed the trail of elemental essence left by that wretched windblade. Rapidly narrowing down upon its point of origin, she altered the direction of her Streamline spell with a mere thought while commanding Caessa to weave a barrier spell around herself.
Furious, she might be, but a mage who had managed to not only strike, but to cleanly sever into her Streamline spell while it was moving through the darkness of the night, would be a foe that demanded her full attention and caution. He must be a skilled Mortal level elementalist at the very least!
Her Streamline globe hovered twenty feet off the ground as she stared at the silhouette of a startingly young man who stood with a straight back in the middle of a clearing in the forest below. His cool eyes stared back at her with careless indifference, ignoring the fury that filled Syrene’s expression.
“How dare you attack an Aegis’sur unprovoked? Explain yourself before I tear you to shreds for your impudence!” Syrene growled.
The young man looked to be barely over thirty, which was incredibly young for a Mortal level master. He had dark hair and a clean-shaven face, but the rest of his features were obscured by the cowl of a heavy cloak. What made the hair in Syrene’s arms stand on end was the fact that she was having difficulty reading his elemental signature. This meant that either he had mastered a technique for disguising his magical aura, or it was beyond even Syrene’s ability to read.
Neither boded well for her.
“Syrene Le Sueur, this area is strictly off-limits for all practitioners of the elements. I’m surprised Aegis has done such an ill-job of informing its staff of the local rules.”
The man’s voice was low and husky, possessing neither the overbearing arrogance his power would justify, nor the animosity his previous attack upon her would suggest.
“First of all, on what grounds do you dare to designate an area as off-limits to an Aegis’sur. No, before that, it would still not be justification for an unprovoked attack upon any elementalist. I demand to know who you are right now!”
The man eyed her cooly for one long moment, before slowly raising his hand and parting the folds of his cloak for one brief instant. This single glimpse upon the distinctive scarlet and black pattern of the man’s armor was enough for Syrene’s blood to run cold and her tongue to cleave to the roof of her mouth.
“Ah, Lord Inq-” Syrene began, but was instantly silenced by the slightest of contractions upon the man’s expression. He was deliberately concealing the armor of his office, which meant he did not wish to be identified. “I meant no offense, sir. I will remove myself from the premises immediately, and no word of what has transpired this evening shall ever pass through my lips.”
The man nodded calmly and turned around, then walked away without a word, as though he had expected her reaction. Which did not surprise Syrene at all.
Even an exalted Aegis’sur would quake in her boots before the presence of a Lord Inquisitor of the Holy Church.
Her former curiosity completely forgotten, Syrene quickly commanded Caessa to cast another Streamline spell. This time, she leapt into the air without a care for her frazzled looks. She wanted to be as far away from this place as she possibly could.
Inquisitors were never good news, particularly one as young and powerful as the one before her.
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Kendric Farrow puffed out a thick cloud of smoke from where stood, leaning against the front porch of his house as he watched the night sky above. It was a cloudy evening, and neither the moon nor the stars could be seen through the blanketing mist.
His face was an unreadable mask as he removed the pipe from his lips and tapped it against the wooden railing behind his back. Black ash fell to the ground in small clumps while Kendric pursed his lips thoughtfully. He raised the pipe to eye-level before blowing into the opening, clearing any remaining ash.
He let out a quiet groan as he pushed himself off the railing just briefly enough that he was able to reach into his back pocket and take out a handful of herbs. He stuffed the dry mix into his pipe before reaching into his front pocket with his other hand.
A single tongue of flickering green flame sparked into life right in front of Kendric’s face. The farmer’s face didn’t show any expression at all as he dropped the hand he had been rummaging in his pocket with, and instead leaned his head forward to light his pipe with the green flame.
Kendric inhaled and his pipe soon lit up with a crimson glow as smoke began to swirl into the air. He exhaled, letting a thin cloud of grey smoke drift into the air for a long moment before pushing his pipe to one side of his mouth. He held the stem of the pipe between his teeth before he finally spoke.
“How many we be of service to you in this humble farm, Lord Inquisitor?”
A shadow moved away from the wall behind Kendric. It resolved itself into the hooded figure of a man wearing a dark cloak. Underneath its folds, an elaborate metal armor of red and black could be seen reflecting the dim glow of Kendric’s pipe.
“I’m wearing my cloak, sir. Couldn’t you at least pretend you remember some of the training you put me through?”
“Oh, must be all the years digging up turnips,” Kendric said flatly. “What do you want, sir Talon?”
“Sir, the organization has received numerous reports of rift activity from this area,” Talon began quietly, shifting his weight.
“Stop fidgeting, you’re making me restless. One would think I’d slapped that habit out of your head with so many whacks,” Kendric muttered.
Talon smiled humorlessly, spreading his hands to his sides. “I haven’t fidgeted in almost five years, sir - which happens to coincide with my last visit to your beautiful farm.”
“I thought I made it clear the last time that your presence was unwelcome,” Kendric said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he puffed out another long cloud of smoke.
Talon’s smile withered as his hands reflexively twitched toward the weapons strapped to his back. After a moment, he let out a sigh as he dropped his hands and shook his head.
“After all this time, you still can’t resist making me twitch just for the pleasure of seeing your pupil jump. I swear, sometimes you’re worse than a little kid. Sir.”
“Former pupil. And well, we don’t often get to see the exalted Right Hand of Shadow jump like a startled cat around these parts,” Kendric shrugged, unapologetic.
“I’ll always be your student, no matter what anyone says. And that would be Right Eye now, sir.” Talon whispered.
That finally got a reaction from Kendric. He shook his head as he drew deeply from the pipe on his lips, all the while squinting at Talon with a measuring look in his eyes.
“Huh,” Kendric finally grunted, belching out a thin ring of smoke. “The Right Eye of Shadow himself. My, what an honor. They must be saying that the student walks in the footsteps of the master, back at the capital. How very rich.”
Talon lowered his head for a moment before he caught himself.
“You know there will only ever be one rightful Right Eye of Shadow, sir - and damn what those rotten bureaucrats have to say about that,” Talon said with a fierce expression on his face.
“I thought you were supposed to always keep your cool, Talon. Your teacher would be disappointed if he saw you lose control like that, especially during an assignment.” Kendric pointed out in a casual tone.
Talon didn’t bother to deny it, as they both knew it would be useless to deny that he was here for work. “I took over the case myself, sir. Sealed the reports to the flame and slip-streamed here as quickly as I was able to.”
Kendric sighed then, taking the pipe from his lips and throwing another measuring glance toward his former student.
“I really thought I taught you better, boy. You’re still too soft. It’ll get you killed, in this line of work,” Kendric said.
All the response he got was a near imperceptible twitch of Talon’s shoulders.
“Talon, the storm comes. Ari- ah, my wife almost lost control this evening,” Kendric said softly, almost as though to himself.
Talon’s eyes bulged as he took a quick step back to steady himself, his chest heaving as though he had just run a race. Thin beads of sweat rolled down his face.
“What happened?” he urged.
“It’s my son, Skyle,” Kendric answered simply.
Talon’s gaze grew fierce. “What happened to him? How badly wounded is he? Will he live? I swear, I’ll find those-”
Kendric took the pipe from his lips and waved it back and forth in front of his student’s face.
“No, nothing like that. He will awaken soon, with a minor burn or two,” Kendric said.
“Then..?” Talon prompted, the question obvious on his face.
“He was hurt,” Kendric said simply, then raised an eyebrow at Talon’s disbelieving gape.
“Twelve long years, and you Imperial types still don’t understand the first thing about my wife,” Kendric sighed through his nose, then looked straight into Talon’s eyes with all the gravity he could muster. “I thought I told you before, boy. If anything ever happens to Skyle, if he should ever have so much as a carpet rash from you Imperial types, my wife will summon the furies of the primordial elements and tear down your Empire by its roots in one single, world-ending day.”
Talon’s face was drained of all color as he swallowed dryly. “I- I believe you, sir. However, five years is a long time by Imperial standards, let alone twelve. The Shadow War is more of a myth than legend now, and the politicians must once again be reminded of the bitter cost of snatching victory from the jaws of oblivion. And may I remind you, it was once your Empire as well?”
Kendric shook his head. “No, not anymore. Not for the past decade. I fulfilled all my oaths to the Empire when I was thrown to the wolves and left to die in a world not my own. I broke all ties with the Emperor when he sent assassins after my wife and children for his political ambitions.”
Talon quickly shook his head. “Sir, you know the Emperor himself ordered the beasts responsible for those orders executed and their houses wiped out to the last.”
Kendric sneered then. “You and I both know those were only more sacrifices, pawns the Emperor uses when it suits his needs - Just like me and my family.”
Talon tried to protest, but Kendric held up a finger, and long years of training kicked in, forcing the Right Eye of Shadow himself to clamp his mouth shut like an obedient schoolboy.
“Only, not even the Emperor imagined this particular pawn would actually have a far sharper sword than he had ever imagined. Nor that his wife could single-handedly tear down half of his empire at her whim, though the attempt would immediately come at the price of her life.”
Talon could only shake his head in regret.
“Talon, you tell that petty old man that our agreement is still in place. Leave us alone, and we shall not intervene in his contemptible power games. Touch a single finger on my family’s hair, however, and not only will I use all my years of training and my sharpest blades to rip out the heart of the Empire, but my wife will tear down the seals she has placed upon her own power - even at the cost of her life - and leave only a shattered husk where Solaria once proudly stood.”
“But sir, the situation is changing. The rifts are awakening once again,” Talon said, spreading his hands.
“So?” Kendric raised an indifferent eyebrow.
“The enemy you vanquished at such high cost to yourself, to our friends, our comrades - they might return!”
Kendric snorted at that, truly amused.
“So what?” He repeated.
“What do you mean? Our whole world might lie at deadly peril!” Talon finally cried out in frustration.
Kendric took one final drag from his pipe, before taking it from his mouth and tapping it against the wooden railing to empty the ashes. Only then did he turn with deliberate gravity towards his former student.
“You don’t understand, Talon. My boy is sick, and you talk to me about the world? I would wash the world in flames and watch it crumble into ashes if it would give my Skyle one hair of reprieve from his trials.”
Talon rocked back in his steps, staring at his teacher as though he were seeing him for the first time.
“Hell, I’m of half a mind to do that right fucking now. So don’t even bother hoping I’ll stick my ass out for that whole drivel about the world. My family IS my world, and I’ll do anything I damn please and can do in order to protect them. Especially that boy. I owe him, Talon. I owe him far more than you can imagine, and by god I swear I will see my debt repaid in full before I finally bite the dust. You got that through your thick skull?”
Talon could only nod slowly.
“Then pass me that tobacco you got hidden in your right hand pocket and help me light up another pipe. It’s going to be a long night,” Kendric Farrow sighed, throwing a glance over his shoulder toward the house at his back.
So, Talon Hawkeye, the Right Eye of Shadow, finally closed his mouth and did as he was told.
It would be a long night.