Chapter 27
Honor among High Elves revolves around their perception of beauty. The longer the ear, the wiser the speaker. The lighter the hair, the closer to divinity. The brighter a natural hair color, the more revered the individual. Albino High Elves, once thought prophets, are now pop icons. Because of this, dyeing hair is heretical among many High Elf houses.
Day 166, Castesday
Two days later, the baggy was still at the forefront of my mind. I had hidden it in a roll of socks in my locker. I was trying to focus on my magic class, but my mind kept drifting. That didn’t change until I got those strange results.
It didn’t help that all my courses, save a select few on magic, were run by Thallos. I dreaded them because of how brutal they were. He crossed mundane topics like mathematics with brutal physical training. I’d like to see you puzzle out the quadratic formula while trying to keep your head from being caved in.
At that moment, I was in a reasonably safe magic course. Master Mystagogue Neckar was a non-entity after her outburst. The instructors were a pair of High Elf twins, Lucas and Patrisha Zenwel. Their platinum-blond hair marked their high station. They looked so alike I couldn’t tell them apart at times. They both dressed in pristine white robes that seemed to glow. Old-style theater masks covered half their faces. Lucas’s, on the right, bore a comical grin. Patrisha’s, on the left, a mournful frown. The masks were the only way I could tell them apart.
They worked flawlessly together, finishing each other’s sentences. One was a Sorcerer, the other a Wizard, or so they claimed.
The two circled me as I stood in the center of the same library. “Tell us, young one—” came Lucas.
“—how is myst organized?” finished Patrisha.
“The Elements,” I answered simply.
“Correct,” Patrisha begrudgingly complimented. I had decimated every question they’d thrown at me for the past half hour.
“What are the two—” jabbed Patrisha.
“—organization types?” barbed Lucas.
“The four Core Elements, the Compound Elements, and the Six Dualities: Choice, Creation, The Cycle, The Dichotomy, Progress, and Synergy. Do I need to break them down?”
“We know that—” started Lucas.
“—you have a firm grasp, but—” continued Patrisha.
“—can you tell us how someone’s talent is measured?” finished Lucas.
“Elemental control capacity is referred to as Affinity,” I answered blandly.
“Good,” they said in tandem. Patrisha closed in. “Tell us—” Lucas started.
“—have you had your Affinity levels tested yet?” she finished.
I shook my head. In a breath, she snatched my hand, slit my thumb with a penknife, and pressed it to a print scanner she produced from her robes.
“Ouch!” I hissed, trying to pull free, but her grip was like an adamantine vice. A message popped into my HUD. A download bar filled. A bar graph of Elemental Affinity levels took up my view. I was astounded and confused.
Earth: 10, Air: 16, Water: 10, Fire: 26, Fate: 0, Chaos: 08, Synthesis: 0, Ruin: 26, Life: 0, Death: 28, Lumina: 0, Umbra: 30, Stasis: 0, Morphic: 26, Resonance: 0, Distortion: 24.
“Interesting,” pondered Lucas.
“Fascinating,” gushed Patrisha.
“What? What’s so fascinating?” I asked.
“Your scores,” Lucas explained.
“The chart is supposed to range from one to thirty,” Patrisha mumbled. “The average for practitioners is between six and fifteen.”
“And there are very few affinities that score above twenty,” Lucas added.
“You are an oddity in several regards,” Patrisha muttered.
The chart returned. The readings for Fire, Ruin, Death, Umbra, Morphic, and Distortion were lit purple. “You have six elements scoring above twenty, one an extraordinary thirty,” Lucas continued.
“Yet, your positively aligned scores are nonexistent, with flat zeros,” Patrisha followed.
“Having low positive scores isn’t unheard of, but—”
“—the reality of your scores is unprecedented.”
“You should be dead, child.”
“Dead? Is it really that bad?”
“Bad? No,” Lucas corrected. “More of a curiosity. Normally, all casters have at least a minute affinity for positive elements. With no Life affinity, you should be dead. But unless you are a Blightling, you are a puzzle.”
“A perplexing quandary,” Patrisha accounted.
“Wait,” I said, looking at the chart. “So I can’t use Life, Fate, and the like, correct?”
“More than that. With zero Fate, can scrying find you? How do you fit into the Fate tapestry?” Lucas said, absorbed.
Patrisha turned a scrutinizing gaze on me. “With a Lumina score of zero, can you not be blessed or enhanced?”
Lucas’s head popped up. “What about Synthesis? Can he not have children? Or Resonance? His heart rate and neural processing should be inconsistent.”
“I don’t even know where to begin,” replied his sister.
“I’ve never had issues with magic,” I said. “But my negative scores are high. That means I should be able to use them with little effort, correct?”
They both looked at me. “Not quite,” Patrisha started.
Lucas held up a hand. “The higher the affinity,” he clenched his hand, “the stronger your control.”
Patrisha held up two fingers. “If two casters tried to control the same stone, control would fall to the one with higher affinity, even if the other is a higher Mage Circle.”
I rubbed my chin. “Got it. So with my score of thirty in Umbra, no one could overpower my control over cursing?”
Patrisha wobbled her head. “There is a way, but it would be very difficult. They would have to expend Vells by a factor multiplied by your difference in affinity.”
“If someone with an AS of twenty-nine tried to wrestle control, they would spend two Vells for every one you spent,” Lucas continued.
“The shadow?” I asked. “I thought Umbra was only for curses.”
They both looked at me like I had spat out an opossum. “Fragment’s grace, no,” Patrisha admonished.
“With lower affinity, one can only use them for minor boons or hexes,” Lucas said. “But with enough power, you could forge a weapon of pure light or shadow.”
“Or with Air Myst, you could Shadow Step, teleporting from one shadow to another,” Patrisha explained. “The same with Lumina and Air, as Flash Step.”
That sounded useful. I decided then and there to work on both. But first, I needed to learn to draw upon my Mystwell.
“This all sounds awesome,” I said, “but why is my Chaos score so poor?”
They both shrugged. “You can’t have astounding talent in all elements,” Lucas stated.
“You’re always going to have a few weak ones,” Patrisha pointed out. “Just because your type of Mage gives you access to all negative alignments doesn’t mean you’ll have equal talent in all of them.”
“Regardless, we can discuss this later. You are late for your next course.”
“Dreck!” I cursed. I spun and sprinted from the room, out of Aegis Hall. Thallos was going to have my hide.
I met him at the edge of the woods. He looked irked, chewing on an electric-blue oak leaf. “Three minutes late, boy,” he growled.
“Sorry, sir,” I huffed. “My new instructors kept me late. My affinity scores were odd.”
“Odd?”
I flicked him the file. He read it over, looking less than impressed. He tossed the file into his therra’s digital trash. “I’ll grant your ASs are odd, but not enough to be held late.” His tone was cold as the grave.
“But the Mystagogues said I should be dead.”
“But you’re not dead now, are you,” he said, marching deeper into the woods. “If you aren’t dead, you should be training. Now follow.”
I skipped to keep pace. “Um, Uncle? Did something happen to sour your mood?”
“I have been told to escalate your training even more than planned.”
“Isn’t that dangerous? I thought you and the Mysteriarch said you would minimize the threat.”
“Kaydammin had nothing to do with this. This was an order from my direct supervisor.”
The Mysteriarch wasn’t his supervisor? Then who? And why escalate my training? I had so many questions.
We reached our destination before I could think of a way to ask. He had led me to the clearing where Nel and I sometimes ate. We weren’t alone. Sitting under a tree was a familiar mint-green-skinned Gnome in trainee healer robes.
“Tessa? What are you doing here?”
“She’s here to help with your training. I wasn’t planning on calling on her for months, but plans changed,” Thallos explained as she stood and dusted herself off.
“But doesn’t she have classes?”
“She is receiving special training by taking part in yours. Her only current classes are in healing.”
This time, Tessa answered. “Gnomes have the option of a different curriculum. I only take one type of class at a time. Currently, I’m only taking healing.” She looked nervous, fidgeting.
“Is something wrong, Tessa?” I asked, half-holding out a hand in support.
“No, no,” she muttered. “I’m just nervous about the training and… other things.”
Before I could ask, Thallos commanded, “Just get it out of the way, trainee. Tell him how old you are.”
What did her age have to do with anything? “I’ll only tell you if you promise not to treat me any different,” she said softly.
I shrugged. “I’m not sure what the big deal is. I know Gnomes can live crazy long lives. Are you a thousand?” She shook her head. “The opposite? Three?”
“No,” she murmured, hiding an amused smile.
“Well then, I don’t see an issue. Getting upset about your age is like getting ticked off at an Elf for maturing slower. It’s pointless.”
“Just tell him, girl,” Thallos interjected.
She squeaked and blurted, “I’m seventy!” then cringed.
I shrugged again. “Cool. You’re seventy, but in my book, you’re a teen just the same. So why do I need a healer?”
He looked at me with a mildly amused smirk that still felt cold. When he finally spoke, the smile fell. “Before I answer, I need you to swear not to tell anyone about this training.”
“Okay? You already have me hiding that I’m a Dark Hunter. What’s the difference?”
“You aren’t a Dark Hunter yet, boy,” he snapped. “This vow is to protect your friends. What I’m about to put you through is reserved for elites. Should anyone learn how I’m training you, solutions will be made… brief and to the point.”
I gave an audible gulp. I wanted Rose and the others to stay breathing and whole.
“Do you swear?” he demanded.
“Y-yes, sir,” I stammered.
He spun away. “Good. Now, ready yourself, boy. We are escalating your training to advanced pain endurance,” I heard a blade leave its sheath, “and working under pressure.”
I stared in disbelief as he turned and lunged, shortsword held to impale me. I moved to throw myself aside, but he was too fast. Pressure against my chest, skin parting, tissue splitting, bone snapping, followed by a burst of pain. I tried to gasp, but one lung refused to work. I looked down to find his shortsword skewering me up to the hilt. I coughed, a gout of blood passing my lips. My legs went watery as he pulled the blade free. I fell, curling around the agony as the world faded to black.
In the distance, I heard Thallos speaking. “Now it’s time for your training, girl. Heal him quick before he dies. But be sure to leave a scar. For every wound I give him, I want a scar when you’re done.”
