Starbreaker

“Fraternization between members of the Ardent is strongly discouraged. Fraternization across the ranks is liable to result in disciplinary action. If these simple rules cannot be observed, contraception is available at the discretion of Quartermaster Chul.”

—Memo, Administrator Mengrammon

 

The private tutoring session ended far sooner than Sylvas would have liked after Fahred gave him a quick scry and realized how unstable his mana-base was at present.

 

Name: Sylvas Vail

Species: Human

Health: 94%

Mana: 281%

First Circle Embodiment: Arterium Arcanum

First Circle Paradigm: Clearmind

Second Circle Embodiment: Arcane Bulwark

Second Circle Paradigm: Lockmind

Affinity: Gravity

Strength: F1

Resilience: F2

Speed: F1

Potency: E5

Focus: E11

Regeneration: E13

 

From there he was shunted out of the deep dark depths of the complex and forced out into the night air, first by the Instructor harrying him towards bed, then by a desire not to linger too long out in the open. Every day here felt like a battle, and he’d been shipped here more or less directly from the most violent conflict he could have conceived of, it was hardly surprising that when he was out of cover, he became uncomfortable. The alien stars above him did nothing to help. Back home he could name the constellations and predict from the position of the moons how the floes of mana would be affected. Here he didn’t know a single star.

Approaching the Blackhall felt very much like closing in on enemy fortifications. These people had been his enemy just yesterday, the officers looking down their noses at him and the other recruits and now he was going to be one of them. Kaya was going to be one of them too, somehow, just by proximity to him. So much had happened since affinity testing that morning that he’d barely even taken in what had happened yet, but here he was walking into the den of the lions.

This building seemed as old as the central tower, but while the main building of the campus had been patched and restored to working order using whatever materials were to hand, the Blackhall seemed different. The original architecture hadn’t been built over, it had been restored. Reinforced where necessary, but not at the cost of the overall aesthetics of the place, which went a long way to making it feel more like home to Sylvas than any of the modern slickness prevalent in the Empyrean.

As he walked up the stairs he had the sense of being watched, but nobody tried to stop him, and when he pushed the heavy wooden doors open and passed through the wards to keep out the endless dust, he found himself stepping out onto flagstones. He had shoes on now, of course. Boots really. He was a lifetime away from the orphanage and all its torments, but something about this place seemed to bring it all back.

There was furniture here. Not metal frames built to serve a function, but actual chairs and sofas lined the main hall. A circular firepit was set in the center of the room, producing a steady warmth with a dull red flame that was anything but natural. The walls had been smoothed back to their original texture, though all carving and art must have long since been stripped bare by time. It was… pleasant.

Then people started to take notice of him. Heads turning away from conversations, eyes rising from slates, he was deep in enemy territory and the sentries had been alerted. He saw officers from Hammerheart’s little clique gathered around a table to the back of the room, all eyes on him. He hadn’t learned any new spells yet. His old ones would need vast modifications to work with the new mana flowing through him. This was the worst-case scenario – short of Hammerheart himself being released – and Sylvas, in his excited daze, had walked right into it.

Bael stepped up and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Welcome to the better part of Strife, my friend.”

At that, eyes began to turn away again. Hammerheart’s lackies turned their attention back to whatever game of chance they’d been in the midst of and the other various interested parties began to return to their conversations with looks of annoyance cast in the elf’s direction. “I am pleased to see that you’ve decided to join us here in the Blackhall, I hope that you find the accommodations to your liking.”

“Seems like a nice place.” Sylvas managed to say.

“Would you like me to guide you to your room, or perhaps to take a tour of the facilities?”

Sylvas realized with a start that he hadn’t gone back to his old bunk to collect any of his belongings, then realized a moment later that he didn’t really have anything to bring anyway. His slate was in his pocket, newly updated with all of the previously restricted information about gravity affinity spells, embodiments and paradigms, and the only clothes he had left that weren’t in the wash cycle were the ones on his back. Including, of course, the jacket that was recruit uniform, unsuitable for someone in his position. “Just my room for now I think, had a busy day.”

The hand on his shoulder became an arm slung around them as Bael led him off behind a tapestry to a stairwell. “The type of day that prophets foretell, and historians adore from what I hear.”

Sylvas winced. Everyone must have heard that. But then again, everyone must have already heard that he’d destroyed the affinity testing chamber, that he had gravity affinity and that he was being promoted, otherwise he wouldn’t have been here at all, let alone unchallenged. For being a whole planet, Strife was a shockingly small place when it came to rumors. He tried to downplay it. “I’m not sure about all that.”

Glancing back over his shoulder, Bael’s voice dropped to little more than a whisper. “I expect that the offers have already started coming in?”

“Offers?” Sylvas glanced sideways. Talking with the elf made him feel slightly off balance. The man talked like he was from one of the old plays that Sylvas had come across in the library back home, all stiff politeness and profuse verbiage.

“Every shipping conglomerate in the Empyrean will want you for themselves to start with. All the noble families would love a gravity mage of their own so that they can send out looting expeditions, pardon, explorations into unoccupied space. And that isn’t even accounting for every smuggler or spy in the entire universe who will want to bypass the attention that passage through the waygates attracts. In the span of a single day it appears that you have made yourself into the most desirable commodity in the Empyrean. Everyone wants to own you.”

Sylvas tried not to grit his teeth at the idea of anyone owning him. “I’m with the Ardent.”

That seemed to puzzle Bael immensely. “I do not understand your hesitation… you’re worth so much more. You do not need to earn acceptance in society by fighting Eidolons now, there is an entire universe of possibilities open to you.”

Sylvas shrugged his shoulders. “I told the Ardent that I was going to fight for them, so I’m going to.”

Bael cocked his head to the side, long straight hair falling out from where it had been tucked behind his ears. As long as Sylvas’ used to be before it was burnt off. “Is this a matter of honor?”

The question took Sylvas a little off guard. He supposed that it was in a way. He’d made a promise to join the Ardent, to help them in the fight against the Eidolons, and he had no intention of breaking that promise. “I guess it is.”

“A rather archaic mode of behavioral management, but one that I cannot deny has merit.” He stepped off the spiral staircase through another hidden doorway, this one secreted not behind a tapestry, but behind an illusion of a solid wall. Sylvas had no idea how he’d told it apart from the rest of the wall without second sight. Perhaps he hadn’t.

Corridors stretched out from the spiral staircase like the spokes of a wheel, each side lined with closed doorways, each door bearing a brass plate with the name of the occupant inscribed on it. Presumably by some spell.

“I think I can take it from here.” He turned to Bael with a genuine smile. It was nice to know he had some sort of ally here in the Blackhall, even if it was only because the man was feeling so guilty about Enore’s death.

“By all means, and please do not hesitate to use a sending should you require any further guidance, this place is quite deliberately labyrinthian to minimize the danger of any intruder, but it does make it something of a nuisance to navigate on the day to day.”

“Thanks.” He backed away into the door of his room, fumbling for a moment with the handle before stepping over the threshold and pressing the door shut behind him. As useful an ally as this elf might be, his ability to read social cues was terrible.

Turning around he was confronted by a surprisingly well-appointed bedroom. By the window there was a study space with a desk and a selection of slates, presumably preloaded with the information that he’d require for his studies. A small seating area around another of the dull red flames. A wooden wardrobe large enough to hold an actual person’s selection of clothing, rather than the 3 to 5 items that Sylvas was in possession of on a daily basis. And then, there was the bed. It was not a cot, nor a bunk, it was a double. Sylvas stared at it for a long time, with confusion mounting until Kaya wandered through from the bathroom – their own private bathroom – in a towel to greet him. She followed his gaze, then snorted. “Don’t look so scared, I’m not going to jump you, there’s a bed in my room on the other side of the bog.”

“The… bog…” Sylvas trailed off.

Kaya shrugged. “The crap room. The toilet. The lavatory.”

“I wasn’t aware that we’d be sharing quarters.”

She threw back her head and laughed. “To start with, they had us sharing the bed. Thought we were married because you ain’t a dwarf but I told them you were part of my clan. Trust these Ardent kulgh to add one to one and get three.”

“I am relieved that you corrected this assumption.” And he was privately relieved that they hadn’t only promoted her on the assumption that they were a married couple and he’d want her to tag along.

“Well I can hardly bed every tall-lad in the Blackhall if they think I’ve got a husband.”

The noise that came out of Sylvas mouth was something like a strangled goose might make.

When her mocking laughter abated, she sidled up to the bed, “Alright then stanzbuhr. You’d better be big spoon. Keep me from rolling on my back. That’s when you get the bad snores.”

“Kaya,” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I cannot share a bed with you.”

“I bet you could, I’m pretty small, all things considered.” She had lost the towel and pulled on her sleep-gear while he was distracted with the question of their sleeping arrangements. And now she stood next to the bed looking back at him expression unreadable.

Sylvas opened and closed his mouth. Then walked back over to the bed. Kaya stared at him as he stripped out of the rest of his uniform and drew back the blankets.

“Go to bed.” He rolled over so that he was facing away from her, but he felt the other side of the mattress dip as she sat down.

The lights dimmed themselves as soon as her feet left the floor. One of a great many enchantments layered over the room. Not even accounting for the wards that maintained their privacy and kept out unwanted intruders. They lay in the dark for a moment. Sylvas hoping that she’d get bored and leave if he didn’t respond to the teasing.

From the other side of the bed, Kaya whispered, “Stanzbuhr?”

“Go to bed, Kaya.” He grumbled.

But she would not relent. “Do you want me to be big spoon?”

He kicked her out of the bed with a clatter of metal parts.