Gamic Throes

Prologue

Introductions

I, Lord Arkcken, first in the line of Arkcken, was given unto me a task by the Emperor Fourth, may his soul rest in peace, at a time of struggle and power-mongering amongst the Houses made noble by the Fourth's quest for a stable Empire, may his soul rest in peace, and in that I was sent out before my lordship was made known, and before discord and resentment could overtake me, to go out and study, to create maps and charts so that roads could be made, and the Empire travelled safely once more, and to find the truth in the legends of our past, as far back in time as can be reached through science and gamic in this current era. I have found that talk is worth just as much as epsak, if not more, and through it I have stepped past the boundaries of our time to discover exactly how our Empire was forged. There are details lacking in many areas, and many influential figures are shrouded in mystery thanks to thousands of years of mythos that has built up around that figure.

- - Lord Arkcken, 'On the Forging of the Empire', 5th Edition.

“If you believe the legends, and wish to be a warrior like Eht Epsaker, then you are in the wrong school. Rather, I believe the Home of Insanity may have a bed more to your liking than the bunk you have here. Urte Epsak may perhaps have existed once, and with it you could command water ‘freeze’ and it would, but those days of legend have been gone at least four thousand years. We now live in a new world, a fiery world; a world where gamic will freeze your soul, evaporate your body and rip your mind to shreds if you lose focus simply for a moment. I am here to teach you so that you don’t do that, but nothing more.” Master Nehry spoke sternly, and the class swallowed nervously, except for one child, he was more than a child really, they all were, the youngest among them was fourteen years of age, and the oldest was seventy five. The term ‘child’ was a title, to establish that they were students, equal to each other but far below their teachers. The child, who did not feel nervous, was unique. He was unlike the others, he was not sent to study here, he did not choose to study here, and he was brought here against his will, because his emotions already tugged on the forces of gamic, manipulating nature to him.

Child Thorn was his name, and he felt a great deal of respect for Master Nehry, the man was one of a very few that still held a name from Epsakish, a broken and ancient language, the likely descendant language of Urte Epsaker. Child Thorn though, was bored, and that meant his mind was wandering, paying little attention to what his master was teaching, and he felt a slow but certain anger returning to the surface. He was bored, and Nehry was treating them beneath even their station. Thorn had been part of Nehry’s classes for six years, and heard this speech more than a few times, and was tired of it.

The teacher suddenly paused speaking, and his mouth twitched into a smile, “Child Thorn? You have something to say?”

Thorn stood up and looked at him calmly, “What exactly is your point? You’ve told this story many times. We know we have lost the language and ability to command so straight forwardly, so why repeat it?”

Master Nehry grinned and nodded, “That was what I was waiting for. In the old days, we called you ihcld. You have earned the right to carry that title rather than an English one as it’s dimly lit replacement.”

Thorn nodded his head, barely perceptibly, still angry, and Master Nehry sighed softly, “We do have a few phrases from the original Urte Epsaker, but they do not command gamic. They are idioms. So now, Ihcld Thorn, you have earned this statement of you: Eh si a Hezai.”

He is a Hezai.

The irony of that was not lost on Thorn, now was the honour, he took his seat with a bow, and felt himself glowing. Master Nehry had called him wise. That meant that soon enough, he would be placed in new classes… Only in addition to his current ones of course.