Faith and Moonlight (2 page)

Roan paced the hallway, feeling the wall’s smooth stone under his hand. He had just changed into new clothes, the light gray jacket and pants of an aspirant to the school, but he was not truly comfortable in them. He felt too conspicuous, too obviously out of place. The grays marked him as an outsider.

He was waiting for Kay, but something scratched at the back of his mind. There was a strange, quiet sort of hum in the air, and every once in a while, it would surge. The feeling was unusual, but not entirely unfamiliar, like hearing a song and realizing the words were familiar, though you could not place the tune.

It was all around him. The more he concentrated, the more he felt it pulling in a specific direction. Almost without thinking, he headed through the hallway.

Outside, bright green grass seemed to glow in the sunshine. Trees and hedges, meticulously shaped with an artistry that accentuated their natural form, lined the pathways. The heart of the power throbbed from a large
building across the grass.

“Roan!” Kay called.

Like him, she had changed into her aspirant’s uniform. She
ran to him breathlessly, but his attention kept being drawn back to the
building. Feeling it tugging, he continued toward it.

“Where are you going?” she said, catching up to him. “We’re
supposed to be waiting for the prefect to come and guide us.”

“It’s coming from there. I just want to see.”

Frowning, Kay continued by his side, trying to match his
longer stride. “What’s coming from there?”

“Can’t you feel it?”

“I don’t feel anything,” she said, the smooth skin of her
brow furrowing.

It occurred to Roan that in spite of how intense the
feeling was for him, Kay noticed nothing. He saw doubt begin to return to her
eyes, but before she could think more on it, Roan grabbed her outstretched hand
and pulled her along, giving her a smile. “Come on.”

Together, they moved across the grass, directly to the
building the power seemed to be coming from. He felt it thudding at him like a
colossal beating heart.

Roan realized the building was substantially larger than he
had first thought. It was bright shining white, like all the rest, but
perfectly round.

“What is it?” Kay asked, as they stepped inside. “Where are
we going?”

The interior was almost entirely open space, ringed with
tall windows around the top. Daylight shone brightly through them, filling the
room with an amber glow. Beneath, rows of seats arrayed around a large recessed
area covered with pure, smooth white sand.

A group of older students watched two others in the center
of the ring. A young man held a sword and the other, a young woman, carried a
short spear.

“It’s a fight,” Roan whispered, smiling.

Before Kay could respond, the duel started. Both combatants
moved toward each other, and as they did, unseen energy surged from them. Roan
felt it echo against his heart. He heard Kay gasp sharply and knew she had felt
it as well.

From his earliest memory, Roan had seen fighting, but he
had never seen anything like this. There was none of the savagery he witnessed
growing up. Instead, it was all grace and control. Closer to a dance, but with
the spontaneity of leaves being blown about by the wind. Back and forth, sword
and spear moved against each other.

The flash of the blades in the sunlight dazzled the eye,
and the contrast of black uniforms and white capes accentuated the speed and
grace of their exchanges. They moved lightly, feet barely disturbing the sand’s
pristine smoothness.

As the fight picked up in intensity, so too did the energy.
Roan felt it rolling off the fighters like roaring winds. Like a crack of
thunder, a sharp spike of the unknown energy struck the arena. A spray of white
sand was sent flying by an unseen force, and the woman with the spear staggered
back.

A burst of the energy surged from the female, and the
roaring hum grew louder. As the woman attacked, her spear seemed to separate
and unfold until the one weapon became six, each thrusting at her opponent. The
swordsman waved his blade in a blinding arc, parrying as many as he could. Then
her spear snapped back into a single weapon that darted past his guard,
striking square in the chest. The blow sent the young man flying into the sand.

Kay gasped, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. The
assembled students below clapped and cheered.

The vanquished young swordsman sat up, shaking his head.
His opponent was already making her way over to offer a hand. Together and with
matching smiles, the two walked back to the crowd while two new students took
their place in the dueling space.

“Amazing, right?” said a voice behind them.

Roan spun around to a young man in the black jacket and
white cape. “Sorry,” the student said, his hands up in a gesture of
supplication. “I didn’t want to ruin it by interrupting.”

The young man looked to be around their age, though he was
slightly shorter than Roan. He ran a hand through his brown hair, pausing for a
moment, but the smile he gave was easy and friendly. As Roan looked more
closely, he noticed that unlike the meticulous state of his jacket, the young
man’s cape was faded and somewhat ragged.

“They are provosts, almost tempered. Looking to represent
Faith in the Grand Tournament.” The young man looked down at the duel going on
amidst the statues and sand. “They’ve spent most of their lives getting to that
level of mastery and control. And now they’re almost done here.”

“It’s beautiful,” Kay said, and Roan could not disagree
with her sentiment.

“Yes it is. And one day, that will be us down there on the
floor of the Hourglass.” There was an optimism to his words that was tough to
ignore, even for Roan. “But not today. The Hourglass is off-limits for us. This
way,” he said.

Roan and Kay followed the young man outside, leaving the
clashing of steel and waves of power. Their guide turned to them. “I’m Erik
Saer. I’m the prefect assigned to you.”

“I’m Roan,” he told Erik. “And this is Kay.”

Erik smiled and nodded at both of them. “Well, now that
I’ve tracked you two down, and since it seems you’ve already got a bit of
curiosity about the school grounds,” he teased good-naturedly, “I’ll show you
around a bit.”

As he started walking, Kay moved to his side. “What was
that back there? What was that feeling?”

“That,” he said, his smile growing, “is what makes a Razor
what we are. It’s the power of the Ascended that we all tap into.”

Kay furrowed her brow, but kept quiet. Walking away from
the Hourglass, Roan felt the hum and tingle from the duel weaken. But even
still, there was an underlying current of it all around, like it emanated from
the earth and stone of the place itself.

“I hope you don’t mind my asking about it,” Erik said.
“It’s pretty rare to get aspirants who are so old. You guys must be special.
Are you connected to an Ascended bloodline?”

There was a slight pause. “Actually, no,” Kay said. “We
grew up at Sanctuary Foundling House.”

“Foundling house?” Erik said, his brow furrowing. “An
orphanage?”

Roan’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Does that matter?”

“Not a bit,” Erik said evenly. “You’re Faith now,” he said
with a grin.

As they walked, Roan saw something was worrying Kay. “Erik,
how do most students come to Faith?” she asked finally.

“Outside of Resa is a place they call the Fairgrounds. It
was built on the site of one of the great battles Aedan fought, so it’s a
special place. Like the ground here. There are instructors there from all the
schools, and anyone who wants to can come and train there.”

“It sounds amazing,” Roan said.

Erik shook his head. “It’s not. It’s…” he paused, seeming
to search for the right word. “It’s desperate. There are kids everywhere. Sons
and daughters of nobles, the children of merchants, beggar kids coming from the
streets of the capital. All are there, desperately trying to pierce the veil,
because once you do, you’re in.”

“And what if they can’t do it?” Kay asked.

“They keep trying. Some stay at the Fairgrounds for years.”

“Until when?” she asked quietly. “At what point do they
give up their dream and accept it won’t happen?”

Erik paused before answering. “By ten,” he said. “The
schools don’t admit anyone after ten summers. They say if it hasn’t happened by
then, it never will.”

Kay’s face grew pale and her pace slowed. Roan’s stomach
tightened. They were already four years past.

Erik must have seen the impact his words had. “Don’t worry
about that,” he said, shifting tone. “You two will make it.”

“Thank you, Erik, but you don’t know that.”

“Yes I do. You’re in Faith. This place, the ground and the
buildings and the people, all of it is special. Magical. It will help you.” He
raised a finger. “Plus, you have something special that no candidate at the
Fairgrounds, or even the greatest warriors of Faith, ever had.”

“What’s that?” Kay asked, her eyes wide.

“A truly great tutor,” Erik said, pointing his upraised
finger to himself.

Kay laughed, and Roan smiled. It was good to hear her laugh
again. It had been a long time. Much too long.

Erik led them down a broad central path toward the heart of
the school grounds. Ahead of them, a building loomed. It looked older than the
other buildings around it. The white stone was not the pristine white of the
other structures. It was the mellowed tone of old bone.

As Erik opened the door for them, he bowed his head
slightly. The warm, genuine smile was still there, but tempered with reverence.
He quietly led them inside.

The room was a circular stone arena, the polished obsidian
floor gleaming. Small candles were placed here and there, their flickering
flames reflecting off the floor’s smooth perfection.

Rising up from the center of the space was an enormous
statue, dwarfing the students standing in silent veneration. It depicted a
powerful warrior clad in a swirling cloak of carved marble. In his hands was a
massive sword, the tip of which was driven into the obsidian.

Roan stared at the immense blade, unable to avert his eyes.
The weapon was not carved from white stone like the statue that wielded it. It
was steel. A real blade, though four times the height of a tall man.

Kay spoke in a hushed whisper. “That sword… is that?” she
stammered.

Erik nodded. “The sword of Baheyer himself.”

Roan stared at a piece of legend made real. He had always
believed the stories, the tales of great Aedan and the First Ascended, but here
was proof. The First Ascended had gained the strength of their fallen brothers
and sisters, and, in doing so, had grown not only in power, but stature.

The weapons of the First Ascended, as much a part of them
as their own flesh, had grown with them, spirits of the wielder merging with
the wielded into something powerful enough to turn back the darkness.

That was Roan’s favorite part of the legend, and, as a
child, he imagined what such blades would look like. Never had he expected to
stand before one.

In contrast to the smooth perfection of the statue itself,
the sword was worn, making it all the more real. The blade itself was pitted
and chipped, the edge ragged where it had been broken on the backs of the
Ruins. This was no showpiece, but a weapon wielded for the very salvation of
humanity by the greatest the world had ever seen—or would ever see.

The buzzing hum filled the air. Roan closed his eyes, trying
to tune it out, but this only made it worse. It echoed in his skull.

Roan opened his eyes, trying to steady himself amidst sound
and sensation. Kay was talking with Erik, but he could barely make out their
words over the incessant hum. Whatever was making the sound, whatever he was
feeling, it was clear that Kay was ignorant of it. Even Erik seemed to take no
notice.

There was a pull, a tugging sensation that drew him toward
the sword. Before he realized what he was doing, Roan moved to stand before the
blade.

The humming rose to fill every part of him. He felt it in
his bones, in his teeth. His eyes vibrated with the thrum of it. He placed his
palm against the metal blade. The moment he made contact, the mad humming grew
into a powerful crescendo that took the breath from Roan’s body.

And then it was gone.

Roan looked at his hand, half-expecting to see it marked in
some way, but the skin was the same as ever.

“You felt something,” said a voice beside him.

Before him was a slender young man, about Roan’s own age.
His blonde hair fell over his face, and his green eyes gleamed with intensity.
He wore the uniform of a Faith student, but unlike the others, this ensemble
was open; jacket unbuckled, and cape swept over one shoulder.

He met Roan’s gaze. “I’m Gideon,” he said.

“Roan.”

“So, you felt something?”

Roan shot a glance to Kay and Erik, who motioned for him to
join them. Kay’s face bore concern, and Roan didn’t know how to explain what he
was feeling. But he knew it wasn’t happening to her, and the last thing he
wanted was to shake her confidence.

“Didn’t feel a thing,” he said and quickly rejoined the
others.

As he came up to her, Kay fixed him with a questioning
look. “What is it?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

Roan shook his head. “Nothing. Just trying to process
everything.” He shifted his focus to Erik. “What other wonders are you going to
show us?” he asked.

Erik grinned. “Follow me.”

As the three walked out, Roan felt blonde boy’s eyes upon
him.

Walking in Erik’s wake, Kay felt lightheaded. The
scope and scale of what she saw had shaken her. A relic of ancient legends that
shaped her imagination had been close enough to touch. The impossible greatness
of it made her seem small and insignificant.

Roan moved up beside her and offered a smile, but his gaze
kept reverting to the grand building they left. Perhaps he felt as she did, but
Kay dismissed that thought. She knew Roan never felt small and insignificant.
Even when she first found him bloodied and starving outside the orphanage,
there had been a strength to him. An intensity he always carried.

Erik led them to another building. “Preceptor Pamalia made
arrangements for your first class,” he said. “Eventually, you’ll be folded into
the regular curriculum, but for now, you have more individual lessons.”

At his words, Kay’s nerves flared. “Lessons?” she said
hesitantly. “But we’ve barely arrived.”

Erik gave her a half-shrug. “Well, it is a school,” he
offered. “And besides, this is what we all start out with. The first lesson is
always Preceptor Ksena’s Rose.”

“Ho, Erik,” said a voice behind Kay, drawing her attention.

Coming out the door was a pair of students, both wearing
the white mantle of Faith. The young man was tall and lanky and had light hair
that looked tossed and messy. The girl by his side had vibrant red hair and
light eyes. Both had their jackets unbuckled, and there was a relaxed and happy
air about them that made Kay smile. They returned the gesture.

Erik put his arms around the two newcomers. “These two,” he
said with obvious pride, “are the best of Faith.” The two of them smiled even
more broadly. “Not necessarily with a blade, mind you—”

Erik was cut off as the red-haired girl elbowed him in the
stomach, but he came up laughing. “But the best in every other way you could
imagine,” he said. “This is Sabine Collesse,” Erik said as Sabine gave a
confident nod and waved. Erik gestured to the other. “And this is Lillarn
Mattan.”

The tall young man gave a deep bow—and then fell over.

Kay gasped as he fell, but instead of hitting the ground,
the man tucked his chin and rolled to his feet to stand before them. The grand
gesture almost went wrong as he stumbled coming back up. Sabine smoothly
grabbed the man’s jacket, steadying him. She gave Kay a wink and then sighed.

Lillarn gave Kay and Roan a sheepish smile, and then
delivered Erik a gentle push. “I have no idea what strings you pulled to get us
out of Vullohn’s class, but we’re definitely grateful.”

“Preceptor Ksena knew I was coming with Roan and Kay,” Erik
said, “and she requested I bring you two to assist with the first lesson.”

Lillarn blanched. “Ksena asked for me?” He shook his head.
“But she hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Erik replied.

“She kind of does,” Sabine corrected before turning to Roan
and Kay. “Welcome to Faith, you two. Best come inside the Rose. Preceptor Ksena
doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” Moving while speaking, she held open the
wooden doors.

“She doesn’t like much of anything,” Lillarn muttered under
his breath.

As Kay walked in, she asked Sabine, “Why do they call it
the Rose?” But as soon as she entered, Kay found her answer.

The expanse of the room glowed. The entire floor was
covered with perfectly smooth, warm-toned wood. Darker pieces interspersed
amongst the predominately lighter boards, forming an immense, complicated rose
pattern. The whole space gleamed like golden honey under candlelight.

“Oh,” was all Kay could manage.

A small woman stood in the center of the rose pattern. She
leaned heavily on a polished black cane. Her auburn hair was pulled up into an
elaborate and old-fashioned style atop her head, and a dark mole on her chin
seemed to enhance her pale beauty. Her chin was held high as she watched the
group enter. There was a palpable intensity in her gaze.

Preceptor Ksena rapped her cane on the floor, producing a
series of thunder cracks. “You are aspirants to Faith,” she declared as Roan
and Kay slowly approached. Her words were shaped by a thick accent, reminding
Kay of traders from the cold southern marches who had come by the orphanage.

“Lillarn,” Preceptor Ksena snapped.

Lillarn moved over quickly. “Yes, Preceptor?”

“I need someone to operate the wheels. You will do so.”

“The wheels? Why me?”

“Because I need Saer and Collesse to demonstrate how to
walk the Rose properly, and your instruction would only serve to damn our new
foundlings to mediocrity. But mostly, Lillarn Mattan, because I have told you
to do so. Now move. And keep up with my pace. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Preceptor,” Lillard responded sullenly. He walked
back toward the open door, but not before Kay saw him shoot Erik a look and
mouth the words, “I told you.” Erik grinned, but kept his eyes on the
preceptor.

“All aspirants come to me first. They come to me to walk
the Rose,” she said, tapping her cane rhythmically. “Walk the Rose to reach
me.” The woman smiled. “If you can.”

As she tapped out a steady rhythm, each of the inlaid
wooden pieces of the floor began to move. They slid in smooth motions, dark
spreading over light before being eclipsed again by dark. Each wooden section
moved sideways while shifting elevation. The entire design shifted between flat
symbol, towering blossom, globe-like bud, and then back again.

Kay was caught off-balance as she was shifted first
sideways by one piece, then carried forward and up by another. Each floorboard
seemed to move independently, forcing Kay to hold out her hands to maintain
equilibrium.

Trying to remain upright, Kay watched the preceptor. The
woman remained still while Kay moved dizzyingly around.

“Walk the Rose,” Preceptor Ksena called out.

From the corner of her eye, Kay saw Roan leap to a
light-colored platform, and then quickly onto another that slid him away and
around as the Rose grew.

Drawing a deep breath, Kay raised a foot, toes poised above
the floor. The ground beneath her did not slow, and she hesitated. The opposing
motions of pieces spread her legs wide and she fell backward, landing hard and
tumbling to the base, only to discover even the foundation now shifted.

Roan changed direction and headed for her, moving quickly
across the chaotic platforms. He came close and extended a hand. Kay reached
out, but the platform rushed him past. She gripped him momentarily, lurching
upward, before her added weight pulled him off balance and they both toppled.

The tapping cane continued as Preceptor Ksena spoke. “You,”
she intoned, pointing at Roan. “You focus so deeply on your goal that you
neglect the path that will take you there. And you,” she said while her glare
skewered Kay. “Your hesitation and doubt ruin you before you begin.”

Kay’s cheeks burned at the comment and she struggled to
regain her footing. Once upright, she gaped at the swirling lumber.

“Saer, Collesse,” Preceptor Ksena called out to Erik and
Sabine. “You are here as guides. Help our aspirants find their legs.”

Erik and Sabine moved onto the floor, Erik heading toward
Roan and Sabine to Kay. In amazement, Kay watched the girl step unerringly
across the floor. Sabine seemed to pay no attention to her footing, but also
instinctively knew each board’s direction. She used the lumber’s momentum to
propel herself across, up, and over obstacles.

In moments, Sabine stood before her. She held out a hand,
but even as she did, her feet continued moving. They worked constantly to
maintain her upper body’s perfect stillness.

Kay gaped.

Sabine smiled before blowing a long strand of red hair from
her face. “There is a pattern to the floor,” Sabine said. “Watch the Rose.”

Keeping her arms out to maintain balance, Kay tried to see
what Sabine spoke of. It did not take long. The floor’s design shifted in a
specific manner: bud to flower, full bloom, and then back. It was like watching
the flower flow through its days in mere moments.

Taking in the pattern, Kay nodded, but the floor was large,
its design covering too much space for her to fully grasp. “I see it, but what
now? What do I do?” Kay asked.

Sabine allowed the shifting floorboards to deliver her
before Kay. Then she recommenced her quick, easy steps. “It’s like learning the
steps to a dance,” Sabine said. “Forget about the preceptor for right now. Look
at the pattern around you. Right around your feet.”

Kay shifted her attention from the immense Rose and down to
the boards around her feet. She watched as they moved from white to dark, and
to white again. Again and again.

The fourth time the pattern shifted, Kay took a step, then
another. She slid, hopped, turned, and stepped again. At the end of her
movements, she was back where she had started, but she was still standing.

Sabine flashed a smile.

The preceptor must have seen her accomplishment, because
Ksena called out, “Saer, Collesse, that is enough coddling.”

Sabine pointed at the boards around Kay’s feet and winked
before retreating gracefully back the entrance. Kay saw Erik leave Roan,
exiting the same way.

The rhythm of the cane never faltered. “You walk the Rose
to reach me,” Preceptor Ksena repeated.

Once more, Kay set out across the floor. She got further
this time, making headway before a board slid forward, propelling her faster
than she anticipated. Kay scrambled with quick, desperate steps, but it was not
enough. She fell hard onto the unforgiving wood floor, the impact knocking the
wind from her.

“Up!” Preceptor Ksena called.

Kay fought to regain her feet, gulping for air. It took her
a while to finally get upright, moving her feet with concentration over the
wood. As she stood, her heart sank. Preceptor Ksean was in the center of the
Rose and Kay was all the way back by the door they had entered. Roan was far
ahead of her, but still not near the center.

Ksena smiled at them, but the look was such that Kay could
not tell if it was encouragement or mockery. “Walk the Rose,” she said, the
tapping never ceasing.

Biting her lip, Kay stepped forward.

***

By the time she left, Kay was sore and
exhausted, and she had never come close to touching the preceptor. Now, the sun
was beginning to set. Sabine and Lillarn had said goodbye, promising they would
see them later. Kay and Erik sat under a tall tree, waiting for Roan to finish
cleaning up.

All around them, the beautiful grounds were filled with
uniformed students reading, painting, sparring, and laughing.

Kay wanted this.

The power of the emotion threw her. She knew it was
foolish, but she’d never experienced anything like their joy before. Had never
even dreamed it. It was like the stone buildings and manicured grounds held a
magic she yearned to be a part of.

Erik gave her a knowing smile, and she couldn’t help but
smile back.

A pair of students walked past, waving to Erik, who waved
back. As they passed, Kay noticed their capes. Like Erik’s, theirs were torn
and faded, whereas all the others were bright white and perfect.

“Why is your cape torn?” she asked him.

Erik’s fingers touched the faded white fabric around his
throat. “It belonged to my father. He was a Razor here, a long time ago. I’m
what’s called a legacy,” he said. “There are a bunch of us here. You can always
tell a legacy by their cape. It’s always a little shabbier, but I think that
makes them a little more special.”

“Is that why you joined Faith? Because of your father?”

“Well, that, and because Faith is one of the greatest
places in the world, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Kay laughed softly. It felt good to laugh, but also strange
and foreign. Kay realized she had not laughed much since the fire. Perhaps Erik
was right about this place. “I have noticed,” she said.

“But there is something holding you back.”

His statement caught her by surprise. “I suppose there is,”
she admitted. “I like this place. I think I am beginning to love it, even. But
I can’t really commit my heart to it. Not until I’m really here.” Her tone
shifted as another thought crowded her mind. “And I’ve only got a month to make
that happen.”

“Don’t worry. Pamalia is the preceptor overseer for
admissions for a reason. She must have felt something in you to accept you.
Trust that.”

“I want to, but I just don’t know how,” Kay said. “I mean,
I don’t really know how to do anything. Everything feels so unbelievable and
new.”

“That’s why you’re here. It’s what most of your lessons
will focus on. The preceptors will try to teach you different ways to reach the
spirits, because there’s no one real way to do it.” He sat forward. “My father
used to tell me that all the spirits of every Razor that had come before, from
Aedan himself to those that fell this very day, are all out there. Good, bad,
ambitious, selfless, as varied in spirit as the men and women they had been in
life. And anyone could call out to any kind of spirit out there.” He paused
thoughtfully. “What matters most is that you call out with a reflection of your
truest self. And one will answer.”

Kay weighed his words. “Your father sounds very wise.”

“He was,” Erik said. He looked away, and when he spoke,
there was a sadness in his voice that tugged at Kay. “I miss him a lot of
days,” he said. “Every day, actually. He was killed in a duel three years ago.”

Kay laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Erik.”

He nodded while looking across the grounds to the massive
white structure of the main hall. “He saw me enter Faith before it happened,
though. So that’s something, at least.”

Kay took in Erik’s cape. The small holes and ragged edges
seemed to have a new dignity. “He would’ve been proud.”

“He is.”

Kay felt a surge of energy. Though it seemed to be
originating from Erik, she felt it around her, moving past like she stood in a
stream, feeling the passing current. Her eyes widened and he glanced back at
her.