"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.
“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.
The tortoise reached the first obstacle, and the boy offered a hand. It climbed on, and he set it down on the far side. They continued.
"No carrying," someone muttered behind me.
"That shouldn’t count!" another voice said.
They were rather petty grievances. I found myself agreeing with them anyway. If you could do that, then this would be rather simple indeed.
"That’s assistance within the bond," Tarn called. "The boy knows the difference. Eyes on your own familiars and wait your turns."
The tortoise reached the tunnel and refused to enter. The boy waited and after perhaps thirty seconds, the tortoise seemingly changed its mind on its own terms and entered the tunnel. Start to finish, the retrieval of the ribbon took ten minutes.
The boy walked back beside it. When they reached the starting mark, the tortoise stopped, and the boy set a hand briefly on its shell. The green shoots pulsed faintly.
"Well done, Pell. And well done, Bertt." I believed Pell was the name of the boy, while Bertt was the name of the turtle.
The other students cycled through after that. A boy with a mole-like creature whose familiar tunnelled directly beneath the course and emerged near the ribbon, which Tarn praised. A nervous girl whose small ape mimicked her trembling hands until both steadied, and the course was completed with surprising grace. A boy with some manner of crystalline cat. A girl with a floating thing I did not understand. A few others whose familiars I did not bother to examine.
Then my turn came. “Good luck,” Ash said. I did not need luck. I did not say it, but I made sure my expression did.
I stepped forward, lifted Sol from my brow, and set her down. Sol did not move. She remained where I had set her. “Come on, this task is well beneath you. You should do it anyway.”
Sol looked at me, then at the course, then at me again. She did not move. She let out a small chirp. Even the chirp sounded bored.
"Acquire the ribbon," I said, and pointed. Perhaps she could simply not see the prize from where I had set her. Sol groomed a wing. "Sol."
She chirped. It was a dismissive sound. She continued grooming. Someone snickered. It came from somewhere behind me. I did not turn.
I tried again, cupping her and raising her so she might focus on the ribbon. “That is your target. Look at it.”
Sol did not look at it. She yawned as she met my gaze. The faint glow of flame at the back of her throat made the girl nearest me take half a step back, but Sol did not move otherwise. She settled more firmly on my cupped hands, tucking all four wings against her sides.
"Having some trouble?" the Inker asked. He had stepped in next to me.
"This prize of yours is meaningless. It is no prize at all," I said. "It is beneath her to-"
Tarn reached into a small pouch at his belt, and produced a strip of something that might have been meat, if it wasn’t so pale. He held it up to her. Was the fool really trying to feed her something that wasn’t bathed in the Cr-
Sol looked at the meat, then at the man. She hopped down from my cupped hands, hissed once, and ate the offering in three clean bites. Then she stayed there. In his hands. I stood in the middle of the yard with my hands still raised, holding nothing.
"She's a friendly one," Tarn said. He was not smiling, though something in his eyes might have been. "Would you like her back?"
Tarn held his arm out. Sol returned to me at his prompting, not mine. She settled on my forearm and regarded me with golden eyes that held, I was certain, no awareness whatsoever of what had just been done to my dignity.
"She's not a soldier, lass," Tarn said quietly, so that only I would hear. "She's a friend. You ask a friend. You don't point them."
"She is my familiar."
"Aye. And familiars are friends. They choose to help. They're not yours to swing at things. You have to ask."
I had not swung her at anything. I had not demanded. I had asked…hadn’t I? I stared at the bird, who was looking at me with no understanding at all. Perhaps I was wrong. I did not know how to ask Sol for anything. I had only ever known how to demand.
The mockery came while I stood there.
"Maybe she bonded to the wrong one," a voice said, deliberately loud enough to carry. "Came as an egg, right? Sometimes they hatch wrong." Sol did not even turn her head. She was busy examining a speck on her wing.
I turned. It was that pale boy who had spoken, the one who had eyed me when I had first come in. He looked around, as if to see if someone else would say anything. Nobody did. Then, loudly, he said, “Lena did say the beast was supposed to be special. Now I think I know what she meant!”
So, this boy was one of that girl’s sycophants then. She did seem to have many of them. I saw Ash’s face flush. She reached for a hilt that was not there. My right hand closed at my side. The Requiem stirred beneath the skin and for one bright moment I let myself picture the shape of what I could do to the boy who had spoken. I knew exactly the distance. I knew exactly how much of him would remain, which was nothing.
Sol chirped. It was a small sound, unrelated to the mockery. She had not even heard it, or she had heard it and judged it beneath her. The chirp was simply a chirp. A comment on her wing, perhaps.
The Requiem settled. I unclenched my hand. Ash met my gaze. I nodded, and she settled. The Inker stood at the side, watching this all. He had not said a thing, though surely he must have heard. Nobody else had.
I did not think it was this boy’s power that silenced words. It was his master, this ‘Lena’. She had not seemed so impressive when I had seen her with my own eyes.
Sol did not care. Therefore, I did not care.
I leaned down next to her, ignoring the phantom pain from my legs. I had not tried this before, not properly. There was a bond between us. A tenuous thing so faint I might have dismissed it if I hadn’t been looking for it. I had thought of it as a tether between Sol and me, as all bonds had been, almost a thousand years ago. What if they weren’t? What if I was simply wrong? No…I had felt something from Sol before, hadn’t I? I was wrong.
I reached, and the bond was there. I reached, and found it deeper and richer than I had expected. WIth it came feelings. They all came through the bond at once, and they nearly knocked me over. A current running both ways.
The first thing I felt was boredom. It was Sol’s boredom. I felt it directed at the course, and this morning’s proceedings in general. She had seen the other familiars run their routes, and had concluded this entire exercise was wholly beneath her.
The second thing was disdain. The beetle was slow. The tortoise was small. The crystalline cat was, in Sol's assessment, a fraud. None of them could fly. None of them were worth her attention.
It was the third thing that stopped me. Sol looked at me and what I felt was warm. It was so warm. It was the warmth I had first felt through the shell of an egg. It was the warmth of a small body pressed against my collarbone in the dark. It was Sol, recognising me, and finding me good.
I am a fool. I’m the Eleventh. She was not my subject and had never been. She was a small creature who…loved me. I did not move.
In my old world, bonds had run one way. Chains, of a kind. The familiar felt what the master felt, while the master felt nothing. That was how it had been with Echidna -not by my wanting, but it had been so. This was not that. It had simply never occurred to me that it could be otherwise.
I opened my eyes. Inker Tarn was watching me. "Now ask her right this time," he said quietly.
I looked at Ash. Her eyes were very warm. She gave me a small nod. I looked at Sol on my forearm. She tilted her head to the right in one jerky motion. I reached through the bond. Would you try the course? Do you want to?
I was not entirely sure how this was supposed to work. So, I simply offered the image of the course, and the ribbon. Sol considered it. Through the bond, I felt her weigh the matter. The course was still beneath her. The ribbon was still a ribbon. But I was asking.
She chirped once. Then she hopped from my arm to the ground and faced the first obstacle with the bearing of a queen addressing a battlefield. She spread all four wings. She gathered herself. She launched.
The first obstacle was perhaps a foot and a half high. Sol made it approximately half that, before she started flapping her wings. Then, she fell. She struck the low wooden beam face-first, bounced once, and landed in a small heap of indignant feathers on the far side of the start line.
The pale boy laughed, and it was loud. No, it wasn’t just him this time. I heard at least two voices now. Sol was already rising. She was already turning toward the obstacle again.
I took one step forward before I heard footsteps behind me. Ash walked to where Sol had landed, and gently gathered her up in both palms. She turned and offered her to me. I took Sol from her.
"Thank you," I said.
“You can do this,” Ash whispered, half to me, and half to Sol. Sol let out a small chirp. “You still want me to just ignore him?” This question was addressed to me alone.
I wondered what she would do if I said no. “Yes,” I said instead. “They are beneath Sol’s notice.” I searched the bond, and knew it to be true. If it had been anything else….
I paused, looked down at my hands. Sol was trembling. I searched the bond again. She was trembling with…frustration. She let out an indignant chirp as she eyed the course again. Ash stepped back. I knelt and brushed dirt from her feathers with my thumb. I lowered my voice to something only she would hear.
"Do you wish to continue?" Sol chirped. Through the bond, the answer was clear.
I nodded. I set her down at the starting line. She planted her feet. She set her wings. "Very well," I said, more to myself than to her. "It seems we will be here for some time."
Sol’s four wings beat in rhythm, and then she launched herself upwards.