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The Salamanders
Interlude - Flicker 2

Interlude - Flicker 2

“Is she in?”

The secretary looked up. A faint sound came from behind the door and he had his answer. She’s in. He strode past the desk.

“Excuse me, students cannot just go in there,” the woman tried as she got up, but he had already slammed the door open.

Denner stood on the near side of her desk. She turned when she heard him coming, caught off-guard. Busy as always? She would find time to listen.

Kyle growled at her, “I’m done.”

“Mr. Jonasson?”

“I can’t do this anymore—”

“Ma’am, I tried stopping him, but—”

“Six months. Six—fucking—months. I should just pack my stuff and leave.”

“It’s fine, Melanie. Please, close the door.”

“I gave you half a year of my life and still haven’t gotten so much as a bent penny in return. ‘Get an education,’ you said. ‘It’s free,’ you said. We’ll pay for it. You can still level and you’ll regret it if you don’t.’ Horseshit. I haven’t leveled at all and I’m regretting it right now.”

He shouted in her face, but she just furrowed her brows slightly. “Haven’t you gained two levels in [Fighter]?”

“That’s not what I mean. Listen to me!” He kicked a file box on the ground and began to pace side to side, shorter on one end as he got too close to the large flame burning on her stove.

“Kyle.”

Oh, so that got a reaction out of her? Who the hell even had a massive fire in their office?

“I’m barely learning. I can barely learn because I didn’t finish classroom and got here in the middle of the year. I have no idea what’s going on. I can’t level, because you won’t let me.”

“That’s not—”

“You didn’t send me to the Fields, did you?” he forged on. “So much for your lies about [Woodcutters] in Hadica. But no, all I can do is level [Fighter] in stupid team exams, and team exercises, and sparring sessions with all those other fucktards.”

She stood. “Kyle.”

“So I have to look for other opportunities. But they’re all too slow or freaking illegal. Is that what you want me to do? To break the law in a way that you assholes will accept? What if I—”

“Joshua,” she raised her voice.

“What?!”

She was right in front of him then. Before he could move, her hand was on his forehead, right where he’d smacked it into Ryan’s nose, and she spoke, “Anger to flames.”

The room burst into fire.

Red, orange, and yellow; the waves gushed out from the space between her palm and his skin. Impossibly hot.

He took a half-step back in instinctual fear, but they remained. The flames poured from a blue ring in front of his forehead, almost like a halo. It quickly turned a familiar deep red. And the flames rolled over his neck, and clothes, and eyes, blinding him in flashes of light.

Through them, he caught flickers of her expression. She stood still amongst it all like a spectator. But the curls rolled over her skin, desk, and papers, bottles, books on shelves, glass—

None of it burned.

Jagged teeth stretched out through cracked windows and curled into the fresh Spring air.

He was about to say something when just as suddenly as it’d appeared, it stopped. All at once, the flames were gone and the world was left dimmer for it.

Kyle sagged and gasped for air. It felt at once like a giant weight had been lifted from his shoulders and his strings been cut. What was he even doing here?

Denner shifted. For a moment, she regarded him like an afterthought. But her voice was almost caring when she said, “Talk to me.”

She burned it out of me.

Without it, his voice was quiet. He was quiet. He stared at his feet like a lesser child and almost whispered, “I don’t want it to have been for nothing.”

He wasn’t one to cry. He hadn’t been, not even before. But without his anger, his body fell back on other emotions.

It didn’t help that his eyes were really fucking dry. Actually, that was probably the main issue now that he thought about it. He wiped at them and the problem was solved.

Like getting punched in the nose.

“It?”

“What … the things I did.” His voice was still hoarse. He swallowed past a dry lump. “I don’t want it to always be there, hovering around the back of my head. [Rogue] level three, a constant reminder.”

“Oh.”

He barked out a mirthless laugh. “Yeah.”

It was the same thing with [Woodcutter], to a lesser degree. If he leveled them, they would be worth something.

Denner took her time to respond, but when she did her voice was hard. “Kyle. Look at me.” He did—no point in sulking or avoiding it—and found an unrelenting expression. “What you’ve done, even without your Class, you will never forget. Trust me.”

Idly, he wondered if she had ever been a hoplite before. It was just his head trying to distract him again. They were the exact words he didn’t want to hear, because he knew they were true.

He looked away. A few steps next to him, the dented file box was the only thing damaged in the room.

She burnt it out of me and nothing was harmed for it. He scuffed his foot against the floor and mumbled, “Fancy trick, that.”

“What, the flames?”

A nod.

“Not as much as you might—”

“How— Oh, sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“No, no. Go on. What did you want to ask?”

“How come didn’t it burn anything, if you please? Mage fire?”

“Partially. You’re on Micah’s team so you might recognize the term, ‘essences’. But a lot of that was real flames.”

He frowned up at her.

“Nothing of mine will ever burn,” she explained with more than a bit of pride in her smile. “Not if I don’t want it to. Not really. It’s a perk of being a pyromancer. I have fantastic fire resistance.”

“Ah?”

That seemed handy. Did it expand to her spells, too? Because he knew some people had troubles managing their affinities with different spells …

He trailed off, defeated. What was he even thinking?

“Do you want me to teach you?”

“What, with my five mana?” he scoffed. “No, thanks.” It wasn’t like he would ever need that.

She sighed, but it didn’t sound like a response to his answer. After a moment, she asked, “Do you really have to be so fixated on leveling your [Rogue] Class?”

The comment irked him, despite her earlier words. Kyle knew he would never forget but that didn’t change anything about the fact that the Class was still there. And that he still felt that way, even if he knew better.

“Fixated?” he asked. “I’m not ‘fixated’, I’m starved. You’re giving me nothing to work with.”

“We’ve given you a roof, and food, and a free education. What has your Class given you? [Quick Feet] and [Lesser Weather Resistance]. What is that compared to what else you can do?”

“It’s still a hell of a lot better than some mundane [Fighter] Class every other climber my age has. Doesn’t this school want to explore options?”

She sighed and he sensed a gap there.

“It could be more, if I could level,” he pressed on, spreading his arms out. “I know I’m going to get a Skill from four. I can feel it. I’ve tried everything I can to get there. Avoiding group work—”

“You mean being unsocial?”

“—and my stupid roommates—”

“Rude.”

“—signing up for arena fights on my own so I can get away from those stupid team exercises—”

“Short-sighted.”

“—petty thievery—”

“I did not just hear that.”

“What? It’s just pamphlets, forgotten pens, and the occasional muffin or something from—”

“I didn’t hear it.”

He scowled, but it didn’t really matter. It wasn’t like he wanted to be a [Thief], like those rats from Anevos. He just needed something.

Kyle shook off the thought and tried to find his stride again. Where had he been? He raised his voice, “But apparently, that’s not enough. Not even for a freaking repetition level up.”

He tried not to stumble on the word. He’d heard others use it and had read books on the subject, ever since Lisa had laughed at him.

But Denner just rolled her eyes with a sigh and went back to lean against her desk, dismissing him without a response.

He took a single step after her. “If you would just reconsider and let me go into the Tower on my own—”

“No.”

“Or remove the stupid buddy system during the exam?”

“No. We’ve already slackened the rules far more than we should have. Besides—”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“Don’t you dare say I can climb all I want during summer break.”

She looked at him and said nothing.

Kyle waited for a moment, until the stare became too awkward, and asked, “What?”

“What? What do you expect me to say? You’ve tied my hands here.” She gestured helplessly.

He sneered in disgust. Of course, she would say that. Like a guitar with only one string.

“I’m sorry, Kyle. I cannot give a single student permission to go into the Tower on their own during the school year. No matter how much it might help them level. Especially not if they have other Classes.”

“What, [Woodcutter]?” he asked and almost laughed.

“You want to find the Fields during your next exam, don’t you?”

He did laugh.

She sounded annoyed, “Are you going to keep on insisting on the one thing I can’t offer, or will I have to use my Skill every few minutes to hold a conversation with you?”

Skill? What, the flames again? Kyle scowled. “I’m not—” He stopped. He was angry. Like hot bile at the back of his throat, but just a few moments ago, she had burnt it all out of him and now …

He looked to her in confusion.

She relaxed. “It’s a pruning, not an uprooting. I tried to tell you that, the spell isn’t all that great.”

He couldn’t help the question that came next, “Can you uproot it, though?” He took a step closer. “Take, uhm, all the anger away from someone else?”

If she could, she should be going around the cities and doing it every single person she found.

But her expression turned soft, almost pitying. “No, Kyle. That … those kinds of options exist, but they don’t tend to be healthy.”

Anger isn’t healthy.

“Unless you want to go hunting after the Red Fleece or something, at least.”

The comment caught him off-guard. “What?”

She shook her head with a small smile. “Nothing. Just rumors of new relics in the Tower.”

“Oh.”

She was retired and a school principal now and still looking into possible new relics? Freaking hoarder.

“From … the Shepherd?” he asked.

If it weren’t for Gale, he wouldn’t have been sure about that at all. Different Towers had different common patrons after all, and he knew of the ones from Ostfeld and Anevos better.

“Among others,” she said. “From murals, poems, treasure maps, and the likes. Why, would you be interested in hunting relics someday? This one was said to be somewhere in the Gardens.”

He considered for a moment and shrugged. “‘Gotta have dreams.”

The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them. Because Denner smiled.

Oh, no.

“Well put.” She straightened up and looked almost excited. “You do have to have dreams, aspirations. Could you please put your fixation on your [Rogue] Class aside for one moment?”

He glared at her.

“Because if you did, I could ask you what you want, Kyle. What is it that you want to do, even if you could climb freely? Is it to further your Path? To level? To become rich and famous?”

“Yeah, sure.” He shrugged and nodded. “Yes, yes, and absolutely.” He kept on nodding until slowly, he started shaking his head instead.

No.

He would never be famous. Infamous, maybe. And to be rich … He would probably only spend it on booze, food, and gear.

Leveling, yeah. That he could see. He wanted to be stronger, if only he could kick the teeth in of anyone who annoyed him. Like Ryan lately.

And his Path … He doubted he could further that at all. [Bloodline Path]. What had he been thinking back then?

He sighed.

Ameryth walked up and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “They’re questions every person needs to ask, sooner or later.”

“I don’t want to.”

“If you can say that out loud, maybe you should start acting like it.”

The accusation caught him off-guard and he immediately stepped back to scowl at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She wasn’t bothered. “What you’re doing now? You’re avoiding questions entirely. And yet, without a question, you insist your Class is the answer.

If you know you don’t have the answer, then act like it: make things easy for yourself, leave yourself options. Don’t force yourself down one path, keep as many of them open as you might need.”

He literally needed a moment to wrap his head around that one. She said he insisted on leveling [Rogue] without knowing why? And that was supposed to be a problem?

And her solution was …

“School,” he realized. For a moment, he’d thought she was actually trying to give him sound advice. Of course, she had an ulterior motive.

But she shook her head. “No, not necessarily. If you were being honest about having troubles earlier, you could repeat the year. If you feel like this isn’t for you, you could quit and come back.”

“What?”

“You would lose the deal you have right now, of course, but it might be worth it to gain some perspective.”

He felt like she was insulting him, vaguely, but that aside it sounded tempting. But … wait, weren’t those were his words? It was what he had been saying all along, why was she selling it to him?

“Okay, then I quit,” Kyle called her bluff. “I’ll go climbing all I want, stay in the Tower for a few weeks on end, maybe months, level [Rogue] and … I don’t why I would come back.”

She nodded with a smile. “Just out of curiosity, what can [Rogue] consolidate into?”

“What?”

“[Rogue]. It’s your favorite Class; you must have read up on it. Being a student here gives you nearly unrestricted access to the Registry. They have records, even on this. Have you used them?”

He shifted nervously. “A few times …”

She took it in stride—literally, as she walked around her desk. “Salbei, Thursday course, right? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe this should have been on your recent curriculum …”

He didn’t know what she was talking about.

She opened a drawer, pulled out a folder, and checked something. “Ah. Pop quiz: What can [Worker] consolidate into?”

That was easy enough. Even he had caught up on it. Not that he knew why she was asking.

“Uhm, everything?”

She held up a finger and corrected him, “Nearly everything. Now, what can [Fighter] consolidate into, do you think?”

Then he got it. He’d gotten all tense and unsure once she started talking about this school crap. He shouldn’t have.

He let his shoulders sag and gave her an unamused glare.

“Well?” she asked.

“Nearly everything?”

Again, that smile.

Know-it-all.

“Exactly. There’s a reason half the climbers your age have it. Even some [Mages] favor a few levels in the Class, with or without consolidation, because of how much it can help, physically. Everyone wants [Lesser Strength].”

“Bullshit. I haven’t gotten anything from it.” [Power Strike] and [Strong Grip] teased him with the promise of what could be.

“Your teammates have,” she commented. “And if I remember right, you didn’t receive a Skill from your most recent level up either, so that should mean …” She gave him a curious look.

He wasn’t stupid. “It means my next level has a higher chance—”

She grinned.

“But that’s just a chance!”

“So what of it? You’re young, Kyle. And your three Classes are so close together, it seems inevitable that they would consolidate into something tailored just to you—if you let them.”

She put the folder away, kicked the drawer shut, and walked back around.

“So what?” he asked. “I quit, I level [Fighter] instead, or all three of them, and then I come back? Would that make you happy?”

“It would but … one last question—” He groaned and she held her hands out in a placating manner. “One. I promise, I promise. Are you listening?”

He looked.

She smiled and spoke slowly, “If you’re open to the idea of leveling all your Classes, why would you need to leave?”

He opened his mouth to snap something back, hesitated, and frowned. He made a face and scowled at the ground. He felt like he had forgotten something, somewhere along the line.

“My head hurts.”

“Good.”

Kyle thought for a moment, but he was having troubles remembering what he had wanted when he came here. It was like he’d had all these good cards in his hand and she had taken them away, one by one …

Did he have any left?

His head actually began to hurt then. He wandered over near her desk and plopped himself down onto one of the two chairs that had been moved aside.

“Was there something else?” Denner asked him, sounding amused. “I’m quite busy here.”

He shrugged. He had nowhere else to be unless … Didn’t he have a class soon? Eh, he could skip it.

She was one of the few people he could stand to be around and he didn’t want to be around the others.

She sighed but pushed off to turn around and continue to work on something. “What even brought this outburst on?”

He had a hard time remembering, and then he suddenly remembered all at once. He scowled and sat up. “Payne. Fucking asshole.”

“Language.”

“What? He is.”

“He’s your teammate. What did he … What do you think he did?”

“He …” He trailed off, remembering it all now, and turned on her. “You.”

“Me?”

“You put a freaking level two on our team.”

“That was a committee decision and besides, she was one of the better options of the free-floating students.”

“Bullshit.”

“She’ll complement your abilities greatly. So, let me guess, you fought over her presence?”

“I wanted to go complain to the staff, but Ryan didn’t. He probably thinks that just because he’s so used to lying down and taking it, that we—”

She turned to look at him, eyebrows up.

Kyle shut up.

Things done in anger … She really should have just taken it all. His ears felt hot. He was supposed to be better than this, but it was so hard, and hard enough to find a reason to care.

So what if he was rude to people? Fuck them. But this time, he felt like he was right to be mad.

Because you screwed up. Like you always do.

Kyle knew what people were like when they were angry. He was pretty sure he had never screwed up around Ryan. Or at least, not often enough. The rest … maybe. But not that.

He’d lost a lot of respect for the guy.

“You know,” Denner mused, “now that you’re here, there is one thing I would like to mention.”

“Huh?”

“You see, the Registry is celebrating its birthday soon …” she started and trailed off.

He laughed. He couldn’t help it. “What?! Are you insane? There’s no way you would want me at that stupid party of yours.”

“We would have to get you cleaned up, of course,” she said, “cut your hair, dress you up, wash your mouth out with soap a few times … get rid of the glove.”

He had been laughing along with her stupid idea until the last comment. His smile fell and he said, “No.”

“I’m just saying—”

He got up and shook his head, “I should have known. Of course, you have another reason behind all of this. So what? I’m just another curio you picked up alongside the road to show off?”

“No. Of course, not.”

“Fuck this.” He turned.

She sighed and sounded tired when she spoke, “Of course, I had an ulterior reason for inviting you to my school. But it wasn’t the only reason.” She had to raise her voice as he approached the door. “And it wasn’t a reason against you. Unless of course, you think so?”

He stopped. Her voice suddenly sounded far more threatening than it had any right to be.

“Do you?” She sounded vaguely worried, but he didn’t know if she was being honest or not.

His heart raced. Was her question a threat?

“No.” He shook his head and turned to her. He needed to see her face to be sure he had convinced her. “No, of course not. I’m a good little patriot.”

There was none of the suspicion he had gotten used to from others in her eyes. Had she just been playing on his fears? Had it all been in his head? He didn’t like how he wasn’t sure.

“Good,” she said. “Then—”

“But I’m still not going to your stupid party,” he blurted out. “Not … not when there are others who would see. And not— I wouldn’t fit in.”

She seemed bemused. “Why not? I’m told teenagers near Ostfeld are expected to learn how to dance for their festivals. Tradition and whatnot.”

He scoffed, “‘You really think any of the girls from my village would dance with me? They were more likely to throw rocks. Their parents, too.”

For a moment, she lost her smile and hesitated, even seemed awkward, before she said, “I’m sorry.”

She sounded honest. “Don’t be.”

“If you change your mind, my door is …” She trailed off for a second as if she had just remembered something. Then her expression turned hard. “Right. Kyle, if you barge into my office like that again, there will be consequences.”

He hesitated.

“I could have been having a meeting with the staff, or an investor, or another student for all you know. How would you have felt if someone had barged into our conversation just now?”

Was she … was she being serious?

“Well?”

“Uhm … pissed off?”

She leaned in. “Do it again and running laps around the Tower or copying down the school rules will be the least of your worries. I will personally make sure you are assigned to the lowest floor of whatever exam you take part in. That includes your next exam if your behavior keeps up. Am I understood?”

He hesitated again.

“Am I—”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He really would have to quit school if she did that, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to yet.

What would she even do? Assign his whole team to a lower floor or … remove him and put him in another one? He didn’t want to find out.

She sighed and waved at the door. “Go. Come back if you change your mind. And do well on your exam.”

“Of course, I will,” he said.

“And go to your teachers if you’re struggling!”

He didn’t say anything to that, but did hesitate again at the door until she gave him another look that assured him he was allowed to leave.

The secretary gave him the stink eye on his way out. He considered apologizing, then thought better of it. He just rushed out into the hallway and was happy to get away from there.

Even if he did level his other Classes, which he wasn’t sure he would, he wouldn’t give up on the third. This next exam was his best bet at doing that. Of course, I will, he’d told her.

Get a good grade and level … how was he supposed to do both? He’d have to find some way of wrangling this group of assholes he’d tied himself to, wouldn’t he?

Damnit.