Chapter 42

If the Sophic Species are peoples capable of complex thought and civil organization, then the Bellicose Species are their dark twins: Firbolgs, Arachnytes, Lizard Folk, and more. These are sapient species whose cultures commonly revolve around raw power, trickery, and the hunting of Sophic Species for sport or food.

Day 381, Quenchenday

Dr. Brooksheen entered the examination room. Her motions were purposeful. Mystagogue Navor sat in a chair, cycling through anatomy displays.

“Well, it’s nice to see you again, young man,” the doctor mused, looking over my notes. “I’m shocked I haven’t seen you more frequently,” she teased. “Have you been putting Lady Kaysim through the rings?”

“Lady Kaysim? Oh! Tessa.” My expression fell. “She’s been a big help, but she got hurt, badly.” I pulled the necklace I had made for her from my pocket. The storage crystal was cracked.

“I saw her name on the patient list. Could you tell me what happened?”

I guiltily glanced up, then threw my gaze to the floor. “Thallos wasn’t who he acted to be. Tessa stepped in to heal me, and he put a dagger in her back.”

I heard her shocked intake of breath. “Thrasher said she wasn’t in immediate danger, but her spine was severed.”

“That’s terrible. But you can’t blame yourself.”

Tears welled. “How can I not?” I snapped.

Navor stood and slapped me on the back of the head. “You need to grow up, kid. She knew the danger.”

I massaged my head. “I just hope whoever heals her is good enough to get her walking again.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Dr. Brooksheen cooed.

“What? What is it?”

“Gnomes can’t have Life Myst used on them for healing,” Navor stated.

I looked at her in horror. “But what about cybernetics? They can still bind the spinal cord, right?”

Both women slowly shook their heads. My heart shuddered. Tessa would be in a wheelchair for the rest of her life.

“Kid,” Navor started, “I can feel the self-loathing rolling off you like stink off a troll.”

The doctor cleared her throat. “There’s nothing you can do for her right now. Let me tend to your wounds.”

I reluctantly agreed. For the hour and a half she patched me up, she tried to make small talk, but I was as receptive as a dormant golem. The only time I came back to reality was when she moved to heal the cut over my eye. I caught her hand. She gave me a quizzical look.

That cut was the last time Thallos drew my blood. Should I keep it? A reminder? No. I had plenty of reminders. I didn’t need a brand I couldn’t hide.

I dropped my grip. She gave an understanding smile as she pressed one hand above the wound and the other below. The itch was more of a burning pins-and-needles sensation. I gritted my teeth and bore it.

She gave me a last once-over and some encouraging words before she left. Navor jostled my shoulder. “Listen, kid. I know you’re in shock. If you don’t want to talk, we can do it tomorrow.”

“What? No. But I want some other people present.”

“Who?”

“My friends. My real friends. Nennel, Ferris, and Tessa. They deserve the truth.”

She gave me a warning look. “Are you sure? This isn't something to be shared lightly. If they hear this, they can’t turn back. They could be in danger. Are you willing to take that chance?”

I was terrified my little world could fall apart. But they needed to know. I couldn’t make this about me. I had to grow up.

“Y-yeah,” I muttered.

She rubbed her cheek. “Alright. I know you’re not hungry, but your Gnomish friend will be in surgery for a bit. Gather your cohorts and tell them what happened. Tell them you’re waiting for me to gather you all when Tessa can have visitors. Have a light snack. Trust me, you won’t think about eating for a while.” She held the door open. “Now move your scrawny ass, kid.”

I gave a dejected sigh and followed orders.

I didn’t know how, but it was evening. Six o’clock on the last day of the school year. I should have been celebrating. Instead, I was in the back corner of the DFAC, picking at what might have been stroganoff. Nel and Ferris sat across from me, their untouched sandwiches before them. The only sound was the buzz of fluorescent lights.

They looked at me in shock after I explained. Ferris ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, Ive. This is a lot. It’s a bit… dacker.”

“Dacker? You’re kidding,” Nel said, a pressure to her words. “This is full-blown insane. The secret sect being true.”

“And they follow a bloodthirsty fragment,” came Ferris.

“Thallos was working for another organization,” said Nel.

“And spying on the hidden sect,” said Ferris.

“Or how about you talked him into letting Rose join your secret spy club?”

“Secret assassin spy club,” he corrected. “Or that Rose was stealing MyCast to trick you.”

“And that she almost died and was upset with you for saving her.”

“And stab training. Iver, do you have any idea how all this sounds?” Nel said skeptically.

“I don’t know, Nel. Look at him. His shirt is scraps, and I’m not hallucinating all those scars,” Ferris pointed out.

She raised her hands. “Alright, the training might be true. But Thallos nearly killing him and stabbing Tess? Rose fleeing into a portal with him? This has to be an elaborate story.”

“Nnneelll,” Ferris teased. He pointed at me, mock-whispering, “Tatters.”

As they questioned every point, I chewed my cheek and bounced my knee. When I had taken enough, I jabbed a finger between them. “Fine! You want proof?” I waved at my decimated shirt. “Exhibit A. If you need more, you can ask Tessa, Thrasher, Navor, and the Mysteriarch. Separately. They’ll all corroborate.”

Nel leaned forward. “Well, Thrasher is a silent wall of meat. The Mysteriarch would never meet a Slate. The only one who could give me a straight answer is Tess, because I’ve never heard of Navor.”

Ferris leaned in. “Actually, I have. Angry, scarred-up old Human lady with one bad eye. They call her the Beast Eater.”

“Beast Eater?”

“Oh, yeah! They say she makes a sport of hunting dangerous monsters and cooks up what she kills. She’d even eat other sapients, including the Bellicose Species.”

Nel rolled her eyes. “Okay, now I know you’re making this up.”

Right on cue, the doors swung open, and a female figure in studded leather strolled in. I shifted from gawking to giving Nel a triumphant grin. Navor stalked to the table. “Alright, kids, your horned hero here,” she gestured to me, “wants to share some very dangerous information.”

“Beast Eater,” squeaked Nennel.

The instructor shot her a look. “I don’t see what my culinary tastes have to do with me disclosing confidential information.”

“Dangerous how?” Ferris asked.

Navor cocked a hip. “You told them, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Everything?”

“Everything from my end.”

She turned to Nennel. “Everything he told you is true.”

“Everything?!”

“Well, I didn’t witness it all, but Thrasher and K have confirmed a good bit of it.”

“Who’s K?”

“You would know her as Mysteriarch Maidra Kaydammin.”

“The secret sixth sect?” pressed Nel.

“Yeah. I’m a Dark Hunter. An instructor. But while Horn-Head here told you what he thought was true, he’s been spoon-fed… altered information. I’ll explain when we get to the Gnome girl’s room.”

“She can have guests?” I perked up.

“Why else would I be taking you there?”

I shot to my feet. As we left, hope turned to dread. Would Tessa blame me? I trailed the group until Navor threatened to string me up by my toes.

We passed through the Med Center doors. Navor led us straight past check-in, stopping at an infirmary room. “If you follow me, there is no turning back. The information you are about to be given is dangerous. Are you still willing?”

We all nodded. I entered last. Tess’s room was larger than any I’d had. She lay slouched under a mound of blankets, a lazy, drugged smile on her face. A massive chair was filled with a certain monolithic Orc.

Navor gestured to the chairs. I took the one beside Thrasher. “Hey, Tess,” I said tentatively.

“Oh. Hey there, Iver.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Well, I can’t feel my legs, but I feel kinda… foamy. Like a bucket full of butterflies having a bubble bath,” she giggled.

She was clearly on pain meds. Navor locked the door and propped her back against it. “Alright, before we get neck-deep, a question for you, Iver. I’m guessing Thallos told you his side was the good guys.”

“Yeah.”

“And what did he say his organization was?”

“A Blood Arbiter of a group called The Company.”

She rolled her eye. “I’ve heard of those jack-mule twits. Let’s get one thing straight. Everyone is a hero in their own story. Nothing is truly all good or all evil. The whole of creation is shades of gray.” She paused. “That being said, our order is no exception. We do dirty work for what we consider the greater good.”

“You mean why we have assassins,” Nel stated.

“That is a shadow at the surface, but yes.”

Ferris leaned forward. “Is what the Order teaches really what’s best for everyone?”

Thrasher spoke. “There is seldom something that is best for everyone. Someone usually ends up on the losing end.”

“And The Company?” I asked.

Navor blew out a breath. “Their goal is global unification.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad,” said Ferris.

“It is when their process involves inhumane experimentation and training,” she gestured to me, “and their ‘global unification’,” she said with air quotes, “is based on destroying or controlling any other form of civil order, ending with total world domination.”

Ferris pointed at her, looking at me. “Now that does not sound so warm and fuzzy.”

“That is why we have labeled them an extremist faction.”

“But what about the Dark Fragment and the Dark Hunter Sect?” I pressed.

“That’s where things get on the darker end. But even at our worst, you won’t find Dark Hunters stealing innocents for blood sacrifice. We are the Sect trained to fill any role, the Order’s multi-tool.”

“And the Fragment?”

“I’m getting there, horn-head. The goddess fragment is Her Fragment of the Blighted Heart. She was the part of the Nameless Goddess that came in contact with the darkness. We thought she was a shadow, but when we learned the truth, we tried to communicate. She could be the strongest of the fragments, but she has no love for life without a heart.”

“She has no heart?” Nel asked, enraptured.

Thrasher stepped in. “No, she craves one. When we thought her just a dark shard, she would take hearts from members within the Order.”

Navor picked it back up. “Records say she was a nightmare. She’d just slide into existence, rip out a heart, and vanish. Slaying, trapping, banishing—nothing worked. When the Order realized she was a deity, research started.”

Thrasher stepped in again. “What was found was she was after a particular type of heart.”

“Particular like blood type?” I asked.

“Something more ephemeral. She needs the heart of someone who has loved and lost. A wife whose husband died, a father who lost a child. We think the emotional pain reminds her of what she once was.”

Navor picked it back up. “The key is they must have felt trust, love, and the pain of loss. If she consumes a heart with these conditions, she changes. For the next seven years, she becomes a kind, powerful matron goddess, watching over the world.”

“Okay,” Ferris said. “So crazy, powerful, heart-eating goddess turns to nice goddess that… acts like a mother?”

Thrasher and Navor snorted. “You can think of it that way,” he said.

I leaned forward. “And where do these hearts come from? I doubt we can farm them.”

Navor pointed at me. “That’s where it gets dirty. Every seven years, a Dark Hunter is chosen to find a heart and take it. It’s not pretty, but the choice is kill one to keep her sane or let her tear through our people. This is why the sect is kept hidden.”

I sat back, brooding. I could see the reason, understand the logic. But carving out someone’s heart was disturbing.

“How would this be dangerous for us?” Nel asked.

“Think about it, Tin-Cheeks. If you know something secret and let it slip, you become a prime target.”

I turned to Nel and Ferris. “So you guys don’t hate me for all this?”

“What?”

“Dude, of course not,” Ferris said. “I thought my Slate year was bad, but you, Ive… it’s a divine force of will you survived. Attempted murder, secrets, lies, brainwashing, AND STAB TRAINING!”

I looked down, too shy. “It’s not that big a deal. You two did the same.”

A shadow loomed over me. Nel flicked me between the eyes. “Ow!” She crouched down. “Listen here, you horned goofball. I’ve already claimed you as my brother. It’s gonna take more than a year of trainee action-hero to make me hate you.”

“I don’t hate you either, Ivey,” Tess said, her voice warbling.

I gave her a kind smile. “Let’s wait until you’re sober.”

She opened her mouth when the shadows in the corner coalesced into a tall High Elven woman.

Tessa threw up her hands. “Mistyarss lady!”

The Mysteriarch stepped to the bedside. She patted Tessa’s head. “Yes, young one. I’ve come to check on you. How are you feeling?”

Tess whispered into the headmaster’s ear. After three minutes, she straightened, looked at me with a critically arched brow paired with a smirk of pure mischief. “I see,” she said, before turning to Navor and Thrasher. “Am I late?”

“No, ma’am,” reported Navor. “Just wrapped up the talk. How’d it go?”

“No issue yet. I’ve triggered all protocols and spoken with the other Mysteriarchs. I’m shocked we could have a sleeper agent so deep.”

“The kid says he was part of The Company,” Navor said.

“That explains his training,” K commented.

“We should call in all his previous students.”

K nodded. “Agreed. Quietly. If we can catch them for data extraction, it will go a long way.”

“I’ll jump on it. But what are we going to do with the kid?” The two women turned to look at me.

“He’ll need conditioning reversal and re-education, so we can’t send him home,” Navor said.

“He doesn’t have a home,” the Mysteriarch stated.

“Parents?”

“None. He had a father, but Thallos killed him and took the kid off the street.”

Navor’s lip curled. “That man is sick in the head.”

Nennel piped up. “If Iver doesn’t have a home, he can spend the break with me and my mother.”

The Mysteriarch shook her head. “The reconditioning means he’ll need constant supervision from an instructor.”

“I’ll take him in,” came a deep, sonorous voice. The room turned to Thrasher. He shrugged. “I have a summer manor a short AV trip from here. Secluded and free from distractions.”

I gaped at him. “I’m thankful, Mystagogue, but… why?”

He gave a look of deep understanding. “Let’s just say I can relate to your situation. I’ve worked with you. You’re a precocious boy who’s done nothing wrong and needs time to heal. I extend an open invitation to join me at the manor at any time, but for this break, it will be mandatory.”

A thought came to mind. “But what about next year? I won’t have a mentor.”

The Elf showed a sly smirk. “Terra…”

Navor looked confused. “What?” Then it set in. “Oh. Oh, no. NO, NO, NO!” She took a step back. “Maidra, you know I don’t teach greenhorns.”

“But you’re between pupils…”

“I’m taking a break. Besides, next year, I need to head into the hive-city capital. There’s no way he’ll make it there.”

“I have the utmost faith in the boy. I’m setting this in place now. Dark Striker Terra Navor, you are hereby paired with the newly graduated Tier-One Trainee Iver Maverick. Get lesson plans drawn up before the next school year.”

Navor looked from me to the Mysteriarch in shock. “Oh, you have got to be—!!!”