Boreal

Chapter Four

"-and, when Gadreele returned to the darkened world, his brother asked him where their sister had gone. Gadreele could not answer."

Ptarmigan sat with his head against the desk, scratching lines into the ancient wood with the tip of his penknife.

Siskin had awoken them long before sunrise, made them breakfast, and then walked him to the Citadel to make sure he attended class this time. He'd waited until the Paters had ushered him and the rest of the gathered children into the lecture hall, and only then had he left to deal with 'important Academy business'.

The lecture hall was lofty, the building's wooden frame on full display. Like most of the buildings in Kyba, it was built from polished white brick, though most was hidden behind woven tapestries, each depicting a different scene from story of the long season. A dozen or so long desks and benches had been arranged in a wide arc around a central podium and chalk board, upon which had been sketched a rough map of the Northern continent.

The room was full of children, ranging from ten to thirteen Emergences, all clad in the same silver racing suit. And all, save for Ptarmigan, had their focus fixed solely on the man stood before the chalk board, scratching notes down for them to copy.

Pater Rook was easily forty Emergences, though his bright, green eyes were those of a much younger man. His hair was cut close to his scalp, flowing into braided dreadlocks draped down the back of his neck. His clothes were made from loose, floaty black fabric, dancing around his arms as he continued to write. The only splashes of colour came from the silver pendant dangling around his neck – a triangle, identical to the one Siskin wore, the symbol for the Triumvirate – and a golden dragon hair cloak draped around his shoulders.

It had taken Ptarmigan a while to get used to Pater Rook. The man had a habit of talking too fast and not repeating himself, no matter how many times he was asked to. It was a shame, really, the man had dedicated himself to the Triumvirate in the way he had; Ptarmigan may have even liked him, had he been a racer. But, as it stood, Rook was a dusty old Pater, repeating lines from dusty old books, and Ptarmigan cared for none of it.

"The darkened world grew colder and colder. The plants died, and the seas froze, and man and mount were forced together, driven from the Wilds and the towns, collecting in five places across the continent. Can anyone tell me these locations?"

A sea of hands shot up, and Ptarmigan sank further down in his seat. He knew the answer, of course. Everyone knew. Afterall, there were only five important places in the Boreal. The five cities; Hayd, Ausi, Ferh, Aren, and finally, Kyba. He listed them off, one after the other, as the other children were called upon, skipping to the front to point them out on the map. Pater Rook let out a hearty laugh, tapping his chalk stick against the podium.

"Correct, correct, correct! Very good, everyone. I can see you've been paying attention to Pater Nester's classes. Now, dispersed, these first racers had very little contact with each other. It fell to those we'd come to know as the Mappers to bring news between these strongholds."

Ptarmigan puffed out his cheeks and dug the blade of his knife in even deeper. How many gongs would it be before he could leave this wretched place and go to the training fields? This class would go on for at least another gong, and then they had flight theory with Pater Kagus, and then-

The girl beside him raised her hand. Ptarmigan flinched as Pater Rook turned towards them, still smiling.

"Pater Rook, sir?"

"Yes, Dee, was it?"

"Aye, Pater."

"You have a question?"