The Currents of Magic

Chapter Five

Slowly, the days passed. Outwardly Meyer acted normal, socializing in the evenings in the village square, and roaming around with Ian and Dobson when they were not in Martial Training. He talked about the new paths he had cleared in the small woods behind his house, and smiled at his friends' consoling comments. "Rip has gotten even worse," said Ian. "You're so lucky you don't have to deal with him anymore."

"And the conditioning runs," said Mason. "What I would give to sleep in every morning like you." Dobson was the only one who provided any real comfort. "Don't worry, Meyer, I'll be joining you soon," he said. "The recruits in the Second Rank make me look like I've never picked up a sword."

After a couple weeks, however, Meyer's friends returned to their normal form around him. They stopped with their sympathetic remarks and awkward compassion, and continued how they always had: complaining when Rip assigned a double wilderness session, laughing when Dobson dropped his weekly allowance into the barracks well, and daring each other to approach girls in the village square.

Meyer was glad to be free from his friends' less than tactful attempts to make him feel better, but while his dismissal had faded from their minds, it remained at the forefront of his own. Often he would sit in his bed, staring out his window for hours. Other times he would whittle away at sticks, fletching make shift arrow, only to snap them in a fit of emotion. He hadn't told his father about his dismissal, and was careful to rise every morning before dawn to maintain the impression that he was still in Martial Training.

Worse, even when Meyer managed to push his own dismissal from his mind, a nagging uncertainty remained. Ammon's peculiar dismissal, once receded into the depth of his memory, had reemerged. It had been a humid morning and Dobson had rushed up to him as he arrived at Martial Training. "Ammon killed someone!" Dobson had gasped. "Yesterday. During sparring. He killed someone!" Meyer remembered Dobson's face: wide eyes, pudgy cheeks. He also remembered Lorant's drum announcement that Ammon had been dismissed from Martial Training. And of course, he remembered later hearing, once the rumors died down, that Ammon hadn't killed anyone, only that he delivered such a powerful blow that his opponent went flying backwards into the barracks wall...

But when in the village square Meyer asked the older recruits about Ammon, they provided no answers. They argued over Ammon's last name, and gave different interpretations of the fateful blow he delivered, but none had recently seen or heard of him.

Meyer was walking up the pathway to his house on the first day of April, when he noticed a small note sitting on the doorstep. It was held in place by a pebble, and its edges fluttered in the wind. He picked up the note, his eyes scanning the text:

Meyer Brant:

Please return your lifelink to the sanctuary by the first week of April.

-Shaman Allarah

The note was stamped with the official Vanroc seal, a shield wrapped by a grape vine. Meyer folded the paper up, nodding slowly. He didn't need the lifelink anymore—might as well return it at once rather than draw out another reminder that he was no longer in Martial Training. Without bothering to go inside, he turned around and started towards Quarry Road.

Meyer reached the western side of Vanroc forty minutes later. It was late afternoon, and a smattering of young girls streamed by him as he approached the sanctuary. He turned down a sidestreet, and the road began to empty. Two quick turns later, the sanctuary appeared before him. Like the barracks, it stood out, much larger than its surrounding building, though unlike its counterpart, the sanctuary's outer walls were clean and smooth. The building itself was perfectly circular, with an octagonal roof serving as a capstone to its geometric architecture. Meyer approached the arched entryway, and stepped through the open doors. The room he entered into was large and square, with smooth tile floor. A stone table stood at its center, but otherwise there was no furniture. Each wall had an arched opening at its center, and the ceiling was checkered with wide light shafts.