16 Noxious

At the end of the feast- the students celebrate with a toast. They sip on their drink, some hopped atop the table to dance, few hid or kept distance, ominous to the new environment . They roared with laughter, swayed to the tempo of beats and drums, while some stayed sober to regulate the mishaps. But the rest- they were far too gone with ecstasy to oversee the prison we were in.

We were approaching a war, they will be used. The ones who joined for the cause of roof and fame will surely be a victim. But the ones who thrill at the thought of serving their kingdom?

They will rise.

As for me- I am already a pawn that's been moved across.

Erix Morana -

The name stills my heart, his image- it taunts me. By the dark corner I sit with my mind wandering at the faces who hadn't accepted me. They talk- they wonder so much about me, of my mystery, of my ranking. Of my mentor?. I have garnered a mountain of attention that I wasn't accustomed to after the selection and the idea of being in the same room as the Northern Lord overpowers it all.

In the midst of a loud carnival night arranged for the fresh aspirants, I silently miss the serenity that comes with Ezdan. Dorin had long been escorted to the quarters of Hann Slantis. so were the rest of the four Aces. Slate Willow sat next to me, his cheery persona has diminished and I suspect it to be an aftermath of the attack in orphic. He is the only person I acquaint with here, and with his union with me, an Ace- none dare approach us.

"They must have escorted you" he mused, I see an outline of confusion in his soft features. his blonde curls are now cropped-short, much enough for his old line of an old scar to be visible "I heard most, if not all the Aces get taken to their private annexe with immediate effect"

It's true. I have been a lone wanderer since past two days. After regular classes I am taken to a boys quarters, I luckily share them with slate and another boy who has a feature of ever frightened frown soiled on his forehead. This was the week of sorting as they had told, the Ezdan hadn't made efforts to contact me and neither had I seen Marlon anywhere near the campus. We weren't allowed to leave the premise until a higher notice was permitted upon.

I am a kite in sky, I feel free. But occasionally I feel someone tug at my thread.

I am delusional. Because I know even if they don't flock around me, they still must be watching me to see if I stray.

The thing about being watched is to not know when and how? Or by whom.

I peel my glove off and shove it inside the pocket. Its purpose was to accentuate us- something of a plus apparel given to Aces as if to divide them among their group. Similar to how the Highbornes adorn it. The modest warnings to the commoners by the untouchables.

"What can you do Timo?" his voice doesn't drift when he asks me, Slate has been the one person hanging in a thread between devotion and friendship. He should have suspected the foul in us. We had spent time with him in Keld under a rain of lies. He knows but has chosen to turn his mistrust the other way. "I know one isn't allowed to discuss this, it's forbidden for Aces. But we don't know the gist of what you are capable of. More than envy- people are scared of you. So tell me Timo-

he searches my face for a humble change ,

-tell me should I be like them? scared. Wary of you?"

My teeth clam, and I look down at my hands.

It trembles. My heart- it burns and so does my throat. My words, my defence fights among themselves.

I don't know.

I might claim.

I am afraid to know.

I would scream.

Please don't leave me alone.

I may beg.

Don't use me.

I will destroy.

Someone covers my hand with theirs, The sheathed one- I could tell who it belongs to in my sleep now. He gets on his knees and it's when i see him- Dressed as a minder and almost blended among the guards. He had his hood veiling him in disguise. when Slate recognized the peculiarity among- his jaw slacked. The Ezdan raised his index to his lips- his eyes on Slate. His gesture- to pacify his panic.

Slates eyes are saucers as he nods rashly to please his Prince. Momentarily I dismiss my terror but the second his eyes were bold on mine, I let go.

"What are you doing here?" I hiss, and I can tell he is thinking of a mock to answer me with. But Slate interrupts us with his moral homework.

"Timo-" he yelled a whisper, "That's not a manner to address with " he stood and then sat, he peered at us and at the Ezdan as if asking what he should do to represent his respect. He sure would have got down beside the prince on his knees hadn't Ezdan cleared his throat with judgemental contempt.

"Sit down," he said, advised Slate "You are attracting attention"

he panics virtuously and bows,

"My apologies your Grace" he perches weakly, weaving his glance from me to him. I snatch my arm from the Ezdan and one sharp glare of his has my insides chiding me for disappointing him. It was reckless. It was unexplainable. But I was angry at him, furious at him for lying to me. So I say it-

"I want you to take me out of here" It wasn't a request. My voice was far point from pleading. If anything I did- I demanded he does so. Foolishly I also believe that he will do it for me. Take me somewhere where I could burst with fury in peace.

He tips his head carefully, suspicion swells in me as he spoke- promised.

"It's time you assert your right over me," he said, his tailored smirk sets my soul on fire and I know this wise that it's his delight over something that I fail to fathom. Slate is the bonus victim to Ezdans scrutiny as he awaits a logic to tumble out of this scene. But- "Mr willows, will you manage to distract the gathering?"

Slate is a fish.

A golden flapping fish until he finds his voice. It's sad how he squeaked.

"I can try your highness"

"And also, you never saw me here"

slate wasn't a dimwit- though bewildered he nods once with an apparent role masking his demeanour. His allegiance to the crown reflects in his wordless acceptance of authority, he would never question. They can easily make a killer out of Aspirants like Slate as much as a tool of mine. There are seniors demonstrating their powers with playful execution- I see a girl bend the lights causing an illusion of invisibility on the cup ofcandle a boy was clutching for her. A boy had a cloud made of smoke hovering atop of his head, it shimmers and deflates as another senior manipulates the particles of water from the vapour to make it rain on him. Another had a snake encircling her wrist and arm in an ornamental fashion, for a second I was delusive to think the reptile piped at me by having sensed my presence.

The scattered notoriety soon gains a solo person to focus on- when Slate got on a chair and then stood upon the centre table, he captured their curiosity with his announcement.

"You all seem to showcase the enticing gifts you are bestowed with" he grins charmingly and some girls do swoon- Slate willows is the ideal beauty for a female with soft fantasy. So it wasn't a surprise when boys began to get annoyed but yet awaited the Willow's intention. "I am unfortunate to be born without one. But I have worked for it- challenged my endurance to be where I stand. so I feel- I should be allowed to exhibit the gift I had offered for myself"

Then he proceeds to undo the buttons on his shirt.

The silence breaks and cheers erupt on his honour.

My stay would have been longer and so would my appreciation of Slate's confidence if it wasn't for the Ezdan who towed me out with wide strides. My footsteps are sluggish while he is bold, he clutched me tightly while I let him hold.

"I got the Nothern Defender," I say, rushing beside him once he lets go of me. I walk, I crane and I accuse him of it. He is unbothered to my aggression and uncovered his hood. Unbuckling the dramatic cape- he wads it, throwing it across a barrack of scrubs. "You lied to me"

"I am not a liar. Ever supposed that I could have been tricked?" He then deliberate "Did not realize that you had such desperation to spend time with me" the cool air plays with his hair, the tints of luminous from the university kissed his skin and the night sky did not dare out did his grace. My cheek flushed pathetically.

"Sorry if it is alarming to know that I do desire to live, The Northern Lord is evil" I say as his walk hindered, I despise how long the yards are or the hours it takes to simply reach the palace from here. No one questioned the The Ezdan when we leave- not for pass. Not for validation "Perhaps I plan to take a husband, and have kids. But anyone ever is more important to you than your cause?"

He rasps a dark chuckle, and his jaw ticks as if he heard a farce.

"The Willow boy will sure make a good husband. bringing in money with his little strip pageants"

How is it credible for someone to be as petty as him with their upbringing bought by the best teachers in the world?

"Slate Willows is solely interested in trimming my wig, He says we look like brothers with the same blonde genes" I say. the Ezdan for once appeared disturbed "And how do you know him though?"

"I know Everyone associated with you"

"That doesn't bring me comfort"

"I am not here to give you one"

The palace gates come into view and I see the guards littered with carriages going in and out. Even from afar, I saw one host the girl I saw in Ezdans chamber by the base of Keld. my eyes trained on her as the grand wagon wheeled by. Horses with sentries flock in front and behind her vehicle. It waited on them until the group shifted by the corner- disappearing completely. When I turn back Ezdan was patiently watching me with a grumpy half frown.

I root for the strange exchange of us to stall from the real problem.

"Are you going to marry her?"

He is thoughtful for a moment, then a light flicks his mood.

"The girl who was in the wagon. I saw her with you in Keld" my excitement to peel some facet of his personal endeavours is a result of contagious interaction with other boys from university. They gossip, girls and boys alike. While boys spent time speaking of wars, lethal weapons and women's bust measurements. The girls do bring in a stack of news from a royal fairy tale.

Styainne Marmoris.

Youngest of the three daughters and the most treasured one of Lord Marmoris. A father's favourite child- and so is she the kingdom's ordained Bride for the Ezdan.

"What do you know of her?" he asks, simply.

"That she is your people's first choice for a Queen," I say, tensing at the way his eyes darkened.

"And what's your thought?"

"Does it matter-

"I- asked something, Tommy"

I swallowed at the arch of circumstances, I reckoned that I was once allowed to ask or get angry.

"She seems the kind that will be perfect for you," I say remembering the stories of her legacy left behind in her academy years. She is deemed to have been an indomitable student in every expertise there is. "She is admirable"

What he is thinking is beyond my reach, but his words are a sharp stab. Vivid and real.

"You will be the death of me," he said, his voice wavers before he looks away "Then why make me hope for a future?"

His stroll resumes as I am forced to confront him. I yank him to face me, he looked at me as if in a phase of tolerance.

"Marlon informed me of the choices, I am your obstacle- my riddance is your chance at a normal life" I remind him, he peels my fingers off him and nudged me away, gently. "Stop being a riddle and answer my questions Ezdan. You promised me" I cry with the frustration combing me with its sharp edges.

"The Scholar's Ring" he nears, leaning. "Is the answer. It will change our future"

it awakens the vile spirit in me to know what he meant. I ascend a step, needing him to precise. My face must be alight with the intention. He wasn't mightier than me, he needs me as much as I need him. I need to use him for my escape.

Escape.

the thought is wild in my mind as I see, read and gather the routes, rules and forgotten tears in their sanctuary. I will be his perfect puppet till the dawn of his faith- faith in me that I will betray the day I leave this behind. Him behind with his crumbling kingdom.

I dig the nails into my palm, thinking of a world in ruins. But it will be far better than yielding the power that comes with a Ring to the crown of a cursed man because no one is born with a destiny of doom without a story to it. As an old man would say, The boy must be closest to what chaos means.

"Where are you taking me Ezdan?"

We had long surpassed the gates and entryway, what prompts me to ask was the crystal concrete of the Nothern building we were in. The symbol of snow in silver is massive up close. The soft grey suits with white bands across were everywhere. They were stationed by the pillars- doors, to each cut of corridor that were made of white marble. the grey prints of them rose like flame- like a cold flame and it glowed when it sensed the warmth of our body. igniting the path ahead with light.

Their hair glistens like platinum, like snow. I see some girls on the stairs- tall and stoic as they catch a look of us, smile and curtsied in politeness. But their eyes were pointed with another emotion. Passiveness. Disfavour and Discomfort.

Ezdan wasn't applauded here.

He was observed and tolerated.

And he was nakedly clear with his resentment.

"Are you taking me to the Lord?" the number of patrollers declined inside the mansion, and soon none to guard. This must be the personal sector to which Ezdan must have no concern about breaching. Personal space? He loves everybody's personal space. "I see that you have a severe case of keeping things inside you unless asked. I am doing the honours"

"Don't speak unless you are spoken to. We need this man for our benefit. He is a living disappointment" he turns the bolt of a large rustic door, but doesn't open it. He pinned his gaze on the details made of iron. cravings of leaves and animals. "It's time I have you evaluated"

That hasn't happened in years, the practice of evaluating a person's ability even before the banishment took place. It hasn't been a necessity as no one has been extraordinary enough to detain such methods. The last, I heard of its use was when a boy from Found was thought to control minds. turned out to be falsehood as all he could do was enhance a person's emotions.

He is said to now work as mind curator on war front. Helping the soldiers with his therapeutic care.

But I fear the disparity of his ability- he could save someone as easily as he could kill. He can make a person evil enough to do his dirty chore. Nothing ever comes free of pessimism, do they?

The door squeals when nudged, it smells, looks and feels old. Magnificent and dark, like a whisper it calls us in. This room houses secrets of centuries, Arran was presented here before the council where he was evaluated for bearing the intellectual power that could annihilate humanity.

He has been in this room. He is said to have smiled at the council's discussion that dictated his immediate execution. He also escaped from right under their nose- his solitary cell was found empty an hour before his sentence.

he flirted with death and played with his life.

The scholars chase had made Antar a laughing stock. The existence of his Ring had made Antar, a deadly kingdom.

And yet he was captured and killed for his discoveries.

"Arran was deemed unfit with an unimaginable vision" I see him, Erix Morana with his back to us standing by the Plaque of Valutare. Pools of water bracket us, it hibernates without a moment. The room is oddly cold, like a death in an odour of night. It could be Morana or it could be my fear, I shuffle faintly - nearing the tall body of Ezdan when the Lord turns to face us. "Its funny how we celebrate that kind of power now that once was forbidden and slaughtered" his eyes are on me as if in welcome, he had worn his sheath today. Its white. So much White. yet I see the stain of red from the girl's death on him.

The only purity in him might be the colour he represents.

"Imagine what Antar would have been like have we let Arran do what he wished for. A revolution" he grins boyishly at Ezdan taking a seat on one of the stairs. His elbows propped on his knees in keen glee "Certainly not as weak as how it is today" he pouts. His lips are pink on his pale skin- his words are windows to his crazy thoughts.

"If we had let him do it, you would now be a servant at a wealthy merchant's house with the job of keeping his whiskey chilled" at Ezdans mock, I suppress my smile.

"You would have been the same" Morana retorts.

"I am a good thief"

"You were a good friend"

I wait for something to happen, sizzling at the exasperation at Moranas remark. But Ezdan remained quiet. At the moment I would have traded my day's worth of meals to look into either of their past. Their supposed friendship that has escalated into this brawl. But the Ezdan is already bringing me ahead- I gape at him in shock as he presents me to Morana.

Like a trophy.

"These boys' allegiance with us will change Rixilians mind" no, no- what is he doing?

"What is his-

"He is a seer"

Moranas lips twitched- displease. until

"He survived his read" the spark in Moranas eyes at the revelation leaves no room for argument. Ezdan is selling me passionately. That prick. "The attack in Orphic was foreseen by him. I was there when it happened"

The look Erix Morana gives me can bring a stone to life. I see the claw of greed and hunger fascinate him, I was a door for him- that could open a million opportunities. The key? he thinks he owns it. What else can an amateur leader conjure other than the thirst to have the world kneel before them?

I would behave such too if born with luck.

Minus the murder part. I won't kill- I convince.

"Come here," he says after a prolonged silence. My instinct is to look at the Ezdan. He hasn't released my wrist, and when he lets go- the dread is heavy on my feet as I walk to him. He sat still- preppy, polished and with curiosity moulding his bones. It's chilly, the air around him mulls with another season. The winter was part of Moranas, the descendants of Ivyaki- they would thrive like wolves in the conditions that have been the bane for us. "Nearer snowflake, I don't have the whole night for this"

Liar.

Liar for saying that- he would spend days on me to learn what I am capable of. He is consumed by the idea of me. My ability. I do as he said, shuffled closer. His dark blue eyes are two mystical gems, the kind that still would remain intense without his knowledge and they are confident in me.

"Your hand snowflake," he asks, raising his sheathed one to take mine. I shudder when his long finger wraps around- he is freezing even through the material between us. "Elemental?" he inspects. I feel the Ezdans pressing eyes on us. But he is a shadow tonight- bleeding emotions of his strange fury in me but doing nothing to help the scene.

What was he so angry about? Isn't it him deciding to share our secrets with the fancy-dressed Lord?

"I don't know," I say in honesty, my lie would be futile with the vulnerable voice that would give me away at the start.

"How do see them?" he stretched my fingers open, running his index along the line of my palm. "In flashes?"

"They come like dreams" I lie now. effortless. "It comes to me, I can't summon it" the more lie I elicit the lighter I become. I have it in me- the power to fool them. I can do this.

He looks at me as if his conscience is woven into me. or it's just his eyes, too impolite with the intensity so I look away.

"I want to see what happens if you summon" I am lost for air- he doesn't believe me. But the Ezdan is quick with a perception, one that could lead them to hollow results.

"It weakens him beyond consciousness, I have seen him try" my surprise is evident in my blinks, in my colours and my heart. He must have felt it the night we stayed at the house of Slantis. He had known it all along, My ventures. How pathetic was my soul to keep him granting access? I barely can reach him.

I stumble back as Erix stood up, releasing the hold on me. I wipe the cold in my trousers.

"If he dies he is of no use anyway"

Ezdan sighed, closing his eyes. he looked tired of him. Of Erix.

"If he trains, he might do wonders Erix" he goes as far as to place his hand on the Lords shoulders "I know you can freeze a monarchy, but do try to not seldom freeze your brain. Use it sometimes- it's refreshing"

it sits unwell with the Lord who bruises the jab with a bitter smile.

"Evaluation then?"

The Ezdan has the arrogance to agree with a smirk. As ing I wasn't right here. In flesh.

"How refreshing"

This wise the Lord leaves it to Ezdan who brings me to the podium. I gawk at the length the pillar rose to, the engraved stone surpassed the ceiling that was craved with languages and sculptures depicting the Antarian history- it expanded within the whole room and disappeared beneath the waters. The plaque was mounted in front of me- a large piece of rock with cracks, plastered with molten crystals. green blue and gold- filling the ghashes of lightning divinely.

"Breath Tommy" Ezdan whispers. His scent kept me sane, it was the only familiar aspect of this unfamiliar ritual. I look at him for assurance, I should stab myself for doing it. For craving comfort from him. What could be next this madness would lead me to? Having the morana braid my hair in future? "I don't like feeling this nervous," he says.

Sure.

It's vivid. he solaces my nerves so he doesn't have to withstand his masculine body wither in the likes of a damsel that I am. That's scandalous to his manhood. I touch the plaque as he instructs me to, my hands flat on its damp smooth surface. I wait for something to happen, The scriptures to tremble or the cracks to convulse. Any sign deemable enough for them to anoint this session to an end.

Nothing happens.

I shift to look at Ezdan, I feel the disappointment sore from Moranas vulture-like stare. But the Ezdan orders one sharp word.

"Focus"

I close my eyes and do as he bids.

This time something happens, but not in the plaque or scale of pillars. But within me. I feel the most ecstatic I have ever been. Submerged in an ocean like a siren that's out of land. Free as a bird off the cage in sky and flawless as a humans heart ever could be. It's euphoria it's bliss so blue that I am smiling with my eyes closed.

I hear water.

I hear air.

I hear people speak.

I think I feel light on me. I feel a tight squeeze on my neck and I tear my eyes open.

Its day.

The first thing I notice is that it is day and I am in the same room, but far away in the corners behind the curtains. This place did not have curtains- and neither was it as gleamingly new. Not were there so many people seated in rows by where the pool of water was. It's the same yet not, I feel the same yet not.

I look down to discern myself in uniform, a female suit. I touch my head and locks of hair welcome me. Scared I peek from the corner, my heart thundering with worry as I cannot seem to find the Ezdan or any familiar face among the throng. Even Erix.

What had happened that night?

How am I here?

In my haste and pace, I monetarily come across a girl with a big woven hat and maroon coat walk towards me. With a yelp, I jump away- but not in time. She passes me. Passes through me. Like I was brought of nothing. Not even air. I stare at the people I was exposed to, none look my way. Their clothes are odd- they wore robes, long dark robes and most had a certain form of facial hair. A fashion active in society two centuries ago. I would know because most romance fiction would always glorifies the quality of a man from the age. That is their long hair.

I walk slowly, certain that I can't be seen now. When I reach the centre I hear commotion. I listen to qualms, the chunks that assure me of this unfolding as what I have in mind.

A window in past.

"Bring that solicited bastard in" stood up a man and hollared. The rest agreed with nods and noises. As if on cue the door opens and two large, beastly men dragged a young boy in. He was slinked in chains and cuffed by the wrist. His big brown eyes are wide with bizarre delight, but his face remains severe. His hair was short for the standard of his era but long enough to tip his shoulders. They were dark, like his clothes. Like his future.

I know this man.

How could I not?

Azrael Arran.

The creator of an abomination, I stood facing him, at such marvellous phenomenon of what's taking place. I am on the page of one of the most important occurrences in history- the ruling of Scholar. I am too scared to look at his face, but when I do I am astonished at the innocence he depicted. Like a little cub curious of this world but terrified of what they had made of him.

A circus.

They push, drag and dunk his neck down when he attempted to catch a glimpse of the officials. His walk staggers up and to the platform. A magistrate produces an account of introduction to what he has done.

"Do you, by means of God and grace confess to having brought a forbidden mysticism to life?" he is quiet up at the platform, looking ahead with a soft gaze at the man who asked.

"I am not remorseful of what I have made, you do not see what I do," he says, hoisting his shoulders as the chains weighs him low "it will save you all from an end that awaits"

"Ambitious. Bloody ambitious" spits an administrator, "He needs to be tested and executed at the earliest. You are not God warrant, power like your shouldn't exist" he reached the metal binding his wrists and tugs him to the plaque. I see it's clean of cracks. The solicitor pressed his hand to it and Arran visibly swallowed and closed his eyes.

The hall is quiet, dead in the drop of his strength. Forsseing a miracle as the stone wounds into pieces, the crank of it is a ticking grenade in silence. They thought it was over as the solicitor attempted to pry his hands away from the Valutare. But he barely budged.

The room darkened-

-And then the floor spoke. People proceeded to retreat to the front as concrete divides into two. The earthquake shakes the whole room as some Armins used their powers to fling the graves and stones raining from the roof. Water bursts through the ground with force, and it flood the area. Cries and screams fill in and I step away when water touched the sole of my shoe.

The doors closed on their accord when they tried to escape. And when they all had cursed him and accepted doom. He opened his eyes, gold. They were gold-like gems sizzling in fire. They look at the scene and they turn afraid. He tumbled back as the solicitor fists his collar and shouts at cowards, demanding their attention.

The energy in the room dies as he rips away his arms from the plaque.

This wise, the crowd chants for his death.

There is no room for discussion after what had been demonstrated for the world to see.

They call the ruling.

My heart falls for a reason mysterious and it's when his mystic eyes meet me.

And he smiles. Smiles with glee, smiles with relief. Smiles with a life that is being taken from him at the sight of me.

Stunned, my mask collasp. I watch his afraid and perplexed. But mostly astounded.

His smile deters into a lovely grin. The guards surge him forward and yank him back again. This wise our paths cross and never once did his eyes stray from mine. When near he says aloud-

"You know where to find me again Iris"

My rejection and denial are hot on tongue, this can't be real. I don't exist in this time. But I do. For him I do because he can see me. He named me.

Iris.

He spoke to me. He manages to look at me through his shoulder till the doors closed behind him- and with his presence gone, a blink of my lid transforms the room into a Ruin. I stand there alone tasting metal in air as heat licks my skin. I stood before the ashes, the flame romps through the horizon devouring everything it touches. I chant my mind to wake up as tears stream down my cheeks, I step on a stone as I turn to run- flee away from the hell in front of me. I slip, I fall- my chin scrapes against the gravel, its warm. it's hot. My shoes stick to my foot when I hoist my body up. It's when I see it-

The piece of Valutare laying there by what's left of the tomb.

Slowly. I look up and My whole world spins at the realization of the fate I see. This was what's left of the palace of Falls in future. This is what the world will come to. This is the end.

A blink.

I open my eyes at the sheer ripples of power that seep through me and into the walls of tomb. The cracks glow. The waters tide. The floors sing of a birth. They speak to me. They bow Arran. They receive me as theirs. I hear Ezdan, demanding me to step away. but I don't, I can't- I see my reflection in the crystal- they are different. Green and Gone. My eyes.

I am ethereal.

A cold arm elope me vicely and pulls me. Morana. I think of his name, but his face is vacant. But I know it's him. He hauls me away and my legs go weak. The ceiling, the inscriptions- They blur into a mass of hazy grey as I lay there in his embrace. I bury my face in his shoulder and go to sleep.

He lets me rest on him.

I despise the frost in his touch, but he felt perfect.

He felt like home.

Azrael Arran

You can surely imagine others in his place, but this man is who I have in my mind for Arran.

So....i know.

We have our new, and very crucial character introduced here. Arran and well Erix, your thoughts are most welcome and don't forget to vote.

P.s un edited.