Chapter 3
Three days had passed since the second trial. The XA had been waiting for three initiates to recover; those were of course the youngest ones, saved first by the master called Dante. I remember my fifteen-year-old self being sick to the bone. For the rest of the initiates, I had gone to see them. They were an ill menagerie that ranged from the sick to the deranged – blurry eyes, enormous pupils, mouths twitching with clandestine messages. Some of them had been damaged irreparably – but all were out of the game – save for the three youngest.
Back then, I did not really cast my blame on anyone; but now I suppose it would be acceptable to say that it was the fault of the XA. Yet even that is far too simple. There is no such thing as good and evil; everything fits on a spectrum, comprised of both the good and the bad. Then you had to measure the individuals within the organisation; they each had their vendetta – their own desires and wants and fears; they each had their own compass, to which their differing morals pointed to their north. The XA’s problem, as an organisation, was that they had such conflict in their direction that they could barely move to match the pace of time. That would become clear to me in the days to come, and engrained in the years to follow. But again, as that Goldenfel child, the XA were infallible to me and I swore that I would join their fold.
So, on the evening of the third day since the second trial, we made our way into the emerald mire. The two masters led, followed by Law and myself, and then the three shaken eight-year-olds. I would have been lying if I said I did not think the odds were just slightly in my favour. Yet my heart still twitched nervously; I could not tell the fear of failure from the anticipation of my success.
Eventually, we arrived in a man-made clearing; concrete blocks were laid in a grand circle and floodlights orbited the circumference. There were a few Communion soldiers dotted around, but the master, now known to me as Grassus, waved his hand into the thick misted air and the men swiftly departed into the darkness of the mire.
The XA retreated to a concrete podium in the middle of this arena. As they ascended, the structure itself rose from the ground, revealing a glimmering metal base; it was likely thousands of years old, polished once every four years, from this very action. It only rose a meter or so; the XA did not need to pedestalise themselves anymore, for they were the masters and we understood that clearly.
Dante loomed behind his fellow; he was shadowed and hooded, but he was certainly not least. His shaded figure held such weight, like some sort of twisted gargoyle on the first-tier towers. It became impossible for us to remove our eyes from him. He scared us, and we could tell that he was deeply angry.
Grassus spoke, “Due to the unforeseen incident in the second trial, the initiation process has been… hastened. The trials will end this night – in little more than an hour. I congratulate each of you for having come this far; one of you will join the ranks of the XA!”
Excitable whispers came from the still dazed children who stood to my side and far below me. I looked towards Law peacefully; I closed my eyes slowly, and he was smiling calmly when I opened them.
Grassus held his chin high to speak again, and when he had our attention, the metal base of the podium slowly sunk back into the ground to reveal an armoury. “This third trial is simple. The XA face many dangers – from many different threats. Though this epoch has been ruled by the rounds of weapon fire, many simpler, older, weapons have proved to be just as nuanced and deadly. Be it on the primal worlds or the under-streets of Centarion, you must be primed for any foe – therefore, I present to you, the blade of the XA—”
The master’s hand moved to his chest; he purposefully skimmed over his holstered pistol and then retreated into his robe. His hand returned with a long metal blade, which soaked in the bright glare of the floodlights. Us initiates all paced forwards, drawn to this item of mystery and allure. We saw it closer. It curved upwards at the tip and its hilt was strapped in leather strips which did well to conceal the chaos of wires and turning blades within. One small button sat by the master’s thumb. He slowly brought the metal tool towards us, and he pointed it to each of our bewondered faces. We saw that there was a deep penetration in the very tip of the blade which bore itself all the way through to the hilt. The master then showed us the preceding hollow in the base of the hilt. “Can anyone here tell me how this blade works?”
The youngsters burst into a flurry of answers; we all knew the wonders of these swords. “Magnets – it has to be. Electromagnets. A – uh… No, it obviously has gyroscopic sensors, and a—”
“—A hand held jet engine,” my voice thundered over theirs, and Grassus smiled at me; he even turned to Dante who seemed to share his approval, slowly stepping out from the shadows.
“Indeed, young Orpheus. Inside the hilt is a turbine engine; it draws in the air which passes through the blade; the air is jettisoned out either the tip or the hilt, depending on which way the turbine is set to spin. This air is, needless to say, rather hot, and that is another nuance to be recognised in a combat situation. And, needless to say again, these weapons are deceptively dangerous – a simple blade and a simple mechanism, maybe… but many young XA have killed themselves and others for not heeding the cautions given to them. If you let go of one of these blades – full spin – it will not wait for you, nor will it know you as its wielder. Therefore, for the purpose of this trial, you shall be using training blades—”
The excitement suddenly bled out of the young faces beside me.
“Last two standing,” Grassus called into the night.
We collected our blades, which only had one switch, a rubber sheath topside, and a thin metal wire underside. The three children stared violently at Law and me, as they carried their much shorter blades away to their starting points.
I knelt on my block; the excitement was mounting. This would be easy; this would be ruthlessly easy. But the ease of it was what scared me the most…
A loud bell sounded from the podium and the game was on. I turned on my blade; nothing seemed to happen apart from the illumination of a single useless blue light, but I knew the wire was now charged. I quickly walked to Law and he walked to me. We watched the children scheme as they clumped together, walking as we were. I met my friend and we waited for our small little foes to come closer.
I decided to test them with my words first. I shouted across the arena, “You don’t honestly believe that you can take on both of us. We are twice your size. You would have better luck fighting each other…”
I heard the small voices ring out, “He’s trying to trick us – the coward!”
I then turned to Law. “They will attack us as one. If we split up, they will not leave their group, and they will chase after one of us. The other then pursues the pack and tries to take them out from behind. When they realise, they will falter and then he who flees shall turn on them.”
My friend nodded his head. “This will be short work”
Like a pack of Godenfel pups, they suddenly tore towards us; they were quite fast, in fact. But by the time we could make out the colours of their eyes, Law and I had darted away from each other. We both ran a clean arc across the perimeter. I heard a terrible little thunder of boots clattering into the concrete – following after myself, it would seem. “Get him. Get him. Look at him run!” they each screamed. Yet I quickened my pace, and I had lost sight of Law; therefore, he was behind us. In the one second that I could afford to look back to the podium, I saw that the two masters were smiling and following the action intently.
Then I heard the first scream; it was a loud wail that seemed to startle even some of the nightbirds from their tree-top seats in the mire. The footsteps faltered. They skidded upon the ground, and I heard the grit running beneath their boots. That was when I turned to see Law bounding over a small and writhing body, and the two shocked children pining over their fallen comrade. I raced to the one closest and he saw me in the corner of his eye, but not fast enough; he raised his blade, but I threw mine into his with all of my momentum. As I spun back around, I heard his weapon crash to the ground and I quickly seared the electrified underside of my blade into the skin of his terrified neck. I felt a small series of jolts and the lightless wire began to burn into the boy’s nervous system. He instantly fell to the ground, and I stepped over him.
But a single child remained and Law and I pressed on towards him. I saw my friend’s grim smile and it scared me, but I think he saw mine, and I think he took fright to it also. We were equals in this bloodless shed. The young one took turns, looking to Law and then to me, and with each look, his terror grew seven-fold. His eyes began to water and he froze – too scared to even drop his blade, but he had most certainly surrendered.
The bell rang out, as did a slow clap from the XA. A pair of medics rushed in from the mire, not that they were needed; and the night was now bitter with the angry wail of a single child, who was now being led away – back to the train.
“Well done Law and Orpheus,” Grassus called to us, raising his hood as the dark heavens above started to fall…
The other master, Dante, finally joined his fellow master’s side. His voice was eerie in this mire; it was as the wind, that swept up the fog and the rain, and wept violently around us. “There is but one challenge left, and you will attest to it now. Collect your blades.”
The new weight felt heavy in my hand. A dangerous switch stood by my thumb, and the blade was as sharp as this night’s chill. I twirled the weight around to admire the perfectly engineered hilt. I could see the faintest reflection of light from the other side. This was a real sword! This was the height of my ambition. This was the object of my every desire. To be like they are. I could have it now. This was everything. I could not fail…
“Hold the blade to your sides. Turn on the switch.”
I clicked the button, and the entire hilt whirred into action; it became hard to hold – for such energy it housed. To think that a jet engine was spinning inside my grip; it was power itself. I felt the blade tug at my hand; it was a battle in itself to keep it steady and still. I could feel it wanting to take me away.
The master, Dante, shouted above the scream of the blades; they were loud, but it was an unruly sound; it did not hurt your ears but it made you incredibly uncomfortable. It sounded like someone dying… “One-point-four seconds; that is the time it takes for optimal air flow to be reached on a world like this. Allow yourselves to grow used to the sensation of the blades.”
My boldness came; I waved the sword to the side, and I felt it spear away; I suffered to make it stay. For this was not some beam of mystical energy; this was simply a turbine, spinning itself hot and loud – a marvel for its size and purpose. It was stunning to behold, but it was difficult to wield. I feared to even think about bringing this down upon a foe – the feel of the metal blade cleaving easily through flesh. It felt like it would get stuck at the bone, but I knew better; it would shatter it first and then push straight through.
I stared at Law who was awestruck by the brilliant weapon in his hand. Then we looked up to the masters. Dante now stood in the full glare of the floodlights and I could still see the recent black stains upon his white robe. His face was stricken with a sudden guilt; then his ordinary severeness returned in full force. “One of you will not make it! This is to be a duel to the death.”
My heart almost exploded; my neck lashed to my friend and my mouth stood ajar. He stared at me with the same fear. His hand started to shake, and his blade started to pull towards me.
The rain began to pour. It beat down upon the stones, yet the turbines in our swords blasted it all away, and rampant rivers raged across the ground. I was furious. My ambition – I had trusted it above anything else. Yet here I stood, and I would not kill my friend.
A bell rang out and I turned to Law. We stood lifelessly in this mire – in the same mire that we had risen to friendship. He was my ally. I saw it in his eyes, and for one moment – one thought in time – I vowed that I would dismantle the XA if they would ever dare to dismantle me – and then the thought left me… but it was still there; it was always there. I turned off my blade – and Law did the same.
“No,” I said quietly, beneath the roar of the rain, yet over the new silence of our weapons; the XA heard me well.
“Why?” Dante asked with narrowing eyes.
“Law is my ally. Law is my friend. There are two of you and two of us. This is a test; there shall be no such duel.”
Dante lowered his hood. It was enough to silence me. But he was not angry – far from it. “Orpheus,” he said. “You are to study under me, and Law, you will be taught by Grassus. And the two of you will find brethren within our order and, further still, you will be bonded to each other as Grassus and I are bonded – a unique station within the XA. As such, you will be taught to operate alone as most in our order do, but unlike the others, you will be paired often and your bond will be honed; this partnership is solely for the purpose of special operations; it is a most esteemed role. We welcome you to the Order of the Undying Faith. Your new lives await you in the XA!”
Just then Grassus broke through. “Be content with your victory, but do not let it blind you. Never think yourselves above what you are. Men – just men. You will always be flesh and bone, but with training and faith, you will be made ready to stand against every manner of danger and evil; and regardless of where that leaves you, you will always, eternally, have true success in your service to the XA. That is your victory – now and forever. For no greater victory there is!” The man beat his hand to his heart, and Law copied him, then I… and then last of all did Dante bring his hand to his chest. He slinked back into the shadows of his fellow master and I saw that a woefully stern expression had returned to make its mark across his weathered face. And all of the while, that we stood there in the rain, saluting the XA, or the Communion, or the Will of the Universe, Dante did not take his eyes from me – not even once – and then I felt that harsh and cold light envelop me gently – and I understood there and then, that all things would come into place, for better or for worse. There was only time and an impact to be made – a permanent dent in the celestial clockface that was, is, and always, will be.
We left Goldenfel that day. I remember the faint look on my parents’ faces – a mixture of pride and fury and pain. In truth, I missed them dearly from the moment I left them, and in the few times that I saw them since, that feeling never really went away. I missed the comfort of my home and my own bed. I missed the midnight sounds of ships from afar landing in the port – a vicarious form of adventure – no fear about it – just pure imagination required. There were many things of home that my mind wandered to, and even now I still do my best to replicate what I once had. Wherever I rest my head becomes a palace fit for the sons of Ra – even if it is a matter of simply conjuring up a mental charm or idolising the surrounding furnishings. Things like that – it’s what keeps you sane… and I could have turned mad a long time ago had I let myself; but I fought then and I fight still; nothing had kept me from the simple notion that I would change everything; and true – the galaxy has changed at my hand. It has changed as it must and it will change even more, but my impact was barely mine alone; it was the culmination of every generation growing increasingly divided, millennia of the same rhetoric growing bolder and more extreme, until the bitter point of insanity. A stagnant dogma upon society, sooner or later it must burst wide open – either the dogma or society. That is a law!
It should not need to be said that my path into the world of the XA was not the path of most; it was twisting and winding and gruelling; and much of what I learnt and came to understand could be traced back to the many words of my master, Dante.
Law and I gingerly stepped onto the boardwalk of the ship. The XA led the way, both removing their hoods as they returned to a place of relative comfort. They both seemed to loosen up. Physically, they held themselves lighter and their voices turned almost familial and humorous, yet they both retained a certain core of themselves; that was quite evident to see. Grassus was far more talkative and engaged when it came to us, and Dante was slightly reserved and hesitant when he had to speak, but often when he did, I detected a wry kind of humour. Both of them were very good-willed, however, and I took a subtle liking and admiration to each.
“These are the flight controls. Yaw – pitch – and roll,” Grassus spoke with energy as Law and I pestered him.
“Well, what are these?” Law asked in a daze, almost grabbing hold of the ship’s puppet strings, before having his hand politely swatted away.
“Secondary – those are the secondary controls – vertical and horizontal thrusters!”
Now it was my turn to chip in. “VTOL, only class two ships and above can do that!”
Grassus looked at me with surprise. “You know your ships! However, most lighter vessels can fly like so – some even make it into space on their own. But to be a true class two, you have to fly VTOL, and have a fully functioning interspace drive, and be able to exit and enter atmospheric bodies unaided. You see, our Nymph fighters are a sub-class two; they do all of the above because they’re engineered to be the exception – off-limit to all but the XA and militaries. They are a relatively new breed of machine – Third Schism. Though, I don’t exactly like the thought of sitting on top of a miniature nuclear reactor – probably come crashing right out of interspace!”
“Interspace?” Law asked.
“Yes… interspace…” Grassus returned the word with such an intrepid curiosity, as if it were, in a way, beyond the realm of understanding – and that he, himself, knew nothing of it. “Interspace is the plane of existence that lies in conjunction with regular space and time. Some claim that it is little more than an energy field, and that may well be true, but it is without question an instrument of the will. Without it, our race would still be stuck in Centarion, and the raptids would still have their wings… The ancients – of the Second Communion – they had scientists that studied the many mysteries of interspace. They managed to produce enough energy to first break through the barrier; then they set to plotting routes – star to star. To this day, we have half of the galactic core plotted out, and the means to plot new routes ourselves. That was enough for us, and now those scientists are all but myths to wonder children with. Yet there are some – still – who dedicate their life’s work to studying interspace as if it were hiding something from us. These engineers – they are ridiculed by all but each other – they who muddy the clear waters of science with their problematic faith, and equally, they who clear the silty waters of faith with their scientific reason.”
I heard my heart slowly beat along to his many words, and I saw Law stuck in a dream. “What do you think – of these engineers?” I asked.
Grassus thought to himself. “Sometimes it takes defeat to find victory. Sometimes one must stop looking up to the sky to be able to see what he already has – beneath his feet. Faith allows for such victory. We already know what we must, so that we can carry out the will. The raptids – they devoted themselves to the stars, but they lost their wings – if they had but kept to their own sky…”
The raptids were the only other known sentient species, and they were few. I understood Master Grassus’ words, for it was a well-known tragedy – a fable for the ears of the young. The raptids were avian – bird-like. They once soared high upon their wings, but they longed for more. They would not stop until they had the heavens above and every star in the sky. They built machines to fly for them. They grew complacent. Reliant. Over the years their once splendid form withered away, and they lost their wings to the metal ones that they had made. Now they were in decline, but their dreams were not; they were perturbed. They lost their sky once; so now they would take every sky from the plenty – we humans. They claimed every sky – even the great void itself. But they were few and beyond outnumbered; so, as far as I knew, we let them dream. That was what I once thought – that was until the first war came along. The Sentience War!
The ship awoke and it was a beast to be feared. Grassus spoke through a headset and agreed to an assisted take-off. I felt the entire ship move forwards and I raced to the cockpit, where Law was already held in wonder, and I watched as the entire floor of this docking bay began to slide itself through the shimmering blue airlock and into the great abyss that was the port. A thousand metres high we were perched, and I craned my head up to see the single orb of sky above. Its light sunk down, gradually leeching itself into shadow as if we were in the depths of some mystical lake. I felt myself much lighter too, almost as if I were in such a lake. Then Grassus set to work, resetting dials and punching buttons before he slowly sunk his hand onto a lever.
“Ready?” he asked, as the entire port began to light itself in a dangerous wash of red – the danger that would be ourselves, hurtling upwards.
Law looked to me, afraid… I was too… I had never flown in anything before; I had just read about it; I just—
The master suddenly slammed the lever down, and the engines roared with such bestial energy, and before my mind could even comprehend what was happening, I saw each level of the port pass in but the blink of an eye, and then… we were in the sky.
As soon as we had left the port, my body began to crush back down into the seat, and then the lights in my mind dimmed, and I could just barely see the silhouettes of Goldenfel’s tallest towers below me – below me!
To think that I, at this moment, was higher than each of the noble families. As my eyes saw true again, I looked upon the extent of their status and power and it amused me. Yet I did not laugh at them; I laughed because of the pure thrill of this impossible motion. We were hurtling higher and higher. When would it ever stop? A continuous stream of ice and fire in the very pit of my stomach. I did not know whether to scream or cry. My home was being destroyed before my very eyes – mutating -distorting! The grand city became a speck and the once endless fields of golden wheat were scattered into small yellow seas which dotted the northern hemisphere, and then I saw real oceans emerge. I had never even seen an ocean. I did not think I would see my first ones like this. The entire planet was falling away from us and I watched in horror as Goldenfel became an overwhelming green – not gold… The south was almost untouched, and there were beige markings of deserts and then ice caps at the poles, and there was a vast collection of clouds, swirled across the waters and the lands. And as we raced ever further away, I began to see a crescent of darkness cast upon my home. It was the night, and with the night came a myriad of warm luminescent specks – cities – the cradles of humanity.
And then we came to a halt; I was weightless again, and the ship calmed itself to a lullaby hum, and there in all her glory was Goldenfel – the breadbasket of the Communion. She was a strange planet – of great beauty – and of great sorrow.
Looking back now, I think that she came to become a metaphor for life itself. My mind could barely understand how she was both so large and yet so small; in my eyes, she was a jewel of this dark void, but travel far and she would become little more than a grain of light, eventually lost in darkness eternal. It was impossible to truly comprehend that Goldenfel existed at each of these magnitudes at any given time – that there were thousands of miles of fields and mountains and lakes – that there were millions of people, each living their lives down there…
It was all too much to even think about.
Law and I turned away from the only world that we had ever known; I saw my friend gradually pale and wilt in his seat. The ship rolled towards a bright light – near upon the only star that could withstand Goldenfel’s celestial glare. Centarion was in sight – a magnificent ball of fire – the epitome of my heart’s desire. My ambition was nigh. The dream was finally awoken.
Grassus spoke into his headset again, “Dante, we’re ready! Let’s break open the barrier.”
“Copy that,” came an electrified reply.
Within moments the ship began to shiver and shake. A bold blue light crept from behind us; it soon flooded all – from the engine rooms at the rear to the rugged metal instruments in the cockpit. The temperature started to rise also. Dials went wild and lights began to flash vehemently, and if my eyes were not mistaken, the dark frontier beyond the scratched glass canopy began to dance. Distant stars burnt to light and then swirled apart, and yet Centarion alone remained still. The temperature grew even more now; I began to sweat.
“Grassus, you’re good to go,” the voice came again, as I watched the master take a deep breath. He reached over to the wall and took hold of a handle, and in one mighty motion, he whipped its corded entrails from the very bones of the ship. A grand splutter resulted and then the blue light before us grew exponentially; the heat scalded my skin like the summer glow of Goldenfel Prime and her sistren. Then I watched in a flighty terror as space itself began to tear apart – uneven and messy. It looked like a cavity being burnt into a black piece of paper. I stared darkly into another world, and the ship slowly lulled itself forwards. I seized my seat as I watched this abyssal gate wrap itself around us – caressing the glass until we were within this other space.
Complete darkness reigned over us. Only the lights from the ship revealed the surrounding towers of gas clouds, which plumed around this strange sky in a pastel palette – mossy greens, lilac, and beige. From the ship came smoke – black smoke, that swirled with strange mannerisms, clinging onto the external glass canopy and any fixture that it could find. It seemed alive – conscious even. I remember putting my hand up to the glass and the smoke danced apart to meet my five fingers; the glass was hot! I let go and the smoke returned to its business. “Fascinating!” Grassus murmured as he tried to do the same, yet the smoke just flitted carelessly past his open palm.
Now and then, the outer dark was thwarted by a wayward flash – lightning or distant gasses igniting. I was able to gaze far out during these phenomena – far out to the sides and above. We were creeping ever forwards, but there was an entire expanse to be seen and explored. “What happens if you stray from this path?” I asked.
Grassus snapped his eyes to me, as if I were deranged. “Interspace fights back…”
Then Law and I were sent to rest and explore the ship. By Communion Dawn, Centarion would be upon us.
My friend retreated to our cabin; he said that his head was elsewhere; he needed to come down. I, however, was quietly eager for more.
I wandered the ship; she was truly a thing of beauty. Down the middle was a long passage, and you could see the cockpit on one end and the engine room on the other. The engines sat below this deck, but there was a balcony from which to observe them. They were two incomprehensible blocks – steaming and gurgling away. If I were to have stood next to them then they would have towered twice my height and thrice that in length.
I explored the communal area next. There was a long, padded couch that curved like a crescent, and a low table sat in its centre; I saw that it had a speaker built into it. The last thing that grabbed my attention was this curved screen that hung from the ceiling. It protruded out from a gyroscopic arm and could be extended in any direction.
I made my way to the galley just beyond; it was all open plan and the two spaces blended as one. It was a fine space – a perfect mixture of rugged and homely. It was barely more than steel counters and other metal fixtures, but it felt lived in and well used. There was a fill machine, to produce a cup at the press of a button, and there were various boxes of teas. They came from all over the known galaxy – even some from raptid space. I desperately took the chance to smell them each; for they were exotic; they were quite irregular – far from the Goldenfel norm.
Once I had finished, I found my way to Dante’s cabin. I had a gift for my new master.
“Come in,” called a sharp voice.
I entered and closed the door behind me. Dante looked away from his papers and glared at me, before softening his two eyes. “Master?” I asked.
“Just Dante, please,” he politely stressed; it took me off guard. I thought that he would have been fond of formality. However, here he was dressed simply in a plain tunic – not his robe anymore. He had no hood to hide beneath and he seemed to me like just a man. There was nothing otherworldly about him, as I had once thought the XA to be. He welcomed me in and pulled out a spare seat. He then spoke to me with a tone that made it feel as if we had known each other for many years. “So, how are you finding this all?” he asked.
“It’s – it’s something else entirely,” I said. “Never once have I left Goldenfel, or even strayed far from the cities. It’s incredible – and to be… to be in interspace!”
“Yes, interspace… it’s quite something. All the hidden mysteries that it must conceal; I mean, we are in another plane of existence! And everything about our current civilisation depends on it – even our comms have to go through its desolate expanse; it’s truly incredible.” I nodded along, amazed to find another soul as curious as mine. I was taken by his words. “What’s even more incredible is that we place such trust into something that we are so reluctant to understand!”
“How do you mean?” I asked, and Dante smiled softly.
He replied in a softer, lower tone, “The Communion is built on faith, and our galactic society is built on interspace – a function of the universe, so mysterious, so unknown. Now for the Communion to bring interspace under the mighty wheel that is their faith, it must retain its mystery. They despise anyone who would investigate it or try to make sense of its many wonders. Even though we would be able to learn to use it better, to do incredible things, it simply scares the Communion too much – that their subservient people may begin to challenge what is known and therefore see the limitations of their blind faith… because there are many, I tell you…” I sensed that Dante was growing restless; his breath had become short and his face seemed almost exasperated. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m getting away with myself!”
“No! It’s fascinating. It reminds me of my days being lectured by the maids about the universe, and their stories, their… facts as they were… were just so…”
“Simple!”
“Simple, yes! And there’s so much more to be known. They want to bring glory to the universe, and yet they tell such a lifeless tale of its birth – a tale that is just impossible to believe, purely because it does not share the same wonder of our existence; it is dulled down!”
Dante watched me like a hawk scouring a valley for prey; and then his eyes widened. “Surely one must be allowed to develop their understanding of the world in order to grow in faith. It’s not complex; the Communion offers a faith with the universe as the head, and yet we are frowned upon for even trying to understand the universe. It’s mindless hypocrisy, and I tell you, Orpheus, the key to understanding this life, this world, this universe… is through interspace. For it is intertwined with this world; it holds us up like the pillars of a temple; there is just so much more to know. Now, I have never doubted the spirituality of our existence; after all, I have travelled down the astral halls… The dust – I took it once, the same as you. I saw my demons; I saw the beast, and I have seen many more such things in my time. There is a great consciousness at work, but I am beginning to believe that it is far removed from the Communion and the XA – that a religious authority may abuse their position of faith, and preach it in such a way which would solely benefit themselves… And that there, my apprentice – is heresy! Enough to warrant expulsion from our little order.”
“Expulsion?” I whispered.
“Oh, yes!” The master raised his brow and sunk into his chair, crossing his hands together. “Does that bother you?” he asked slowly. “Or would you rather have… Grassus teach you?”
My heart began to palpitate with some primal urgency. I stared off into the metal wall – at the faint glimmer that was myself. I was lost in thought and the room became silent. Finally, a single word fell from my throat, “No,” I said, and Dante began to smile. His head nodded slowly.
“You are my first, and you will be my only apprentice! And I refuse to fill your mind with this system of blind faith – that corrupts our freedom of thought and our ability to learn. It angers me that our government – which claims to be humanitarian – would willingly push us to such ignorance, all for the sake of their stability and control. It makes me sick!” Dante hung his head back – eyes to the metal sky. “One day – one day, Orpheus – there will be a time when everything changes… Until that day, I wait.”
“I am grateful that you are my master. I think that we were brought together for a reason. The beast spoke of change too – the Taurus!”
Suddenly my master took his eyes from the ceiling and drew them down to me; his glare was a deathly glower. “The Taurus? You conversed with it…? What did it say?”
“I thought that Grassus would have told you…”
“Orpheus…!”
“It said that it had been waiting millennia for the one who would change everything…”
“It once said the same to me—”
“That was not all… I did not have a demon…” Dante’s eyes fell still and wide before they began to search my face remorselessly. “And when I told him that, he clawed into my mind – my future and past – and then when he was done, he became maniacal, and he let Law and myself go, before taking to the heavens…”
“The realm… it must have fallen apart! That’s why the circle broke… Orpheus, this is quite some news—”
“I just thought that Grassus would have—”
“Well, he did not…! And that is a concern… But listen to me; no one can know of this – no one at all. I take it that Law knows, but he won’t understand; we must ensure that he doesn’t let it out, but we can’t let Grassus hear us speak of it either; he will grow suspicious. I think that you are right, Orpheus; we were brought together for a reason. Any other master would have taken this straight to the Committee…”
“Why?” I asked quietly.
“Oh, Orpheus, you do not know how vast this is. An astral beast, an embodiment of the universe itself, the Taurus, has deemed you a harbinger of change; he has waited thousands of years for this. You represent the one thing that the XA and the Communion fear the most, more than death itself… Change! And that is why no one must know… Yet we must watch Grassus; he carries the dogma of the XA as if it were his own child. However, he does also hold a great deal more autonomy than the rest of the masters; he will likely keep the matter to himself unless given the concern to speak of it. Don’t worry about Law; I will make sure that this information doesn’t slip from his young self. Now, you must be tired; so, please get some rest. We will be in Centarion soon.”
Before I left Dante to his own devices, I produced a bottle – the bottle that my father had given me. I had been lugging it around ever since this ordeal began, and finally, I was able to hand the burden over.
My master let wide a great smile, and he laughed. He took the bottle gladly and took care to examine the label well. “Thank you, Orpheus!”
As I left the cabin, I saw Grassus coming from my room; he had checked in on Law, and when he saw me, he smiled starkly and nodded curtly. He then went to visit Dante. I heard them speaking in the distance. “You two were in there for a while. What were you doing?”
“Training!” Dante said with his wry voice.
“Already?”
“What can I say? I’ve taken kindly to my new role. How about you…?”
And so, my life in the XA began, as did my particular teachings under Dante’s unique brand of philosophy. I remember feeling giddy and scared, almost guilty in a way. For no child should ever like to go against the grain, but I knew that it was necessary – not because of myself or my wants, but simply because I knew it was the right thing to do.
It was the right thing to do.