Relic Heirs: Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight: Lead on

When they met, standing astride opposite poles of the earth, it was clear they were sisters, carved by the same hand, with only a smile and tears to differentiate their features. Such a sight could’ve been a marvel, and yet the only thing inspired was fear. 

The stink and sting of her day’s start clung to Briddy like the sweat on her back as she stalked her way out of the dunes, passing several of her classmates on the way. Her mood seemed to precede her like a storm front, because they scuttled out of her way like animals before a wildfire, and she was part of the way to the dorms when she realized she had no idea where she was going. 

    Looking around, she saw a cluster of students off in the distance, though the color of their Shrouds was that of a dark blue, fading to black. Swallowing her trepidation at the unknown, Bridget made her way over, smoothing the front of her shirt and tucking back the chunks of hair that had escaped her horsetail under her brother’s clip. 

    “You need something greencoat?” One of the group called out as she got close. 

    “The Palisade. Could you direct me towards it?” 

    “Cantina’s back that way, you probably passed it if you’ve been walking in a straight line.” An older boy with wavy brown hair gestured languidly, in the direction Briddy had come from. “Look for the building with all the columns on top.” 

    Nodding her thanks, Bridget turned to leave, but after only a few steps, a voice said “Wait.”

Looking back over her shoulder, she saw a slight girl with short, pale hair peering at her. 

“You look familiar. Do I know you?” 

Whipping her head back around so hard her hair smacked her cheek, Briddy shook her head.    “You’re the first upperclassman I’ve met. Thank you for the directions!” She hastened away, breaking into a jog as her uniform caught the air, flapping behind her. A short distance away, she slowed to a walk, unable to keep the pace as her legs burned and cried out in protest from their earlier abuse. 

Searching her surroundings, Briddy spotted a building with columns sprouting out of its top, creating an open, but roofed, area that was filled with a multitude of colored Shrouds, milling about like brightly colored birds. Ducking into the wide double doors, Briddy walked down a short stone hallway that immediately led to a staircase, with no other obvious doors or openings leading off the passage. 

As she climbed the stairs, she was nearly barreled over by a girl darting down the opposite way, a piece of fruit stuffed in her mouth and a pile of papers in her arms. 

“Sorry, are you ok?” The girl’s uniform was a blush of red to white, and her large eyes scanned over where Briddy had plastered herself against the wall to get out of her way. 

“I’m fine. Is the Palasaide up there?” 

“Oh, yeah. For now anyway.” Seeing Briddy’s confused look as she made her way down, the girl tossed over her shoulder “Don’t be surprised if it’s not up there by lunch.” Without further explanation, she hustled off. 

Shaking her head, Bridget climbed the rest of the stairs, clutching at the railing as her calves complained. Exiting the stairwell, bright morning light hit her once again, and she needed to blink several times to take in the crowd of students hovering about. A collection of round tables, all made of different woods were scattered about, identical chairs seated around them carved from the same material. Overhead, circular fans turned, their wide blades fashioned from some giant plant whose fronds were shaped like enormous teardrops. Their movement sent a warm breeze across the collective group, and Briddy supposed that a warm breeze was better than none with the number of bodies packed into the space. 

She spotted several of the people from her Weapon Proficiency class around, seated at different tables or hovering near the long buffet of stone that was at the back of the open room. Dishes of vibrant fruit, crusty bread, and crispy meat were backed by a glorious view of rippling sand, creating an ocean of dunes as far as the eye could see. As she made her way towards the food, Briddy’s eye was caught by a wild gesture and followed it back down to its owner, Niles. 

He was seated with a decently sized group on the right-hand side, gesturing empathetically as he spoke. Briddy didn’t recognize any of the people sitting around him and tried to scoot past without being seen, but as soon as she got close his eyes shot up, his arm dropping from whatever movement he had been recalling. Eyes narrowing, he leaned in, saying something to those around him, and several heads turned to look at her, various expressions spanning from disgust to open curiosity. 

She met the eyes of a young man with hair coiled in golden corkscrews, his lip curling as the looked her over. Saying nothing as she walked past, she kept his gaze until he turned back into the group. 

“I see what you mean.” She heard him mutter, but Briddy kept going, holding her chin high until she reached the long stone table. Even as she stood there, innocuously looking over a bowl piled with different fruit, she could feel the itch between her shoulder blades of what felt like a dozen eyes, glaring daggers at her back. It wasn’t hard to figure out what Niles had been reenacting, but that didn’t cushion the blow of those searching looks that those around him had given her. What was she supposed to have done, just lie down and let him win because he was a ‘lancer prodigy’?

“Um…” Someone said nearby.

Her eyes cut away from the fruit bowl, focus narrowing in on another student standing nearby, wearing the same red flush as the girl that had nearly trampled her earlier. 

“Sorry,” The boy put his hands up “It’s just if you’re not grabbing anything, could you move on?” He gestured behind him, where a small queue had begun to form. 

“Oh.” Briddy snapped her head back around to the pile of fruit, grabbing a piece without looking and hastening away from the table. She could feel Niles and his cronies watching her as she walked across the room, face burning from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. It felt to her like with each step, the whispers rose, different stories about her family or the early morning class rising to a buzz, threatening to drown out everything else. She needed to get out of there and felt driven towards the stairs, hastily making an exit and leaving her peers behind. 

Once she left the building, her breath burst from her in great gasps, fighting to escape a hold she hadn’t realized she was gripping it in. Something wet leaked through her fingers, and she looked down at the piece of fruit she had grabbed, juice dripping through its thick rind and down the fingers that were squeezing it. 

By the time she found her way to the next class, following a crowd of students buzzing about a “Somnasium”, she had consumed the battered fruit and wiped her hands on her shorts. The orange had been good despite its bruises, but she still felt regret at ruining her breakfast. 

Circling the exterior of a large, round building of white stone and a roof of layered, ochre tiles, Bridget followed her classmates to a wing jutting out its back, squat and square but made of the same materials. The first thing she noticed as she stepped in the door was that the ground underfoot was soft, letting her feet sink into the floor a solid inch or so before stopping. Curling into circular tufts, a grey fog clung to the ground before climbing up the walls like garden ivy, sweeping across the four rows of desks laid out across the wide room. 

At the head of the room was a large desk made of pale wood, marred across its surface with thousands of scratches and scuffs. Perched on top was a woman with blood-red hair that fell to her waist, dressed in a suit of grey silk with a white blouse underneath. Her doll-like face was scrunched in an appraising manner as she looked at those filing in the door, unabashedly staring at each one in complete silence through long lashes. After a period of shuffling and glances, students began to take desks, sitting down and kicking at the solid mist that was crawling everywhere.    

Briddy grabbed a spot near the middle, focusing on the ashen wood of her desk and trying to avoid eye contact with anyone nearby. A few moments passed, then a few more, and she found herself beginning to wonder if she should have brought one of her textbooks with, but reminded herself that none had been marked for this class. 

“Arken, Parvati.” A husky voice slid across the room, raising Briddy’s chin as though a finger had been slid under it. 

“Here, M’am.” Shining, a silver arm raised its hand slightly into the air. 

With a graceful nod, the woman at the front of the room moved on to “Bikir, Claris” and continued taking stock of her class. Briddy could feel herself sinking slightly in her seat, as though being small would help the impending judgement once the teacher reached her name. 

“Sanlaurant, Niles.” 

Bridget stifled a small groan as a hand shot up near the front of the room, hovering straight up in the air for more than a few moments. “Sanlaurant, Tucker.” Was called next, but this time no one responded. More than a few heads craned around, and sure enough, there was an empty desk near the front of the room. 

“He’s probably just lost, M’am, Tuck tends-”

“My Lady.” With a swift smile, the ruby-haired woman looked over at Niles, her eyes glittering. “You had my title on your schedules, no? I expect you to use it.” Without waiting for him to reply, she continued rattling off names, and Briddy glanced over to see an angry blush creeping over Niles’ round face. 

“Vasily….hmmm.” Those large eyes swept across the room, fixating on where Bridget had resumed sliding down into her desk. 

“Here.” 

“I’ve taught your siblings before, Miss Vasily. I cannot say it was a pleasant experience.”

“I’m not like them, my Lady.” Briddy looked away. 

“Oh, I very much doubt that.” Although the teacher’s voice was mild, there was something unreadable hidden within its tones. Whatever secreted opinion hid within was interrupted when the door at the back of the class swung open, admitting a dark blonde boy in the general course’s grey uniform. He took a moment, shaking sand from his head and emptying out his pockets, which were also full. 

“Mister Sanlaurant, I presume?” Standing up from the desk and smoothing out the silk of her pantsuit, the Lady looked the latecomer over. “Taking a morning dip in the dunes, were we?” 

“Yep. Something like that.” Looking up at her, the boy gave an easy grin. “Got a bit lost.” 

“See that it does not happen again. Take a seat.” 

Without needing further instruction, the boy loped to the front, running his fingers through the shaggy blonde hair that hung almost to his shoulders. Languidly, he tossed himself onto the chair and leaned back, looking up at the figure at the head of the room. 

“Since you’re all here, darlings, we may as well begin. Welcome to Common Scenario Training. As you should know, I am the Lady Carmine,” A bell went off somewhere in Briddy’s mind, but she couldn’t quite place it “And the purpose of this class is to put you into common situations that you might find yourself in should a Guild choose to take you as a member. Should you excel, you may find yourself in the Somnasium proper next year, training for specialized situations, but for now,  you stay in the annex.” 

Looking over her class, the red-headed Lady asked “Who is familiar with Cells?” 

Briddy wasn’t shocked to see Niles’ fist fly straight up into the air, along with another few hands scattered amongst the group. She was vaguely familiar with the term, the impression that she had gotten from stories told by her brother and sister was that they were something like study groups, but that wasn’t enough for her to form a confident answer. 

“Miss Araken?”

“Cells are usually groups of guild members with complementary abilities sent out to take on missions that are either too specialized for solo hunters or when more powerful members are not available.” Parvati’s voice was steady but soft, and yet it seemed to carry with perfect clarity across the room. 

“Very good. Most of you, should you be contracted by a guild, will find yourself in an assignment such as this. We find it useful to start training you as part of a unit early. Today in class we shall go over different mission archetypes and get you situated into your cells.” Lady Carmine took a deep breath, delicate nostrils flaring as though steeling herself for something unpleasant. 

    “I do not.” She began, drawing out the words, “Care to hear your complaints about who is from where or is in what course. These assignments are immutable outside of an emergency, just as they would be in a professional environment.”

    Something hard struck Briddy in the shoulder, a small area of her back twinging in response. Glancing down, she saw a pebble sinking into the fog, and glanced behind her to see where it had come from. Not finding any immediate culprits, she quickly turned back to the teacher. 

    “Luckily for you, these assignments can change after your first year, as the school learns more about your individual abilities.” Delicate face grim with the weight of memory, the teacher added “Be thankful it’s not your life in their hands just yet, darlings.” 

    “Now then.” With those two words, Lady Carmine clapped her hands, and the desks underneath the class vanished. Briddy, who had been leaning forward on her elbows, a leg tucked beneath the other, managed to swing her arms wildly and keep her balance, stumbling to the side. Straightening up, she saw that her peers were in various stages of standing, it appeared as though most of them had been dumped unceremoniously onto the floor. 

“Once you get your paper, find your groups and talk about who will lead your cell.” Holding her hands up in front of her, the teacher tilted her head forward, whispering something into her palms before slowly folding them open and closed in smooth strokes. After the second time they opened, folded pieces of paper fluttered out, short strips that were creased down the middle, the sides flapping like the slow wings of a butterfly. Spilling out of Lady Carmine’s dainty fingertips, the papers flitted their way across the classroom, filling the air for a brief moment before descending towards the class. 

Bridget reached an arm up, extending a finger for her slip to land on, and sure enough, a piece floated its way down, landing in a perfect triangle with two points resting on her digit. Lowering her hand and unfolding the note, she saw that it was emblazoned simply with the number ‘four’ in broad, black ink. Looking around, she saw other students glancing at their papers before beginning to mill about, looking for those that had matching pieces. She turned towards the back of the room, showing her slip to a couple of people who gave her inquiring glances, but her attention was caught by a tall figure snatching her chunk of paper out of their air like a cat swats a fly. 

“Gail!” Briddy walked over, waving. 

Tilting her head to glance at the crumpled note, long brown hair spilling across her shoulder, the other girl glanced up and gave Bridget a wolfish grin. “Now you say hi.” She said in an admonishing voice. 

“What?” 

“Earlier, I tried to get your attention and you ignored me.” 

So that was where the pebble had come from. Briddy swallowed the guilt she felt at not paying better attention to the rest of the roll call. She had been so busy grappling with her nerves that she had completely missed that Gail was in the class with her. 

“I-ah, sorry.” She murmured, rubbing at the back of her neck. 

“What group?” A girl with a fox-like smile sidled her way in between them, glancing back and forth between them. 

“Four,” Bridget said, at the same time that Gail raised her wrinkled paper, emblazoned with the same number. Fighting to keep down her excitement, Briddy shot a smile towards the vulpine girl, who had already turned to move on, her note bearing a ‘one’.

Turning back to Gail, she found the lithe girl studying her, those sharp, predator’s features softened in thought as her brow relaxed. Idly, slim fingers toyed with the end of one of her braids, wrapping the green string around the tips before releasing it. Undaunted, Briddy looked back at her, slowly raising an eyebrow that the other woman didn’t seem to notice in her reverie. 

“Four? Four!” A voice called out from across the room. 

“Over here!” Bridget responded, waving her hand back and forth over her head. After a moment, a head of shaggy dark blonde hair ducked out of the throng, followed by a long, awkward body loping its way towards them. The young man who had come in late made his way into their presence, wearing the green and grey of the general course, and a wide grin spread across his squarish jaw. 

“Sorry about that, bit of a mess over there.” He gestured with his chin over his shoulder, brown eyes dancing. “My cousin shouldn’t be far behind, he’s with us too.” 

“Cousin?” Briddy tilted her head. 

Skulking through the path that the lanky boy had left in the crowd, Niles stepped forward, scowling as he noticed Briddy standing there. Ignoring him, she turned towards the sandy-headed young man and held out a hand. “Bridget Vasily.” She said. 

“Tuck Sanlaurant.” He gripped her hand with a comically large one, squeezing it once before letting go. Briddy could feel herself relaxing as he smiled at her, the kind that filled up his brown eyes with a gentle light and pulled one out of her as well. “I believe you’ve already met Niles?” 

As quickly as the warmth from meeting Tuck had come, it fled as she looked over at the grimacing face hovering near his shoulder. “We’ve met.” 

Several long, loud claps filled the air, and the buzz of conversation cut off heads swiveling back towards the pale desk at the head of the room. 

“You seem to be mostly sorted darlings, so discuss who’s going to lead amongst yourselves and then notify me once you reach a decision.” Lady Carmine purred in her throaty tones. 

Across the classroom, a hand went up, and the teacher slowly acknowledged it with a regal nod. 

“What if we can’t decide?” Someone said, the arm going down. 

“Sort that out with the cell, just don’t kill each other while you do it.” Walking around behind her desk, the lady took a seat gracefully, snapping her fingers. With the sound, a puff of that curling grey fog appeared, leaving behind a porcelain tea set after it dissipated. Briddy cocked her head, examining the cups that had poofed into existence. How was Lady Carmine doing that? She had never seen someone do magic without the Shaping Words unless they bore a relic, and she neither saw nor sensed the presence of one anywhere nearby. 

Turning back to the group, Briddy opened her mouth to ask about the mysterious ability their teacher seemed to possess, but Niles, seeing she was about to speak, immediately jumped in first. 

“I think I should lead.” Bridget had to swallow another groan. Of course he did. 

Blithely, Niles continued, “Clearly I have the best ability out of our bunch, and a natural talent for strategy. Tuck, you agree?” He turned to the lanky boy. 

“Hmmm, sure.” Tuck mildly replied, shrugging. 

“Gail?” 

No response came, and the cell looked over at her, finding Gail lost in watching a pair of girls from another group arm wrestling for leadership. 

“Gail!” Niles marched over, vigorously waving a hand in front of her eyes. 

“Eh?” Gail caught his hand between two of her fingers, pushing it easily out of her face.  

“I’m going to be the leader.” 

“Oh. That’s fine.” Gail turned back to the tussle, briefly glancing over at Tuck and Briddy. 

“Well, that’s settled.” Niles turned back towards them, a triumphant smirk splitting across his face. 

It didn’t escape Briddy’s notice that he hadn’t asked for her vote, but she just shrugged, used to being overlooked. “Lead on.” She said. Not acknowledging her comment, Niles marched up towards where Lady Carmine was sipping on her tea, his chest puffed out in victory. Briddy watched as he spoke, using those over-elaborate gestures. It might’ve been her imagination, but the teacher’s red lips seemed to purse after a moment, her eyes sweeping over their newly formed cell. 

Whatever her thoughts on their choice in leader, she didn’t have time to voice them, as soon other individuals came strolling up to declare themselves as the ones chosen by their groups. After a few moments of taking stock, she nodded, standing and gesturing the students back to their cells with a few flaps of her hands. 

“It seems you’ve all made your decisions, so it’s time to end class and give you your first exercise as a Cell, darlings.” She pointed a hand to the door, two fingers extended out, that she casually flipped up and down. “Quite simply, please leave the classroom.” 

Where she had gestured, a large, amorphous ball of translucent brown goo now blocked the doorway, spilling over the sides and out into the room. The students looked at the doorway, and then at each other, waiting for someone to make the first move. 

“I’ve got this,” Gail growled, her face lit up with anticipation. Lips moving wordlessly, she clenched her hands into fists, slowly closing and reopening them as a layer of green dust began to appear on her skin. 

Cutting in, Lady Carmine’s voice said. “Ah, no Relics this time darlings. You’re welcome to try magic, but Hennigan doesn’t want you summoning until he’s had a chance to take stock.” 

Disappointed, Gail’s fists fell like a wilting flower, though across the room more than one set of hands returned to their owner’s sides. 

“Magic then?” A girl’s voice said uncertainly. Several cries went up as voices began calling out spells, flames, stones, and even Lady Carmine’s desk flying towards the blocked doorway. The latter burst into dull mist as it made contact, the stones sliding off harmlessly and the flames sizzling slightly, leaving behind a sickly sweet smell. 

Their teacher didn’t seem to mind the loss of her furniture, indeed she clicked her fingers, and an identical desk poofed into existence, landing in front of her in the exact same spot. 

“Well, magic clearly isn’t working,” Niles said, his tone authoritative. 

“What do you suggest we do, punch it?” The fox-like girl from earlier said. 

“Yeah!” Tuck replied, full of enthusiasm. 

“Tuck don’t-” Niles began in his nasal voice, but the young man had already walked his way over, winding back his arm and unleashing a blow to the brown sludge. A crack filled the room as his fist met it, sounding as though he had struck a stone rather than seeping goo, and Tuck pulled his hand back, wincing and shaking his fingers. 

“Punching probably isn’t a good idea.” He murmured, making his way back over. 

“I could’ve told you that.” Niles scolded. “Really, were you even thinking?” 

“Are you ok?” Briddy cut across, gesturing towards the fingers Tuck nursed against his chest. 

“I’ll be alright. A quick Vigni’ll have me straight as sand.” He gave her a quick smile. 

“So magic doesn’t work, neither does force, and those of us with relics are not allowed to use them.” Parvati’s cool voice floated across the hum of conversation around them. “How are we supposed to leave?” 

Bridget looked over at the exit to the room, which a few people were still half-heartedly striking and casting at, to no avail. It didn’t make sense for a teacher to just give them an impossible task right away, but nothing they tried seemed to be working. Unless…

She took a step forward, watching a boy kick at the goo. “Has anyone tried just…leaving?” She asked. Niles goggled at her. “That would be the point, Bridget. Were you not listening to anything that happened in the past few minutes? If you actually want to succeed in the field you need to-” 

Briddy walked to the front of the class, raising a hand and gently laying it on the brown mass. With just the barest hint of gentle pressure, her fingers slid in, and without looking back, she stepped the rest of the way through. 

Some things didn’t need magic or relics to work, just a little bit of observation and a gentle touch.