Weight of Worlds

Esmund shifted as he tried to concentrate, but he could smell her. He took in another deep breath, filling his nose with her scent. Like a spring breeze over flowers bathing in sun as the last grasps of winter finally let’s go and life re-enter the world.

“Esmund, focus!” Kirs scolded.

Esmund opened his eyes, unable to stop the smile from crossing his lips as he saw her. “I’m sorry.”

Kirs’ stern expression melted. She leaned over giving him a brief kiss. “I know this isn’t your strong suit. But this might be important. There isn’t a lot of specific information available on advancing, unfortunately. But this might be a real help. Even if it isn’t, then it’s still going to be usable for other things.”

“Like what?” Esmund asked, stretching his legs out one at a time.

“Like understanding and feeling your tether and element.” Kirs said. “Ranvir said he managed to forge together space like Figir described in her book, allowing her to stop powerful blows.”

Esmund frowned. “I’ll try harder.”

“Good.”

He took one last look at her, the length of a deep breath. As he exhaled, he shut his eyes and tried to fall into a state of concentration. He was sitting in a ring of crushed obsidian, four candles spread evenly around him and he was wearing a fresh set of clothes.

Kirs had said he should be feeling a sort of trance-like state come over him, but Esmund hadn’t felt anything. Let alone fallen into a trance-like state. Focusing on his breathing, he continued trying.

At first, he’d been bothered by Ranvir being demonstrably better at something than him. When he realized it was just his hurt pride complaining, he’d swiftly silenced it. Ranvir hadn’t had a lot going for him. That he could manage this ‘state’ in his first try, and Esmund hadn’t, should not bother him.

They kept trying for another thirty minutes, before Kirs called it off. “We’ll try again the day after tomorrow.”

Esmund looked back at his friends as they idly wandered along behind him. Part of him wanted to hurry them along, but he knew it wouldn’t help. They wouldn’t get there any faster by him bothering them. He would just have to go and save them some seats.

He’d been astonished, when he’d run by the theater this morning during physical. He’d seen it yesterday and though some progress had been made, they were far from finished. There’d been an excess of dirt piled onto the side. The benches had been rough dirt and stone, and the stage had just been a somewhat even plane of bare soil before the seating.

Now, as Esmund ran down into the massive amphitheater he saw what the finished project looked like. The benches were made of a pale-gray stone that ran the semicircle length of the theater. The plane in the middle had gotten a smooth layer of polished black obsidian laid on top of it, with a single podium in the middle.

He gaped at the display before him. The contrast of pale stone and the intensely black volcanic glass led everyone’s attention to the stage before them. It was absolutely massive, Esmund couldn’t judge how many people could sit on the benches. He’d seen some of the in door class rooms, they were set up like a theater too, but could at most hold a hundred people.

Many times that many could fit here. They were still early from physical, and most of the seating hadn’t been taken yet. Esmund easily found a spot towards the front, so he could easily hear the speaker.

It only took a few more minutes before his friends joined him. “What do you think’s going on? They’re going to announce something?” Esmund asked them as they sat down. More people were streaming in and the chatter was starting to grow in volume.

Grev’s mouth split into a knowing smile, as he leaned back resting with his hands behind his head.

“Don’t mind him.” Sansir said, rolling his eyes. “He knows something and won’t tell the rest of us. What we’ve come up with is some sort of announcement related to the second trimester, but probably something bigger. You saw how much of a rush they were in to have this thing built.”

“And it can seat at least two thousand people.” Ranvir said, adding to the conversation. “Probably, they’re either going to go through an announcement to the entire student populace one year at a time, or it’s specifically related to us.”

“I guess we’ll know soon enough.” Grev replied, closing his eyes.

Esmund nodded and waited patiently. For about five minutes. At this point the chatter of the crowd settling into the seats had grown into a hellish racket. Only the toll of the bell could ring out over this noise.

First, he started leaning side to side, then his legs started bopping up and down. He idly fiddled with his fingers, but kept from saying anything.

Ranvir pointed towards one of the stairways leading down the amphitheater. The stage was situated towards the outside of the academy, so all the seats looking either out onto an empty field, all the harvest having been pulled in, or down to the stage. This meant that most approaching the theater would come from behind the people seated in it.

“It’s Pashar.” Ranvir muttered, his voice held a dark tone Esmund didn’t like. Pashar was coming down the stairs behind an older man. His hair was more gray than it was black, and he was clean shaven. He supported his weight with a cane, a scar running across his jaw and up his cheek, ending at his mangled left ear.

“Who’s that?” Esmund asked, but none of the others seemed to be able to answer. He was wearing the same elaborate uniform as the Masters, but something about him made Esmund think of him as different.

Esmund cleared his throat, instinctively sitting up a little straighter. The man was straight-backed, despite age and obvious injury. The way he walked with the cane, especially once he came onto the stage seemed like an afterthought. Like he needed it, but only barely.

He stopped in front of the podium of obsidian placed on the stage and cleared his throat, the sound making it’s way across the stage and up the seating with ease.

“First year students.” The man called out. His voice was gravelly and authoritative, sounding like how Esmund imagined a General would. “I’m sure only a few of you know who I am, so I’ll make a quick introduction.

“My name is Ragnar. Five years ago, I was the Lord General of the Elusrian army, ranked only under the Lord’s Council, Master’s Council and the Queen, may she reign with honor. I’ve since retired and been brought out of retirement to become your new principal.”

That sent murmurs through the crowd, Esmund among them. “New principal?” He looked first to Ranvir, who was looking at Grev.

“Now, if you want more specifics you can go look in the library for it.” The principal, Ragnar, said, interrupting the murmurs. “For you, this is mostly a courtesy announcement, as you have little idea of how the academy used to be run. In an effort to avoid slandering my predecessor, I shall be brief. He liked to run the classes with no oversight. Each teacher a tiny king over their class.”

Ragnar continued his voice turning hard as obsidian for a moment. “That is over. We’ve always known that pain is an excellent motivator. Some teachers decide not to use it and that’s fine, they are many other ways of motivating students. I personally prefer using pain, as it rarely means students has to learn a lesson twice. But some teachers used that as an excuse to run rampant. Last trimester, this led to some drama amongst the students and teachers.”

Esmund smiled as he elbowed Ranvir in the side. Ranvir just shook his head, his new paler eyes looking down.

“That is not an excuse for a student to come running anytime they believe a teacher steps out of line. The student in question got lucky. He’d seen precious little of the class and decided he knew how it was run.”

Esmund sucked in a breath, hearing a few murmurs and more than one student looked in their direction. Ranvir visibly shriveled into himself. Ragnar stared over the crowd for a moment, eyes digging holes into the seating.

“As part of this new effort, there will be new schedules delivered to you.” Principal Ragnar continued. “There will also be a new presence of administration on the campus and we’re bringing in more administrators to help with this effort.” He nodded to Pashar, who briefly smiled back. “Another issue was that of the medical staff on stand by, or rather the lack thereof, after the departure of the second through fifth year students leaving for the front lines. On behalf of my predecessor and all that we stand for, I would like to express how sorry I am. Whether it was a mess up in administration or not, it is on our shoulders to take care of, protect, and prepare you for what comes ahead. In that department, the academy grossly failed.

“I’m sorry.” The grizzled warrior bowed over the podium. The entire amphitheater filled with the silence that followed his apology. Esmund could sense sincere apology coming off the old man in waves as, his somber attitude helping to punch home the fact that they’d been failed and how deeply he regretted it.

Coming up from the bow, the principal took in a deep breath. “Your new schedules will be delivered later today and they start tomorrow.”

He looked out over the crowd, his eyes stopping briefly on Dovar, then Esmund. The weight of his gaze made Esmund’s soul shiver.

“Dismissed.”