Completed A Head Full of Ghosts

[Everleigh Ebersol]

The day was like any other: the sun rose and the world asked nothing of its inhabitants. The initiation of a promise couldn’t be felt in the air that was the same as it was yesterday. Everleigh awoke at the same time she usually did, or rather she got up and moved around at the same time she usually did.. Sleep had evaded her often in these weeks after the Dance. It was partly from the death of a initiate although it was this death that was propelling her forward. The future was what kept her awake.

Everleigh looked worse with each passing day. She had begun skipping meals, even skipping entire days without food. She hadn’t let up on her training regimen. She couldn’t. Even if she felt like passing out, she wouldn’t. Mind over matter. That’s what this all was. A test of her abilities, no, of her tenacity. She had to prove to herself that she would survive the consequences up ahead.

But first, she had to prove that the consequences would only hurt her. No one else, only her. For not the first time, she regarded another’s life higher than her own.

It had been a long while since her talk with Proctor Salak as it happened before the dance. The unfortunate circumstances surrounding two initiates being lost to the world could have been ideal in sneaking over to him and telling more details. It was too convenient which meant it was too risky. Everleigh had devised a slow course of action, one that couldn’t rouse suspicion. Especially the soon-to-be-returning Proctor Marianne Goetsch.

Everleigh was outside of Salak’s office, waiting for him. Today would be the day.

She would see if she could trust Salak to protect him. If he couldn’t then Everleigh wouldn’t be able to leave and her plan would fall apart.

Salak

 

[Salak]

The day was anything but ordinary.
He had dressed and readied himself but his mind was elsewhere. With the dead. Silently unraveling their killers identity.
He had waited for the attack on Vel Anir but it didn't come. Which felt worse than if it had come because it meant he had missed something and that meant he wasn't doing his job or his duty. It left him rather disheveled feeling. He barely had time to shave.

But time was short and Everleigh was waiting.
When he emerged from his office promptly on time he was sporting a new cane. Less ornate than his old one but serviceable. His green eyes scanned her face critically.

"You look exhausted Everleigh. Have you been sleeping well?"

His voice was toned with concern. If Everleigh was unable to keep herself healthy then her work would suffer and much else besides.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“Yes.” Everleigh lied while the dark circles under her eyes— ironically, somehow looking more purple than brown— told the truth. She wasn’t here to discuss sleeping schedules with Salak. It didn’t bother her. She didn’t know how to explain it other than some sort of deep rooted narcissism that told her she did better, was smart even, when deprived of sleep and food.

Everleigh knew she was receding back into her old habits. Loneliness was starting to become her best friend again.

“You have a new cane.” Everleigh commented, if only to say something else. She didn’t mind silence but something made her feel like she should speak right now. The first bell rang, the one that would wake most of the initiates at the Academy.

“I guess you looked at Miklan’s file?” She began to walk down the hall, keeping her brisk pace to a minimum to match Salak’s. There was no need to rush.

Salak

 

[Salak]

A lie but an acceptable one. She knows he's noticed. It was up to her to fix herself.
"Yes. I do." He said in regard to his new cane.
*Tack, tack, tack*
Salak despised small talk, mostly because he was terrible at it.
Mercifully it was brief.
"Of course. Remarkable ability but I'm concerned. The limitations, randomness of it and so young. Much can go wrong. Look at us for example."
Part of him felt like smiling but he didn't. His leg was worse the last few weeks. He was walking slower and grateful that Everleigh was accommodating him.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“Speak for yourself,” Everleigh said and raised her chin up higher. “If you ignore all the purple, I’m perfect.” There was a airiness to her tone that wasn’t usually there to show it was a joke. Whenever she felt like the worst always seemed to be the times when she had to act she was the best. If only she could get rid of those deep purple bags under her eyes and make her facade complete.

“Well, Miklan— Initiate Kesselring.” She had to stop referring to him by his first name. Even in private she had to get used to what he was now: a initiate, no longer the sweet five year old from two years ago. “Hasn’t been cleared to practice that magic yet. Or much magic whatsoever, even simple college spells. He’s more into….” Everleigh trailed off.

“Working out, I guess. Yeah. He’s very big on working out.” Salak would see for himself soon enough. Everleigh tried not to smile but failed. “His favorite thing to do right now is carry whatever he finds to be heavy and run around with it. He can do quite a few laps, you’ll see.”

Salak

 

[Salak]

If his eyes could roll out of his head he would have.
Everleigh was very funny he thought and betrayed a smirk briefly.
*Tack, tack, tack*
This boy, this child was going to test him. He knew it already. Especially if they were as... active as Everleigh made him out to be.
"That's good, the more control he has over the basics the more he can control his own abilities. Who has been instructing him? Not Harkenov?"
He had seen in Fennec what Harkenov did to Initiates, the evils she seeded in their minds and hearts. In the back of his mind he made it a new priority to keep this boy from her at all costs.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“Not Harkenov,” Everleigh confirmed, glad for that at least. “When Proctor Goetsch is back from maternity she will be looking after him, I believe.” Another telepath instead of Harkenov. That’s what it’ll look like under the Academy records. Everleigh knew Goetsch would want to be in charge of Miklan and it had little to do with the opportunity that his magic could grant others.

“So far, it’s been the usual. Me, Palahniuk, Moshfegh and Brodkey.” She paused. “Palahniuk usually focuses on older initiates but he was the proctor that went with others retrieve Initiate Kesselring from his family.”

They were outside now. The sounds of initiates practicing or talking could be heard although not one particular conversation or word was more clear than any other. Everleigh led Salak over to where she knew Miklan would be. There was some silence.

“He might call me Kaladriel.” She warned Salak. “I wish to be the only one to punish him if he does.”

Salak

 

[Salak]

"I, did not know you went by that name."
Salak said genuinely surprised to learn anything about Everleigh's private life.
"He'll fear no reproach from me on that regard. If he calls me Salad though."
He cast her another smirk.
"Well, that's a different matter."
His tutors were all mentally approved by him. Solid and with decent if not good moral character.
It was time. He gestured that he was ready and tried to put on a face that would not scare a child.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“I… I don’t.” She was flustered. How was she supposed to explain it all, the joke between the three of them? Even if she did explain she doubted she could convey the magnitude of feeling in her heart when Miklan would tease her in the way that reminded her so much of Zael.

“My name is Everleigh.” She mumbled. “Kaladriel is clearly a elven name. I’m Anirian.” Perhaps she should have said human, but then again her humanity was still up for debate. They could hear Miklan before seeing him. Rounding a corner and stepping out of the shade of one of the large lecture buildings they were out in the training grounds.

Few initiates were here, but those that were had focused expressions. Except Miklan, by far the youngest of the initiates gathered here. He whooped as he lifted a wooden bucket filled halfway with rocks above his head.

“Initiate Kesselring!” Everleigh shouted. The blonde boy paused, slowly turning in the direction of Everleigh’s voice. At first he looked confused but then upon seeing her, his expression brightened immediately.

“Kaladriel Whisperwind of Fal—“ the wooden bucket clattered to the ground, a slew of rocks tumbling out from it. Miklan shouted, stomping around as Everleigh fiercely twisted his ear, pulling down so that Miklan would hunch over. “Ow ow ow ow!”

“What do you say?”

“I’m sorry!” Everleigh twisted harder. “I’m sorry, proctor!” Miklan felt tears in his eyes seep through his blonde lashes and dribble down onto his cheeks. She didn’t let up. “I’m sorry, Proctor Ebersol!” A second more and then her hand was back at her side. Miklan sniffed, standing up and placing a hand over his right ear protectively. He gave Everleigh a look.

“Fix your face before I do.” Everleigh said. “Wipe your eyes. You’re meeting a proctor. Stand up straight, no slouching.” She instructed him as she led the blonde forward. “This is Proctor Salak. Hands out of your pockets, Miklan, for Kress sakes.” She lightly slapped the back of his head, looking down at Miklan with a sternness that was far more comforting than frightening. “Say hello.”

“Hello.” Everleigh put her hand on Miklan’s shoulder. “Hello, Proctor Salak.” Miklan corrected. He then shrugged off Everleigh’s hand. “Yew don’t gotta do that, I’m behavin.” His drawl poked out easily enough, now that he was no longer shouting or whining.

Salak

 

[Salak]

Salak filed that name the boy called Everleigh away in his vault for later. Seeing Everleigh like this was almost painful. He knew she cared deeply for the lad and now this place was making her hurt him. For the crime of loving her so much he forgot himself.
"Greetings Initiate Kesselring"
His stance was official. Cane in front with both hands on it.
Taking in the child he felt rather relaxed.
"I'll be checking in on you while Proctor Ebersol is away."
His voice was calm and measured. Distant.
"I am sure that we will get along without issue! Is that not correct Initiate?"
Being in Proctor mode always made him hate himself. He wasn't cruel, he wasn't hurtful unless he had to be and the more he did it the more he feared it would become him.
Still he had to keep up appearances, they were being watched by more than just those in the courtyard, he was certain.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“You’re leaving?” Miklan said to Everleigh, looking up at her immediately.

“You were asked a question.” Miklan huffed, clearly wanting to do something with his arms but keeping them firmly at his sides as he kept his shoulders straight and squared.

“No issues, Proctor Salak!” Everleigh sighed. Well, he was close enough, she supposed, to answering Salak’s question properly. Miklan seemed to focus more on Salak’s cane than his face. Everleigh wasn’t sure if that was a bad or good thing. The initiate pointed at it.

“Does that turn into a sword?”

Salak

 

[Salak]

Intriguing idea.
Rather than hiding a weapon simply transmute it.
He was confident the spell existed and he could learn it.
Something to think about during lunch today.
"No it does not Initiate."
Salak fought back a sneer.
It reminded him that he had to find some way to punish Fennec for attacking him and if it hurt Proctor Harkenov all the better.
"Tell me, how are your studies coming along?"
His green eyes held veiled interest in the lad. If he was going to look out for him they'd need to be familiar.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Miklan opened his mouth, surely about to ask another question, but Salak was faster. This question had Miklan’s blue eyes shining with youth and hope and perhaps a little bit of hoping to impress. He flexed his biceps, although no matter what he did, his biceps didn’t bulge like his father’s or even his older brother’s.

Kress-gosh-dangit, his biceps didn’t even look like Proctor Purple! She had bigger arms than he did! But that was no matter. He was still growing. And he’d keep at his martial training and muscle building. Then when he was an adult, he’d be yoked as heck.

“Okay, arms need some work.” Miklan stopped flexing for a moment. “I’m pretty fast though. Wanna see me run a lap?”

Salak

 

[Salak]

"No I don't."
Salak returned simply.
Well this was something. Lad was eager, that's good but perhaps it was too early to expect him to be bright.
He looked at Everleigh in a way that seemed to say *Why is he like this?*
"I meant your Academics, can you read and write Initiate Kesselring?"
Such skills were vital and while he was still young he was not too young to start. In fact Salak would consider it a minor oversight if he had not already begun.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

The light in his blue eyes quickly died out, like water being poured over the last surviving ember from a fire made the night before. Miklan frowned. Everleigh frowned alongside him. Miklan said nothing. Everleigh nudged him.

“I can write my name.” Miklan said, beginning to fidget by switching his weight from one foot to the other. “First and last.”

“He’s from Arnim.” Everleigh said. “His parents were likely illiterate as well.”

“Don’t say nothin’ bad about—“

“I’m stating facts. Your mother definitely couldn’t read or write. Did your father do any paperwork on the ranch?” Miklan’s face scrunched up in thought.

“Sometimes. With George. George was teachin’ Dimitri how to do all that fancy stuff and I was gonna take over the stuff with the cows an’ bulls an’ livestock an’ killin’ an’ tannin’ and—“

“Back west, illiteracy is normal. Even in central Vel Anir, it’s normal.” Everleigh reminded Salak, as if admitting that Miklan was still learning the basics was somehow a flaw that needed to be hidden. “He’s learning his sight words and soon enough he’ll be able to recognize all one-hundred-and-twenty—“

“THERE’S OVER ONE HUNDRED?!”

“Shush. Idiot.” She swatted the back of Miklan’s head once again.

Salak

 

[Salak]

Salak raised a hand in peace.
"I understand."
He did. He was one of the first among his own family to learn. So he wasn't going to give the lad a hard time.
"Still you can write your name. That's a start."
He fished his writing tools from his robes and from the small satchel produced a nub of white chalk, presenting it to Miklan.
"Show me on the wall, there behind me."
A deceptively simple test.
Can he obey, can he decide for himself how big to make the writing, will he acknowledge that while it is defacing the Academy that it is easily fixed and by no means permanent?
In essence.
Does the boy think?

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“Okay— I mean, yes Proctor!” Miklan took the chalk and easily went to the wall. He did not think. He wrote his name. A very large M with very straight lines. He lined the ‘i’ up to it well. Even the ‘k’ and the ‘l’ were relatively neat. The ‘a’ was sloppy, looking more like a ‘o’ with a horizontal tail. The ‘n’ wasn’t even and slanted down. Then he began his last name, far more sloppy and slanted and uneven than his first.

The writing wasn’t too large but larger than if it had been on parchment.

He had spelt his name wrong, adding a second ‘r’ to spell Kresselring (which was how it sounded with his heavy drawl) instead of Kesselring.

“Finished!” Miklan didn’t even check his work, just turned towards Salak and beamed at him. Everleigh sighed.

“He’s young.” She said meekly to Salak. “He’s only been here a few months.” A reminder of how long it had been since her and Zael went their separate ways.

Salak

 

[Salak]

"Just getting an idea of where he is."
He told Everleigh.
It was disappointing. The lad in fact could not spell his own name but still. He was new and young as she said.
He didn't hide his frown as he walked over to correct the spelling with a wipe of his robe.
"Only one "R" in Kesselring Initiate."
Though his face showed disapproval his voice was soft.
"Now, do it again."
Returning to Everleigh he smiled.
"He can do as he's told. That's more than most here."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Miklan looked at the name he had written, now fixed by Proctor Salak.

“Well, they just gotta know my first name.” He said but did as Proctor Salak said. He wasn’t going to complain about having to write one less letter in his name. It made it easier for him to write. Miklan went back to work in writing his name, the correct way, as neatly as possible.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Everleigh said quietly. “The Academy doesn’t need more dogs. There’s plenty of us doing as we’re told already.” She turned to look at Salak. “If you’re only worry is his obedience….” There was an edge in her voice. Had she chosen wrongly in who to ask for help?

Salak

 

[Salak]

"You mistake my meaning." Salak replied in a hushed tone, that the lad might not overhear
"He listens and cares, that is good. One scarcely benefits without the other."
He took her fear to heart though. So decided to elaborate further.
"He can take correction when is wrong and gladly so. These are good habits to encourage in him and yet he is confident in his strengths. You saw how eager he is to show off, impress, but in his own way."
He turned back to look towards the lad.
"I like him."
He wasn't smiling, his face was cold. The courtyard was full of eyes. He had to appear disdainful from a distance. Not seem attached though he felt it might already be too late for that.
Earnestness had a way of tugging at his near dormant heart.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“How could you not?” Everleigh said with a faint smile as she watched Miklan finish the ‘g’ and then turn back to look triumphantly at the two of them. There was something beautiful and sublime about his eyes in that moment. Everleigh didn’t know if it was the sun somehow shinning just right or maybe the breeze the blew by to bring his blonde bangs out of Miklan’s eyes— but it was there.

Something so special that waited inside Miklan, only showing itself through his eyes in moments as rare as this particularly second in a completely ordinary day.

“What else do yew want me to write?” Miklan shouted, waving the chalk in the air. “I’m not spellin Everlaay though. Too many letters.”

“Even if he’s a brat, how could you not like him?” Everleigh clarified.

Salak

 

[Salak]

"Can you write my name then Initiate?"
Salak asked while he watched Everleigh closely.
Her face softened. Her eyes longed. If he did not know better...
"What of the boys family? Where are they now?"
Again he kept his voice down to not let Miklan hear.
Why did she love him so?
Who was he to her truly?
As always he had more questions than answers and the more he learned, the more concerned he became.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“Of course I can!” Miklan said, not realizing he was lying. He could not spell Salak’s name. His k’s and c’s confused him, even when Everleigh tried to explain why the letters sounded the same. That said, he turned back to the wall. He’d start with writing the word proctor, a word that he had memorized as much as his first name.

“When Proctor Palahniuk and a group of initiates went to Arnim to retrieve Miklan they found the entire place to be overran by these strange creatures that are native to volcanic lands of Shekath.” Everleigh frowned deeply. “Someone with strong magic had transformed the all the cows in Kesselring Ranch into those monsters. Some people underwent the same change. Miklan doesn’t know this but his oldest brother was killed in that twisted form. Mathias and Kelly Arnim are currently facing financial ruin as the ranch is destroyed and all their livestock nearly gone.”

Miklan turned back, having written “Proctor Salack.” He was beaming again as if he had spelled it correctly.

“He has no idea how serious it is, the situation back in Arnim, even months later.”

Salak

 

[Salak]

"I understand."
Salak's voice was kind and gentle then. It clearly distressed Everleigh to speak of such things. He did too fully understand. This would not be the first nor last Initiate to be found through such a tragedy. Though he despised it this was the best place for him.
Worse was these creatures she spoke of, transformed from cattle. He looked at the lad with fresh eyes. Such power, any who did not respect it would be insane.
He walked back to the wall and again corrected the spelling with a wipe from his robe.
"There is no "C" in my name Initiate. Do it again and then you can show me how fast you can run."
Encouragement always went better than threats he felt.
When he returned to Everleigh he frowned.
"Thank you for trusting me with him. I won't betray it."
He was beginning to understand what was asked of him. This child could bring the Academy to it's knees in days, hours even.
There was also a deeper meaning he suspected.
He was the Venomancer after all and his ability to pacify quickly was almost next to none. Should the lad become uncontrollable while Everleigh was away, it may fall onto him to act in such a way that did not harm the lad.
His green eyes held resolve unshaking.
"I mean it Everleigh."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Miklan turned around, looking at the words he had written. He looked back over his shoulder.

“You sure there ain’t—“

“There isn’t.” Everleigh interrupted immediately, raising her voice. Miklan looked back at the word, suspicious. He clearly thought there was and it was needed. Regardless, he began to rewrite Proctor Salak’s name correctly, going much faster than before. After all, once he finished this he could really impress Proctor Salak!

Everleigh turned towards Salak. So many things unspoken between them yet there was still a strong enough understanding. Everleigh felt a twinge of guilt. There was a part of her that was completely fooling Salak. But she had to. She saw no other way in this. There were things she had to do, it was just a unfortunate circumstance that she had to sneak around so much.

“Of course you won’t betray me.” Everleigh said, looking away from Salak and over towards Miklan. “Because if he gets hurt, you won’t just be dealing with my wrath.” If anything happened to Miklan, she was certain there would be hell to pay and not from her own hands. “I must get going. I’ve stood out here too long already.” Without waiting for Salak’s reply, she was briskly walking off.

Miklan came running up to Proctor Salak, holding out the chalk. Somehow, Miklan managed to use half of it.

“Okay you wanna see me run with rocks or no rocks?” The energy was overflowing as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Salak