Weight of Worlds

Ranvir ate dinner alone. He couldn’t immediately find the others, and he was too exhausted to search for long. Returning to their common room, he found them lounging in a sofa. They greeted him with a warm, if muted, response.

Sansir and Grev were playing chess again, so Ranvir sat down with Esmund to watch them.

“How are you all here so early?” He asked, after a few minutes of silent watching.

Esmund blinked, stirring slightly from his seat on the couch. “Teacher said I could go, once I finished the task.”

“Me too.” Grev added, not looking up from his game. Sansir simply grunted an affirmative.

Ranvir frowned reclining further into the couch. He was the only one that hadn’t done the task then. Was it all just sensing pressure?

Thankfully, they seemingly didn’t have the energy to ask him to elaborate on his reason for being late. Or they knew better than to ask.

The next few days passed quickly for Ranvir. They were a frustrating, exhaustion-filled haze of minutes slipping into hours, slipping into days. Each were topped with him returning to the common room, where Sansir and Grevor were playing chess. Occasionally, one of them would be demolishing Esmund in a game. More than once, he went into their room just off the common room to crack open Figir's books.

At first he would struggle against the sounds of the room just behind the door, the laughter and general murmur of talk slipping through the cracks in the door. It didn't distract him as much as it made him realize how much he was missing by taking the time away to read. Then when he finally forced his attention on the books, he would struggle to stay awake. His sore body both physically and emotionally catching up to him as he sat down and started to relax. At least, he'd seen more than one student slip off into dreams in the common room too, even Esmund did it once. Seemingly Grev and Sansir were the only ones largely untouched by the rigorous schedule.

Speaking of Grev and Sansir, they spent most of their free time playing chess against each other, while talking amongst the group, mainly with Esmund. Ranvir often found himself preferring to watch and listen in groups, and he liked to pay attention to their chess games, trying to figure out what they were going to do next.

At least he found out how the torches worked. The gave off a soothing yellow light, similar enough to normal torches that it pricked his recognition. They almost seemed to have a rejuvenating effect, he always felt a little better after eating dinner under their light. Even the lounges were lit by them, despite the shuttered windows.

On the fourth day, the second-to-last day of their first week of classes at the academy, something interesting happened. After Grev beat Esmund in a game of chess, which was promptly followed by Sansir repeating the feat, Esmund let some of his frustration out.

“I’ll show you something, I bet none of you can do.” He grabbed an apple he’d brought from the cafeteria but never got around to eating. “Watch this.”

He hesitated for a second, apple in one hand as he looked at the table and chessboard in front of him. Then he slowly pushed the chessboard off to the side. His king had already been toppled anyway.

Placing the apple on the table. He closed his eyes, facial features intent, as he took in a deep breath. He sat there for nearly a full minute, none of them speaking. He raised a finger in front of his apple, before passing it down in a line. Droplets of juice spurted an inch into the air, following the movement.

Ranvir gasped as Sansir leaned forward grabbing the apple. “No way.” He muttered, easily tearing the apple apart. There was a clean line running a third of the way through the apple, the rest torn apart by the Sansir’s fingers.

“That’s incredible.” Grev said, reaching over and clapping Esmund on the shoulder. Ranvir nodded in agreement, smiling as broadly as he could at his friend, while trying to swallow his own sickly green nausea.

Yesterday, Teacher Floki had gone into length about their quick growth in the first couple weeks at the academy. He’d emphasized though, that the true talents of the school will show themselves capable of expressing their abilities soon.

Esmund was using warp, while Ranvir still couldn’t even sense his stupid power. He thought of the books lying in his drawer. They’d been lying there since the day classes had started, untouched. He hadn’t had the mental energy to even peek at them, but if his friends were already sensing their power’s desire to escape, and Esmund was actively working his, then maybe he’d need to find that energy.

I won’t fail. He reached up to the necklace hidden under his uniform. Pressing them against his chest, feeling the three rings push into chest. I can’t fail.

Physical wasn’t getting any easier either. It was, if anything, more exhausting than it was on the first day, since they didn’t get time to recover. The exercises varied, but they always started with the ‘warm-up’ jog, which to Ranvir seemed like an unrelenting run. Though he’d heard from Grev, who’d talked to some of the second years, that starting next week, they would at least be allowed breakfast first.

It was a comforting thought, if only slightly so. Worse than the ‘jogs’, were the exercises after. They had done very little in terms of strength training, the majority of their time spent on running.

Ranvir was certain he would’ve developed blisters on his feet, if not for his month-and-a-half long trek across the country. That was one good moment, when he’d seen Grevor sitting at their couch, worrying at a blister, while Sansir was beating Esmund metaphorically bloody in chess.

They’d matched up in one of the games, once. It was a two-versus-two game of burpees. The first group to do three alternating sets of burpees each won. With Esmund starting against Grev, it had looked easy. Like they could keep up.

By the time Esmund finished his first set, Sansir was already half-way through his second. It only went downhill from there. When Esmund had just begun his third set, Ranvir heaving for breath on the ground next to him, Grev had already returned with their tokens for the win.

Of course, just 'cause there already was a winner, wasn’t a reason for them to stop, something Teacher Vigo had made absolutely sure every student knew.

“Does your teacher know you can do this?” Grev asked. He was now examining the sheared apple.

“No.” Esmund said, quietly. “We’re not supposed to even try until sometime next week, I think.” Ranvir forced down his wrong colored feelings, as he looked at Esmund. He seemed a little worried, which surprised Ranvir. “You’re not gonna tell on me, are you?”

“Of course not.” Ranvir said, immediately. “Just don’t disobey your teacher too much, okay?”

Esmund nodded, looking relieved.

“Why aren’t you supposed to express yourself, yet?” Ranvir continued, as Grev took the apple from Sansir.

“Probably because it’s dangerous. I mean this is warp we’re talking about.” Grev answered, his tone making it clear he thought it was obvious.

Ranvir and Sansir looked blankly at Grev, though Esmund nodded along.

“Warp is just cutting.” Esmund explained. “If you-“ He gestured at Sansir. “Hit yourself with your power, then it’s cold fingers for a couple of minutes. If I do that, I could lose them.”

Ranvir leaned forward, looking intently at Esmund’s eyes. “It’s that dangerous. Your teacher’s right, you should be more careful.”

Grev rolled his eyes, falling back into his chair. “Lay off him. If he cuts himself, then he’ll learn a lesson. There are healers on staff at the academy, they’d probably fix him right up.” He raised the apple still in his hand. “Besides, he couldn’t even cut through an entire apple. How would he do against bone, you think?”

Ranvir sighed leaning back into his own seat, on the couch. “I guess, you’re right.”

“Thanks.” Esmund whispered, loudly enough for everyone to hear.

“I got you.” Grev replied, bumping his shoulder with the hand holding the apple. “Have you put thought into what Discipline you’re going to pick?”

“Well, I asked Teacher Svenar about it.” Esmund picked up a chess piece with his left hand. “He suggested the Discipline of the Piercer, since I’m left handed, so I would be better suited for it. Also attacking my enemies from a distance sounds like a great use for my power.” He shoved his hand forwards as if thrusting a blast of cutting force into the opposite wall.

“I thought left handed meant you were a better fit for the Body Discipline?” Grev sat up straighter in his seat. “That’s what I’ve always heard.”

“Not what Svenar said.” Esmund replied. “Left hand for Piercer, right hand for Wings and if you can either or neither, then it’s the Body Discipline.”

Ranvir looked at his friends. He knew very little about Disciplines, but resolved to ask Floki about it tomorrow. He was aware that it was part of how strength was measured, but the exacts of each Discipline was lost on him.

“I heard it was eye color.” Sansir said. “Some of the students in the cafeteria were talking about it.”

“Don’t be silly.” Grev said, waving his idea away. “Why would eye color have any measure on what Discipline you’re best at? Besides there are only really two colors in Elusria, but three Disciplines that doesn’t quite add up.”

“There are three general eye colors in Elusria, Blue-“ Sansir pointed at Grev and Esmund, “brown-“ pointed at Ranvir, “and green.” Sansir pointed a thumb at himself. “Depending on the depth of color, it determines where your abilities lie. Someone with gray eyes, have equal talent with all Disciplines and can pick as they see fit.”

“Green eyes are a lot less common than you think. Besides there’s still yellow eyes.” Grev smugly stretched an arm across the back of his seat.

“That’s a myth. Nobody has yellow eyes.”

Sansir was leaning over the table at this point. The situation as tense as any chess game between them, despite Grev’s apparent relaxation. Though, if Ranvir were to guess, Grev would win this one. The look on his face spoke of a trap.

“The Queen does. And her children too.” He shifted in his chair, similar to when he’d managed to catch Sansir’s king in a clever maneuver. “It’s part of the royal bloodline. In fact, all true blooded royals have yellow eyes.”

Sansir’s disbelief was clear on his face. “You just say that because you know we haven’t seen the queen.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Grev replied, with a confident smirk.

“Why wouldn’t the tether determine which Discipline fit best?” Ranvir asked, curiously.

“That’s what I thought, too.” Esmund replied quickly. “Svenar said, that for a long time that was a theory. In the small details most tethers are very similar. They all rotate slightly in the same direction. The number of threads might have an effect, but the numbers vary from a few who have three, or less, to some that supposedly have a dozen threads.”

“Not to mention you’ll grow more threads as you get stronger.” Grev added. “And you haven’t mentioned the patterns yet-“

“I was getting to it.” Esmund interrupted, Grev’s interruption. “The tether patterns, generally there are four accepted patterns. The loop, the knot, the braiding and the spreading. Svenar said that they don’t mean anything, it’s like the wind. There is no greater reason for their appearance than it’s the will of the Triplet Goddess.”

Ranvir nodded. It sort of made sense to him, there were many things in the world, that had no reason behind it, beyond the Goddess’ will. The wind and the seasons were driven entirely by the Goddess’ will after all.

Not long after that they all went to bed, their exhaustion driving them into the arms of Father Night.