Arc 8-86
Being lifted to the suspended rock in the sky brings a wave of nostalgia. The Grand Hall is a legendary place for the people of Harvest. There are boys and girls pulling weeds in their family’s farm or sweating as apprentices that would give an arm to take one step into the magical school. To the unfortunate, the Hall is a gateway to a better life. They imagine themselves as the Harvest Hero, a man of common birth that fought to beco an icon that has inspired generations. They think it can transform them into sothing great and glorious, so they hunger for it.
I was never fascinated with the Hall, not like others. Not even the way Father was, though his experience made respect it and the opportunities it represented. I arrived at the school in a sort of daze, choosing it as I couldn’t think of a better path. Kierra’s interest was the biggest motivator. She wanted to and I could, so why not? It’s not a chance I would throw away, though I didn’t expect anything from it.
It was much better than I expected. I learned more than I thought. I t people. Growing up in a small village, I saw the sa faces, day after day, year after year. The occasional travelers that ca through on their way to the capital only stayed a night; not nearly long enough to forge a real relationship of any kind, if they found a reason to take an interest in a noble girl sneaking out from her estate for a drink. Coupled with the oppression of the Grimoires, I’d never had a chance to…connect.
The Hall changed that. There’s Alana, of course, my shining love. But there’s also the interesting figures I t along the way. New friends from the Temple. Nobles who saw as their peer, like the Rosefield woman and William, my shy teammate from the qualifiers. Even the annoyances were an inexperience, including Arthur, who isn’t so bad since he got what he asked for, and that bald bastard that won’t be missed.
Riding through the Grand Market reminds of my chaotic year on the rock and fills with…not quite regret. I think I’ll miss this place. That is, as a student. I’m not done with it. For one, I’m intending to form a lasting relation with the Temple, and for another, I’ve got business with the Summoning Hall. Soti in the future, when there aren’t dragons to worry about, I’ll lose myself in those records for a while. But my ti as an acolyte is over before it even begins, I think.
I can’t imagine sitting in a room, learning from people who are either terrified of or hate my guts. Or, worse, people with agendas for the city-destroying purple monster. Forging friendships is also going to be a struggle; I doubt many people will be able to get past the slaughter of hundreds, even if I think I had plenty of justification. I’m sure they’d swallow their trepidation and smile to curry favor with a powerful countess, but sotis my incredible senses can be a burden. I’d see right through their lies.
It'd be…distracting? Uncomfortable? Not to ntion sothing I can’t even consider for a year, maybe several. I’m not one to hold onto hope.
The feeling in my chest intensifies as we ride through the residential area, with its identical manors and grood lawns. None of them have the character as the ho I shared with Kierra. Need a few more man-eating plants and poisons. Perhaps a few fluffy apocalypses, heh.
Soon enough, the trip down my mories ends as we reach the large wall that separates the monster-filled Sanctuary from the rest of the Hall. The carriage slows as we reach the gate. I hear the two guards approach but they don’t ask anything, displaying their strange culture. I don’t understand it completely, but the Temple thinks words or evil. Or, perhaps expressing yourself in as few words as possible is a virtue. And yet, when they do speak, it’s always in needlessly wordy taphors.
Strange people.
They’re also the most morally respectable persons I’ve ever t. I’ve also never had any problem understanding them, so it’s more of an endearing quirk than an obstacle to communication.
I open the door of the carriage and stick my head out, catching the gazes of the two young n with bronze skin and darker coloring common to their group. “Hello. I’m looking for Cloud, er, Cloudy Blood Moon. I don’t suppose we can get a guide?” The Sanctuary is huge. The Hall covers a large chunk of the north of Quest and extends a good ways beyond it. Of that, a third of it is dedicated to the monster tars. More than large enough to get lost in.
Thankfully, my request is t with favorably. The n look at each other for a few monts before one nods and runs off. The second turns to and smiles, revealing a mouth full of broad, flat teeth. That’s the way I imagine a horse would look if it smiled. Co to think of it, is his face a little long? And his nose a bit too prominent?
Saints help him. I doubt having a horseface is going to look as good on him as fur does on my friend.
“The one with violet eyes is known to us.”
That was easy. Cloud spread the word about being a friend. And maybe the others? I’m sure we made a good impression on her friends. I’m also assuming that guard number two ran off to get a guide, maybe even Cloud herself.
“Thanks.” I shut the door and settle in to wait. The carriage is quiet; Kierra still isn’t her usual self, Alana has been brooding since her loss, and Butterfly is spaced out. Seeing no hope in engaging my lovers, I turn to the fake seer. “I feel like I should have asked this earlier, but what did you an when you said you coming would avoid bloodshed?”
“Hm?” She doesn’t turn to despite catching her attention. I’m pretty sure she’s been avoiding looking at any of us, even though her eyes are always closed. “Oh, yes. People like , that have these—” She gestures at her closed eyes. “—we don’t have a good track record of remaining sane and uncorrupted. After a particularly nasty piece of work nearly killed off the royal family a couple hundred years back—” Wait, what? “—the group started the annoying tradition of assigning each of us a minder while we’re out in the world. Soone who reports our every action to the powers that be and has the authority to execute us if they think we’re using our power for ill and whatnot.”
That’s… “The make you walk around with a figurative sword at your throat all the ti?”
She waves off whatever she hears in my tone. “It’s not quite as bad as that. People who can have these eyes are rare. People who can use them effectively are rarer. The training is quite harsh, you know? In my generation, they started with twenty-seven candidates and had to pick from three.”
“Saints.”
“That gives a lot of protection. Sure, he can chop my head off but if he doesn’t have a damn good reason, he faces a fate worse than death.” She chuckles. “It wouldn’t take that much to ruin him. He’s supposed to ‘keep in check’. I go off the beaten path, he gets the bla. I’d catch grief myself, but they need . Worse they’d do is take away my comforts. Him? Gone.”
“Your…minder. He’s a he?”
“Ah, yes. A mber of the Temple.”
I stare at her in disbelief. Part of the reason we’re here is because of my, admittedly, biased belief that the people of the Temple are the closest thing I can imagine to be incorruptible. Yet one of them is a mber of this secret society?
“Don’t be so surprised. The society is old. It’s got its fingers in every corner of this kingdom.”
“Still. I can’t imagine anyone from that culture being interested in manipulating things from the shadows.”
“There’s always an exception. My group counts on that. They find the weak links. The ones that hate their lives. Hate themselves.” She shakes her head. “You can’t imagine what people can do when there’s no love in their hearts.”
“I’ve got a pretty good idea.”
“Hah! You’re thinking of the Grimoires, aren’t you?” She has to be reading my mind. “Even they had lines they wouldn’t cross. Loyalty to certain people, to ideals. They could still love. There are people in this world that are nothing but ambition. And I pray you never learn to see into them the way I have.”
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