Feeling relief Dellen returned to the empty circle he had occupied before Ardentus had set him the task of learning under duress. After the stress of the center circle, he felt immediately relaxed, even with fresh burns on his skin.
“Perhaps I should put you in the center,” Ardentus said to the target of his ire.
The initiate looked at the ground, waiting for instructions.
Ardentus made a sound of disgust, “All of you take your places, the first to miss a ball forfeits meal privileges for the day.”
Dellen was not certain that was the punishment Ardentus thought it was. His stomach growled, hard, disagreeing with him. Forging had left him hungry, his body was waking to that fact.
They waited in silence.
Ardentus formed a ball and tossed it to another initiate, who immediately threw it on, just in time to catch a second and then a third ball. “Begin.”
Seconds later, a ball soared toward Dellen. He extended his palms, fingers outstretched, a surge of Electrical Aether danced around his hands, forming an ethereal cocoon. The ball lightning connected with his outstretched palms, instantly enveloped in his constructed sphere. A breath later, he threw the ball, keeping his eyes out, watching for another coming his way.
The exercise intensified as the initiates caught the balls and threw them faster and faster.
Ball after ball came hurtling toward him, each demanding his unwavering attention. Whenever more than one came hurtling his way, he would deflect the first across the circle before cradling the second, looking for the least prepared initiate to throw toward. He needed to break the equilibrium of the game, otherwise he knew he would be the first to drop a ball.
Dellen caught his next ball, and instead of merely catching it and throwing it on, he poured more power into it, doubling, then tripling the amount of power, then he released it at the initiate who had missed his throw before. He knew he could not compete with the initiates with raw power, but perhaps he could with skill.
It was a dangerous game, Dellen knew that if the initiate caught it, he could redouble the ball and throw back a ball too big for him to catch.
The initiate glared at him over the top of Dellen’s enhanced ball lighting. The ball flew into the initiate’s hands, where he held it. Dellen’s heart sank. He had gambled and lost. Then a second ball crashed into the initiate’s side, burning the sleeve of his robe.
“Cassius, you have forfeited meal privileges for the day,” Ardentus said.
Cassius threw the ball at Dellen.
Dellen’s heartbeat shot up, and the world slowed. He felt his pulse in his temple as he considered his options. He could try to catch the ball, but he felt certain that would end in disaster. He could dodge it, but Ardentus had been clear that dodging was not part of this training session, which left getting hit. Dellen considered the ball lightning. Getting hit would be much worse than dodging. He needed another option.
With two outstretched hands, Dellen created the largest ball lighting he could manage, holding his arms extended and up just enough to let the lightning into his reach before hitting the maelstrom of electricity in his hands and being deflected straight down into the plate beneath his feet.
Dellen jumped just before it made contact.
“Practice is over,” Ardentus said, his voice arid, eyes on Cassius.
It seemed Cassius would see no reprisal.
“You may all sit in quiet meditation until the bell tolls.”
Dellen waited to see what the others would do. They each took up position on mats that lined the walls. He copied them and sat on a mat for himself, closed his eyes, and felt the pulse of Aether through his body.
First Trinity.
It was the smallest of steps; he hadn’t seen a single person from outside of Copperopolis below First Trinity, but small or not, it was a step. He needed to catch up. He wanted to find Eliza and Finnegan, he wanted to help House Northcote, and he wanted to help the unforged from Copperopolis who had been thrown into this world where they were all but helpless. To accomplish any of his goals he needed to be stronger.
His eyes snapped open, he stood and approached Ardentus.
Ardentus ignored him for a few minutes before turning to face him, “Yes?”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Pardon my interruption. What do I need to do in order to reach Second Trinity?”
“You have been First Trinity for what, two hours? Already looking to improve?” He nodded, “Materials and talent.”
“What materials?” Dellen asked.
“Any three of titanium, aluminum, gold, nickel or palladium.”
Memories rushed to the front of his mind. Titanium improved durability, aluminum would improve his flexibility, nickel would improve his tolerance for heat and some acids, gold would improve his Aether manipulation, as would palladium. This sort of clarity and insight would have been helpful before he experimented with zinc.
Dellen knew what he wanted, titanium, gold, and palladium. Though as he recalled, titanium was uncommon and hard to come by. “Can I earn those here?” A small part of him hoped that the order would just give him the metals as they had with the silver, but he did not expect it to be the case.
Ardentus nodded toward a table covered in basic forging materials, including gold, nickel and palladium. “Those are not free. I allowed you the silver, expecting you to burn yourself to a husk on the training circle, and rid myself of a nuisance. I allowed you to practice with us, expecting the initiates to swarm you with ball lightning. If you want forging materials, I will give you the opportunity to earn them.”
Dellen felt no surprise over the words, “Thank you. How may I do so?”
“We will speak of this again, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week.” Ardentus spoke louder, “All of you, except Cassius, may leave for noontime.”
Dellen swallowed his disappointment and nodded; his stomach, at least, was eager to leave.
Cassius graced Dellen with another poisonous glare, which Dellen did his best to ignore as he left the room. He followed the initiates down the stairs to the same room where he had suffered through dinner and breakfast. Lunch was more of the same, but his hunger made him scrape his bowl clean.
Looking around, he saw that most, while still eating, had finished perhaps half of their bowls. He saw a few glances gliding over the burn marks all over his robes, but otherwise, no one paid him any attention.
After lunch, he was taken to the laundry, where he spent six hours cleaning robes. He was given an uncharred robe to replace the damage done with Ardentus after he had finished his time there. Another bland meal later, Dellen was led to the roof, where he raked sand. Hours later, Dellen was guided to his room.
He collapsed into his bed and wondered when the loop would end, his life was almost unrecognizable, but it had only been five days since his departure from Copperopolis. The loop in Copperopolis had been eight days, though he thought the end trigger had something to do with the attack. He wished Gilgamesh had been around, if only to hear his complaints.
Eyes closed, head on an uninviting pillow, he focused on his Spark Core, feeling it pull Electrical Aether from the air and circulate it through his body.
He tried to feed Aether into the orb that hid behind his right lung. He knew it was a mixture of moonstone and whisper steel, just as he knew of the hourglass within, but it rebuffed his attempts to manipulate it with his Aether. Partway through his attempts, he realized that his sense of his inner self, his ability to perceive the Aether flowing within him, and its interactions with his body had improved, no doubt an effect of reaching First Trinity.
The morning bell startled him awake.
Dellen yawned, pulled himself upright, and stretched. His back released a crack that could have stood in for a ship crashing into the ground. He smiled and shifted his back again before pulling on his robe and picking up his mask. He turned it over in his hands, examining it, a rounded high forehead covered his face from his hairline down to his eyes, continuing over the bridge of his nose, stopping in the middle to allow for breathing and eating, but continuing down the sides, framing his mouth with two near-fangs. He didn’t think the crosshatched metal added anything to the aesthetics of the mask, if anything, it made the mask uglier. With a sigh, he slipped it back on his face and stepped into the corridor.
His guide wasn’t present.
Dellen considered the implications. It could be that he was at liberty that morning, which he found unlikely; it could be that his guide had been injured or otherwise waylaid, which was possible but also seemed unlikely; or it could be that he was expected to know where to go. He suspected it was the last. This felt almost like a test to him. Whatever else was the case, there didn’t seem to be much softness or kindness in The Order of the Red Truth. Dellen was willing to bet that there were many pitfalls waiting for the unwary, much like his first training session with Ardentus, where ineptitude would have seen him dead.
This was some kind of a trap. Dellen joined the flow of red robes and walked to breakfast.
This time, his hunger was less of a physical force, relegating the food back to its status of aggressively bland, however, at the forefront of his thoughts was curiosity about what he was to do next. He decided that it was in his best interest to retrace his steps and return to Ardentus.
Upon his arrival, Dellen was unsurprised to see Ardentus standing in the centre circle, robes billowing around him again. This time there were only two initiates sitting in training circles around him. Dellen took his place in a training circle and sat cross-legged, waiting for instructions. Less than a minute later, the remaining three initiates joined them.
“Today, all six of you will attend me in the forge,” Ardentus said.
Dellen perked up, Ardentus had said that they would speak, perhaps today, about how he could earn materials for his path toward Second Trinity, but he also wanted to spend time working on the external part of his craft. He had hazy memories of creating the sphere in his chest, and had enjoyed working on the flight frame with Tristan.
Ardentus turned to look at the wall across from the entry door. Without his touching it, a large section of the stone wall pulled back, the grinding sound of shifting stone filled the air. Dellen's curiosity surged, his eyes darted between the centre circle where Ardentus stood, and the wall, wondering if, somehow, he was using Electrical Aether through the circle to activate the wall.
It was a small opening and dark. The stone ceiling was low, Dellen was certain that if he was just an inch or two taller, he would have to hunch to walk it. Ardentus, stepped from his circle and walked toward the newly revealed passage, “Follow.” Dellen and the others hurried to follow. A spark flared in Ardentus’s hand, lighting the way. One of the initiates ahead of Dellen did have to duck. Dellen stayed upright, but there was an oppressive quality to the stone, he felt like it might fall on him at any time. Just around a corner, they arrived at a forge.