Chapter 29
Which sapient species are classified as Sophic is a matter of great debate. The indisputable ones are Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Ceangar, and Gnomes—the ‘hairless apes.’ But dozens more species try to claim the title. The Vhenari earned a place when they earned their freedom on the continent of Kasis. But other species’ right to civility can vary from nation to nation. Some of these are the Dracose, the Anarians, the Kassivar, and the Aquarians. To be considered Sophic is to be given even the minimum of respect. Those without it are often treated like animals.
Day 200, Quenchenday
“Nice getup,” teased Nel as we collected our food.
I was dressed in excessively baggy forest-green cargo pants, a black T-shirt emblazoned with a mechanical heart under a worn leather jacket, my tactical gauntlet, and sneakers. “Har, har. These are just what Thallos gave me. Shirts, shoes, and cargo pants. Lots of them.”
“Why cargo pants? Does he have a fetish?” she asked as we made our way to our corner table.
“Hell if I know. He always says they’re a must-have.”
“For what? The pockets?”
I shrugged. “It’s the only thing I could think of.” As we reached the table, I set down my tray and began whipping things out of my pockets: a fist of gears, a case of springs, three feet of cable, a coil of solder and matching iron, a coil of mythril, five raw quartz micro-boards, and a fistful of Shard-sized myst crystals.
“Damn, dude! What’s with all this? Are you planning on whipping together an airship this afternoon?” Nel teased.
I shot her a raised brow. “You underestimate me, dearest Nennel. I could quite easily whip together a weapon of lethal force from these.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“I could cobble together a simple concussion bomb. I’d need more for a timer, but I could set it with a dead-man switch with what I have.”
“So you’re going to be a suicide bomber?”
“What in the hells is wrong with you, girl?! I was thinking of a booby trap! But if you really want to know, I was hoping to get some tinkering done today. Speaking of, where are the other two?”
Nel slid into her seat and took a spoonful of something gray and lumpy. She answered around a mouthful. “Ferris has make-up work. Something about a failed history project. He should be free by lunch, or so he claims.”
“Got it,” I answered, trying to puzzle out what my meal was. I stabbed something purple and squishy with my fork. It was a tentacle. It didn’t smell bad, but it definitely didn’t smell like seafood. “And what about Rose? I haven’t seen her for a good bit.”
“We’ve seen her around. She seems fine, but whenever you get brought up, she gets… weird.”
“Weird how?” I pressed, trying not to seem too eager.
“Oh, she gets dodgy and tries to change the subject. Speaking of, how is your training?”
I reflexively clenched my teeth. “It’s been… rough. I’m managing, but Thallos is really putting me through the wringer.”
“Really? What kind of training?”
I tried to think of a quick, reasonable answer. “Most of it is him asking questions while I do physical training. When I get an answer wrong, he smacks me with a riding crop.”
Nel visibly winced. The answer wasn’t even a lie; that was my training until Thallos said his higher-ups wanted things sped up.
“Yowza! That sounds strict,” Nel said in sympathy.
“Oh, you have no idea. I’ve had almost no time to tinker. It’s been rough—” I was cut short by the sight of a black Tiger Vhenari with copper hair leaving the hall. I shot to my feet. “Give me a few!” I shouted over my shoulder to Nel. “I just spotted Rose and need to talk!”
I wove between tables, pushing through the double doors to spot her not fifteen yards from me. I put on a burst of speed. “Rose! Rose! What’s up! I want to talk!”
I saw her flinch. Her shoulders bunched, her head lowered. I caught up to her just behind Aegis Hall. She stopped and turned, a timid smile on her face. “Oh. Hey, Iver. It’s been a while.” She was half-turned, clutching her arm, not meeting my eyes.
Something was up. “So, I know I haven’t seen you in a bit. Thallos has been beating me into the ground. But I wanted to thank you for talking to him about that packet. You have no idea how relieved I am. It turns out the stuff was MyCast. Master Neckar has a condition that requires it.”
“That—that’s good to hear. I’m happy I could help. H-how have things been?” she fidgeted, drawing circles in the dirt with her foot.
Stammering, fidgeting, not meeting my eyes, closed body posture. She wanted to say something but was scared to.
“Well, training has been rough, but there was something else I wanted to talk about,” I started.
Her eyes flitted to mine again. “Yeah, what’s that?”
I took a deep breath, locking my eyes on my shoes. “Well, ever since you saved my ass, I’ve always looked up to you. You took the time to help me train, which means a lot. You’re an awesome friend I feel I can trust with anything.” I clenched my fists. “But I was hoping maybe we could… be more than friends.” My anxiety spiked. Pain grew in my chest. My eyes twitched, searching for something to lock on to.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Rose snarled.
“What?” I looked up into a fire hot enough to burn me.
“You don’t get it, do you, Iver? I don’t like you that way,” she hissed. “You took from me the open position I spent the past two years trying to get.”
“What?” was all I could manage as my reality cracked.
“Yes, you twit-fucker! Thallos has been my hero since I was a kid. Since my father died. Thallos was the one who told us what happened. He was my hero, and I swore I was going to become his apprentice. But you took that from me.”
“What?” I uttered as my cracked reality splintered.
“Yes! Thallos only ever takes one apprentice, and you,” she pointed an accusing finger, “took that because of some fluke of nature. I’m the better fighter. I earned my Mastlok training. But because you happen to have some random magic talent, you get the position. Why else do you think I talked to him? I wanted him to find out about the drugs and for you to get the boot so I could take your spot.” Every word was vehement venom.
My splintered reality shattered completely. She never loved me. She hated me. She wanted to be the one getting stabbed. She wanted it so badly she tried to have me kicked from the academy.
Tears streamed down my face. My legs went numb. I squeezed my eyes shut. “I’m sorry,” my voice was shockingly calm. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have agreed. I’ll tell Thallos I’m stepping down and that he should take you.”
She threw her fists down. “DON’T LIE TO ME!” she howled. The air around us dropped to sub-zero. The grass froze, sprouting spiked barbs of ice in a perfect circle with her at the center. My tears froze mid-path. I looked up at her in shock. She looked down, her own face written in shock. Without another word, she turned and fled. I moved to follow but fell flat, my feet frozen to the ground.
Rose had magic? Had she been hiding it? No way. Why would she get upset about me having magic if she did?
I was so in shock I hadn’t noticed my face was covered in minuscule gashes, my shirt filled with holes, my hands slashed to ribbons.
I crawled to my feet and thrashed against my restraints, but the ice held. I was forced to activate the blowtorch I had added to my gauntlet. At that moment, I was emotionally numb. The wound was so fresh I was still processing.
As I staggered back into the DFAC, my feet and mind numb, my face and hands bloody, I slogged to my corner. I fell into my seat and stared at my tray.
“Whoa, dude. What happened?” came Nel’s voice. “You look like she took her claws to your face. Did you insult her dead father?” she jested.
I had to tell her. But I had no words. Instead of words, a fierce torrent of emotion rose up.
“Is that ice in your hair?” Nel asked, pointing. That was enough. It started low, then grew into a weeping wail, a keening banshee’s cry. Nel leaned back, her face a mask of concern and horror.
The tone broke into a choking sob. I lowered my head in shame as I broke down. I heard a chair pull from the table. I looked up to find Ferris flipping it around to sit backward. He asked Nel what was wrong. I couldn’t hear her response, but I could tell by her shrug she had no idea. This lack of understanding sent me into an irrational rage.
I flung the tray aside, gripped my horns, and yanked as I wailed. This brought the thought of Rose to the forefront. The emotional pain was unbearable, like the gaping hole my father’s death left, only fresher. Thoughts of my father and how I failed him battered my mind, mixing with Rose’s betrayal.
Stabbed. The word clung to me. I latched onto it as an escape. Anything to escape this pain. Even getting stabbed by Thallos would have felt better. It was familiar. I needed physical pain. I threw my head into the table, again and again. THWAP! There it was, accompanied by stars. And I was right. Physical pain felt better.
I got two more good blows in before I was pinned by two sets of hands. I fought for a moment, then gave up and curled in on myself, body quaking with sobs. I lost touch with reality, dimly aware of something large picking me up and carrying me off.
When I calmed down, I uncurled my stiff limbs. I knew exactly where I was from the chemically clean smell. I sat up to find myself in the medical center, on a bed, Dr. Brooksheen standing over me. It was obvious she had used Resonance Myst to calm me. I wiped my face. Nel and Ferris stood in a corner, looking concerned. Mystagogue Thrasher was trying to squeeze himself into the guest chair. He gave up and squatted on his haunches.
“Young Mister Maverick…” Thrasher started. “Iver,” he corrected. “What happened?”
“I-I…” I stammered. The doctor rested a calming hand on my shoulder. “Go ahead,” she said softly.
I took a long breath and explained in as few words as possible.
“So let me get this straight,” came Nel. “You asked her out, then she flipped out, released wild magic, and that was enough for you to lose your mind and try to crack your skull?”
“Well, it sounds dacker when you say it like that,” I snipped.
“Ive, it was totally insane. You lost your head over a turndown. It happens to everyone.”
“And what about Thallos and the packet?!” I pointed out harshly.
Ferris wobbled his head. “I’ll give you that was a rotten move and grounds to deck her, which I really wouldn’t recommend. But not a reason to go total Thrope on yourself.”
Thrasher set a hand on my shoulder. “What about your training with Mystagogue Thallos? I understand it’s… a great deal of pressure.”
I nodded slowly. “I guess it’s been stressful. But would that really contribute to this?”
Thrasher gave me a look that said I should know the answer. “I’m sure you’ve heard about his previous trainees.”
“How they became successful?”
“Those who didn’t pass,” he hinted. I still didn’t get it. “He’s had students have complete mental breaks, to the point of madness. We’ve looked into his methods. They are, while not textbook, within limits.”
A lightbulb went on. I had heard about his student who went mad and killed others. Thrasher, Thallos, and the Mysteriarch had talked about it. How had I forgotten?
“I think it best you take a week off,” recommended the doctor. “And maybe look into an emotional venting and coping mechanism for times of stress.”
