Completed The meaning of power.

[Salak]

Perhaps more than anyone a spy knows the meaning of honesty. The shadow serves to conceal, hide it's knowledge. This is why he elected to have his lessons on power conducted outside, in the woods beyond the Academy walls and in the clear light of an only slightly cloudy day.
Here in this wildness a truth all its own was apparent to any who cared to observe it. The truth of death waited to reveal itself in the passive danger of seemingly idle plants and warm coloured fungus.

This was not the lesson. Truth alone is meaningless, only when it is mingled with power did it have any use.

Salak pondered this as he led the class of Initiates along the overgrown trail until they came to a clearing in which a broken cairn lay in ruin.
Around the stone circle he bid them gather, facing inward to each other while he walked outside the circle around them.

"In this place a long time ago the last worshippers of a now forgotten religion sought refuge here."

The land was overgrown with flowers and nettles that clung to the fabric of his blue robes. He walked on, letting the plants rip tiny tears in his clothing.

"But no matter how they prayed, how they begged, how they sacrificed their own children their god was silent."

A bird, a robin flew from the undergrowth up into the branches chased only by its own nature.

"Eventually when those that pursued them came there were but two of the worshippers remaining. An infant and the adult who killed all the others to protect them."

Somewhere in the deep of the wood a branch fell and clattered to the earth in a soft sound.

"Horrified by what they saw and fearful of one who slew so many the pursuers set upon them as one might a savage beast."

His leg ached, he had forgone the comforts of tea. It was a day to remember pains past.

"A comforting end to the story would be that at this moment their prayers were answered. That their god was moved by this love to protect them but it didn't happen like that. They were torn limb from limb, adult and child both."

He stepped over a hewn stone now overgrown with moss.

"You are all blessed with power but power alone is meaningless, unfocused. You have ability, breeding even great names behind you but what is ahead of you?"

A spider dropped over the lip of his hood and hung there before his eyes. With a twirl of his cane he captured it in its own web and cast it aside.

"It is time to learn what power really means to you and cast aside your doubt."

He stopped behind one of them and placed his hand upon their shoulder.

"Speak now and be known. Tell those gathered in this forgotten place you secrets, your soul. Give your heart to the stones and earth but be warned."

The moment grew tense, he let it hang for a bit, overhead the canopy gave sound, the sound of leaves in wind and breath held.

"To lie in this place is to invite evil into you. It will take root deep inside and never let you go. Even unto death it will follow you into the dark beyond until time ends and reality fails."

Again he held the moment as those with him took in his words. I did not matter that they believed him. It mattered only that they answered and answered with truth.

"Speak!"

 

[Fennec]

The shoulder upon which his hand did clutch shifted stiffly beneath him, diminutive in both stature and height. Fennec stood in her usual silence, the glower of her eyes having hardened beneath his palm. The gaze that had looked upon the cairn with curious interest now detached from what stood before her to filter the boiling abhorrence of his touch. Even through the layers of her own grey and black robes and cloak, it was far too close.

Speak now and be known. Tell those gathered in this forgotten place you secrets, your soul. Give your heart to the stones and earth but be warned.

Some snickers were shared around the hushed circle. Salak's first choice had been an ironic one and the others could see the small Initiate's jaw line draw taut.

To lie in this place is to invite evil into you. It will take root deep inside and never let you go. Even unto death it will follow you into the dark beyond until time ends and reality fails.

Fennec considered those words with a hint of envy. Anywhere dark and beyond this place was preferred, regardless of the pervasive company of evil. She could hear another whisper something to the extent that the evil already had taken her long ago.

Speak!

More quiet laughter.

Fennec bristled, her shoulders tightening beneath his grip like a ticking time bomb counting down to eruption. She hated this. Hated him. Hated all of them.

 

[Houri]

"What kind of secrets?" One girl asked, confused.

"I like cake!" Another shouted, earning several laughs.

"Penelope fancies Marvin!"

"Leander kisses posters of himself in his room!"

"Proctor Choal is gay!"

More and more "secrets" were shouted out, encouraged by their classmates laughter. Houri was struggling to determine if there were some truths there or if they were shouting the first stupid thing that came to mind.

"This is lame!" One of the initiates shouted and others snickered, some even murmured their agreement. Houri glanced across at the boy who had dared to say anything and rolled her eyes; of course it would be Percival. He had the wrong assumption he was one of the most powerful initiates in their class, but Houri suspected even Marci could inflict some damage on him.

Okay, maybe not Marci, but the point stood.

She glanced back across to where the Proctor had his hands clamped quite firmly on Fen's poor shoulders and shot the girl a sympathetic grimace.

 

[Salak]

Salak's eyes fell unfavourably on those who had spoken out of turn.
Some at least feigned contrition but by no means did all of them. He expected this kind of bother but hoped it would not appear this soon.

"Percival Pirian if you open your mouth again out of turn you will be made to stand on one foot in the Main Hall and recite the names on the Wall of Remembrance all day every day until you collapse from exhaustion."

Perhaps the worst part was the loss of a genuine question.
Removing his hand from Fennec's shoulder he addressed the girl who asked the question.

"Any secret you care to give should be acceptable Ms Guile," He raised his voice then that the others may hear "however the deeper the secrets the better."

He memorised those who spoke out of turn that they might be punished when they returned to the Academy grounds anyway. Salak did not approve of violence against Initiates or other Dreadlords but disrespect he simply could not abide at all.
Returning his attention to Fennec he spoke in a conspiratorial tone.

"Do not give them reason to mock you. Take control of this moment. Your anger gives you power but only the truth can make it serve you alone!"

Fennec Houri

 

[Fennec]

"She can't speak, Sir," said another Initiate who had, up until this point, been quiet. One of those that would likely graduate a level 4 - his talent for sound distortion might've proven powerful if only he had the actual talent, "she's mute."

That was enough to set Fennec off, and before anyone knew it one of her dark mystes had unfurled from her back and shot at the boy with such force it knocked the wind out of his lungs, broke his sternum, and set him flying back into the trees.

Her hands raised and the mute began to cut sign words into the air.

[My secrets are not for anyone,] the ghastly look of abhorrence on her face could have made a gargoyle cry and retreat, [but I pray for the return of the old ways before graduation.]

Perhaps that wasn't exactly a secret, though it wasn't as if very many of them got conversation out of her.

Salak Houri

 

[Houri]

Houri was surprised that almost a quarter of the gathered crowd nodded openly in agreement; she had thought most of this year group to be enjoying their new freedoms. Still, she didn't really think that confession to be much of a secret and so her brows furrowed more as she tried to work out the whole aim of this particular mission.

Maybe telling secrets here grants some boon?

Or maybe he's just one of those mushy talk about your feeling hacks.

Maz had said he had thought Salak a wise man, so Houri dismissed Ahdvi's comment.

"Sir, I don't really understand what the... point of this is?"

 

[Salak]

Salak's robes seemed to bristle as he endured the prattling of his lessers. Angered though he was by Fennec's childish display of power he had at least gotten something. A demonstration of honesty he could use.
The murmur of agreement about him was another tool. The Old Ways had power among them, perhaps even reverence.
Now more questions, admittance of confusion and ignorance, slight jabs he could use later. They had not yet copped to the notion that they were arming him against them.
"Of course you do not understand Houri-Azadeh Mahsa al'Luana. None of you understand!"
He addressed the group and walked into the circle they formed. One of the Initiates made to help Fennec's victim.
"Leave him."
Salak loaded the command with a tone that dared not be disobeyed.
"Huh, The Old Ways is it?"
The whining breath of the dying lad came from where he lay, slumped against the tree and bleeding from his mouth. Salak pointed a slender finger at Fennec in accusation.
"The Old Ways would see you loose a finger for such a loss of control Miss Vel Olera and your back would be red with lashes for failing to speak when commanded by a Proctor, be you able or no."
His finger moved to implicate the others, lingering on those he remembered murmured agreement with Fennec's statement.
"Speaking out of turn holds the same punishment Master Pirian and double for insult to a Proctor Master Lite."
His hard green eyes met all of them in turn and more than one could not return it his gaze.
When he had finished he had moved to the centre of the circle and threw down his cane onto the overgrown stones.
"The POINT is to get you all to start thinking about who you are. What you can do and what you want."
As he spoke he removed his hood and displayed his prematurely grey hair. The pockmarked cheek in the clear light of day gave his already pale face added gaunt.
"Is it true then, do you all yearn for The Old Ways? To have your humanity taken from you. To be turned into weapons capable of nothing greater than killing? If so we can leave young Master Ulte to die here while we watch and be thankful that his weakness has been washed from our number. Is that what you want?"
He waited a moment to let his words take root in them. He hoped they might blossom but above all Salak was a realist and dealt with what was before him.
"Answer!"


Fennec Houri

 

[Fennec]

Some may not have been able to meet Salak's domineering gaze, but one who held it with nary a blink was the one he now threatened with punishment. Playing non-stop in the back of her mind was the whole history of her life here at the Academy. Every horrifying chapter another lesson in the language of pain, fear, anger, and yes ... even power. What he spoke was true, of course. The repercussions for what she'd done here in the short blink of a few moments might have seen her paying in blood for a week.

But it would not have been for striking a fellow student. Nay, it would have been for not killing him outright, and that was the part that stuck with her. This revolution had dulled not just her own edge, but that of every other Initiate in her year and under, and every Proctor that still walked these halls. Even Harkenov.

It was a disgrace and utter misuse of the weapons they'd honed. Even now, having held on to hope after hearing what happened at the senior's graduation, Fennec could not kick the need to chain that hope to the floor of her subconscious. There had to be more than written tests. Had to be more than soft challenges with nothing truly at stake. This is what she'd been raised for, and so when he asked if that's what she truly wanted, the silent Initiate raised her hands once more and signed a single response.

[Yes.]

She then delved a hand beneath her robes and withdrew a dagger sheathed at her back and in one fluid motion raised the blade upwards before her, slid it between the pointer and middle finger of her opposite hand, and sliced the former off.

Red welled in an instant, spraying the Initiate immediately to her left and painting her own grayscale face, which had done not but twitch and grow taut. The finger hit the ground, but she wasn't looking at it, she was staring at Salak with her chin raised and the whites of her eyes flashing in defiance of his new ways within the kohl of her painted sockets.

 

[Salak]

Salak watched this misguided display and shook his head sadly. It had proved two things to him. The first that he had much work to do unwinding the harsh indoctrination of the Academy that he himself spent a lifetime escaping and the second was that Fennec Vel Olera might be beyond his ability to help.
Such reality was never easy to face.
"What a shame Fennec."
His voice had lost all of its official tone, it's authority. Salak spoke to her plainly now.
"You have failed to understand the lesson of this place. Those who cling to the past too much are simply doomed. It keeps us from adapting, learning, improving. You limit yourself without need and for what? An excuse to kill?"
His gaze fell upon the discarded finger. Fennec made no motion to look at it which meant she would not be made to regret her decision.
If nothing else she did not lack conviction. If only there was some common sense to give it flexibility.
"What manner of General wants a Warcaster who attacks their allies? It may seem like your establishing an aura of fear and respect now but the truth, the real truth is that IF you ascend at all despite your insubordination you are most likely to find an arrow in your back at the first charge of any real conflict."
He had seen worse. His desire was not to instil fear that was not his way. Only to reveal the sharper realities beyond the Academies walls. Again he met Fennec's defiance with his own eyes and adopted his usual formal tone. He spoke as a Proctor again and a Dreadlord with all the experience his years could bring.
"A Dreadlord who attacks their own allies is better off dead. Vel Anir has no need for such weakness. It never did. You, Miss Vel Olera, are weak and if you truly want to join the rest of the Dreadlords and Nobles who thought as you do then we can return to the Academy and I shall summon the Executioner myself and save us all a great deal of bother and posturing."
Salak wondered then if Fennec would attack him.
If so she learned nothing and he would waste no more time with her.
On the surface of his toxic skin he pushed the paralytic essence of the Gum Frog. It was not lethal but left the subject of its work awake and conscious. Breathing was difficult but not impossible. His mind went to Master Ulte whom he could still hear struggling.
*Hold on lad, hold on.*
It would take him hours to die but the pain must have been intense all the same.

Houri Fennec

 

[Houri]

Now that's a true Dreadlord, Ahdvi hummed in her mind.

She cut off her own finger!

She stuck to her morals, Vayu. It's not something I'd expect you to understand.

Houri was so busy trying to hear herself over the voices that occupied her mind she nearly leapt into the air when another initiate touched her arm. Instead she glowered at the girl who paled slightly and took a half a step backwards.

"Should we... help him?" she whispered whilst Salak lectured Fen. Houri stifled a sigh; since the dance a curious thing had happened amongst the students. Whereas before they had given her a wider berth now they seemed to come to her for advice and comfort. She did not like it one bit.

"Are you a healer?" a shake of the head. "Then what do you propose to do to help him?" Damn Kress, why did she look as though she had hit her? "It's best to just leave him, you could injure him more," she said in a far gentler tone and the girl looked relieved, nodding in agreement.

Houri then turned her attention back to the lesson.

 

[Fennec]

She might've argued that Salak, for all his professed years, had it wrong.

Fennec's very strength was her adaptability, her eagerness to learn and improve was second to none if you asked her. Yet what he displayed here? This was the biggest farce of them all since the revolution and the rise of the Republic. She was, first and foremost, raised and honed as a weapon. Killing was her method and her means to results. That he thought he had any hope at all of dulling her edge - well, some of the others here might've been glad to be ground against the softened materials the Republic now preached, but she would not.

She was not bound for the ranks beneath a General. Nor was she destined to work alongside others. Fennec's entire career path had been set upon that of an infiltrator, the eyes and ears of those who commanded her, and the blade that severed the weakness from within. That was her purpose. The words that spilled from his mouth were saturated by ignorance and idiocy.

Might have argued - but did not. For Fennec spared only the effort to communicate that which was most important, and outlining every syllable that he had wrong was not her job. Her myste scooped up the severed finger from the ground where it had fallen and turned a curious color of deep grey. Without further ado and no argument to be made, the silent Initiate turned and headed back to the Academy to await an executioner she had high doubts would ever be called but would not fear if it were.

As a matter of fact, she hoped it would.

 

[Salak]

Salak waited until Fennec left before speaking again.
"Anyone with healing, preserving or time manipulation see to it that Master Ulte does not die. If any of you can manipulate gravity or make a body levitate, use it to take him back to the Academy. Failing that I trust your military training has not been lax, make stretch and carry him in teams of two."
He did not take his eyes off the spot where Fennec had disappeared into the trees back the way they had come. He regretted then that he was not a man of idle threats and lamented that in the rush to progress from the darkness of the Academy's past another now had to die.
Such conviction was rare but in this form it was worthless. Vel Anir did not need monsters. It needed leaders. If she was born earlier, into his own generation maybe then she would have excelled, been made Archon easily and died in the Revolution like the rest of them.
Some of the Inititates moved, others waited and it was to those he addressed knowing all could hear him.
"Allow me to make this point perfectly clear and without metaphor or hyperbole. The belief that "things were better before" is misguided at best and psychotic at worst as you have just seen. Mark my words Fennec Ven Olera is a danger to all, including herself. Those who share her values, such as they are, will be under close watch by me for any evidence of sedition or treason. The penalty for treason is death. Sedition is expulsion and banishment. You WILL serve Vel Anir either by aptitude or as example to others. Dismissed."
Salak watched as more than a few of the Initiates carried the weight of his words on their young shoulders. He thought it good, they would have a heavy dose of understanding now. Understanding that this new era was not going to take kindly to such displays and that he was not as toothless as some seemed to think he was. Singling out two of the Inititates who stood next to each other he called them by name.
"Miss Al'Luana, Miss Scowt. Come here."
There was more impatience in his voice than he would have liked. His leg was getting to him again. The walk back was going to be an endurance.
Houri would recognize the other called as the pale girl who asked if they should have helped Ulte.

Fennec Houri

 

[Houri]

I could always freeze him with a blizzard?

I don't think that's what the Proctor means, Tishya.

Houri tried to keep the smile from growing. The thought of encasing Initiate Pirian in heaps of snow was an amusing one but definitely, absolutely not appropriate. She coughed to cover her laugh. Thankfully the lecture was sombre enough to bring her back to her senses though she disagreed on several of his points - especially that about Fen. Houri chanced a glance in the direction the initiate had stalked off and made a note to seek her out later on; Fennec would be a danger, yes, but only to those who got in her way. By her side, however...

She snapped off a smart salute with the others and was turning to go when her name cut across the group. Several turned in her direction and she quietly cursed under her breath as she reluctantly turned back.

"If this is your fault, I will kill you," she muttered to the other singled out initiate then stalked back to the Proctor. In front of him she gave another formal, well exercised salute. "Yes, sir?"

 

[Salak]

Salak picked up his cane slowly, not hiding his pain from his face as he did so.
"I noticed you two sharing words during my altercation with Miss Ven Olera. Of what did you speak?"
His eyes were cold both with weariness and anger. Not at them, yet.
He retained the majority of it for himself. At times like this he wished he was better with people.
It was hard to keep his mind from Fennec though and he prayed that no unfortunate soul got between her and the Academy before she got to her dorm.
This was going to get worse before it got better but such was his position, such was his mission.

Houri Fennec

 

[Houri]

Houri didn't dare look at the other initiate but knew that gulp meant she knew that Houri would find her later and beat the living shit out of her. On the surface, she kept her face calm and composed.

"Initiate Pirian, Sir," she explained with the icy calm of an autumnal rain. "Initiate Scowt asked if we should help him, but I explained unless she was a healer or had a gift that could keep him skill, she might do more damage than good in moving him," not entirely untrue, she had just merely added that bit at the end of her snappish no.

"Sir... are you really going to execute Fe-- Initiate Ven Olera?"

 

[Salak]

Salak looked at Houri with a confused sort of kindness.
"That depends entirely on how Miss Ven Olera behaves when I catch up with her later."
He let out a mournful sigh and looked up at the sun. Barely fifteen minutes it took to loose a whole afternoon and almost loose two students.
He could do better and would.
"Tell me, when such danger presents itself, why did none of you defend each other? Master Pirian, for all his flaws, does not deserve to be so injured. Any number of you might have protected him."
The question was asked without accusation or jibe. It held a refreshing bead of clear honesty that rested at its core.
Perhaps he could salvage something of this disaster of a lesson.

Houri Fennec

 

[Houri]

"S-s-she was too fast," the mousy girl squeaked beside her. A few others nodded their agreement. Houri noted, thoughtfully, that they were those who were less powerful. None of them would graduate above a Level Four. But those with stronger magic kept quiet. No doubt, like her, they had sensed the power brewing in Fennec and hadn't done much more than be ready to defend themselves.

Houri scowled. That wasn't their fault.

"Why didn't you?" she folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head to the side. "Aren't Proctors meant to protect us now?"

 

[Salak]

Salak smiled like a snake. There was at least one functioning mind here.
"I saved Fennec Ven Olera by not stopping her. Had I done so one of us would have certainly died and either way her life would be forfeit."
He did not have it in him to lie in this place. Not again.
Besides truth was the point of the lesson and if he could not live his lessons how could anyone expect to learn them.
He was not as strong as he once was and even then he was always considered frail compared to the others. If he died here then Fennec would definitely be executed and this entire class could be lost or exiled. He could not allow that.
"Now, since I have answered. So shall you. Why did you not defend your classmate? Why did none of you protect him?"
This time he let his frustration seep into his words. Was there no comradery among them? Did they simply wait for the others to die. The supposed "weak" to fail like animals? He despised such thinking. It wasted potential and glorified unnecessary cruelty.
Perhaps if they really wanted to live under such conditions he should grant their request. To be trained as he was, during the worst of it all. Before the slow wheels of reform began to expel the worst of the tortures.
Poisoned rations, a week walled up in the basement for no reason other than a Proctors whim and not to mention the one that he despised the most.
The one that had Initiates kill their closest, most beloved.
What would they do then? Salak wondered remembering the tenderness he observed at the Dance.

Houri Fennec

 

[Houri]

How the fuck does that make sense?

I bet the cripple couldn't even stop an arrow, let alone magic like that.

Houri winced; not all magic was offensive. That didn't make it less deadly and if Salak were a Proctor she did not think him weak. She did ponder as the voices quibbled why she hadn't bothered to step in when she had felt that magic brewing. She would have liked to think she would have let Fennec attack anyone but... that was not true. She would have defended Silas, Zinnia, Lumen. Even Zaire though he hated her.

In the end she shrugged.

"He's not one of mine," hers to care for, hers to protect, hers to make sure something evil the likes of which had happened to her would not befall them.

 

[Salak]

Salak's green eyes sparkled and he threw a hunched point of his finger in mock accusation at Houri.
"There, honesty. Simple and true. You do not care for Pirian because you do not consider him "Yours"."
At last.
He smiled again, genuinely this time. It lit up his pock marked face.
The follow up was quite natural and he addressed the whole group again.
"You are all on the same side are you not? You serve this Academy, if you graduate you shall serve the Anirian people. You already have that one commonality." He held up his finger again as he spoke to emphasis the number one.
"Yet you fracture into petty bands among yourselves. Dividing yourselves and denying the potential power of your unity."
He held their attention for a moment before he offered his next question.
"Together, could you not all have stopped Fennec Ven Olera? What would you have to fear from one or even three such threats if the rest of you knew you were going to support one another?"
He could only hope that there, in that grove which was christened with fresh blood today that something might come from it.
They needed to realise what they could be before he could help them achieve it.

Houri Fennec

 

[Houri]

Horseshit, Ahdvi snarled. Houri's lips pursed in quiet agreement.

"Sorry Sir, but not even the Guards, fight like that," she pointed out. She had seen it with her own eyes; they had their regiments - their sword brothers and shield sisters - who they would bleed for without a second thought, but strangers? What right did they have for a piece of her flesh. She shook her head dismissing the very notion.

"I don't owe any of these people," she waved her hand towards them. "My life, nor my loyalty. And exchanging secrets like we're at some noble slumber party is not going to make me feel any more inclined to do so."

They'd have to earn it, just like everyone else.

 

[Salak]

"You are not THE GUARD!"
Salak snapped with a menace glazed in frustration at this classes incessant stupidity.
"YOU ARE ASPIRING DREADLORDS."
Green eyes cursed them all with their glare.
"YOU SHALL FACE THE GREATEST FOES IN THE WORLD!"
Outstretching his arms he gestured to their surroundings, implying the great beyond.
"PRIDE AND STUBBORNNESS WILL NOT SAVE YOU WHEN THE WILD HUNT FINDS YOU. WHEN ARMIES OF OGRES IN MAGIC PROOF ARMOUR CRASH AGAINST YOUR LINES. NOR WHEN THE BATTLES FAIRS POORLY AND YOU AND "YOURS" ARE LEFT ALONE, IN THE SCORCHING DESERT, AT THE MERCY OF THE UNFORGIVING SUN AND FREEZING NIGHT. ABANDONED AND STARVING."
Salak stopped to catch his breath. His face had gone red and he was feeling tired.
"Can none of you understand that I am trying to save you? That I see value in each of you even if others do not? That all may serve, all may have purpose and Vel Anir would be the stronger for it."
He felt like giving up. They had the minds of cows. Used to how they had been treated and not able to imagine anything better or more useful.

Houri Fennec

 

[Houri]

The crack of a gloved hand across her face....

Houri did not like being yelled at. She was not a child nor a dog to be bade to heel. Her jaw clenched and her hands curled into fists causing her nails to dig into her palm. She would  not yell back. She was calm,  calm. Like a summer breeze not a raging hurricane. The greying skies above seemed to say otherwise.

"It is not pride nor stubbornness," Houri said in that deathly calm. The eye of a storm. "Where were you, Proctor, when they took me to an asylum because I was deemed too powerful to dismiss, too broken to be a Dreadlord? Where were you, Proctor," the word sounded like an insult. "When Mavis had her hand chopped off for refusing to kill a civilian in the way? Where were you, when our classmates in the year above were kidnapped and slaughtered?"

Murmurs broke out in the small group.

"What is the difference between you forcing us to protect one another, and them forcing us to kill each other? It's still forcing. You're still taking our choice! Instead of preaching about loyalty and unity, I think you and the other Proctors should focus on yourselves. Because I sure as Kress don't trust any of you, so how can I even begin trusting the rest of them."

Before the storm could boil over and hit Houri turned on her heel and stomped off after Fennec. One by one, the other initiates began to follow.