The Buried Symbol (The Ruins of Issalia Book 1) (25 page)

BOOK: The Buried Symbol (The Ruins of Issalia Book 1)
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Brock took the opening to ask a question that was bugging him.

Speaking of age, I hope you don

t mind if I ask, but how old are you, Benny?


I know, I know. I

m a bit old to be a student.

Benny

s face twitched a little as he talked.

You see, my mother died when I was sixteen summers, and I stayed to help my father. He was gravely injured in the same accident, and I stayed to care for him. It left him in a coma for months. The temple healer was able to do a lot for him, but he lost a leg in the accident and that will never come back. Otherwise, he

s mostly recovered. That was five years ago.


I

m sorry to hear about your mother, Benny. I lost mine when I was young. I know how hard it can be,

Brock said.

Benny nodded.

Thanks, Brock. It

s hard. Sometimes I still think she

s calling me, and I turn to look for her, but it

s just my imagination I guess.

He absently pushed his spectacles up as he spoke.

Cam

s low voice came from behind,

I

m sorry too, guys. I miss my mother now, and she

s not even dead. She

s just back home in Nor Torin.

Brock slowed a step and reached up to clap Cam on the shoulder.

Since we

ve no family here, let

s treat each other like family. You need someone to look out for you, right Cam?

Cameron smiled.

Sure.


That means you too, Benny,

Brock said to the quirky boy.

Benny

s goofy grin returned.

Thanks, guys.

After a few more steps he added,

My father would be amazed. My first day and I already have more friends here than I had back in Selbin.

Brock smiled. He liked Benny.

A crowd of students stood outside the dining hall doors, slowly funneling through. Brock and his friends merged with the others, shuffling their feet in small steps as the cluster inched forward. After a minute, they squeezed through the doors and into chaos.

Students were milling about in search of an open seat. The tables near the doors were all claimed, forcing Brock and the others to work their way deeper into the room. After a bit of searching, they found a table with three open spots.

The loud peal of a bell caused many students to jump. All eyes turned to the source of the noise. The roar of conversation that had preceded the bell dropped to a hushed whisper. A tall figure dressed in a silver cloak and dark gray clothing stood near the student holding the bell. The bald man smiled and raised his hands as he addressed the room.


Welcome to the Academy,

he said in a booming voice.

I

m Headmaster Vandermark. I am responsible for your training and well-being while you are here. You will find that we

ve assembled the finest minds in the Empire to instruct you as we identify how you can best serve the Ministry and, in turn, ensure that the Empire continues to thrive.


Today is your orientation day,

he continued.

As a welcome gesture, apprentice-level students will serve you lunch. Enjoy the moment. After today, you

ll be serving meals to the apprentice and adept students for the entirety of your first year,

the man bellowed as he paced around the room.

After a brief pause, he continued.

Enjoy your meal but do not dally. When you are finished, find your way to the Academy Temple at the rear of the complex. You have one hour. At that time, we will begin your official orientation.

The man turned and exited the room with two students trailing close behind.

Students in white-trimmed cloaks began to filter out of the kitchen with trays of food. A female student placed a tray before Brock. He smiled when he noticed it was Ashland. She gave him a brief nod and the smallest of smiles before returning to the kitchen.

He looked down at the tray to find a gravy-covered meat pie accompanied by a muffin and a glass of milk. Empty plates and glasses soon occupied the table, the low hum of conversation replacing the sound of forks clinking on plates.


That was delicious. I

m stuffed.

Benny leaned back and rubbed his stomach.


Yeah. The food here isn

t bad,

Brock replied. He turned toward Cameron, who stared down at his empty plate.

What

s wrong, Cam?


Well, I guess I

m still hungry,

Cam replied.

Brock smiled and stood.

Let me see what I can do.

Looping around the perimeter of the room, he headed for the kitchen. Approaching the long counter that separated him from the kitchen itself, he waved to an old woman with curly gray hair.


Excuse me.

Brock held his hand high over his head to get her attention.

I have a large friend who

s still hungry. Do you by chance have some extra food I can bring to him?


Sure, dearie.

The woman went to the rear counter and popped a muffin out of a metal cooking tray.

Here you go.

She handed him a small plate holding the muffin.


Thank you,

Brock said with a smile.

I

m Brock. I

m new here.

She nodded.

It

s nice to meet you, Brock. I figured you were new when I saw the novice cloak.

She wiped her hands on her apron.

I

m Shirley, the head cook.


Nice to meet you, Shirley.

He backed away.

Thanks again for the muffin.

He spun and returned to the dining hall. After setting the muffin in front of Cameron, Brock reclaimed his seat on the bench.


Wow. Thanks, Brock.

Cameron took a big bite of the warm pastry.


I wonder what happens at orientation,

Benny said.

Brock shrugged.

I don

t know. But we

re about to find out.

CHAPTER 40

 

One of the buildings Brock had visited during his evaluation was a temple that he considered impressive. Now that he sat in the real temple, the other seemed pitiful. It was like comparing a lake to the ocean.

While the smaller temple could seat a couple hundred people, this temple was large enough for thousands. Rows upon rows of benches ran in concentric circles, all facing the dais in the center.

Sunlight streaming through the glass ceiling shined on a teardrop shaped object suspended below the center of its dome. Light reflecting from the tiny mirrored panels on the teardrop caused prismatic shapes to dance around the huge space.

Brock

s focus shifted to the dais, raised above the floor of the huge bowl. Five masters draped in purple sat in chairs arranged on the platform. Headmaster Vandermark stood before them, his hands leaning on the glowstone altar as he waited for the students to claim a seat. Vandermark raised his hands to quiet the crowd.


Welcome to the Academy, novices.

Though Vandermark stood a good distance away, Brock could hear him clearly.


Masters within the Ministry, all former Academy students, hold critical positions throughout the Empire. They lead and guide other members of the Ministry, who guide citizens of the Empire. They build new devices to improve society. They protect our people and our lands by fighting in the Holy Army. They gather, analyze, and share knowledge used to ensure a better future. They set us on our course in life, cure our sicknesses, and heal our wounded.


When these masters leave the Academy, they are commissioned to seek-out future students, but only those who exhibit the highest potential. You sit here today as the fruits of their labor.

His arms swept wide in a flourish.

From across the Empire, you

ve journeyed to become the newest members of this illustrious institution. You are about to begin another journey--not one of physical distance, but one of academic, spiritual, and physical growth.

As the headmaster paused, Brock glanced around. All eyes were directed toward the man on the dais.


I realize that you know little of what is to come. This is expected. You see, what transpires here is to remain secret. By joining the Academy, you swear to an oath of secrecy. Stay true to your oath and you stay true to Issal.

His firm gaze scanned the room before continuing.


The five masters sitting here,

he gestured to the men and women seated behind him,

will take the active lead in your first year of education.


Master Varius will be your guide in the ecclesiastic arts.

Upon saying her name, Varius stood and nodded to the crowd.


Master Budakis will train you in the arts of the paladin.

The large man stood and thumped a meaty fist to his chest.


Master Nindlerod instructs students in the arts of engineering.

The quirky old man stood and waved like a child.


Master Pretencia is your expert in hierarchal arts.

The man stood and stared into the crowd with an intense gaze, as if seeking his prey.


Master Mae will be your Lore master, instructing you on the history of our Empire.

A small dark-haired woman stood and gave a quick bow.

Vandermark nodded to the masters before again addressing the students.


When you return to your rooms, you

ll each find your personal schedule. Not only will you be learning in the classroom, but you will also be required to do research, work on projects, and refine your skills outside of class. When your first year is complete, you

ll have a basic knowledge of all five ministry arts.

Vandermark paused again, allowing this information to sink in.


The potential and dedication you exhibit in the coming months are critical to your future. When the year is complete, most of you will be selected by one these masters to join his or her department to continue your training. The remaining students will be assigned positions within temples throughout the Empire, their tenure at the Academy ending after just one year.

Brock considered the deceitful nature of his admission. As an Unchosen, would he be able to maintain this charade? Did he have the talent to become a master? Taking a deep breath, he focused on his resolve, burying the doubt. He could
not
think that way.

Vandermark continued.

You

ve been presented an opportunity offered to but a few hundred young adults each year. Dedicate yourself to your training, and we will see you here next year and beyond.


You have the rest of the day to yourself. Relish the freedom. Your training begins at sun up tomorrow.

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