Aether’s Blessing (Aether’s Revival Book 1)
Aether’s Blessing: Chapter 13

The carriage came to a stop just inside the gates. Bishop got out, with Gregory close behind her. The driver was quick to hand down their bags, not wanting to delay them.

Gregory blinked at the large building just inside the gate that abutted the wall. Five stories tall, it was one of the tallest he had ever seen.

“Come on, Novice,” Bishop said, shouldering her bags and already moving toward the building.

Gregory quickly picked up his bag and hurried after her, forcing his mouth shut. When he entered the building, he managed to not gape, but his eyes were still wide. The interior was all white marble with streaks of black and red. A number of small dark wood tables dotted the room, with cushions next to them. Decorative screens and potted plants helped break up the room, so it was not a massive cavern.

Gregory just managed to keep from bumping into Bishop when she stopped in front of a desk. The tall redhead sitting there turned to address Bishop first. “Proctor Bishop, you brought us one? First one in three years.”

“John Hardin? I’m surprised you’re still in this position,” Bishop replied. “I wish it was more, but no one knows what Aether plans.”

“I can’t refute that,” Hardin chuckled as he started to pull papers out of the desk. “Fill out the forms. You know the drill.”

“Thank you,” Bishop bowed her head, accepting the stack.

Gregory sat at one of the low tables with Bishop while she filled out the forms. His attention was drawn to the double doors when they opened again, revealing another proctor with a novice. The novice was slender, with pale skin and long platinum blonde hair flowing down her back. She glanced at Gregory with startlingly blue eyes, looking away when he smiled.

“Ah, Proctor Harrison. Unlike some others, you always bring us at least one novice every year,” Hardin said in greeting.

“Some of us haven’t been banished to the worst of the fringe,” Harrison’s voice carried a rough edge.

“Some haven’t kissed enough polished asses to be rewarded with a more cushioned post, either,” Bishop said as she filled out the next form. “I wonder when some proctors last had to defend their novices from anything more than salty soup?”

“Bishop,” Harrison spat the name as he turned to sneer at her, “I didn’t see you there. It must be your lack of standing, in all ways.”

Bishop shook her head as she capped the ink and cleaned the pen nib. “Some of us aren’t so lacking in motivation that we wish to be carried on the soft cushions of fat clans. When was the last time you even had to draw your blade, Harrison?”

“Three years ago, when some bitch made me challenge her,” Harrison growled. “I’ve grown since then. Have you?”

“You could easily replace out,” Bishop said, rising to her feet fluidly and striding toward the desk Hardin occupied, “but I doubt you’ll risk losing face to your clan again.”

“At least my clan isn’t a shell, forgotten and wasting away. Does your clan head even still draw breath? No one has seen him in twenty years.”

Bishop did not reply, instead handing the papers to Hardin. “The forms. I shall take him to the Blade now.”

“Protocol has changed since you last brought a novice,” Hardin said stiffly. “You are to wait for a master to come for you and the novice.”

Bishop’s expression was bored as she received the new information. “So be it.”

“If you will fill out these forms,” Hardin told the other proctor, “I shall call for the master so both of your novices can go together.”

With an annoyed grunt, the other proctor snatched the papers, ink, and pen from Hardin, then stalked off to one of the tables. The novice with him scurried after him, clearly uncomfortable. Bishop did not bother to watch them, but returned to the table she had been at moments ago. Gregory followed her, casting another glance at the other novice.

“Proctor,” Gregory said softly to not disturb the others, “you fought him three years ago?”

“Challenges of honor are a common event inside these walls. Three years ago, he challenged me. I won, and he lost standing with his clan and for his clan.”

“What about your clan, Proctor?”

“As Harrison said, my clan is a shell of what it was in years past. We’ve lost most of our standing, wealth, and more in challenges to other clans.”

“You don’t seem upset about it.”

“I’m sad, but I can’t change the past. No one can. I will do what I can for my clan, as anyone should. I hope one day that it will rise in prominence again, but at this point, it will likely fade into obscurity. As the youngest of my clan, I will probably be the last of it.”

“And good riddance,” Harrison said loudly as he went back to the desk.

Bishop’s eye twitched, “Some people don’t know when to be civil. It’s like having a wild hound nearby— it howls and barks as if it’s the biggest beast in the world, but turns tail and runs when a bigger threat comes near.”

Harrison spun on her, the forms dropping onto the desk, forgotten. “Who is the dog? You don’t bother to even defend your clan. You’re like a beaten cur that whimpers when someone passes by, never fighting for yourself.”

“If you are confident, you may challenge me,” Bishop said, her back still turned to him. “I will ignore those who aren’t worth my attention.”

“Bitch!” Harrison hissed. “I challenge you, then! Do you dare back up your barking?”

Gregory saw the smile that flitted across Bishop’s face before it vanished. “I accept. Terms are as follows: swords only, no aether. The reward shall be the year’s stipend. Do you still wish to press your challenge?”

Harrison’s hand tightened on the hilt of his sword, his nostrils flaring as he breathed hard. “Accepted.”

“Tomorrow. The arena, at high sun,” Bishop said nonchalantly, as if the whole thing was beneath her notice. “I’ll arrange a suitable adjudicator.”

“Fine.”

A door opening cut off any further conversation as a man in cobalt robes entered the room. He paused for a moment, taking in the atmosphere before sighing. “Proctors, did you arrange a challenge, again?”

“I was challenged, Master,” Bishop said. “All I was doing was waiting for you to arrive.”

“Lying bi—”

“Proctor,” the master said sharply, cutting him off, “there is a young lady present. Restrain your phrasing.”

“Bishop misrepresents, Master, but yes, we have agreed on a challenge for tomorrow.”

“If you would be so kind as to adjudicate for us, Master Damon?” Bishop asked, rising gracefully from her seated position and bowing, her right fist cupped by her left palm at chest height.

With another sigh, Damon shook his head. “I hadn’t even thought you might bring a novice this year, Bishop, yet now I have a challenge to oversee in addition to my other duties. Tomorrow at high sun. Now, put aside the differences you both have. Your novices need to be seen to.”

“As you say,” Bishop bowed again.

Harrison gritted his teeth, not saying anything as he bowed to the master.

Damon wore a small smile as he looked at the two novices. “Welcome to the academy, Novices. You have years of learning and growth ahead of you. During your years, you will befriend some, while making enemies,” he paused to glance at the two proctors, “of others. Your old life is behind you. All that stands before you is your service to the empire and the joy of Aether.”

Gregory got to his feet hurriedly and bowed like Bishop had. “Thank you, Master.”

The other novice was quick to copy him. Her voice shook with timidity when she said, “Thank you, Master.”

“Good, you are on the right foot. You will have a week before classes begin, but today is a joyous day, as we will see what your magic is. Follow me.” Damon started for a door to the side of the room, his slippered feet not making a sound as he walked.

Gregory was quick to follow him. The other novice fell into step with him and the two proctors trailed them. The trip through the building took a few minutes, and involved going down a couple flights of stairs.

The sub-basement had a dozen iron doors, and two emerald-robed magi stood next to the largest at the end of the hall. Master Damon headed straight for them, and when they got close one of the two opened the door. The magi stood aside and bowed as Master Damon went through, followed closely by the novices and proctors.

Gregory’s steps slowed as he entered the room. Jutting from the stone floor was a naginata, the blade sunk almost completely into one of the stone tiles. Dozens of different jewels were embedded into the silver bands near the head and endcap of the naginata. The blade and shaft were the blackest metal Gregory had ever seen, drinking in the light from the dozen lanterns that ringed the room.

“Aether’s Blade,” Bishop whispered reverently.

“Novices, remove your footwear and step forward to the line,” Damon instructed.

Gregory blinked, pulling his eyes from the naginata. On the floor, a three-inch-wide slab of the same black metal was embedded in the floor, encircling the weapon. Quickly removing his boots, he stepped forward until his feet touched the line of metal. A shock of cold rushed into his body and made him shiver. Beside him, the other novice also shivered when she stepped on it.

“I want each of you to reach out and grasp the shaft of the naginata, one at a time,” Damon commanded. “The gems will tell us your magic.’

Gregory glanced at the other novice, who seemed afraid of doing as instructed. Taking a deep breath and reaching out, his hand wrapped around the shaft. His aether spluttered, dying down to the dimmest of banked coals, and his legs sagged. A wave of cold energy rushed up through his feet and into his body. When it reached his aether, the flame inside him roared to life, forcing his legs to straighten, then it rushed out through the hand touching the naginata.

The room was silent until the largest gem on the very end of the naginata began to pulse faintly with light. To Gregory, that moment seemed to take years. He watched as the gem began to glow, then brighten until it was almost blinding. Finally, after what felt like more long years, the gem’s glow dimmed once more.

The three magi in the room eyed the gem with confusion. Damon spoke slowly, “I’ve never seen the ryuite glow, nor any gem glow that brightly. I need to see if it’s recorded.” As the last of the glow faded, Damon cleared his throat and spoke in a normal tone, “Novice, release the shaft and step back.”

The moment his hand no longer touched the naginata, his aether returned to the small flame it had been. Staggering back a step, Gregory panted, feeling like he had just run for hours. He knelt on the floor, waiting for his strength to return to him.

The other novice was all but hyperventilating, but she reached out and grasped the weapon. The single black jade embedded in one of the silver bands of the naginata began to flicker. A soft glow grew in intensity inside the gem for a few seconds.

“A shadow,” Damon whispered. “We haven’t had a new shadow in a dozen years. Today is a momentous day, even considering her eurtik blood.” Clearing his throat, he spoke in a normal tone, “Release the naginata and put your boots on, both of you.”

When she released the weapon, the novice stepped back and stumbled. Gregory lunged over and caught her, setting her onto the floor gently. “You okay?”

“Dizzy… sorry. Thank you,” she whispered.

“Release her,” Harrison snapped.

Gregory gave her an apologetic smile and moved away. He pulled his boots back on, and was relieved to see her doing the same a moment later.

“Proctor, your novice will be sought after by many clans,” Damon told Harrison. “I’m sure whoever she joins will be pleased with you, despite her heritage.”

“Thank you, Master,” Harrison smiled, bowing to the older man.

“Proctor, your novice strongly sparked the ryuite. Keep a close eye on him. What it means for his magic is unknown.”

Bishop stared at Gregory for a long moment, her face blank. “I shall do as you say, Master.”

“Come, the testing is over,” Damon said, clearly eager to leave the room.

Gregory and the other novice pushed themselves to their feet and shuffled after Damon, both proctors following them. The door shut with a respectful snick when the guards closed it behind them and resumed their places before it.

Leading them back to the main floor, Damon bowed his head fractionally to the proctors. “See your novices to the dormitory and give them the information they require.”

“Yes, Master,” Bishop and Harrison said together, bowing to him.

“Novices, welcome to the academy. I shall pray to Aether for your success. Next week, your instruction begins.”

“Thank you, Master,” they said in unison, both of them bowing deeply.

Once Damon was gone, Harrison sneered at Bishop and Gregory. “I’m sure the ryuite is nothing of importance, Bishop. Don’t think you’ve done something worthy of note. I’ll be looking forward to tomorrow. Come, Novice. Keep up.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied softly, rushing after him.

Gregory watched him go and exhaled the anger he felt. “Has he always been so… unpleasant, Proctor?”

Bishop’s lips twitched, “Harrison is who he is. Come now, Novice, I must see you settled, and then I can answer some of your questions about what your time will entail.”