Chapter 23
The Order of the Aegis is a global entity, if not in the public eye. They have twenty-four academies across Anogwin training the next generation. The entire organization is operated from its headquarters in the nation of Netarrum.
Day 155, Hornaday
Slowly, I rose from the black void of unconsciousness. First, I became aware of my heavy body. Then how tired I was. Then the comfort of warmth and plushness. I slowly opened my eyes when I heard low talking. I was in the medical center infirmary. The beds here were a sad excuse, but at that moment, mine was as good as a griffin-feather-down bed. Even with the soft blankets, I still felt a bone-deep chill.
I looked around the private room. The lights were dim. My bed was against the back wall. To my right, a pair of chairs. To my immediate right, an IV bag full of blood was attached to my forearm.
The voices outside were getting heated.
“I just don’t think he’s ready,” came the deep basso of Mystagogue Thrasher.
“Whether or not he’s ready doesn’t matter,” said Thallos, agitated. “You saw the footage. The power he displayed without a focus is unheard of for his age. He needs more advanced training, and given his scores, I feel he qualifies for becoming a Dark Hunter.”
“I agree his display was impressive, but we have no idea how he’ll respond.”
“Impressive?! Are you kidding? According to his medicals, he shouldn’t be able to access his Mystwell at all. Yet he unleashed enough raw force to scar two students beyond healing, and that was from a puncture through his hand that lit half the field. I saw the aftermath. It looked like a war zone. If we don’t train him, he will pose a serious threat to his class, himself, maybe even the academy.”
“I don’t think it’s safe, Thallos. You killed your last two disciples. Either you’ll go easy on him because he’s family and he’ll be under-prepared, or you’ll push him to madness or death.”
“Tommies, I admit, was not a good candidate. But Sherra displayed all the talents. No one could have predicted she would go so far we had to put her down.”
“How do we know that won’t happen to Iver? Could you handle your nephew going unstable? For that matter, would you be able to put him down?”
“Come now, Thrasher. I feel it in my bones. This boy is different. I will only push him hard enough. I’ll even allow him free time with friends and regular sleep.”
I wasn’t sure I liked what they were talking about. What training? What was a Dark Hunter? And what did Thallos do to his last students? I had so many questions. I wanted answers, but what was the best way to get them? I pulled myself up to a sitting position, and the lights in the room brightened sharply. A distant buzzer went off.
“He’s up,” came Thrasher’s voice. “The choice falls to you, ma’am. How should we proceed?”
A calm female voice answered, “We will let him choose his future. Regardless, we will have to give him control training.”
The door slid open to reveal Trainee Healer Tessa leading in the group of instructors, headed by the Mysteriarch. The Gnome girl pulled up a stool and began checking my contusion. She flashed a penlight in my eyes. “Are you feeling dizzy?”
“No.”
“Nauseous?”
“Nope.”
“Overly hot or cold?”
“I’m kind of cold, in a weird way.” I rubbed my arms.
“Your skin is warm, but your guts and bones have a chill?” she asked, pulling my mouth open.
“Yeah.”
“That’s normal. It should go away in a day or two. We’ll have to keep you here until the IV bag is empty. Expect to stay at least a day.” She hopped off the stool. “You’re lucky. Since we can’t tell what breed of Darkling you are, we had to test your blood compatibility. We only had three Fiend-bred and two Devil-bred types. Your body seems to accept all of them.” She hopped off again and began taking notes. “Our best guess is your blood type is GZ+, a universal receiver. It still doesn’t tell us your breed. But these instructors need to speak with you.”
The Mysteriarch pulled a chair closer. “How are you feeling?”
“Physically, a bit cold. Emotionally, stressed. Mentally, all flavors of confused.”
She nodded deeply. “All to be expected. We have some answers and some questions. How familiar are you with the laws of myst?”
“Most of what I know is from class. Why?”
“So you know everything in our reality is made from myst, correct?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
She leaned forward. “Are you familiar with the term ‘Myst-Blooded’?”
“I know blood is formed from Water, Earth, and Life Myst.”
“That’s not what I’m asking.”
“Then no, ma’am.”
“It’s complicated. All casters need a focus. Wizards use a Grim Stora, Sorcerers a Catalyst Gyro-Prism, and so on. A caster’s classification is based on their elemental affinities. Myst-Blooded have two different kinds. Do you want to guess?”
“The Dualities are made of opposing forces like Life and Death.”
“Good. Now, almost all Dualities are split into what two types?”
“Umm… Positive and negative alignments?”
“Correct. Now take a wild guess what the two alignments of Myst-Blooded are.”
“Positive and Negative?”
“Correct again. Myst-Blooded are a very rare classification with one of two sides of the affinity list. Light-Blooded can use Fate, Synthesis, Life, Lumina, Stasis, and Resonance. Dark-Blooded use Chaos, Ruin, Death, Umbra, Morphic, and Distortion.”
“What about the Core Elements?”
“Good question. They are neutral, so they can be used by both. Now, there are two sizable differences. Light-Blooded can’t use any negative polarity elements, and vice-versa. Now, the biggest difference is how we know you,” she gently pressed a talon to my chest, “are Myst-Blooded. Want to guess?”
I rolled the question around. The answer was in the name. “My blood.”
“Well done. Myst-Blooded use their blood as a focus, which makes their spells very potent. But you need to spill blood to cast, and the more blood, the more powerful the spell. I assume you can see the danger.”
I numbly nodded. If I spilled too much blood, I could kill myself. I looked at my right hand, at the pale scars. On one hand, I was elated to be a caster. Being a caster put me a step above the common folk. But I couldn’t just conjure fireballs at will. I’d need to pay in literal blood.
I felt the scars on my hand as I started thinking about how to make casting quicker and less harmful. A question came to mind.
“Which one am I?” I asked.
“Well, Iver, we ran tests. You are Dark-Blooded. I’m sure you know how dangerous that makes you if you’re not trained. We will need to get you into specialized classes.”
“Oh,” was all I could say, disheartened. I was hoping for Light-Blooded. To heal, see far, or bless would have been awesome. Most of all, I could have used Synthesis, made my own batteries. Ruin only destroyed. I wanted to create.
I clenched my scarred hand into a fist, resolute. I looked the Mysteriarch in her good eye. “When do I start?”
Thallos stepped forward. “That brings us to our next question. Only you can answer it.”
“Alright, shoot.”
“Think long and hard before you answer,” Mystagogue Thrasher warned. “This is a life-changing choice. If you act in haste, you may regret it for the rest of your days.”
“With the manifestation of your new abilities, and your current scores, you technically qualify for specialized training for an elite sect, hidden even from most of the Order,” Thallos explained.
“Alright. What is this hidden sect within the already hidden order?” I meant it as a joke. No one took it as one.
“We can’t tell you without you agreeing to walk that path,” stated the Mysteriarch.
Thallos stepped to the foot of my bed, his normally confident smirk gone. That scared me. “If you join this sect, it means a complete change of routine. This offer is only extended to the truly talented. I think you could be a good fit.”
“But if you agree,” Thrasher interjected, “and you thought your current training was harsh, this new regiment would be hellish.”
Hellish training. Borderline torture. What was the payoff?
“What would this training entail?”
“You’re familiar with the Mastlok, correct?” Thallos quizzed. I nodded. “Well, this is similar, only a higher caliber. Instead of learning two or three sects, you’ll learn to master all five.”
I rapidly blinked. “Wait, what?! All five sects? You want me to become a warrior, assassin, spy, craftsman, and scholar?”
“Not just become those roles, but master them,” Thallos said, amused at my astonishment.
“How in the hells am I supposed to master all five in less than a year?”
“Oh, you won’t,” corrected Mysteriarch K. “You will have six more years and plenty of field experience. You will just have to meet a set of standards under Mystagogue Kiem.”
“What? I’ll be training under my uncle?”
“Why not?” asked Thallos. “I’m already a member, a master trainer, and I know your skills better than anyone. You probably didn’t know, but I’ve been keeping an eye on your progress. You’ve got a sharp set of synapses. You learn quickly when you have the drive. You’re proactive enough to seek training from an upperclassman, and you have a sense of justice.”
I couldn’t help but blush and give a proud smirk.
Thallos leaned forward. “Now, I’m not going to lie, boy. If you start down this path, there is no going back. This training will test your mettle and will. You are going to hate me. But I know you can pass. I can feel it in my bones.” He flashed a wild grin that set my soul alight with fervor.
But I couldn’t just jump in. “I’m interested and terrified. But what’s the gain? I’ve seen a whole lot of sticks and no carrots. As amazing as it sounds, I don’t see that as the only reason to undergo such brutal… guidance? It feels like less guiding and more violently beating a square peg into a round hole.”
“Are you saying you don’t think you’re a good fit?” asked the Mysteriarch.
“What? No. I meant it as reshaping.”
“A better analogy is forging,” Thrasher elaborated. “Most students are a tool with one or two uses. You would become a device so versatile you could be put into almost any situation and pull success from the flames.”
“But to answer your question,” the Mysteriarch began, “other than the advantage of the training itself, you would be issued maximum security clearance in any nation, regardless if they work with or against the Order. You will have access to resources from all five sects, including some exclusive to the sixth. You would have access to the treasuries of each sect. Your stipend would reflect your skill set. All travel expenses would be covered. And you can choose to live in any nation and work with the local branch.”
That was a lot to take in. “Wow,” was all I could manage.
“Wow is right, kiddo,” Thallos said with a smirk. “To put it in frame, I have four houses, one on each of the livable continents. When I’m not on a mission, I’ve traveled the world for fun. Oh, and did I mention my time here is considered a mission? I’m getting paid some thick clatter to sit around, eat, smoke, and make fun of students.”
The Mysteriarch shot him a warning look. “Excuse me? You’re doing what now?”
“Just encouraging our students through abstract means, ma’am,” Thallos replied, his demeanor suddenly somber. The mask didn’t crack until she rolled her eyes and turned back to me.
“Now, Iver, I am aware your uncle is a recent addition to your life. You’ve noticed he is comical and easygoing off the clock. But when he puts on his mentor’s mask, he can be harsh. What you would go through is nothing like what he put you through before. He will push you. If you’re not ready, you will likely break. That being said, your test scores and point scores are within a reasonable range, and you have points in four of the five vectors. Your performance on the day of your awakening shows you have the skills for a Crimson Blade. All of this means you have a chance of being a uniquely good fit, should you not break. But this is your choice. You will receive no repercussions if you turn it down.”
My gaze fell back to the scar on my hand. This was a life-altering choice. An opportunity to become one of the legends. Could I handle it? On the other hand, could I turn it aside? Could I live with myself as a standard member and not regret it? If I took the offer and broke, I would regret every moment until they wiped my memory.
Three possible outcomes: a typical agent, doing something I enjoyed. I could break my limits and become a hero. Or I could break instead, be excommunicated, and left to wander as a cursed child.
My fists clenched as I came to my decision. I looked up at the Mysteriarch and gave her my answer.
