Faith and Moonlight (5 page)

The clash and rattle of training swords had become a
constant rhythm to Roan over the past two weeks. The sound was the melody over
the throbbing rhythm of power he felt waiting on the other side of the veil.

That melody never seemed more discordant than it did when
Kay practiced.

Roan sat on one of the benches in the Hourglass, watching
her sparring with Erik. As the two of them moved across the pristine white
sand, he saw a dozen ways that Erik left himself open, a dozen opportunities
for Kay to shift in, close the distance, strike, and land a hit.

She did not notice any. Instead, when Erik launched an
attack, Kay reacted too aggressively, trying to beat his blade away where a
simple parry would have served. The exertion pushed her out of alignment and
she crossed her feet, tripping.

As Kay fell, Roan almost sprinted down to help, but caught
himself before the first step. Instead, he slowly sat as Erik Saer helped Kay
to her feet.

Watching this day after day was an exercise in frustration.
It ate at him that he could not help her, but every time he tried, their
cumulative frustration only made things worse. It came so easily to Roan that
he struggled explain anything. Finally, Roan had ceded Kay’s training to Erik
and Sabine, hoping they could do what he could not.

The lessons had improved. Sabine was talented and
inspiring, and Erik was patient and willing to explain. Kay responded well to
that approach. More than that, she seemed to be responding to Erik. Roan had
noticed the two had grown closer as he and Kay drifted further apart, but Roan
quickly silenced any thoughts of jealousy.

The situation was too dire for such things.

Sabine’s skill. Erik’s patience, none of it mattered,
because Kay was no closer to piercing the veil than when she first entered
Faith. Her time ran shorter with every day of failure.

Two weeks. That was all she had left. Half their time was
gone.

Roan gritted his teeth as Kay swung her blade.

“I thought I would find you here.”

The close voice shocked Roan, having been so focused on Kay
he had not heard Gideon approach. Roan did not turn to acknowledge the young
man. “Running an errand for a preceptor?” Roan asked.

“No. I am here on my own errand.”

“And what errand is that?”

“I’d like you to come with me to the statue of Baheyer,”
Gideon responded. Before Roan could reply, Gideon gestured with his chin toward
the two combatants below. “I will not take much of your time, and she will
still be here when you return.”

Roan expected a sharp barb at Kay’s expense, but there was
none. Instead, Gideon simply stared. “Come on,” Gideon said.

The sound of a blade spinning through the air and landing
in the sand carried up to Roan. He sighed. Perhaps stepping away would do him
good. “Very well,” Roan said. He followed Gideon out of the Hourglass.

Outside, the air had grown cooler in the last few weeks.
Fallen leaves lining the grounds blew about their feet as they walked. Neither
spoke as Gideon led the way toward the Reliquary. Most students were hard at
training. Roan did not bother to ask Gideon why he wasn’t. It had become clear
Gideon and the rest of the so-called Royals enjoyed a degree of independence
other students did not.

Gideon pushed open the Reliquary’s heavy doors and, almost
immediately, the air seemed alive with power.

Most of the day, Roan worked hard to keep his newfound
power firmly on the other side of the veil. It was easier for Kay that way.
This was the first time since piercing the veil that he stood before Baheyer’s
statue. Now, it was almost impossible to keep the surging force locked away.
Roan felt it in his fingertips and at the ends of his eyelashes, akin to the
feeling before a summer storm brought lightning down upon the mountainside.

Gideon stood to the side and slowly crossed his arms over
his chest. “Test the edge,” he said simply. “Let the blade draw your blood.”

“What?” Roan asked incredulously.

“Let Baheyer’s blade know you. Let it taste your blood.”

Gideon strode forward and extended his hand. As he moved it
along the blade, Roan watched a drop of blood well from a cut. As the blood
rolled down the blade, the surrounding air seemed to hum and pulse. Gideon
turned toward Roan and waited.

Roan stared and Gideon stared back, unmoving in his
resolve. Roan looked to the massive blade, five times his own height. His eyes
roamed the surface, taking in every pit and jagged burr. Baheyer had been
Roan’s favorite in the old stories. Those stories formed him, shaped him. With
a hesitant hand, Roan reached toward the blade and then with a final decisive
act, he put his hand upon the blade’s surface and felt the edge pierce his
skin.

The steel rang like a bell, clear and loud. Roan felt it in
his teeth and his chest, where it bounced off his heart. The power stole his
breath as it surged. Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the power went
silent.

Roan fell to his knees. He looked up in confusion to see
Gideon smiling and offering a hand. Slowly, Roan rose.

“It is a rare gift,” Gideon said. “There are few, very few,
of us who can evoke a response like that. I am one. Preceptor Pamalia can. The
past champions who took the Grand Tournament for Faith have all been able to do
it.”

Saying nothing, Roan stared at the legendary blade.

Slowly, Gideon spoke. “People on the outside, even some of
the students here, they do not understand the importance of the Tournament. For
them, it is a diversion. An amusement. An opportunity to make wagers and see
their generation’s finest Razors compete.”

“Then what is it to you?” Roan asked.

“Destiny,” Gideon said. “It is everything. The champion of
the Tournament is made an Ascended. They are elevated to a level of peership
with the king himself. They become legends, immortalized like the First
Ascended.” He shook his head. “There are no more Ruins walking the world, Roan.
No more monsters. No more wars, either, now that the kingdom is united. The
Grand Tournament is our chance to grasp glory we will never again encounter.”

Gideon took a deep breath before continuing. “I needed you
to understand this, Roan. To understand how gifted you are. The path to the
Tournament is difficult. Before the competition itself begins, each of the
participant’s schools and classes are ranked for seeding.” His eyes gleamed.
“Two of our talent in one class would put Faith in a position of incredible
advantage.”

“You’re talking about competing in the Tournament? Isn’t
that only for Provosts? You have to be twenty summers to even enter.” Roan
laughed. “That’s six years away. That is an eternity.”

“That is a heartbeat,” Gideon said. “Six years is the blink
of eye, and in that blink, there is a lifetime of purpose to fit. Dedication
and focus, or failure. The tension between those things is what fills every breath
of every moment.” Gideon took another deep breath. “That is what it means to
truly be a Razor, Roan.”

At that passionate response, Roan nodded. For Gideon, and
for all the students at Faith, there was dedication Roan had not seen. He had
been too focused on Kay to see much of anything.

“She isn’t going to make it, Roan.” Gideon said. “I’m
sorry, but it takes much more than just desire. The Razor’s path is not for
everyone.”

Anger bubbled inside Roan. “Not for everybody, unless they
have a noble birth and the resources of a rich family to get the tutors and
training.”

Gideon shook his head. “You think I’m nobility because I
lead the Royals? My father was a blacksmith. A mediocre craftsman, but an
accomplished drinker. He used to spend more time beating me than he did beating
anything at the forge. The entire village was terrified of him. The day I
pierced the veil is the day I made sure he never hurt anyone ever again.”

Gideon looked up at the statue’s face. “That is what you
don’t get, Roan. What you can do, what you can become, because of this place.”
His voice grew low and intense. “I don’t know about you, but I know where I
came from. And I am never, never going back.”

Roan was speechless. He felt the pull of it. The desire for
it. The chance to make a life for himself beyond what he had even allowed
himself to dream of. There was so much about Gideon’s story that seemed a
mirror to his own life. Until he had met Kay and the other orphans and been
welcomed into their makeshift family. They had given him a real life when
everything else had been lost to him.

And in the end, that was all that mattered. There was no
life for Roan if Kay could not be part of it.

“I can’t stay here,” Roan said, nearly choking on the
words. “Not without Kay. If she doesn’t make it here, she will have nowhere to
go. There is nothing left for her.”

“Sometimes having nothing is what it take to rise.”

“And what if she can’t? What if it breaks her instead?”

“Then it breaks her,” Gideon said, his words echoing about
the space.

“I won’t let that happen,” Roan said, then turned and
walked away from Gideon and Great Baheyer.

As Roan exited, he heard Gideon’s parting words. “Why don’t
you understand? You don’t have a choice.”

During her first days at Faith, the morning could not
come soon enough for Kay. Each day had been alive with wonder and possibility,
but that had been over three weeks ago. Now, every morning, Kay woke to
frantic, grinding despair.

At first, it seemed she and Roan had found a place they
belonged, a true home. Now, under the weight her continual failures, there was
only uncertainty and fear.

She focused on Roan across the dueling ring. He had done
this a hundred times already, trying to guide her. “Kay, focus. You’re gripping
too tightly. You want to—”

Kay cut him off with a wild swing, the blade whistling
through the air. He took a nonchalant step backward, avoiding the strike. The
swing threw her off balance and she fell.

“Relax,” Roan finished with a frown.

Kay scrambled up, but her feet slid on the dirt floor,
robbing her grace. She launched herself at Roan. This time, he blocked with the
flat of his blade. She swung again and again, chopping through the air, but he
deflected her easily, never attempting an attack.

Kay gritted her teeth. “Fight back,” she hissed.

Roan continued to block her wild swings.

“Fight back!” she yelled before charging. Roan sidestepped
and Kay tumbled by. Back on the ground, her chest heaved as she fought for air.
“Why won’t you fight back?” she snapped. “How am I going to learn how to do
this if you won’t help me?” Kay immediately regretted the words.

Roan dropped his sword as a weighty frown formed on his
face. There was an expression on his face of such profound sadness it stabbed
at Kay’s heart. “I’m—I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head.

The defeat in his words brought tears to Kay’s eyes.

Roan offered a hand, but Kay shook her head. “Just leave me
alone,” she muttered.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Roan’s hand fall back
to his side.

Kay drew a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m sorry, Roan. It’s
not your fault. It’s just—” her voice cracked, and she fought hard to exert
control. “Preceptor Vullohn was pretty tough on me today. Just… I’ll be okay.
Just give me a few minutes, alright?”

Roan took a long moment before acquiescing. “Okay,” he
said, retrieving his practice sword and heading out.

As soon as he was gone, Kay shattered. Balling her fists,
she pounded them continually against the dirt as her body was wracked with
sobs.

She had tried everything. She had made promises, sworn
oaths, recited prayers, and sat vigils. She had spent half her nights reading
of past Razors and the other half fighting at Ascension with Razors-to-be. She
had tried peace, harmony, passion, and rage. All of it, every single thing she
had done, had brought the same result.

Nothing.

As she sat on the dirt floor, eyes burning with tears, Kay
finally began to accept what she had been denying so vehemently over the last
few weeks. She couldn’t do it. She could not pierce the veil. There were a few
days left, but it did not matter. A week, or a month, or a year, she could not
do it.

She realized in that moment that she had committed an
unforgivable sin. Orphans were not supposed to hope. To dream. They had little,
but that had always been enough because it had to be. But she had made the
mistake. She had wanted something, and now she would pay the consequences. But
not her alone.

She was failing. But worse, she knew her failure would doom
Roan as well. Just the thought made her moan out loud through her tears. With
utter certainty, she knew that when she failed, he would leave with her. And it
was that thought, more than anything else, which made her failure so
unbearable.

Kay rose slowly, drying her eyes as she returned her
practice sword to the rack. She left the building, crossing the grounds to the
main hall.

She mounted the stairs to one of the main towers, climbing
until her legs burned. At the highest point, she exited onto the tower
platform.

Roan was sitting on the edge of the stone platform, as she
had known he would be. Beyond him, she saw the entire district, proud buildings
and defining statues rising high in the distance. All were draped in the orange
light of the setting sun.

“It’s so beautiful here,” Kay said softly as she sat beside
Roan, letting her legs dangle off the side. She rested her head on his
shoulder. “I’m not going to make it, am I?” she asked. As soon as the words
were out, she felt the tears.

“There are a lot of beautiful places in the kingdom,” Roan
whispered.

The tears rolled down her cheeks. “Not like this,” she
said.

Roan’s arm wrapped around her, supporting her as she cried.
“There’s still time,” he said.

Kay shook her head and looked him in the face as she drew a
deep steadying breath. “It’s okay,” she said while tightly gripping his hand.
“Listen, Roan. You have to promise me something. When my time is up and I don’t
make it, you have to stay here.”

He was shaking his head before the words were fully spoken.
“You can still make it,” he said.

Kay squeezed his hand and repeated her words. “When I don’t
make it, you have to promise me.”

“There’s still a few days—”

“Stop,” she snapped. “Stop it.” She nodded slowly. “After
all the stories we heard growing up from Elinor in the orphanage. After all the
dreaming, after everything, this was never meant to be for me.” Kay tried to
meet his eyes, but Roan evaded her. “I have to accept that. But you, you
finally have something truly special. I know you have been hiding what you can
really do. I know. Everyone knows. You’ve got something special and this
place,” she said, gesturing at the expanse before them, “Faith is your home.
This is where you belong. You know that. If I cost you that, I would never be
able to forgive myself.” Kay looked to pained face. “So promise me, okay?”

Roan looked before shaking his head sharply, almost
violently. “No.”

“Roan.”

“No.”

“Roan!”

“No!” he roared as he jumped to his feet. After pacing
across the flat, he turned to her. Fierce devotion was written across his body:
set shoulders, rigid arms, and solid stance. “I came here for you. To repay you
and the others. To help you. To give you what you gave me, years ago when you
all took me in: a new life.” Roan shook his head. “It’s not you that’s failed,
Kay. It’s me. I’m sorry. I wish I could change things, but I can’t.” He closed
his eyes and clenched his fists. “I wish I could give you what I have, but I
can’t.” When he opened his eyes, they were wet with tears. “But I will not,” he
said, the last word nearly shouted. “I will not stay here knowing you cannot. And
I will never accept a place that does not accept you. Never.”

Kay jumped to her feet and embraced him. “I’m sorry,” she
said. “I’m sorry.”

They sat down, holding each other.

They held each other as the bells tolled the end of the
day, while underclassmen flooded into the district to construct Ascension
against the backdrop of the setting sun. For the first time since they arrived,
neither Kay nor Roan made a move to go join the night battles.

As they sat together, watching the fights below, Kay felt
the knot in her stomach begin to clear. She knew without a doubt what she had
to do.

Before her time was up, she had to leave Faith and Roan
behind.

Preceptor Pamalia would help her; she would convince Roan
to stay. When the preceptor did, Kay would need to be gone already. She knew
that much.

This life wasn’t meant for her, but it was for Roan. This
was where he belonged. And even without him by her side, she knew she would be
happy knowing he was here.

Kay smiled and, for the first time in weeks, her heart was light.
She held Roan tightly as they watched distant duels late into the night.