The buried symbol, p.29
The Buried Symbol, page 29
Benny nodded. “Okay. That makes sense, but how does this person gather the force in the first place? How is it channeled into the rune? How long does it last? How strong is the effect?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far. I hope we can get more answers from the book, though.” Brock paused, considering his next words. “I want to tell you guys something. It needs to stay between us. I need your word that it remains a secret.”
Benny glanced toward Cam, who spoke first. “I promise, Brock.”
With a nod, Benny added, “Me, too. You can trust us, Brock.”
Brock took a breath to ready himself. “I’ve done this before.” His finger tapped on the book in his lap.
Benny glanced down at the book, then up at Brock. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that I’ve used Chaos before. I didn’t know what I was doing or how I made it happen. But, I’ve done it before, more than once.”
Benny pushed his spectacles up, staring intensely. “What happened?”
Brock glanced at Cameron before responding. “You know our catapult? How it launched the ball ten times further than everyone else? I think I did that. I think it was Chaos that made it happen.”
Benny was focused, his curiosity high. “What did you do, Brock? How do you think it happened?”
“I had carved a rune into the frame of the catapult.” Brock bent over and opened his desk drawer. He reached in and grabbed a book, handing it to Benny. “The rune from the book cover. I carved it on a whim. The symbol caught my attention the first time I saw it. I knew it meant something. While I was alone with the catapult, I carved it. Then, after Corbin and Karl broke the record with their catapult launch, I did something. I was so…frustrated. You know that I loathe Corbin and how he hates me right back? I couldn’t let him win. I…did something. I’m still not sure what it was. Anyway, the rune began to glow for a bit before returning to normal. When we launched the ball…boom.” He made a motion with his hands flying up and apart.
Benny stared hard, nodding slowly. “Now, the engineers have tried and tried, but they can’t reproduce the same result. That means there’s a limit to how long the effect lasts.”
Brock shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know anything about that. I barely know what I described. I’m not even sure that I can do it again.”
Benny waved the comment off. “Oh, we’ll figure that out. We just need to experiment.” He tapped on the cover of the second book. “Can you tell me what this symbol means?”
Brock nodded. “That was the first thing I tried to discover when this other information came to light. I found it right before you walked in.” He glanced at Cam, then back to Benny. “That symbol means Power.”
* * *
Brock ignored the raucous crowd and focused on Cam, who stood across the circle from him with sword in hand and shield ready. The bell rang and the crowd’s noise filled the arena. The two roommates exchanged nods and stepped forward.
He let Cam take the offensive, swinging repeated strikes only to be blocked by Brock’s new staff. The loud clacking of wood on wood sounded out in a steady beat. After a dozen of these exchanges, Cam changed tactics. A downward chop fell, which Brock dodged. Cam thrust his shield into Brock, knocking him back. Brock rolled with the hit and came to his feet a couple strides from his opponent. Cam took two quick steps, closing the gap and swinging hard. Rather than blocking it, Brock ducked low and swung his staff at Cam’s legs. The larger boy leapt in the air, but Brock nicked one heel, causing Cam to stumble backward when he landed. Sensing an opening, Brock attacked before Cam could regain his balance. Cam blocked the series of strikes, the attack pushing him backward a few steps. When he realized that the opening had closed, Brock resumed a defensive stance.
Cam advanced, swinging a flurry of quick strokes that Brock blocked in rapid succession. He kicked his foot out to trip Brock, who spun away. They paused and measured each other. After sparring many times, each knew the other’s tendencies.
They both leapt forward, clashing repeatedly as the exchange lasted far longer than either wanted. The effort left them exhausted, causing one of them to make a mistake.
Cam came in hard, trying to end the fight. Brock ducked and rolled away from the strike, sweeping his staff low while Cam was over-extended. The staff struck hard behind Cam’s knee, causing him to fall backward. Sensing his opportunity, Brock closed for a killing blow. Cam rolled backward, coming to his knees and raising his shield just in time to block the strike. The swing deflected off the shield and left Brock exposed. Cam’s sword struck hard under Brock’s arm and pain exploded in his side, causing him to arch his back and to fall to his knees.
With one hand on the ground, Brock fought for air, each breath feeling like a dozen knives thrusting into his ribs. Budakis called the match. Brock heard the crowd roar, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to breathe and for it not to hurt so damn much.
Cam knelt beside him. “I think you broke some ribs. I hit you pretty hard.”
Brock glanced up at Cam. “Thanks. I hadn’t noticed.”
Cam flashed a grin before stepping away.
Ashland slid into the spot Cam had just vacated.
“I’m here,” she said as she placed her hand on his cheek.
He gave a small nod. “Ready.”
A shock of ice cold made his body shake, driving the last of the wind from his lungs. Gasping to reclaim air, he thankfully realized it no longer hurt to breathe. A wave of immense hunger hit him.
“Thanks. What would I do without you?” Brock said between breaths.
Ashland smiled, pulling a hard roll from her pocket. “Most likely, you’d get yourself killed.”
He accepted the roll and her assistance as she helped him to his feet. They walked to the side of the Arena as Vandermark quieted the crowd. He announced a short intermission before the next match, which would pit Cam against Tegan. Brock glanced toward his roommate, who sat on the bench with his helmet off as he stared at his opponent. The grin on Cam’s face made Brock wonder who was in more trouble: Cam or Tegan.
* * *
The hot water felt wonderful, soothing Brock’s sore muscles. Steam rising from the pool filled his nostrils as he closed his eyes in relaxation. That single bout with Cam wore on him more than his four bouts on the first day of the tournament.
The noise of the crowd carried through the changing room to the baths. Brock waited to see if Cam was advancing to the final round or was coming to join him. After a few minutes without Cam showing, he decided that his friend had won. Brock felt a twinge of guilt for not watching, but it soon passed. He was done with these senseless duels. Any bit of joy he used to get from sparring was now gone. All the same, he wished his friend the best of luck.
Soaking in the bath alone, he enjoyed the serenity of the moment. With closed eyes, his mind drifted until a roar from the Arena brought him back to reality. With a sigh, he waded to the stairs to grab his towel. Once dressed, he emerged from the changing room to see how his friend fared.
As Cam came into Brock’s view, Goren swung a wide-sweeping strike. Cam’s shield knocked it aside, and his sword came around low to hit his opponent hard behind the leg. Goren dropped to one knee, and Cam smashed him on top of the head with his shield. Brock cringed, knowing how that felt. Cam stood ready above Goren’s prone body when Budakis jumped in to call the match. The applause grew to a crescendo as Budakis held Cam’s hand high.
Brock smiled, feeling happy for his friend. If anyone deserved the recognition, it was Cam. Not only was he physically gifted, he also worked harder at perfecting his skills than anyone Brock knew.
While the crowd watched the victor receiving his medal, Brock climbed the stairs to join Ashland. She flashed him a smile and slipped her arm around his waist as he put his around her shoulder. Although it hurt when she squeezed him, he didn’t care.
Soon after, the crowd began to filter through the doors to fill the halls outside. Brock and Ashland followed along, holding hands. He just wanted to spend some quiet time with her before joining his friends to celebrate Cam’s victory.
44
It’s not working, Benny. I’m telling you, I don’t feel it,” Brock complained.
Benny shook his head. “I know we’re close. I just know it.”
Brock sat and opened his water skin. “I need a break. My head’s still throbbing from last night.”
Benny flashed a grin. “The wine was good, right?”
As Brock drank from the skin, he nodded. Swallowing, he replaced the cap. “Too good. That’s the problem.” He rubbed his eyes. “Where did you get a whole cask anyway?”
Benny held up his hands. “I’m sorry, but I cannot divulge my sources. I’d hate to give a secret up so easily.”
“Well, it must have cost you plenty.”
Benny nodded. “Oh, it was expensive, but I figured it was the least I could do after you and Cam helped me win all that gold.”
Brock chuckled when he thought about the prior evening. Benny had been more animated than ever as he raved about how his bets had won big. After opening the cask, it wasn’t long until half of their floor had joined them in the lounge for a cup or more. Brock still wasn’t sure why he had let Benny drag him out to the quarry behind the Foundry yard this early. He would have gladly slept longer, since he still felt the lingering effects of too much wine. Thank Issal it was Seventh Day.
Taking a breath, Brock gathered the will to try again. He walked over to the solid steel pole wedged under the huge stone block. His fingers traced the rune of Power they had carved into it.
“Tell me how you expect this to work again,” he said to Benny.
Benny walked over, patting the pole with one hand. “It’s simple. From what I can tell, the way the rune worked with the catapult is that it somehow augmented the normal amount of energy released, resulting in an energy level many times higher than normal. Here, you have a strong lever wedged under an extremely heavy object. If you can somehow charge the symbol that’s engraved in the pole, the energy applied to the lever will be multiplied many times, which will allow us to lift the stone block.”
Brock nodded. “Okay. I think I got it that time. The last time, you spouted cryptic stuff like,” Brock’s voice took on a nasal quality, “the applied effect caused the potential energy to increase exponentially blah, blah, blah.”
Benny laughed. “That was close. You almost had it, but the terms aren’t important. What I need you to do now is make it happen.”
“That’s what I’m telling you. I’m not sure how it happened before.” Brock shrugged. “It just kind of happened.”
Benny shook his head. “Don’t give up, Brock. Think back to the Catapult Challenge. Focus on what you did. Think about what you saw, what you heard, what you smelled, even what you felt.”
Brock nodded, thinking back to the situation. Corbin had just launched his catapult, breaking the school record. This was after he had tried to sabotage their catapult. Wait. Sabotage. Brock thought about the Arena Championship, recalling how he had left his staff in the changing room before breaking for lunch. Corbin knew the staff would break when he had swung the heavy overhand blow because he had sabotaged it first.
Anger began boiling inside of Brock. He closed his eyes, imagining Corbin sneaking into the changing room and making deep cuts into the staff. Brock felt the heat of that anger and…he also felt an angry energy around him. He absorbed that energy, drawing it in until he felt like he would burst. Opening his eyes, he poured the frantic energy into the rune and it began to glow hot red.
“Whoa! Look at that!” Benny exclaimed.
A wave of exhaustion washed over Brock. The rune pulsed, slowly dissipating until it looked like a normal engraving.
Benny smiled. “Can I try it again?”
Brock shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Standing beside the pole, Benny showed a hopeful smile. The past six tries had yielded nothing except a lot of grunting.
Benny took a breath, and pushed down on the pole. The huge stone block launched into the air. The solid steel pole screamed a high-pitched tone as it vibrated, causing Benny to let go. He fell onto his rear, rubbing his hands as he watched the stone block land in the snow thirty strides away.
Benny began to laugh, slapping his leg in glee.
Brock squatted and asked, “Are you okay, Benny?”
Nodding, Benny scrambled to his feet.
“That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.” Benny rubbed his hands together in excitement. “Let’s do it again.”
* * *
Spring rains started the next day. The remaining snow in the valley melted steadily, while the surrounding peaks remained white as the rain turned to snow at the higher elevation. After three weeks of steady rain, the sky cleared, and the sun began to dry away the pools of water that had formed.
The experiment with Chaos had provided interesting information on how long the magical effect lasted. The enhanced power of the lever had held steady for almost an hour before a rapid decline. By the time two hours had passed, it had returned to just a solid metal pole. After their successful and slightly scary experiment, Brock convinced Benny that they needed to learn more before somebody got hurt or killed. Disappointed, Benny shifted his focus back to his new invention.
Brock divided his free time between translating the book and spending it with Ashland. He preferred the latter, but much of her time was occupied by tasks set by Master Varius. When the rains relented, the two were able to leave the Academy for a night in Fallbrandt. Brock was happy to see Tipper and thrilled to spend time alone with Ashland. The couple relished every moment, not returning to the Academy until sunset the following evening.
In the weeks after the Arena Championship, Corbin changed, his usual boastful persona becoming withdrawn. Even in Hierarchist class, where he presided as Prelate of their imaginary government, Corbin was quiet and brooding. Brock assumed that it was related to the lisp that Corbin had developed after losing the tip of his tongue, though nobody dared to tease him. To Brock’s surprise, he began to feel sorry for Corbin.
When the weather was dry, their Paladin class moved outdoors four days a week. While they still spent time on tactics and fitness training, ranged weapons replaced their wooden melee weapons. They were taught how to use the short bow, longbow, and crossbow. After spending two weeks introducing basic bow techniques, Budakis had them each select one that they were to master. Brock opted for the short bow, but when Budakis announced the Marksman Tournament coming in late spring, Brock had low expectations. He couldn’t seem to grasp the nuances of the weapon.
While the bulk of the class practiced at the range, each day Budakis would send a group of fifteen students to spend time with Master Herron, the horse master. On those days, Brock learned the basics of horsemanship, from caring for the animal to riding one. He found that he could barely sit for two days after his first day of riding. Within three weeks, the soreness became little more than an annoyance.
In Ecclesiastics, the focus on divining finally ended when Varius introduced the next talent they were to develop.
“We are now three quarters of the way through your novice year. I’m sure you feel that this class has been moving slowly, focusing too long on only a few concepts. That feeling is understandable. However, I cannot stress enough how valuable healing is to the Empire and to its citizens. If the extra effort spent on developing the skill produces just one more healer per year, it’s worth it.”
Varius surveyed the room before continuing. “Of course, the other talent we’ve covered thus far is divining. Though far more common, it also has value and is worth spending a couple months to develop.” Pausing, she smiled. “I will now introduce a third ability that can manifest through Order. Prophecy.”
She glided down the aisle as she spoke. “Prophecy is an ability relating to the prediction of future events. While it can appear in various forms, the most common form is often perceived as simple intuition. It’s that little warning in the back of your mind that causes you to react to something about to happen, even before it occurs. I realize that this is a complex concept, so let me give you an example.
“Someone who has a strong connection with Order might enter a room but stop suddenly, not knowing why. A second later, the chandelier above falls to the floor right where the person would have been if he or she hadn’t stopped. In this case, a subtle ability in prophecy becomes a sort of additional sense, catching the smallest glimpse into their own immediate future.
“You may wonder how this is possible. How could one see into the future? To understand, you need think of Order as a force that exists not only in the present, but also in the past and in the future. I’ve explained that Order is within all living things as the life force that binds us. While we only experience time in this moment, always moving forward in a linear fashion, the Order existing within you has existed throughout your whole past and extends into your future, stretching forward like a thread through time. When connected to that force of Order, you may be able to extend that connection out just a bit into the future, giving you a glimpse of what is coming.
“There are two key items to note. First, it’s far easier to see into your own future than the future of others, because it is tied to you. Second, the near future is much easier to determine than a more distant future. Your thread of Order extending in the past has been defined and is singular, but your future is an array of possibilities, fanning out wide from the present. The closer you are to now, the less variability there is to your future and the easier it is to foretell.
“There is also a far more rare manifestation of prophecy. This is true prophecy, where a person will experience a vision of some critical event in the future, possibly a distant future. In this form of prophecy, one must connect to the more broad force of Order that exists in all living things. How this occurs is unknown, though many theories exist. In all documented cases throughout history, though there are few, this type of prophecy has served as a warning used to guide and prepare for some critical event.
