Consensus Breaking (The Auran Chronicles Book 2) (10 page)

They stood in silence for a few moments. Months earlier, Cade would’ve been furious at Morgan’s revelation of betraying the Brotherhood and slaying his fellows. Hell, he would’ve hunted the man down himself if he’d known. At the time, one did not question the missions given by the Swords. They were followed without question.

Now, though? Morgan deserved praise. He recognised what the Brotherhood had become before anyone else had.

A Brotherhood of killers.

‘What are you thinking?’ Morgan said, after a time.

Cade
sensed
upwards. The girl was still awake, her aura agitated, flicking sporadically on the landing. She was trying her best to listen.

‘Okay, you left the Brotherhood,’ Cade said. He nodded towards the stairs. ‘What about her? What’s her story?’

Morgan’s face changed in an instant. Gone was the gaunt, sombre expression of a veteran from a thousand battles. His eyes lit up, a smile grew, stretching from ear to ear.

‘I spent many years travelling. Not seeking anything in particular. I kept away from the Brotherhood, from the Magistry, from all our kind. I did not seek conflict, I simply wanted peace. At last. It was during one particular trip that I encountered a young girl, barely a teenager. There’d been reports in the local press about her, about her “abilities” that had been attributed to a deal she’d made with some non-existent devil. Her community was God-fearing, and they kept her locked away, hoping to cleanse her of her “illness”.’

‘Let me guess, you freed her?’

‘That was my intention.’ The smile on Morgan’s face vanished. The steel returned, his eyes narrow. ‘I did not count on the magi getting involved.’

Cade sighed. ‘Of course, she was Aware. I’m guessing she did not belong to a Family?’

Morgan spat. ‘A Family? No. She was a mongrel to them, not fit to touch the Weave in any form. But they sent a welcoming party alright. One of their coteries turned up. It had no intention of taking her into their fold, have no fear of that.’

‘What happened?’

Morgan poured another ale. He paced in front of the fire, the liquid swishing around the inside of the metal tankard. ‘What happened? I tell you what happened. They sent two. The rest of them didn’t bother. She was a girl. Nothing to worry about. They would
purge
her, Cade, you know what that means?’

‘They sever her connection to the Weave.’

‘No! It does much more than that! It severs her connection to her
soul!
Did you know that?’

Cade wasn’t sure where this was going, but the manic look in Morgan’s eye told him now wasn’t a time to be challenging the warrior’s tale. ‘No,’ he simply replied.

‘Yes! I didn’t know it. But I’d heard rumours on my travels, stories about the ghosts who would appear to purge these
devils.
Sometimes of course it was the sheol, they’d already possessed the poor soul and they had no option but to be killed. But for those who hadn’t succumbed just yet, the punishment was worse, much worse! Condemned to live a life without a soul. Just an empty shell destined for the void.’

Cade waited until the fire in Morgan’s eyes had died a little. The old warrior sat again and stretched out tired legs. Satisfied that the worst was over, Cade returned to the lounge and sat opposite.

‘There’s more isn’t there. What did the girl refer to? Where are you going?’

Morgan leant forwards, his eyes darting left and right as if to ensure that unwanted ears were not present.

‘We’ve heard rumours of a place, a place where our kind are welcomed,’ he whispered.

‘A place? What place?’

‘A sanctuary. For all the newly awoken, and for those struggling with a connection to the Weave but without the wealth and support of the Families to protect them. There is a leader amongst them, one who is calling to the newly awoken.’

‘I’ve never heard of this. Where is it? Who is this
leader
?’

Morgan sat back. ‘No, not yet, I’m not ready to tell you.’

‘What? Are you serious? You don’t trust me?’

‘I do, boy, of course I do. But
she
doesn’t,’ Morgan replied with a shrug of his shoulders. ‘She’s been through a lot, much more than a girl that age should have to go through. It took me months for her to trust me enough to bring her back with me. I don’t wish to jeopardise it now.’

Cade sat back. ‘I see. And how exactly do you propose to keep her safe whilst en route? Safe from the sheol, or the magi?’

Morgan shrugged. ‘It’s worked so far,’ he said.

‘Well, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need, for what it’s worth.’

‘What about you?’ Morgan said.

‘What about me?’

‘You say the Brotherhood is no more. That you are not the First Sword?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Then come with us. Let us find this sanctuary together. They will probably have use for those with our particular skills.’

The offer was more appealing than it should’ve been. Cade had nothing now. No goals, no aims. He wasn’t even sure why he’d returned to the Croft in the first place. Was this fate? That he’d run into Morgan like this? Was this meant to be his path for now? But then Seb came to mind, and Sylph. Could he just abandon them? Leave them to the whims of the magi? Whatever this sanctuary was, if it even existed, it would definitely not be compatible with the world that Seb had been taken into.

He stood from his chair and walked back to the balcony. He rested his hands on the rails. Morgan joined him a moment later.

‘It is difficult,’ he said.

‘Why? What is keeping you back?’

‘Loose ends,’ he replied, not elaborating further.

‘Tie them up. Come with us.’

Cade smiled. ‘You won’t take no for an answer, will you?’

‘Old age has made me stubborn. It’d be easy for you if you just give in.’

Cade sighed and turned to his former mentor.

‘If I come, it does not mean I am joining this sanctuary. I will come, and I will see. I will see what this
leader
has to say before I make my decision.’

‘Agreed!’

The two clasped hands, then turned their gaze to the twinkling lights below, each lost in their thoughts.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Sylph had either not returned from her first day with the Night Sisters or had left before he’d even woken, but when Seb entered the canteen the next morning she was nowhere to be seen. In all honesty it wasn’t a bad thing. He’d been in a foul mood ever since Anna had shown him the adept’s accommodation the night before.

Stephanie.

The name just kept appearing in his mind.

A young girl, about his age.

A teddy. Clutching it like a little child.

She’d been exposed to something wonderful, something unbelievable.

And they’d ripped it from her.

He’d tossed and turned trying to rationalise it in his head. She was in pain. She was lost. Purging removed that pain. She would no longer feel disconnected from the world.

Bullshit.

When he’d lost his connection to the Weave after Marek had slipped the void collar round his neck, Seb had never felt so lost. It was as if the lights had been turned off in the world and it was a horrible, lonely feeling.

Now they’d done the same to Stephanie. Was she cured? Was that even the right term? She’d seemed peaceful when they’d left, but at what cost? Her aura was dull, duller even than the normal Unaware. Did the purging sever that Weave connection? Or did it do something else, something more fundamental?

He picked at his breakfast for ten minutes before writing the whole thing off as a bad idea. Draining the last of his coffee, he left the canteen, ignoring the other coterie of adepts that had sat near him and looked over in between hushed whispers.

It only took a couple of minutes to make it to the Dome. Already a good number of people were working out, either running on the track or using some of the exercise equipment that stood scattered across the massive area. Ignoring these, he jogged between them, following a path to his eight o’clock appointment.

Whatever you do, don’t be late
, had been Anna’s parting words to him.

It seemed like good advice.

He stopped at the ramp that led into Enzo’s garden. Sentio didn’t reveal anyone outside, so he took a gentle step onto the ramp. No one shouted, so he continued on, stopping at the open paper door that led into the building.

‘Hello?’ he shouted. ‘Master Enzo?’

The air behind him crackled. Seb spun round, revealing a tall man, stick thin and wearing a robe clearly too big for him. The man looked at him with eyes of pure grey. No pupils.

‘Master Enzo?’ he said, frowning as he looked into the man’s eyes. Was he -

‘Blind, yes, if you wish to assign a label to it. My eyes do not function, although that hasn’t been something of consequence for many years.’

The man held out a hand. Seb took it. It felt feeble, light.

‘Seb, it is good of you to come here.’

‘Where did you come from?’ he said.

‘Why, something troubles you?’

‘No. Yes. It’s just that, I couldn’t sense anything before you appeared. I’ve never seen that before.’

‘Ah you have, boy. When you were at the Magistry, did you not see such a sight?’

‘Not to my knowledge.’

‘Not even when you saw mighty Cian fighting in that circle of his?’

‘Well, yes, but that was different. He wasn’t fighting a mage. He was fighting a simulacrum…’ Seb paused. ‘But you’re not a…?’

‘Simulacrum? Why, yes, that’s exactly what I am.’

Enzo laughed and glided past him. Seb watched opened mouthed as the simulacrum vanished into a room beyond a sliding door to the right. Unsure of what else to do, Seb followed, entering a large square room. On one wall a large rack displayed a variety of melee weaponry, from simple staffs and rattan sticks to more ornate blades and spears that Seb had never encountered before.

‘I didn’t know you could be so…
real
,’ Seb said.

‘The simulacra are a powerful type of magic. The spirits of ancient and powerful magi channelled parts of themselves, along with their memories, into constructs like myself, or the one you had at the Magistry. We serve as repositories of ancient information relating to the Weave and its use.’

‘I had no idea. I just thought they –
you –
were some kind of training simulation.’

‘To the uninitiated, perhaps that is all we appear to be. But if used correctly, we are a great source of knowledge, especially…’ Enzo nodded towards the weaponry hung on the wall, ‘…relating to all matters of the martial variety.’

‘I had no idea,’ Seb said.

‘Well, now you do,’ Enzo replied. He nodded downwards. ‘Enough talking. Shoes off.’ Enzo took up a position in the centre of the room, both hands behind his back. Seb obeyed and took off his trainers, placing them on the floor by the door. He stepped inside the room.

‘You know why you are here?’

‘To train?’

‘Indeed. Barach had told me you have strong abilities, but they are uneven. You are strong but clumsy, quick but unfocused.’

‘I didn’t know he knew me that well.’

Enzo smiled. ‘Barach is a good man. Do not judge his demeanour for a lack of interest.’

‘I’ll bear that in mind.’

‘Good. Then in that case I think it’s best for me to see where you are right now. I can feel your
sense,
it is strong, powerful. Your Avatari burns away like a furnace. But it is your skills in the martial realm I need to see. A storm is coming, and we need our warriors to be the best they can be.’

Enzo took off his robe and hung it on a peg on the wall. He wore a loose-fitting gi over a wiry body. He turned back, bowed, and then took a combat stance that Seb didn’t recognise. With his head cocked to one side, Enzo beckoned him forwards.

‘Come, attack me, and let me see what they’ve made of you.’

This was more like it. The frustration at the mission with the coterie had been building for hours, the tension in his muscles almost tangible. He’d woken in the night with a strange anger burning in his belly, one that had only grown as the morning had progressed.

And nothing got rid of anger than a good workout.

Avatari flared, and Seb shot forwards. Enzo was blind, but that amounted to nothing in the world of the magi. Other senses, magnified by Sentio, would more than compensate for any deficiency. And it was for that reason that Seb decided he would not hold back.

He was on Enzo straight away. His form was good, his strikes measured and hard, his footwork quick. Yet Enzo did not block. He dodged and ducked, Seb’s strikes agonisingly millimetres away. A couple of times Seb thought he’d caught the Master unawares, but at the last possible moment his attempted strike struck the air behind its target.

This dance went on for seconds. Seb on the attack, Enzo retreating, evading attack after attack.

The Master never raised his hands once.

At the end of one particular move, one where Seb had thrown everything he had behind it, he suddenly found he wasn’t hitting air, but instead his arm was resting on Enzo’s shoulder, the fist dangling uselessly beyond the Master’s head.

What the hell?

‘You fight with great speed and power,’ Enzo said. He flexed his shoulder and Seb went tumbling backwards onto the floor. Enzo walked towards him, Seb scrabbling back. ‘But your mind is trapped in the confines of the Unaware. You subconsciously limit yourself to the rules they’ve placed on themselves.’

Seb got back to his feet. ‘What do you mean? I’m faster than them. No Unaware can move like we can.’

Enzo nodded slightly. ‘No, but there is more to a mage than speed and strength. You channel Avatari well, as it is native to you. You can feel its energy coursing through your veins. It makes you strong. That’s something you understand. But you need to expand your mind in order to reach your potential.’

Enzo sat cross-legged on the floor. ‘Join me, Seb.’

Seb obeyed. Mirroring Enzo’s position opposite him.

‘You know of Novo, yes?’

Seb’s heart skipped a beat. He swallowed. ‘Yes.’

‘What is it?’

‘The school of change. With it we can affect external reality, that which is perceived by others. We evoke energies from the Weave. We can induce changes in the world as seen by the Unaware.’

‘That is correct. And what dangers are there with Novo? More so than you’d see with the other schools?’

Seb had read this a thousand times in the Skelwith library and the answers came freely:

‘We are challenging the Consensus directly. With Sentio it’s just internal to us, no one can detect that. Avatari is our body, so strength, speed, but all limited by what a human body could actually do. With Novo we are affecting what everyone else can see, feel and touch. We are trying to change a reality based on centuries of hardening by the Unaware.’

‘Good, good. You are well read. This will make it easier,’ Enzo said. ‘Very well, close your eyes. Link with me.’

Seb did as instructed. The connection came easily, Enzo’s powerful aura joining with his own. Without bidding, the library of Runic Script stored in his mind appeared.

‘You have learned many Scripts in your short time.’ Enzo sounded impressed.

‘I had a lot of time to study.’

‘Perhaps, but not all of these are from books. They just appeared, yes?’

Seb thought on that. He had noticed new Scripts appear over time but he’d put that down to his growing mastery of the Weave allowing more to appear.

‘I guess they did, yes.’

‘Interesting.’

‘Is that bad?’

‘The opposite. I’ve just not seen as many natural emergences as this for a long time. You are obviously a natural.’

Seb felt his cheeks flush. ‘Thanks.’

‘Let us proceed. I am going to enable the Novo library now. As before you will get the base set of patterns in your mind. Some will not be callable, and that is normal. As your mind grows more will turn white in your mind, meaning that they can be used. Take your time to study them, what they take as inputs, what the effect is they produce. Be mindful of the level of challenge they impart on the Consensus. Use your own commonsense when using them. Keep the effects subtle, not overt. Subterfuge and illusion are your friends. Understand?’

He nodded, and then realised Enzo wasn’t looking at him. ‘I do,’ he said out loud.

‘Good. Open your eyes. Stand up.’

Seb obeyed. Enzo was stood also.

‘So, I’m ready?’

Enzo smiled. ‘For what?’

‘Novo. You were going to give me the patterns?’

‘It is done already. What were you expecting? Fireworks and a cake?’

Seb laughed uncertainly. He called the library of Runic Script in his mind. It obviously hadn’t worked; he hadn’t felt a thing. He’d surely notice if -

Woah
.

It was there. A vast library of Runic Script. Thousands upon thousands of new patterns under Novo. Much more so than he’d ever seen under Sentio.

‘You see?’

‘There’s so many.’

‘Indeed there is. Many magi have contributed to the libraries over the millennia. Some will be more useful than others, but take a look, learn them, see what you can do.’

Seb scrolled through row after row, column after column. There were so many to choose from. Some were obvious, like
darken
, others were less obvious, or even ominous, like
subvert
. Others were more intriguing, with Sentio patterns listed alongside them.

‘There is Sentio here, too,’ he said.

‘Strong Sentio is key for Novo mastery,’ Enzo said. ‘Anna will show you this in her field training, but in simple terms, in order to
change
reality, you must first learn to
sense
reality.’

‘Sentio,’ Seb said.

‘Sentio,’ Enzo repeated.

‘Now, let us try again. But lower your Avatari this time. Increase your
sense
. Do you know why I did not need to block you at all?’

‘You have some crazy ninja skills?’ Seb said.

Enzo smiled. ‘I read you, Seb. I used only Sentio. Nothing more. I could feel your heartbeat, I could detect when you would use a burst of energy and when you would hold back. I could sense the shift in muscles, the contraction before a strike, the moving of posture as you changed angle. But most of all, Seb, I could read
this
,’
Enzo tapped the side of his head. ‘I could read your intentions, your frustrations. When you attack, your shield is weakest, and it is this that allowed me to know what you intended, even before you did yourself. Understand?’

‘I think so.’

‘Excellent. Now clear your mind. Lower your Avatari. Use your
sense
.’

A second passed. Seb let out a deep breath.