Chapter 59: The Bond That Ran Both Ways.

“You are sure you can walk?” Ash asked. It was her third time since we had left the room, by my counting.

“I can walk reasonably well,” I said. I had said the same thing the last two times. I suspected I would say the same thing the next three as well.

“Hmm….” Ash said. She walked beside me, closer than the walking required. She moved close every time I took an uncertain step, before hurriedly moving back when it became clear that I would never do something as undignified as falling.

Sol chirped from between my horns. Students eyed us as we passed. Some of them had the same fear on their faces they’d had before. Most did not. The ratio had changed again. Was that because of the news the Archon had said he would spread? That was possible. The masses were quick to go where they were pointed, especially when they thought the pointing was theirs all along.

“I didn’t think you’d be excited to take a class.” Ash said.

“I am not excited. And it is reasonable to not waste time.” In my right hand I held one of those strange wooden devices, its face alight with engraved words. Edda had been right. There had been two of these devices inside our new room’s desk. There had likely been two more in the room we had abandoned.

The tool had more uses than the girl had initially suggested. A trickle of Essence showed the classes running, or about to start, where they were held, who taught them. A thought paired with the Essence, and the result was different.

For instance, if I thought of the Body Conditioning class, then the device would show me when the next was to be held. If I thought of a class that had to do with ‘weapons training’, it would show me those too, even if I only vaguely knew what I sought.

In that, this tool was not very different from how the Athenaeum itself worked. How curious. Magic that could both read and interpret thoughts. It wasn’t an impossible power in my time, but it was a rare one. To see it used here, to run something as meager as this Academy was odd indeed.

“It’s a left around here.” Ash pointed. I nodded and turned. A passing girl hurriedly stepped out of the way before I barreled into her.

The hallway opened up ahead. And then, we were in another one of these yards. It seemed we were just in time for the class I meant to inspect. Beast Taming was, by any measure, the class most beneath my notice. I did not need to know of every other class at this Academy to know that much.

Combat classes anyone could understand the value of. The conditioning, Ash had assured me, would have its uses. Even the forging, humiliating as my current failures were, at least demanded some craft. This, however, was nothing but the business of binding a beast to one’s will.

I had done it before. I had bound the [Great Serpent] to my will when she had just been a hatchling. I had seen Zera bind more creatures than I could recall. The method was simple. You found the beast. You established dominance, either through strength or imprinting. The beast would either have to submit, or it would have to accept death instead.

Sol’s bond had been formed through imprinting rather than subjugation, which simplified matters further. At the moment of hatching, my presence had been the first she had known. The familiar served. This was the shape of it. It was all rather simple.

I did not see what any instructor could teach me about a thing I had already mastered. But perhaps there was some meager instruction I might learn from. If only to learn what not to do. That was why I was here.

Sol chirped from my head. I reached up and adjusted her position, tilting her slightly so that the morning wind would not find her face. She settled. “You will be on your best behaviour,” I said. “I expect you to demonstrate the superior bearing of your station. If any of the lesser creatures attempt to approach you, you may hiss. Only once. We are above displays.” Sol chirped in what was clearly agreement.

Ash let out a small breath next to me. It sounded like a laugh caught too late. I regarded her, but she was pointedly looking elsewhere.

The yard for this class was the largest I had seen yet. It stretched in all directions. At its center, someone had constructed what appeared to be a course of some kind. At least, that was the only word I had for it.

It was made of small obstacles and low tunnels that ended at a narrow plank, raised perhaps a foot off the ground, and finally a ribbon tied to a post at the far end. It looked like something built for children. The Inker stood in the middle of it. Almost half a dozen students had gathered, each with their own strange beast.

The Inker was a broad man with a beard that had clearly not seen scissors in some time. The man was only at Sigil, judging by the branching yellow lines trailing up his left arm. Even through the Sigil, I could see that his forearm was far more scarred than marked.

On his shoulder perched a small brown creature. It looked, at first glance, like a hellrat of some kind. It had whiskers. It was grooming one of its paws. There was nothing to suggest it was anything more than a rodent, and I judged the man accordingly.

The man looked away from the course and regarded us. Then his eyes moved to Sol. He motioned to the small line in front of him. Ash and I looked at each other, before taking our place at its end. “You are the two Consecrated.” He met my gaze, then Ash’s. His gaze never went to my horns, though his eyes had widened, just slightly, when we first came in. Then he looked up at Sol. “And she is the bird. Hesta told me about her.”

We said nothing. The man nodded, made one more sweep over all of the students. “‘Lright. Don’t look like there will be anyone else. My name is Inker Tarn, though I bet most of you know that already,” he said, by way of introduction. The wooden device had said as much. “We got some new faces today, so I’ll go over the basics. Just once.”

He took us all in. “It’s all very simple. A bond is a partnership. You feed each other. You learn each other. You fail together and you succeed together, and in time you don’t know where one of you ends and the other begins. Not many people are lucky enough to have a bond, and boy do a lot of people try. If you have one, it’s more important than your mark.” The man paused, “…don’t tell any of the others I said that, you hear?”

Partnerships. That was the word he had used. I filed it away as the particular delusion of a man whose familiar was a rodent. He raised one finger toward me, and the mouse was suddenly no longer on his shoulder. It was on my arm.

I did not see it cross. I did not feel it land. The small creature was simply there, and its black eyes regarded me with interest. Sol hissed from atop my head.

“Minne,” Tarn said mildly. The mouse returned to him. I did not see that either. This creature moved fast. “She shifts through spaces,” he said. “Don’t ask me how, I don’t know either. She’s a good girl.” The mouse groomed her paw.

It was a good thing the rodent had left, or Sol would have turned it into her next meal.

Tarn gestured to the course. “This class is real easy. Each of you is gonna guide your familiar through the course and retrieve the ribbon at the end. Simple, right? I know some of you might think this is beneath you. Well, let’s see you all prove it then. No carrying or nothing like that. If you do something, use the bond.”

Every student around me seemed to accept this with varying degrees of fear, or something close to it. I accepted it as the lowest possible bar. Sol would retrieve the ribbon, or she would incinerate it. Either outcome would suffice.

“Well now, let’s take turns. More ‘an enough time for everyone. Look at the course first. I’ll pick who goes when.” At this, the line of students split. One of them -a boy so pale he looked a ghost- gave me a wary look. None of the others had so much as looked away from their beasts. None of these beasts reacted to Sol the way the ones in the Beast Hall had. Was that because of their proximity to their masters? It had to be.

The Inker stepped forward, and his gaze was only on Ash. “Well lass? Why are you here?”

“Me?”

“Who else? Don’t see nothing with you. The bird is hers, but you don’t have nothin’. Why are you here?”

Ash hesitated. “I want to be here. Can I not watch?”

The man’s fingers trailed over his beard. “She is my retainer,” I cut in, my voice sharp. “If she wishes to watch, that is no concern of yours.”

The Inker looked at me, then back at Ash. “Ah…it’s like that huh? These young ones these days.” He muttered under his breath. We almost didn’t hear him. “No skin off my back. Watch if ya want.” Then, he turned away.

“I do not entirely disagree,” I said in a low voice. “You do not have to be here. I am perfectly capable of attending this myself.” My legs did not ache at all, so long as I stood still. Even the Ember Core seemed more agreeable today.

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“I want to be here,” Ash said.

I looked at her. Her jaw was set, and I knew by now what that meant. She would not budge, no matter how I prodded. “Very well,” I said. “In exchange for your service…I will observe a class of your choosing, next.”

Ash blinked. “You will what?”

“There must be something in this Academy that is for you, but not for me. I will watch, and I will pay attention.”

“Lys you don’t have t-“

“It is an honor. Would you spurn it?” My red eyes bored into her blue ones. “Besides…I am curious about what you’ll pick,” I said, this time in a much lower voice.

I almost thought Ash would disagree. That I would have to press her more firmly. “Okay I’ll think-“

“Will ya two lovebirds join us?!” The Inker’s voice was very loud when he tried.

A couple of the students did snicker this time.

The students went one at a time. First was a girl with a beetle, though it was certainly unlike the small beetles I had seen in the grass. This creature was as large as a small dog, its shell a strange mix of green and bronze that caught the light.

The girl knelt before it with her hands pressed flat to the earth and spoke to it in a soft voice I could not quite hear. The beetle clicked its mandibles twice. Then it began to move.

It was slow. It scraped over the first low obstacle with what seemed to be great effort. The girl walked beside it the entire way, her steps matched to its pace. When it reached the tunnel, she crouched and murmured something. The beetle paused, then lowered itself and crawled through. The whole run took perhaps four minutes. The beetle carried the ribbon back in its mandibles, and the girl cradled both with the same affection.

I approved. Here, at last, was someone who understood the proper treatment of a bonded creature. The girl’s form was correct as was her reverence. The beetle responded to reverence, and it performed. I would take notes from this one, perhaps.

Master Tarn nodded once. “Nice work, the both of you.”

The girl smiled at him, moved to the back of the waiting line. The next boy had a turtle-like creature.

The tortoise was small -only barely bigger than Sol herself. Its shell had small green shoots along the ridges, blooming faintly as the creature moved. There had been beasts like this before, in my realm. They had been far more imposing to look upon. The boy walked beside the tortoise at the tortoise’s pace, which was very slow indeed.