The Warden's Awakening

Chapter XXXVI - Four Years Ago

His last day with the Seer had come. Lacen was slightly saddened at leaving his studies, but he knew that he could no longer afford the time. The Seer had been more than generous with him in his time, and it was only fair that he continue to pay him if he could. As with many who study, however, it is only a five year term. The Inquestors required one to study for at least that length of time.

The Seer finished writing the letter of education for Lacen and handed it to him gladly. Lacen smiled as he took it, and there was clapping from several other Seers in the tower. The writing of these letters was always a special occasion, as not very many people received them. Many positions in the Keldrisian Empire did not require any sort of study. Militia, for instance, could have been hired as soon as the person had turned eighteen. Even more people than were in the Militia decided to work the land, or craft under a tutor for a while to sell their goods. Lacen was proud to earn his letter, even if no one else was.

"Thank you, Seer," he said.

"No, Lacen. Thank you. You have reminded me that there is still enthusiasm for the past out there. If I never teach another student, then I will have been happy to know that I taught you. Just promise me one thing," the Seer declared. Lacen nodded in reply. "Promise me that you will never stop asking questions. Questions are the gateway to knowledge."

"Believe me, I wo- will not," he replied, switching his speech to formal. It was customary to speak to Seers and leaders of regions in the formal tongue.

"Before you leave the tower, come meet me in my study," the Seer asked. Lacen nodded and went to shake the other Seer's hands. After several moments of congratulating, Lacen found his Seer. The man shut the door, and took a seat at his desk. The room was very well lit for once, with an abundance of candles hanging on the walls.

"You wanted to see me?"

"I know you have been planning on going back to White Whirl, but is there any way I can persuade you to stay in Morvan? You've made something of a name for yourself here these passed few years. At least among the Seers," he explained. He had? Lacen knew nothing of that. He had only wanted to study and learn a bit about the history of the Empire.

"Unless someone can pay for me to stay here, I am out of available funds," he explicated.

"You could join the Seers."

What? That was unexpected. That would have allowed him to stay in Morvan for free, provided he learn at least a handful of the twelve to teach others. That or just teach the history of the Empire like he already knew. It was a tempting offer.

"I- I do not know if I would be an asset to the Seers."

"Of course you would, Lacen. You need some refining, sure, but every Seer does. And we can help you," he offered. Lacen thought for a long while about this. But ultimately, he knew his answer. He was just trying to please his Seer. He knew exactly what he wanted to do: join the Inquestors. That was his dream.

"As much as I appreciate the offer, I cannot join your order," he denied. The Seer leaned back in his chair.

"Because of the Inquestors?" He asked. Lacen nodded. The Seer sighed and scratched his chin. "Why would you want to join them?"

"It is what I have always wanted to do. They protect the people of the Empire. They investigate, pursue, and if needed, subdue the threats that may come," Lacen said, trying not to sound like a recruitment poster.

"What threats? The Skellund?" the Seer asked pointedly. At this, Lacen knew he had gotten in too deep. "How often have we seen the Inquestors in Morvan march on people for what they believe? What is next, marching on the Seer Towers themselves?" He stood up and paced about the room.

"As an Inquestor," Lacen began, "I can change that. Just because I want to join them does not mean I have to believe what they do. Wearing the uniform will not change what I believe. I know that."

"And when they ask you one day what you believe, how will you answer? Will you tell them the truth? Will you risk banishment from the Empire? From humanity itself?" The Seer was growing rather upset at this.

"Yes," Lacen replied. The Seer looked at him in disbelief.

"You have no more strength to take a brand than a Braut does."

What did he just say?

Lacen grew wroth with anger. He had lived five years in a place that made him feel inadequate. He was about to go back to White Whirl, another place to feel that same sense of inadequacy. He did not need to feel it in the one place he went to retreat from the world. He clenched his fists, and spit right in the face of the Seer. He would have punched him if he would not have been arrested.

"Get out," The Seer said, wiping his face.

"With pleasure," Lacen replied kicking the door open and taking a large chip out of the wood. The door slammed into the stone wall it was attached to, and the sound echoed through the tower. Not so much as his footsteps did, however. Each one was like a hammer on an anvil.

Lacen swung the door of the tower open, nearly hitting a couple walking in to begin their marriage preparations. He was still seething with rage. All this because the Seer could not take no for an answer. Was that how they recruited? Make everyone feel awful, and if they said no, kick them to the street? It was a terrible way to behave.

After walking through the main city square, Lacen had calmed down a bit. He walked passed Rayetta's shop, and peaked in to see if his former boss was working. The forge was hot, but no one was in; Rayetta must have gone to get more materials. He had hoped to say goodbye to him before he left for home. Him more so than anyone. A few of his acquaintances he had made while studying were having a gathering, but Lacen did not enjoy their company, nor their idea of a gathering enough to want to attend. You're better off forgetting about them he told himself. He had all but forgotten about Kellsa already.

She had spent the end of the year with Tarcos, never once paying for the house she still owned. Lacen had had to give up on the payments, as everything he earned went into the house, and he needed food. For the last few months, he had been living in the Tower, mostly for its beds. The company used to be all right. He was tempted to send a letter to Kellsa just to say good bye, and send one to the Seer also. But that was not about to happen now.

Lacen arrived at his old house and stood on the street looking at it. It looked far smaller than it felt when he lived in it. He found himself staring at the door: he'd opened and closed it so many times, his hand opened out of reflex. There was a splinter of wood that stuck out just about hand level with Lacen, so he always had to open the door from a strange angle. It was far easier and less expensive than replacing the door.

He found himself lost in the memories in the house. The very first time he had entered the house, he felt odd. Like he was naked in a room full of strangers. Of course he was alone: Emilis and Kellsa came in far later. But it was the very fact of being somewhere unfamiliar, yet all his that made him on edge. So many questions were running through his mind: how would he afford it? How long could he keep it up? What would he do to pay for it? He remembered sitting on the un-mattressed bed trying to contain his fears, when the voices of doubt in his own mind began. He remembered the air around him growing cold, and all the while, the sound of his own voice telling him he would fail.

Lacen snapped back into reality and looked around. How long had he been standing there? People were giving him strange looks as they passed him, as if he had grown a pair of horns. He must have looked like a fool standing in the middle of the sidewalk like that. After a brief sigh, Lacen placed his hand on the strap of his leather bag and walked to the carriage stall to begin his journey home.

"I'm never coming back here, again," Lacen said under his breath.

"Huh?" the carriage driver asked.

"Nothing. White Whirl, please," Lacen said, handing the driver several chips. The last of his money. The driver nodded and flicked the reins on his horen. The carriage began to move, and Lacen simply looked out the to the horizon.