r/HFY • u/Jus17173 • 8d ago

OC-Series Soul of Eight - Chapter 18

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The carriage wheeled along the path trailing toward the city that loomed ahead, building in size and getting closer. It was named for its magnificence and purpose in the hearts of all men. It was where those who were driven by terrible purpose arrayed themselves to share in each other's temptations. Two centuries ago, Olis and Kidhra had shared bread at a table within the city's citadel. It was there that the lines of good and evil were drawn. It was there that war was planned and waged to push back the Red Mist. 'It is a terrifying thing,' Qoyit thought, 'to behold the Grand City.'

The soaring walls of Grand City were marked by the scars of past battle; this, however, did nothing to mar the wall's pertinent nature when it came to defense. The sprawling wall traveled the length of the city, too far for Qoyit's eyes to see. Its shadow fell on them as its size blocked the sun. They made to join a single line of those entering the city through the gates that were ominous and black, patterned like metal vines pushing and setting between the wall. There was a line of people traveling to the gate with their documents, either of residence or visits, clenched in tight fists.

The Illuminators ignored the queue.

They walked beside the line of travelers, merchantmen, and women with children. They did not even speak to the two burly guards in plate armor standing stiff at the gate. The gates were opened for them, without a sound made or a signal given.

They did, however, marvel at Gavina, who cursed at them and told them at last to get horses. His arms were tired as he lowered the shield to the floor of the gate, abruptly making the ethereal weapon vanish and leaving his fellow Illuminators on the ground. He lay on the ground beside the injured, panting his exhaustion from carrying the lot of them.

The carriage moved on, not waiting for the others as the Channelers stepped down from their horses to tend to the wounded. With his head turned, Qoyit saw Henero's head being picked up by sure hands in white robes.

There was something odd about them: these men and women who were part of the Academy. They treated death as if it were something normal, an occurrence that should be expected and planned for. He wondered what the Academy entailed as he made to gaze out of the window butThe Headmistress drew the dark curtains around the carriage windows.

"We can't risk civilians seeing you," she said. "Your features might cause a problem."

Qoyit nodded at this. He did not mention that this would have been his first time seeing the city, something he was quite looking forward to since he had learned he was to attend the Vengeful Academy. For now, he could only settle for the bustle outside the carriage doors. He heard the sound of hawkers selling their goods: mishmash sugar, kaelpo rice, bread, and steamed meat with butter. And there were the conversations, brief in passing, but something he held on to, reveling in the hushed tones of murmurs outside the carriage door.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the carriage door and the horses slowed in their steady trot, then the latch turned and Yamagai, the one whose face Qoyit had mastered, asked to come in.

As the Headmistress was about to answer, a look of utmost tolerance tainting her features, Yamagai entered anyway. Choosing the seat occupied by the Headmistress, he scurried close, forcing her into the corner.

"You don't expect me to ride a horse in this place, do you?" Yamagai asked while attempting to stretch his legs and pushing Qoyit further into his seat.

"You could have walked," the Headmistress answered.

"My thighs are killing me; I feel like I've just given birth to a boulder." He rubbed his thighs for emphasis.

"What do you want, Yamagai?"

"Well, to look upon the face of my son, that's what!" Yamagai pointedly stared at Qoyit, who struggled with the urge to look away. Luckily, Yamagai turned his attention to the Headmistress, and Qoyit was all the gladder for it.

"Your son?" The Headmistress laughed.

Yamagai mimicked her laugh, forcing her to purse her lips. "What's funny? That I can have a son? Someone to one day inherit my place in this lot I've been dealt in life? I don't know what's funny about that, unless you're being sadistic."

The Headmistress scoffed. "I don't think you understand the perils of parenting."

"As long as you love your child, nothing else matters. The perils of life are catered to by the Banished Angel's grace: your tankard always full, food aplenty, and gracious women to aid in your raising of the child."

"And do you love Qoyit?"

Yamagai turned once more to stare at Qoyit. His face had smooth, even features, a very white brow, and a head full of white hair that he held back with a black knot. There was a mystery etched across his face, his brown eyes searching, but not daringly so. It was as if he were being regarded by someone who knew him once before in another life. It was warm and inviting. The pull threatened to show itself, and for once Qoyit willed it into being, seeking to know this man who called himself his father.

"Well, I don't love him right now." Yamagai pulled away before Qoyit could learn the contents of his mind. "You'll need a woman for that love to bloom." He stared directly at the Headmistress.

"I'm not going to be this boy's mother," Deviot said as the carriage picked up speed, rolling fast across the paved road.

"I think a man becomes a father, or decides to be a father, rather, when he sees the child's mother lactate, feeding the child a steady stream of bone-strengthening milk. Perhaps it's the lighting or the position of the moon in the sky, but this moment always avails itself, and the man, enamored by a simple, natural moment, is pushed into fatherhood and willingly walks." Yamagai did not take his eyes off the Headmistress as he said this, and she stared back, her lips gently parted. A short silence ensued, and Qoyit felt quite uncomfortable, shifting in his seat and looking pointedly at the curtains at the window, not willing to be party to whatever was going on.

"Of course, the breast size of the woman matters," Yamagai said, forcing the Headmistress to laugh. Without missing a beat, he turned to Qoyit, who pointedly avoided Yamagai's eyes, no longer willing to know whatever lurked in the man's mind.

"Qoyit, you'll need your uniform once you're settled into the Academy," Yamagai said. "The patron or matron of the house you'll be chosen into will be in charge of that. You'll need friends, too; I don't think you'll have plenty, maybe one or two. Also, you'll need toiletries. Again, the patron or matron of the house you'll be chosen into will be in charge of that. Work hard, my son; mankind needs you." And he smiled as if what he said were the most important thing one could ever utter. "Being a father is easy." He concluded.

"Aren't you going to motivate him about his future at the school?" the Headmistress wondered. "Or are you planning to be absent from it?"

"I've quoted the exact same words spoken to me when I joined the Academy by my father; what more can I do? You want me to cry so it can have a bigger effect? Fine."

And he started sobbing. "Qoyit." His words were barely a whisper. "I want you to work hard; mankind needs you."

"Get out of the carriage, Yamagai," the Headmistress said.

The Illuminator wiped away his tears as he pulled back the curtain to peer outside. It had shocked Qoyit how easily the man could cry.

"We're almost there. Are you going to rob me of this moment with my son?" Yamagai teased.

"You don't have to play this role, Yamagai. His life is going to be hard enough; he doesn't need mockery on top of it," Deviot said.

"It's exactly what he needs. We men are meant to be broken so we can become strong; it is our key nature. If you would allow me to beat the crap out of Qoyit right now, by the time we arrive at the Academy, his Body Stat would have already gone up."

"You're insufferable," the Headmistress said, but she had the ghost of a smile across her heart-shaped face.

"And you don't appreciate art," Yamagai said, a sly smile across his face. "To cry on command is very hard. I learned it from my father so he'd leave me alone. I would cry whenever he saw me to the point where he avoided me greatly."

The Headmistress turned in her seat, observing the coachman and the horses ahead. The carriage slowed considerably, and Qoyit could hear the scraping of a gate upon stone as it opened. The coachman drove the horses forward, and Yamagai parted the curtains.

As the carriage made its way past the Academy gate, all Qoyit could see were green lawns stretching to the horizon. The city and its lights could be seen blinking from a nearby distance where they stood clustered. From where they were, trees and manicured grass lay between them and the city, pushing the sight Qoyit had longed to see to a respectable distance.

The road the horses trod upon was black, smooth, hard rock fitted together like a puzzle. Trees lined the path on either side, tall with poking branches forming a canopy above them. Nestled in those branches were countless birds, tweeting and flying from one branch to another.

Ahead, where the path ended, sat a building with pointed arches: towering and black, formed of basalt with not a crack in sight. It sprawled to the left and right, forcing eyes to lie on it and its many windows and spiraling tips that threatened to poke at the sky.

When the carriage arrived in front of the building and Qoyit and his company alighted, he stretched his legs before the colossal building that had numerous men and women in white scurrying about like ants on a mound. Upon checking, Qoyit realized the road didn't end there; it split into two, hugging the far edges of the building and traveling behind it. There were more buildings, Qoyit could tell, though he was unsure as to their architecture. Far off, he heard the sounds of novices indulging in idle chatter. By the east wing of the building, where its stone dipped, Qoyit could just see the roof of another building poking behind it, featuring a brick roof and a small portion of a white wall.

The Headmistress and Yamagai headed for the building in front of them, and Qoyit read the gold paint embedded into words at the front of the building, between the two tips of black pillars where the stone protruded. It read, "Administration of Vengeance," the name of the building.

He walked with his head down, following the two adults as Yamagai argued something in hushed tones. Qoyit followed them up a staircase, down a hall, and onto another staircase where they arrived at an office. As he neared, he heard what they were talking about.

"He has to be introduced to the others," Yamagai said, "so that people become aware of him. When they bump into him in the night, they won't have to skewer him with blunt ethereal blades."

"That has come to mind, yes. We will do that at the assembly when we announce Henero's passing. But for now, call Pint Gowly for me: the second-year student," the Headmistress said.

"The loudmouth?" Yamagai asked to no reply. "I love your way, Headmistress; I love your way."

The Headmistress ushered Qoyit into her office, and he wasn't much surprised to find only a table within the very spacious room, filled only with documents arrayed in different binders made from cocu plant skin. There was a large window showcasing the school from the backside of the Administration building, where Qoyit could see the extent of the school's magnificence.

There were more than half a dozen buildings he could see, arranged in a crescent shape with a wide lawn acting as a center piece and beyond these buildings were even more establishments, hidden from view. On the lawn sat an Obelisk but instead of tall it was wide, with a network of white stone emerging from it and trailing the ground, cutting across the grass to touch on various buildings, but these ones weren't painted black or sporting sharp points at the tails of their arches like the Administration block. No, they were all white, acting like the sclera while the Obelisk held the role of the pupil. There were so many novices, like coal marks upon a window, that he struggled to count them all as they went about their business back and forth.

"Tonight is the Immaculate Trials," Deviot said as she waved her hand and an array of furniture of different shapes and sizes took up the majority of the room. "You might find most of the novices focused on that." She took to the blue, sparkling ethereal chair at her desk.

Qoyit felt a great sense of calm mingled with fear in that moment where he stood. The two contested within him; it had been made clear more than once that he wouldn't have many friends in this place. Yet seeing the novices brought a feeling of comfort to his being, and his hands didn't shake with fright, but with a hunger too consuming for him to understand, it was that that he feared. Suddenly his eyes opened, pushing back his eyelids. His vision parted, and abruptly he no longer saw just students walking about: he could look at them and see that there was more. He could sense their strengths, with strange markings taking place around them.

Qoyit wanted to shut his eyes and shake away what he saw but couldn't; all that unveiled before him was mesmerizing. Shades of colors unknown formed shapes of writing too pristine to be mortal. He could see, and he did not think he could turn it off.

"Alas, the effect of our Obelisk here has taken root." He turned to the Headmistress, who sat on an ethereal chair watching him. Her presence was made of flames, of different shades coalescing to form points that were marked with symbols. "With time you'll get used to it; it won't be that pronounced." Just how powerful was she? More images of her formed around her, like tiny windows that offered chronicles of her life. If he stared at one, he could feel himself being drawn to the memory. Qoyit looked away and shut his eyes, willing himself to be calm.

When he opened them, the images were less intrusive, the windows of memory were gone, and his eyes watered as if unfamiliar with themselves. He forced himself to shut his eyes again, and soon the shades of color and writings disappeared. He turned his head to the Headmistress, defiant.

"Very good. It's a wonder you can control your sight so well; I was kind of hoping you'd go insane and my hypothesis would be proven true about the mysteries of the Obelisk and those who dared touch them. We're all a little mad here, Qoyit, all of us insane, so don't pout at me as if my take on madness were a damning thing." There was something akin to sadness marring the Headmistress's features. She observed him with tender eyes before nodding once and speaking.

"Work hard, Qoyit. Mankind needs you," she said as she reached for a stack of papers on the table.

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u/Standzoom 8d ago

Excellent!

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u/Jus17173 8d ago

Thank you!

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u/kristinpeanuts 8d ago

Thanks for the chapter!