Message Bearer (The Auran Chronicles Book 1) (14 page)

Seb woke with a mind that felt awash with
treacle. He’d been up until well past midnight studying that damned book in the
vague hope that staring at the runes like a madman would suddenly yield an
almost mystical clarity. It had failed, and now he was tired and grumpy to
boot.

‘Ah, morning, young Seb,’
Caleb said.

Seb grunted and slumped
on the bench. He couldn’t be bothered walking to the kitchens so instead took a
banana and bread from what Caleb had left. He sat, chewing in silence.

‘You seem troubled, Seb?’
Caleb said as he sat opposite.

‘That damned book. How am
I supposed to learn anything if I can’t read?’

Caleb laughed, snorting
coffee onto the table. ‘Seb, you only got it yesterday!’

‘I know, I just wanted to
make a head start.’

‘I understand your
eagerness. But patience is key with learning the Weave, especially for one who has
lived his life ignorant of its influence. Now come with me, we have much to get
through today.’

They made their way back
into the barren room from the day before. Again they sat in the centre. The
temperature was still near freezing. Seb was shivering within seconds of
entering the room.

‘Here again?’

‘It is the ideal place.
To learn the Sentio it is best to have a total absence of all external stimuli.
As you become more adept you will be able to call upon your skills in the wider
world, but for now, here is where you will learn.’

Caleb reached into his
tunic and pulled out a palm-sized object wrapped in cloth. He held it out to
Seb.

‘Here, take this.’

Seb took the object and
took it out of the cloth. A smooth stone, a pebble really, dropped into his
hand. He turned it over. The stone was warm to the touch. He held it close to
his face. In the gloom he thought he could see some Runic Script etched along
the circumference of the stone, but he couldn’t quite make them out.

‘What is it?’

‘A training foci,’ Caleb
said. ‘It’s a device used to amplify the holder’s affinity to the Weave. We don’t
as a rule use them anymore. In the past, if not handled correctly, the result
could be…inconsistent.’

‘Then why now? With me?’

‘You remember that fast
track I told you about?’

‘I do.’

‘This is that. It will
accelerate your Weave-mastery. As we’ll be teaching you Sentio and Avatari in
parallel we -’

‘What?’

‘Had I not said?’

‘You said it’s two years
for each school, and we’d start with Sentio.’

Caleb smiled and shook
his head. ‘My mistake. We
normally
do that. No. With you we’re making an
exception.’

Seb recoiled, one eyebrow
raised.

‘Now why does that not
make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside?’

‘I like you, Seb,’ Caleb
said, ignoring the question. ‘You’ve got a sense of humour. Now. We progress.’

Objecting was obviously
pointless, and Seb dropped the stone into his pocket.

‘No, not there. Take it
out. Hold it in both hands.’

Seb obeyed, resting the
pebble in the palm of his hands.

‘In order to use the
Weave you first need to learn how to
sense
. It is the most fundamental
skill that any mage must learn on their journey. With this, you will be attuned
to the very fabric of reality. You will sense other Observers. You will feel
what they feel, think what they think. Distance has no meaning. Some even have
the ability to reach across Shards.

‘Close your eyes, Seb. In
order to connect to the Weave you must remove your mind of all clutter, all
distractions. Think of your body as a vessel. Your mind is an antenna. When it
is clear then you will be attuned to the Weave, and with it will come Sentio.’

‘Empty my mind? That
simple?’

‘Simple? Try it. See how
it goes.’

‘How will I know if it
works?’

Caleb smiled. ‘You’ll
know.’

Seb closed his eyes.
Empty his mind? How hard could that be? Think of nothing. Nothing at all. How
does someone do that, then? He conjured up a picture of black, but was that
something? It wasn’t nothing, that’s for sure. He dropped the black. He tried
to conjure up emptiness, but the harder he tried, the more images popped into
his head. Sarah. Sheol. The mansion. Cade. Nothing specific. Hell, he even
wondered fleetingly about what food he’d like for lunch, given the choice. What
the hell was wrong with him?

He opened his eyes and let
out a long sigh.

‘It’s not as
straightforward as you thought?’

‘How do you think of
nothing? Nothing is
nothing
? You can’t think of it. I tried emptying my
head but the harder I tried the more they popped in.’

‘Don’t be disappointed.
People’s minds nowadays are so wired, so tuned in to so many distractions that
they are constantly buzzing with chatter. We’ve forgotten how to be simple, how
to tune into the most basic things. Close your eyes again, and listen to my
voice.’

Seb tipped his head left
and right, loosening his muscles. He closed his eyes.

‘This time. Don’t try and
not think of anything. All I want you to focus on is your breathing. Focus on
the sensation as you draw in breathe. How does it feel to expel the air? Listen
to the sound of your breathing. Focus on this, and nothing else.’

And so he did. He
breathed in through his nose, noting the coolness as the air rushed in through
his nostrils. He felt the fullness of his chest as the air was drawn in. His
lips cooled as he exhaled. He did it again. And again.

Sarah. Dying on the
floor.

‘Shit!’

His eyes shot open. Caleb
stared back at him, half of his face covered in shadow.

‘It’s no good, I can’t do
it!’

‘Don’t feel bad if
something comes into your mind. It is normal. And expected. Allow it to happen.
Accept the thought. Dismiss it, and then try again.’

‘But -’

‘Close your eyes.’

Protesting was futile.
Caleb’s tone didn’t leave any room for compromise. He closed his eyes.

The calmness came quicker
this time. The sensation of breathing amplified in his mind. His whole being
simply focused on the action of drawing and expelling breath. He found a
rhythm, a warming calm seeping into his limbs.

Sarah appeared again.
Broken. Bloody.

He dismissed it. The
image flickered into nothing.

The sensation returned.
Quicker. The calm descended like a blanket. Other images came but they danced
at the periphery of his awareness. They faded without acknowledgement.

Something flared in the
darkness. A warmness grew in his hands. From all around came the sound of
thunder, but low, grumbling, as if far, far away. His heart began to thud, the new
sensation causing the alien experience to vanish in an instant.

Focus. Breath.

His heart slowed. The
beating faded away. The sensation returned, waves of
something
that
lapped over him with each breath.

A flare. A rumble. A
bright light seared the darkness. It grew before him, filling the void, a rip
of white, tearing wider with every breath. The light exploded filling his
entire field of vision.

His
sense
erupted
outwards in a wave. He didn’t see anything, just the whiteness that filled his
mind. Yet at the same time he felt others, other minds, all in this same plane
of energy. He touched them, picking up nothing aside from the fact that they
were
there
. Their minds bounced back. Phantom echoes. Observers
enforcing the Consensus. Then the light fragmented, and he was thrown back into
his body like an elastic band snapping.

Seb opened his eyes. The
foci glowed blue in his hands, the warmness fading now. He glanced up. Caleb
had gone and the brazier had burned low, just faint embers glowing in the
gloom.

Where the hell was Caleb?
He looked down at his watch, the face luminescing with a faint azure.

Five hours had passed.

The sheol staggered down the narrow
alleyway. It growled as it moved, bouncing from wall to wall, cursing in its
own guttural drawl, yet still repeating the same movements.

Cade sat on a park bench.
His hood was up, his head tilted down. His hands stuck in his pockets. The
sheol drew nearer. He didn’t look. He didn’t need to.

The sheol entered the
small park that served as a small oasis of green in the city. It stopped at the
exit of the alleyway, sniffing the air like some kind of animal.

Come on. Come on.

Satisfied the way was
clear, the sheol - in the form of a young woman - drifted into the park. It
collided with a tree in its path and fell flat on the ground. Obviously a new
born.

The sheol rolled onto its
knees just as two young men entered the park from another alley. They clocked
the woman immediately. Egging each other on, they approached, the sheol
oblivious to their presence.

Shit. He didn’t need
this. Cade rose from the bench and strode towards the men. They froze as he
appeared from the shadows, taking a step back before quickly recovering their
courage.

‘What the fuck do you
want?’ The larger of the two said. Bravery fuelled by alcohol spurred him on,
and he took a step closer.

‘Leave here. This woman
isn’t for you.’

The man glanced over his
shoulder. The sheol was halfway across the park now, zigzagging across the
lawn, soaking its legs in mud.

‘Oh, I don’t know, she
looks fair game to me,’ he said with a knowing smirk. The man made as if to
move past him. Cade gripped his arm, stopping him dead.

‘Leave here. Now.’

It all happened too
quickly. He
sensed
a change behind him. The sheol abruptly turned, her
attention drawn toward them. To him. She raced across the park, no longer did
she have the gait of a new born deer. Her movements were smooth, agile.
Dagger-teeth glinted as she leapt onto the path, yards from where they stood.

‘Get out of here, now!’
Cade said, moving in front of the two men.

They didn’t move. The
woman drew nearer. Three seconds, tops.

‘Didn’t you hear me? I
said -’

He dared a look behind
him. His heart sank. The men were still there, unmoving. They’d taken a step
apart. One held a knife, the other a pistol.

What the?

Purely on instinct Cade
lashed out with his foot just as the pistol discharged. Pain exploded in his
shoulder as his foot connected, sending the pistol flying high and wide into
the grass.

The sheol barrelled into
the back of him. The wind blasted from his lungs as he fell forwards, the fire
in his shoulder swelling in intensity. Fortunately the sheol had built up such
pace that her momentum carried her straight over her fallen foe. She tumbled
over and over, crashing into an unused wishing well.

Cade vaulted to his feet.
He pushed the throbbing pain to one side, boxing it away in his mind. He faced
off against the other man, who strangely was still a man, not possessed. He
barely had time to process this revelation before the man lunged, aiming a
clumsy strike at Cade’s neck. Cade caught the man by the wrist and hammered it
with his other free hand. A bone broke and the man dropped to his knees,
screaming. Cade drove his knee into the man’s face, silencing him instantly.

The sheol was already up.
She attacked again, attempting the same direct charge as before. Prepared this
time, Cade hurled a silver throwing star that lodged in her throat with a wet
thunk
.
She slid to a halt by his feet, gurgling on her own blood, the transformation
back to human as the sheol left her body almost immediate.

‘Looking for something?’

The other man, who had
until that moment been flailing in the bushes looking for the lost pistol,
looked up. He saw the weapon in Cade’s hand. The warrior had it by the barrel
end, the handle facing towards the man.

‘Go on, take it, if you
can.’

The man screamed and
launched himself forwards. Cade reversed his grip on the pistol, side-stepping
the clumsy lunge and cracking the handle down on the man’s head. The fight snapped
out of him. Cade didn’t stop there. He gripped the man by the collar and lifted
him to his feet. He shoved him against a wall, inches off the ground.

‘Who are you? Why are you
working with the sheol?’

The man’s head lolled on
his shoulders. His eyes looked everywhere but at Cade.

‘Tell me!’ Cade roared,
pulling him back and then smashing him against the wall. The movement knocked
some sense back into the man. He looked down at Cade. A smile broke on his
face.

‘You cannot win,’ the man
said.

With that, the man bit
down on something. Immediately he began to convulse. Foam bubbled from his
mouth and his eyes rolled back in his head. Cade let go and stepped away. The
man shook for a few seconds before falling silent.

‘What the hell are you?’

Cade knelt next to the
dead man. His
sense
revealed nothing. The man wasn’t Aware at all, yet
why was he working with the sheol? Cade checked his pockets, finding nothing.
He rolled him onto his back. The man’s head tipped back, face frozen in a
rictus of death, and it was then that Cade saw the mark.

What the hell?

He knew some words and
runes of Aura, but this was a complete unknown. It was marked in red ink,
etched into the side of the man’s neck. He took a photo on his phone and slid
it away. This was one for the Lore Keepers.

Cade’s
sense
flared.
He spun about, hand instinctively reaching for the hand crossbow strapped to
his thigh.

That figure again. The
same one from the park when he’d rescued Seb. It was stood on the roof of an
old supermarket on the opposite side of the square, silhouetted against the
moon. As he watched, the figure turned and leapt off the building, vanishing
from sight.