Chapter 4

Chapter Four.

We now return five years earlier, to a younger Sylva at the One Hundred and Third Division in Grayhaven.

Sylva entered the grounds of the one hundred and third division of the Aegis, anxious for the work to begin. She was exactly where she wanted to be.

So many of the other recruits who passed the crucible, signed the contract, and donned Aegis blue went into the rank and file of the infantry, whether their aptitude tests marked them as officer material or regular enlisted.

She carried the stack of books and the uniform the quartermaster had handed her. The man had looked at her queerly as she showed him the writ assigning her to the enigmatic one hundred and third division. Runesmiths were trained in a number of other divisions of the Aegis that specialized in runework, but the enigmatic “one-zero-three” rarely saw the front lines. They resided inside a walled complex in Grayhaven, happy to be left to their books and experiments.

She had just come from orientation and buzzed with excitement. The words of the officer resonated with her. Runework is how we play at being gods. The thought of bending essence to her purpose quickened her step on her way to her dormitory.

Shards sat at the center of nearly every useful thing in Telnira. Lamps, trams, steam-guns, wardlines, prosthetics, all of it ran on essence drawn from stones that no miner had ever dug from honest earth. Priests liked to say the gods made the Spire to mirror the hells and prepare mankind to resist them. The Aegis did not care where the power came from so long as it fed the war.

“So where are you from?” someone asked. A tall boy carrying the same gear jarred her rudely from her thoughts. He was thick in the neck but narrow at the hip and his teeth were white and straight.

“Montvallier,” she replied.

“I visited once on holiday with my family. The city is beautiful,” he said, staring at her expectantly.

“That’s nice,” she said. What an odd boy. Why would she want to know about his family’s vacation? It was true, her home was beautiful. White plaster from the chalk in the nearby hills and the white limestone found beneath it marked almost all the buildings earning the label of the ivory city. Her family lived in a reasonably appointed apartment in a white-plastered building in the northern quadrant. Her two older brothers shared a room, but she had her own. That suited her. Too much time with the boys exhausted her. The books lining her shelves made for much more peaceful companions.

She glanced over and realized the boy was still walking next to her, grinning stupidly. Once he was sure she had noticed him again, he shifted his things to one hand, nearly dropped them, and offered her the other.

“My name is Gentry. May I know yours?”

“Sylva,” she replied with a sigh. She stared at his hand, appalled by the idea of risking her books to take it. Instead, she lifted her elbow and tapped it against the center of his palm.

Gentry stared at his hand for a moment, his brows drawing together.

“This has been nice, Gentry, but I am sure you need to get started on your reading, as do I. Classes are only four days away, and there are five of these. I should have time, but I don’t want to be rushed.”

“You mean to read them before classes start?” he said through a barked laugh. “That is the coursework for the next four months.”

“Gentry, this is only the direction of our coursework for the term. There is a whole library waiting for us to understand the nuance behind these books. They are general guides, after all. I haven’t even had time to visit the library yet. The quartermaster was hardly helpful when I asked for any detail about it. He just told me to see for myself.”

“Um, all right. So, I will see you soon?”

“Gentry, there are only twenty-five of us. We will see each other almost every day, beginning next week. Good day!” she said, turning down a hall at the direction of a cardstock map that came with her books.

She was delighted that her room came with a bookshelf and small shard-lamp above her bed. There was even a curtain to draw around her so late nights wouldn’t disturb her flatmate, whose bed was mere feet from hers.

She learned her flatmate’s name on the morning of her third day when the timid girl pulled back her curtain to suggest that Sylva visit the dining hall, and to offer to show her the communal shower facility in the girl’s dormitory. It was a nice gesture, and Sylva was running out of the salt pork she had packed from home, so she brushed the crumbs from her sheets and followed the girl to the bathrooms.

“Why do you study so hard? Are you vying for a command post?” Rhyna asked.

“Command? Hardly,” Sylva replied. “I’m not studying, I just want to know how it all works. Haven’t you stared at the runes that power the tram engines, that run along the steam guns, and wondered what makes those patterns take essence from a shard and turn it into heat? Or for that matter, why does a stone dropped from hellspawn hold power at all? We crush them to absorb essence to make our bodies powerful enough to climb the Spire and fight in the rift wars, but what is essence? How do shards form? You and I now have access to the greatest repository of knowledge on runework in the whole of Telnira!”

The books outlined how essence was taken in a shard at a time. It stretched the soul until the body could bear more, and soldiers climbed the Spire to harden themselves against the hells. Without that climb, the rift war would already have swallowed the city-states whole.

Rhyna smiled but shook her head. “There will be plenty of time for study. You’re going to need friends to survive here. You and I are in the common dormitories. There are sons and daughters of prefects and electors all over the academy. Especially here. Their parents help fund the research and the command positions and research grants go to the students with the highest marks.”

Sylva stared back blankly. The city-states paid for the war and expected influence over the machinery that ran it. Prefects controlled districts, electors steered policy, and both liked to seed their children wherever command, research, and prestige converged.

Let them choose how things are done, I just want to know how essence becomes power.

“If you study that hard, everyone will know, and you will be a target. They will think that you are competition for the top spots.” Rhyna said, with a sigh.

“Aren’t I?”

Rhyna threw up her hands, then indicated a shower. “You are going to need friends, and you won’t make any smelling like salt pork and three days without a shower. Get ready and we will go get some breakfast.”

Sylva wiped at the tendrils of wet fabric left by her still dripping hair as Rhyna led her through the food line in the dining hall. The girl prattled about this family or that. A daughter from Harbor’s Edge whose father was the Maritime Prefect had stood next to her in the quartermaster line. A boy whose father was an elector in Montvallier who smiled at her during the orientation ceremony.

It baffled Sylva that Rhyna could have gained entrance to the one hundred and third division and still behave as though they were twelve again on their first day of secondary education. This was an opportunity to do work that mattered. They should be learning what they needed to be remembered as people who changed the war effort, or altered how essence was used in everyday life by those who did not cultivate with shards.

The research performed here had led to functional prosthetics for those maimed in the Spire. The Cog Marines made constant requests of their division for new and inventive ways to weaponize the medical prosthetics. To her, it made sense to turn a handicap into an advantage, but those crazy fools wanted to graft metal into healthy limbs to gain one. She found that repulsive, but the technology required was fascinating.

“It is going to be so much fun,” Rhyna squealed as she set her tray on one of the long tables lining the interior of the gray brick dining hall. The serving line ran along the back of the room, and two sets of doors stood on either side, leading to the four dormitories in the division: two for boys, one for girls, and one for faculty. Between the doors hung banners with the concentric circles of an empowerment rune they used as the sigil of their division. From her research, Sylva knew that each faculty member was required to teach classes to maintain the coveted research grants that funded experiments and cutting-edge applications of new wards. Sylva’s eyes flicked between Rhyna and the high table where the researchers sat. All Sylva could see was thirty keys seated together at a table on a raised platform on the opposite side of the room from the food lines. Servers brought food to the high table so they didn’t have to resort to waiting in line. She smiled as she wondered which one of them was sitting in her seat.

“Don’t worry about a thing,” continued Rhyna, oblivious that Sylva wasn’t paying attention. “I will help you. Being shy can be an advantage too. Some boys like finding something to chase.”

“Hi Sylva!”

As if summoned, Gentry made his second appearance.

“Good morning, Gentry,” Sylva said. “You should meet my friend Rhyna. She loves to talk.”

Rhyna’s surprised expression slipped into elation as she offered her hand to him.

“Gentry Brentwood?” Rhyna asked. “The Gentry whose father runs the shipping sleds through Doreal?”

Gentry scratched his head, smiling bashfully, as he took her hand with a light shake. “Hard to shake a reputation I suppose, though I am nothing like my father.”

“Modesty doesn’t suit you, sir. I am Rhyna Ginquist, it’s a pleasure.”

Sylva rolled her eyes at them. Cut from the same cloth.

Gentry was right in one thing; his reputation did precede him. Doreal was the Aegis fortress at the center of the third level of the Spire. Portals to cities all over Telnira were spread across the icy roads of that level so the city of Greed promised significant wealth if one could survive the icy roads and the marauder hellspawn that plagued them. The Brentwoods were well known and had a reputation for using coin to lean on any who thought to stand against them. They weren’t necessarily evil, but they were dangerous and used to getting what they wanted.

Rhyna gave Sylva a meaningful look before inviting Gentry to sit down.

“I underestimated you, Sylva,” she crooned. “Here I was thinking you weren’t making any social overtures since arriving.”

“It was more like I chased her for a bit the first day,” Gentry interjected. “How is the studying going by the way? You seemed to be in quite the hurry to get started.”

Sylva smiled at the subject change. “I am on the last of the five books. They were all right. There is just a frustrating lack of detail. Most of the coursework is based on theory and the history of the divisions of runework. They also wouldn’t admit me to the library yet. Did you know that you need permission from a professor to check out any text on applied methods of runework? They accused me of risking blowing up my dormitory. As if I would be that reckless,” she huffed.

“You’re her flatmate?” Gentry asked Rhyna, who nodded solemnly.

“I would look into some reinforced barriers for your bed,” he said, chuckling.

Sylva gave him a withering look, which inspired Rhyna to join in the laughter.

“I won’t blow anyone up,” Sylva said. “The professors can give us access to the applied runework labs which are vented and reinforced to contain any mistakes.”

“And if they won’t grant you access?” Gentry asked.

Sylva looked at him, aghast, as if the thought never occurred to her.

“Don’t worry, Sylva,” Rhyna said, smiling. “If they say no, I will petition for an exception to be granted and have Gentry pay any bribes needed to make it happen.”

“It’s the least I could do in the name of chivalry and self-preservation,” Gentry said sagely.

“I am no rogue scientist,” Sylva insisted. “I plan to follow all the safety precautions. There is a whole textbook on it. That one is next on my list.”

“I jest, Sylva,” said Gentry. “Seriously, though, you need to spend time outside your studies. The training in the One-zero-three is the best research-networking opportunity you are ever likely to have. Everyone here is a genius, and you’ll need help to make any significant strides in this field.”

Sylva narrowed her eyes at him, searching for further mockery but saw none. She nodded and smiled slightly as she stood to leave. “I suppose you’re right. But for today, I need to read. Tomorrow classes begin and they can no longer bar me from finding my answers.”