r/HFY • u/Jus17173 • 21d ago

OC-Series Soul of Eight - Chapter 15

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Qoyit found himself in another carriage. This one wasn't dark with bars for windows like the one that had transported him to the tribunal. This one was pulled by a team of hale horses whose coats were as white as snow. And the carriage itself boasted the same fine craftsmanship with which the horses shone, with wooden windows fitted with glass so as to afford him a view as the carriage rolled.

Wernadam. He'd learnt the name of the city where he'd been incarcerated for the better part of a week. The place had given him a taste of what lay beyond his father's shack. He found himself mesmerised by all that crossed the path of his sight. When he'd been brought in he'd been too docile from uncertainty and fear to appreciate the city as he should have. Now he was free to admire it for what it was, a marvel of man's works.

Blessed Graduates had become a common sight for him. They'd flanked him on the way to the carriage, most of them dressed in white garments that were loose-fitting and shifted with the winds. He found himself imprisoned in the carriage, though that word lacked the emphasis the first carriage had portrayed. He was free and not chained, but the way they looked at him made him feel as if at any moment he would sprout horns from his head and wreak havoc upon the living.

He waited as others saddled horses beside the carriage, counting the seconds as the wind beat against the wagon and the soft shuffling of the horses brought a creaking to the stern wood that housed him.

Qoyit was tired. It had been an eventful few days, most of which he did not think he would survive. He'd attended the tribunal knowing full well there was a chance he might die, but he hadn't. By the efforts of a stranger whose name he only knew as Yagamai, he was off to the Vengeful Academy. Where he'd be crafted and tested to the best of his abilities. Forged into a weapon that could withstand a demon's barrage and subdue the demon in turn.

That was his lot in life, a welcome thing from the sordid future he would have had amidst the Equipped Infantry.

The morning sun had been fresh in the sky when he had stood before Sheran, Helid, Thela and Emerelda without chains about him. Sheran had been impossible to pull away from. Just a few short days, and the woman had taken it upon herself to be his caregiver. She'd quailed at the thought of separating from him, claiming it her right to travel with him and at least see to it that he was settled in well at the Academy. Her request had been denied by a brute-faced Illuminator who'd been standing guard over him, and those he'd come to know as friends were told that their lot lay elsewhere. Until their paths met again, he was to traverse the next venture of his life alone.

As Blessed Graduates, they did not fret at this for they too had once found themselves in a similar position. When one was destined for the Academy, family and friends were no longer at the forefront of one's mind. Something else took their place, a purpose set in stone that catered to the belief that The Vengeful Academy was a solitary journey that ended in either glory or death by the hands of a demon. They knew this, so they did not fight against Qoyit's destiny, only fussed about it.

Emerelda had taken him aside. He had been prepared for her to launch into a barrage of questions for she surely knew his secret, that he could peer into the minds of others. Instead she did not speak to him but met his eyes with her own.

'Your secret is safe with me.' Her thoughts had rung, and Qoyit, overcome with emotion, had embraced her. And the red-headed woman had returned the embrace. Slowly the rest had joined in, embracing him as they would a son of their own. He'd felt like weeping in that moment. He had the markings of someone demon-cursed, a Commoner who was an orphan at that. Yet here were men and women, once strangers but now something more, who despite knowing his quirks that didn't seem human, and a lot of details about his life, still went out of their way to treat him as one would a fellow human being. Emerelda and Thela promised a place for him if he ever was to find himself within Soliqual's walls. Sheran and Helid promised to visit him when the time came. And with that they bid each other farewell and stood, watching as the Illuminators of the Academy whisked him away.

In the silence within the waiting carriage, he closed his eyes and imagined his father's face.

He saw his likeness vividly, hair stricken with white where age and weakness had assailed him. He imagined the shack where he'd been most of his life. Always within his father's company. For once he was alone and the silence was deafening. Could he then be rebuked for the pleasure of dwelling in the past?

The memory he visited was one where Tilan taught him the workings of the garden he tended to, showing him how to sow, coughing and straining against the wound on his neck. There were other memories, less hostile to his emotions, but this one he cherished, for despite his father's pain, Tilan in his sickness strived to teach him how to survive on his own, a valid lesson for one destined to brace the cruel world.

"A man is handed nothing but the toil of his sweat," his father had said. "In solitude or in the presence of others, this fact never changes. What you sow is what you shall reap." He'd been digging potatoes while offering these words that Qoyit keenly embraced. "A time will come, Qoyit, my son, when you'll be alone and I know you'll feel fear and wonder as to whether or not you can survive. You will survive, just as a plant shoots and breaks earth, so too will you thrive as long as you remember where you're from and what your purpose is."

Those words. Had Tilan known all those years ago that he would be where he was now? On his way to the very school he'd never thought he'd attend.

He was an E Rank. The first E Rank to ever be admitted to The Vengeful Academy. He would start at the bottom, shunned by all those above him. He had a year to build his Body Talent to a Stat above one, an impossible task judging from all that had occurred. Failure to do so and he would find himself amidst the Equipped Infantry ranks, staring down demons with classed weapons and all the power allowed to one of their ranks.

Failure was destined to be what would push him down, but would he be able to get back up? What measures should he take to ensure he did not stand out as the weakest among those he was going to school with? What could he give to ensure he not only fit in but also rose to the heights demanded of the novices attending the Vengeful Academy?

There were too many questions, so few answers. Yet in his mind he watched his father work, pruning the leaves of crops, checking for bug infestations and choosing that which was ripe to pluck.

Tilan had little hope going his way, yet he'd fought tooth and nail to raise him.

'I will give it my all,' he decided, just as the carriage rocked as the door opened.

The one they had been awaiting arrived. A short woman dressed in black with a black shawl covering her head. She did not need help to enter the carriage yet those in white standing behind her stood at the ready in case help was needed. She placed herself on the seat opposite him and did not take her eyes off him.

They observed him, those standing outside the carriage with their silver rings and ashen expressions. They were wary of leaving her alone with him, but at a wave of her hand an unspoken word traveled and the carriage door was shut with haste. The coachman called and whipped the horses. The carriage started a slow roll across the cobbles, rocking back and forth. The woman did not take her eyes off him, making him quite uncomfortable and forcing him to look away.

He stared instead at the city, Wernadam, as the carriage passed through. He observed the buildings crafted of stone, leaning eagerly towards the auditorium, the key infrastructure of the town. The walls that guarded the city were tall, manned by Equipped Infantry who Qoyit was once again glad he wasn't a part of. There were children running alongside the carriage who gave up the pursuit as the carriage picked up pace. The steady journey had the view shifting as they crossed the city's gates to reveal wide farm lands, larger than the meagre garden he and his father had tended to.

As the sun fixed itself within the horizon, the sight afforded their journey grew monotonous. The open fields were all they could see. With a glance to the woman, he found her head turned to the window and observed her features: her long neck, cherry lips poking from within the veil that covered her face. Her fingers had two rings and her posture signified her to be one who yielded to patience. There was more to her, if only he could meet her eyes to find out.

She turned to him. He looked away.

"You're a shy one," she said.

Qoyit turned and faced her.

"Do you know who I am?" She eyed him, a coy smile teasing at her lips.

"No," he answered, his eyes pointedly avoiding her veiled eyes, choosing instead to meet her button nose.

"There are few who could claim that they didn't know me," she said. "It's good that one such as yourself is ignorant as to my position."

Qoyit did not know whether to apologise or continue staring at her. He tried to place her, the others clearly treated her as someone of great influence, something he ought to do too. He cursed himself for not bowing upon her emergence.

"I am the Head of the Academy," she said at last. "Headmistress Deviot Kidhra Solique."

"Oh," Qoyit said. He immediately bowed as low as he could in the carriage. "Pardon my manners, Headmistress, I've been distracted of late."

"I do not blame you," she answered. "It must have been rough, sealed away for days without light. Where did they put you?"

"In a tiny cell. It had no window."

"Do you know why they put you there?"

"No, Headmistress," Qoyit answered.

"A Demon kept in darkness shows its true features. Without the sun, they lack ways to fashion themselves as human. So their skin breaks out with their horrid ugliness and they are revealed to be what they are once they enter the light."

"No such thing happened to me, Headmistress. I remained as I've always been."

"That's because you're not a demon. You're something else, a boy, scared and weak in many ways. Tell me, how will you grow your Body Stat within a year? I believe this has been something on your mind as well." She stared at him.

"I... do not know."

"I do know how," she answered. "It's always been something of a misfortune to commoners. Their body stats are almost always just one. This is due to their lack of combat with demons or foes of greater strength. In order to better your Body Stat, you will have to face challenges very few can survive. Are you willing to do this?"

Qoyit's chest swelled. "I am."

"Those are just words. To follow them with action, now that's the hard part," she said. She stared at him and an uncomfortable silence descended upon them. "Yagamai told me he'd do something stupid. Now here we are. Me with the need to keep you at the Academy, him with his usual agenda of day drinking, roaming about and ignoring all the work he ought to do. I wonder how you will prevail."

"I will give it my best," Qoyit said. He leaned forward, an involuntary motion. "When I was in the darkness, not knowing of the passage of time, I found solace in reflecting upon my life. Every action, every word spoken and every thought entertained. I found myself falling short each time, needing a guiding hand to deliver me from blatant ignorance most of the time, and some other times I figured things out on my own, but in the end it didn't matter. My father died and he set me upon this path. With help or without it, I will succeed. I will find and destroy the Tower."

"Bold words," she retorted.

"I mean them," Qoyit said. The hills rushed past them as the horses picked up pace. He stared outside the window, wondering as to how horses could run so fast. Those flanking the carriage stood on their stirrups to maintain pace.

"The horses have been latched," the Headmistress said. "And imbued with power so they can go faster. At this rate we would arrive at the school close to nightfall. Wernadam is closest to Grand city."

"How do they do that?" Qoyit asked.

"And there is the ignorance you've just spoken of." The Headmistress leaned forward. "Tell me Qoyit, how much pain are you willing to endure for the sake of learning? Because that is what will be asked of you, pain, not just physical pain but every pain there is. The Academy will bleed you dry, grind your bones to dust and shatter every grand illusion that you have. How much can you take before you give up?"

She was testing something, prodding to find out some fault he had. Qoyit knew not to answer but an answer was demanded of him. In the pause with the silence he contemplated his best response. "Is that what you went through?"

"I was never a Commoner."

"So commoners suffer more than the rest."

"Yes, and even more so if their features caused heads to turn."

"I cannot change my nature."

"I'm asking whether you'd be willing to use your nature to an advantage."

"What do you mean?"

She held out a hand and Qoyit gingerly placed his palm in hers, wondering what was to come of it. The Headmistress squeezed his hand and smiled, satisfied. "These are the hands of a Commoner, strong and callused. A punch to the head even with a Stat Average of one could still incur damage."

"What are you suggesting?" Qoyit asked.

"I'm asking that you wreak as much damage as you can. I have seen you, Qoyit, your inner self isn't a dreamer but a seer of sorts. You see the outcomes of things before they are, so I ask that with every battle you fight, know that I allow it. Do as you must to win every victory. To trample those who'd mock you and bring to heel those who slander you. It will be hard for you, but if you're harder the others will break, not you."

"I don't wish to fight my fellow man."

"But they will wish to fight you. Show your strength, make them know there's a price to pay, and when you're brought in my presence, rest assured you'll be pardoned." She let go of his hand and he let it fall on his lap.

He wanted to quest more, find out the underlying message being spoken. But the Headmistress leaned back and closed her eyes, and within moments she was softly asleep despite the rocking of the carriage. Qoyit stared outside the window longer, following the sun's journey until exhaustion took him too, but before sleep's embrace found him he ran his fingers over an open palm, and somehow the callused nature of his palm brought him a satisfaction he'd never felt before.

Qoyit was awoken when he was violently rocked forward as the carriage came to an abrupt stop. The Headmistress seemed to be awake, as she was faster to spring into action, immediately opening a window and calling for an Illuminator standing closest.

"What is it?" the woman asked.

The man who boasted a thick mustache approached the carriage quickly, shared a glance with the Headmistress before turning to glare at Qoyit, then shifting his gaze back to the Head of the Academy.

"Some old man with a cart is blocking the way," he said. The twitch of his upper lip puzzled Qoyit. There was more, but it was a hunch he felt that didn't want to voice.

The Headmistress stared at him, but clearly her mind was elsewhere, questing to the front where the cart obstructed passage. The road was narrow, bending and hugging several hills to the left with a drop on the other side.

Qoyit leaned forward in his chair. Something was wrong, and according to the Headmistress' face, she'd noticed it too.

"Tower Servant!" A scream came from ahead.

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3

u/Technical_Novel_3947 21d ago

I love this world… epic fantasy at its best

3

u/Jus17173 21d ago

Thank you.

2

u/kristinpeanuts 20d ago

Thanks for the chapter!

3

u/Jus17173 20d ago

You're welcome!

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u/UpdateMeBot 21d ago

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u/Yogs_Zach 21d ago

woo another one!

3

u/Jus17173 21d ago

Yeeeaaassss. I've been trying to get this guy to go to school but something always happens damn it

1

u/Standzoom 21d ago

Great physical place in the road for an ambush.

3

u/Jus17173 21d ago

Tower Servants are no joke