Ethan Wright and the Curse of Silence (12 page)

“Don’t judge me, boy. It was hard times back then — didn’t sell anything for months … had to take a chance.”

“Well then, tell us about this pinch-shackle. What kind of creature was the man going to use it for? What does this symbol mean?” insisted Availia.

“You already know what it was being used for, otherwise you wouldn’t be here … werewolf,” answered the man. “I told him it wouldn’t be easy, it probly wouldn’t work, unless …”

“Unless what?” asked Ethan.

“Unless he was an alchemist … a darn good one too,” he continued. “That symbol has certain alchemical properties. The trick is to use something else, like a ring or necklace, with the same symbol and alchemical properties. Then,
maybe
, you can get some type of control over a creature such as that — but still, not likely.”

“So you made him some type of ring then?” asked Auren.

“Of course not! I gave him the recipe to make his own — not in the business of making jewelry. Besides … this way I’m not liable. I only sell the shackle — just the shackle. By itself, the thing may as well be a dog collar.”

***

Ethan was getting tired. Stanley had taken them to nearly every armor shop in the city. Most were out of affordable armor, while others had inexpensive armor that simply would not fit. As evening descended, they approached the last armor shop in the city, only to find another sign on the front window stating it was ‘Sold Out.’

“With everyone trying to get into the Guard, we’ll never find armor,” sighed Auren. “You’d think we could find
something
! Used, dumpy old armor …
anything
!” Auren plopped down in front of the sold-out armor shop and slumped his head down. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed again.

“You do know that we only need to be in the Guard to get access to the records department, right?” asked Ethan as he looked down at Auren.

“Well, yeah …of course I know that.”

“It’s just, you seem to be taking this a bit serious — don’t ya think?”

Auren raised his head. “Well, maybe. Just wanna have another chance to best Marcus is all. He’s such an idiot. But besides that, I’m excited to see what number I’ll get picked … you know, in the lottery.”

“Yeah, I do know. We won’t need armor to find that out,” answered Ethan.

“But you do need it for the first day of class,” reminded Availia.

“It’s not even that. Just the thought of getting my own armor, going to classes, learning how to fight — being a part of something, ya know? I don’t think being in the Guard would be so bad — as long as Marcus wasn’t there, that is.” Auren stood up. “I bet I get picked in the top ten. A big guy like me, had a fair showing in the youth sword competition — I’m bound to get …”

“You were out in the third round,” reminded Availia.

“Isn’t that good?” argued Auren.

“Not really, no.”

“But I lost to the winner.”

“So did I.”

“But I made it one round further than …”

This annoyed Ethan. “You guys, I don’t think this is gonna get us closer to getting some armor, maybe if we …”

Just then a loud bell echoed throughout the city.

“What was that?”

“Nghhh nghhh ngh … the, nghhh … results,” stuttered Stanley.

“
Results?
” asked Ethan. “Oh! The results of the Electus have been posted?”

Stanley nodded and motioned for them to follow. The four made their way through the market district and toward the orientation building. There were hundreds of would-be students standing on the cobblestone, surrounding a large board on the side of the building. Auren tried forcing his way through the crowd, but every time he pushed his way forward, someone would budge back in front of him. He started to make his way back to his friends when a small commotion broke out at the opposite side.

“Clear the way — now!” yelled Marcus. A small path opened, allowing him to approach the board. He walked through the crowd, bumping shoulders with anyone who was slightly in his way. He looked up at the board for a moment, turned, and smiled. “I was selected number one, by none other than Heinrich himself,” said Marcus in a cocky voice. As he strode back through the crowd, he noticed the four waiting to get a look at the board.

“You won’t see your names up there!” he taunted. “I had you removed from the Electus … all of you!”

Just then two figures emerged from the orientation building. The first one pushed the door so hard it nearly came off its hinges; it was Heinrich. The second figure Ethan didn’t recognize. He was an older man, a bit portly, and had small spectacles tucked in the front pocket of his white dress shirt. He was wearing a black jacket that hung nearly to the ground.

“Not exactly!” proclaimed the portly man as he approached Ethan and companions. “You must be Ethan Wright.”

“Yeah,” answered Ethan.

“My name is Edison Rupert. I will be your professor.”

Heinrich forced his way through the crowd, bumping shoulders with Edison as he passed.

“Marcus! Grab the others and get to quarters, now!” spat Heinrich, in an obvious outrage. Marcus checked the board, grabbed the three other selections made by Heinrich and followed him down the street toward the spire.

“I am afraid things didn’t exactly go according to Heinrich’s plan,” stated Edison, his wrinkled cheeks glowing from the chilled evening air. He leaned forward and shook hands with Ethan. “It is my absolute pleasure to finally meet you, Ethan.”

“You too … what didn’t go according to plan?”

“Oh, Heinrich withdrew your names from contention in the Electus,” answered Edison. “I
was
number twenty-six, you see.”

“Twenty-six!” yelled Auren. “That means I was selected twenty-sixth overall, that’s … that’s fantastic!”

Edison leaned over to Auren, whose face was now alight with admiration over the professor’s last comment. “Auren Faryndon, is it? I, ahh … picked you second,” revealed Edison.

“So … fifty-second?”

“No, my boy, twenty-seventh if you must know. I get the last choice in the first round, but the first choice in the second round, and so forth. But order was not important in this case.” Edison grabbed the spectacles out of his front pocket and wiped the lenses. He placed them on his face so they straddled the tip of his nose, in order to get a better look at Ethan.

“So if Heinrich removed us from contention, how were you able to pick us at all?” inquired Ethan.

“And, I thought there were only twenty-five teachers in the Electus, not twenty-six,” added Availia.

“Ah yes. Availia, youngest sister in the Tanbe family. I felt absolutely thrilled to get you in the third round. If your name hadn’t been removed from the list, you would have placed midway in the first round for certain!”

“Sir, how is it we got in the Guard?” asked Ethan again.

“My boy … you’re not in the Guard. What a waste of talent that would have been!” exclaimed Edison, while pushing his spectacles all the way up his nose, removing them and then placing them back in his front pocket.

“What?” asked Ethan.

“I came out of retirement as the twenty-sixth member of the Electus to reopen the school of alchemy. You’re going to be an alchemist.”

“WHAT?” yelled Auren. “You mean, like
Wegnel
?”

“Well maybe not
that
good, we will see though, you know … no promises,” answered Edison, smiling.

“So a retired alchemist professor is going to teach us …
what
exactly?” asked Availia. “I have trained with a sword for the past six years.”

“Oh, swords are most useful, and it was more like an extended sabbatical than official retirement, it should be fun really, don’t you think?”

“Yeah … fun,” answered Auren, sighing again.

“Well, it will be for me anyhow. Let’s see. I picked the twin brother of the most famous hero in the land, the son of Ghislain the mighty, and the younger sister to one of the best strategists and swordsmen … or should I say swords
women
that this city has ever seen!”

“But that’s only three, don’t the rules say that you need four?” asked Auren.

“You certainly know your stuff, Auren. I was particularly proud of my fourth selection; it took countless nights of research. I like to think of it as sort of a long shot. And it works out perfectly because he was in the school of alchemy before it closed down, he can’t die, and he is standing right beside you — so I don’t have to go looking for him … see … perfect!”

“Stanley?” asked Auren.

“I know, Auren, you may be thinking about the rules again, but I checked into it. Since he was put into this half-dead stasis, he technically hasn’t aged a day, and therefore, isn’t too old to join, it’s simply perfect!” exclaimed Edison, clenching his hands together with a grin. “I think the only thing better than my four most perfect selections is Heinrich being angry about it!”

“And why would he get angry about it?” asked Ethan.

“Probably because he didn’t get his way, or that you will not be under the jurisdiction of the Guard — who knows for sure,” he answered as he motioned for his students to follow him. “Now then, it will get dark soon; we have to arrange for quarters. Since I just got here, and most everything was taken, we will have to settle for the school itself, at least for now.”

As the five of them walked toward the school, Availia leaned in toward Auren. “At least you don’t need to find armor now,” she teased.

“Funny,” replied Auren.

“So, where is the school anyways?” asked Ethan as they walked.

“Well, it is right up the street actually. Right around the corner up ahead … big stone building — oldest in the city, you can’t miss it. Sort of an amazing story really. This building has withstood centuries of war, been under bombardment and even internal ridicule of practices contained within its doors. In fact, this school was one of the few buildings that existed before Tirguard itself existed … before mankind even discovered the Oroborus. It has withstood all of that, and here it is waiting for us to walk through its doors,” he said as they approached a stone overhang affixed to the large building. Under the overhang there was a large door, also made of stone. Edison put his hand on the door, gave a slight push, and walked right through.

“
What?
” exclaimed Ethan.

“Where did he go?!” asked Auren.

“He just … walked
through
the door,” stuttered Availia.

“Stanley soundly submits severing stone,” said Stanley as he followed the professor through the door.

Ethan put his hand to the door and pushed, followed by Availia, and then Auren — but nothing happened. Auren continued to push on the door, trying to force it open, but it did not move.

“What just happened?” asked Ethan.

“Dunno,” answered Auren.

Then Edison’s head came through the door. “Did I mention that you have to be an alchemist to enter?” The large stone door swallowed Edison’s chubby, wrinkled face. The remaining three looked as if they had seen a ghost as they continued to examine the door. Edison stepped through and startled all three again. This time he was carrying two sleeping bags, which he tossed on the ground. He reached through the door and pulled Stanley, who was also carrying two sleeping bags, back outside.

“Training starts tomorrow, you will all do it together as a team,” announced Edison. “Night!”

“Ah … wait!” said Ethan. But it was too late; Edison had vanished through the door. Ethan turned to Stanley. “Stanley, how did
you
get through the door?”

“Ngghhh, ngghhh, sttt … Sanctuary … Stone Sanctuary,” he answered.

“What’s the Stone Sanctuary?” asked Availia.

“Ngghh ngghhh, difficult … nghhh ttttt, nghhhh … to … explain,” he stuttered.

“It seems we have all night, Stanley,” replied Ethan. The four unrolled their sleeping bags on the cold ground underneath the overhang of the old stone building. Ethan and Availia listened to Stanley’s explanation as Auren grew bored and went to sleep. Not entirely satisfied with the information obtained, Ethan and Availia soon followed, as did Stanley.

Chapter 13
On Sabbatical

“The Stone Sanctuary is where an alchemist of Tirguard is born. Just as you use your sword …” Edison looked over to Availia, “or your strength …” he peered at Auren, “your determination …” he placed his hand on Ethan’s shoulder, “or your resourcefulness …” he nodded to Stanley, “you will use, combine, and protect yourself with all the options that alchemy has to offer. It will become a part of you, an extension of your body, infused in your mind, and course through the very fabric of your nerves,” said Edison as he picked up a set of black jackets, much like his own, and handed them out. “And it all starts with these.”

“Jackets?” asked Auren incredulously.

“Armor,” corrected Edison.

Ethan examined the garment. It was coarse and hard in some areas, and less restrictive in others where movement might be a necessity. It had a particularly tall collar that he felt would cover his chin if buttoned all the way up. There were small metal fasteners that would clasp the front of the jacket closed. The back had a single thick grey bar that ran vertically down the center.

“This is armor?” asked Availia. “But my own armor is …”

“More restrictive? Heavy? Unable to conceal a weapon, tool of surprise, or method of escape?”

“Well yeah, but
this
can’t take a direct hit from a sword,” argued Availia.

“Then draw your sword, Availia, and we shall put your theory to practice,” said Edison.

“But … isn’t there another way to demonstrate?”

“Unfortunately not. And as your instructor, I realize I have not yet earned your respect or trust — now is as good a time as any.” Edison fastened the top clasp of his alchemy jacket. The hardware sank down in the fabric, locking into place. The rest of the clasps fastened, one by one, down the length of the garment without the assistance of Edison. Each fastener was absorbed into the fabric, to look like small metal bars that held the front seam of the jacket together.