“…then you snuck out of the house so you didn’t have to face Milly?” Gauto roared with laughter, slapping Hiral on the back. “Why are you so afraid of your sister?”
Hiral glared at his best friend, though maybe best and friend were both overstatements at the moment, and ground his teeth. “You know very well why I didn’t want to talk to her. Do you remember what she did the third year when I didn’t pass? Six years old, and she marched over and challenged one of the presiding Shapers to a match in the Amphitheatre of the Sun!”
“Yeah, I remember that. Didn’t you end up having to take her place?” Gauto asked.
Hiral scowled at the memory of stepping into the Amphitheatre against a full Shaper. A master, B-RankShaper, no less. Right after his third failure, to boot. Embarrassing was an understatement. “Yes, and… it …didn’t go well…” Hiral snarled enough that a couple walking past him did a double take. Actually, didn’t go well was also an understatement; he’d gotten beaten so badly, the Shaper wouldn’t have even gotten class experience for it.
“So? That was years ago…”
“She’s done it three more times since then. Thinks it’s funny,” Hiral deadpanned.
“Last year was kind of entertaining,” Gauto said, his fingers stroking the patchy scruff on his chin. Having a full, sagely beard to fit his new job at the Academy just wasn’t in the cards for him. “Venix chased you around the arena for a good fifteen minutes. If you’d had your Meridian Lines strengthening you, you would’ve wiped the floor with him. Still, the fact you have more dexterity than he does—and he’s C-Rank—is kind of impressive.”
Hiral glanced down at the back of his hand, though the glove and sleeve hid his tattoos from sight. Those, along with the hooded coat he wore, were generally enough to keep people from recognizing him on the street. “Without the lines to harden and strengthen me like the full Shapers have, staying out of the way is the best I can do. Most of them put all their points into strength and endurance, so they’re pretty slow.”
“Well, if you ask me, it did make for a more entertaining match than most of the ones we get. Those Shapers tend to just stand there and take turns hitting each other. First one to fall loses.”
“Like I said, strength and endurance,” Hiral said. “When your skin is practically indestructible and you have the strength of almost twenty average people, it does kind of make you cocky. On the other hand… Shapers who avoid getting hit are seen as cowards…”Gauto glanced at Hiral, but didn’t say anything. The implication was obvious.
Hiral, for his part, forced himself to look around. Anything to take his mind off the test. Like always, the day was beautiful, the sun directly above the city, and people crowded the streets. Midway between the Academy where Gauto worked and the port where Hiral was headed, small stalls of goods lined the streets.
They offered baked goods that made Hiral’s mouth water, small toys for children, quills brought up from the Nomads for the Artists—though a quick glance showed their low quality—and a dozen other things. If he couldn’t find what he was looking for in the port when he came back from work, he’d definitely be able to find something for Nat’s celebration in the warren of shops.
“When you come back up from your business with Arty, why don’t you come by the Academy?” Gauto asked, finally breaking the silence. “Lika and Professor Itone would love to see you. The professor asks me at least once a week if I’ve been able to convince you to join us. He says you’d make a fantastic Academic.”
“What did you tell him?” Hiral asked.
“That I’d be thrilled if you joined!” Gauto chuckled. “You’ve got the head for it, Hiral. Your attributes are way above average, even compared to somebody who has a class. I don’t know why you’d ever want to be a Shaper.”
“You took the test too,” Hiral pointed out. “Three times.”
“And that’s when I learned where my true calling was. Turned my attention to academia, and I’ve never been happier.”
“Or chubbier,” Hiral said, gently elbowing Gauto in his soft side.
“We can’t all be toned perfection like you,” Gauto said, eying Hiral up and down. “Though nobody would ever know, with all the layers you wear.”
“Stops people from noticing me,” Hiral said, though he’d told his friend that more than once, and pulled his hood lower around his face. Like always, the day was warm under the constant sunlight, but at least he wasn’t the only one in the street dressed like that.
“The only benefit I can see from all the work you do to join the Shapers is how much the ladies would appreciate your toned body under their fingers.”
“Not going to happen,” Hiral said, forcing the smile back on his face. “Most girls won’t even talk to me once they realize who I am, let alone touch me. They think my inability to shape is contagious.”
“You’re harder on yourself than anybody else is,” Gauto said.
“Maybe. Anyway, back to your original point, I’m not ready to join the Academy yet,” he said, choking off his own words. Yet? Yet!? Was he really considering a future that didn’t involve the Shapers? No, it was just the depression after the latest failure. He’d get it next year.
… Which was the same thing he’d told himself last year…
No, he only had one chance at a class, and he needed to pass the Shaper test to get the one he wanted.
“You have the stats for it,” Gauto said. “You enjoy the puzzle of figuring things out. I mean, come on, you love testing more than I do. You remember that time we tested how much we could magnify sunlight before it burned even a Shaper’s body?”
“We were twelve, Gauto. And the result was us getting chased by said Shaper halfway across the city.” Hiral chuckled. Why am I always getting chased by Shapers…?
“Yeah, but I remember the smile on your face the whole way. Okay… something more recent, then? Last year, when we started my thesis on the strength attribute relative to the force of a punch? It should’ve been a linear relationship…”
“No, I knew it wouldn’t be,” Hiral corrected. “Rank reinforces the body in ways outside of just plain stats—I’m sure that’s where we’re seeing the change. Not to mention our natural attributes that aren’t modified by Meridian Lines; I’m sure they also factor in differently. What we need to do is…” Hiral trailed off when he saw the huge grin on his friend’s face.
“See? That’s what I mean. You’re an Academic at heart, Hiral,” Gauto said, though his voice softened.
“I admit, some of what Academics do interests me. But being a Shaper has been my dream since I was a kid.”
“So you can fight in the Amphitheatre?” Gauto asked. “Sure, there’s fame there… but also head trauma.”
“Not for that, and you know it. That isn’t what Shapers are meant for. Shapers are supposed to be protectors. Explorers.”
“What are you going to protect us from up here? A sunburn. Not that we can burn with anything less than eight-times magnification.” Gauto chuckled again, obviously remembering the large magnifying glass they’d set up over the sleeping Shaper.
“I’ve got the Disc of Passage,” Hiral said. “If I could use it, I could go… anywhere. And I could take you with me. Think of what we could learn. And it’s not just that. I’ve put so much work into passing the Shaper tests. Not just me either. Loan, my dad. My sisters. You. You’ve all supported me for… so long…” He had to force the last part out.
“You think giving up would be letting us down,” Gauto said, and it wasn’t a question. “It wouldn’t be. You’re too smart to believe anything else.”
“Yeah, part of me knows that.”
“Ah. It’s not just us. It’s them,” Gauto said, reading into Hiral’s silence. “You want to prove them all wrong. The doubters.”
“I… do…” Hiral admitted, his fist clenching at his side. “Gauto, I enjoy the research with you because it’s a challenge. I like pushing myself. Testing my limits. I’ve trained with Master Loan every day for years. How to move, how to fight… for when I finally become a Shaper. I want that challenge too. I need to know how far I can go… and… this…” he said, gesturing his hands up and down himself, “…this isn’t enough.”
“I’ve seen you train,” Gauto said, a twinkle in his eye. “So, when you finally get your class, I hope you do spend a few days in the Amphitheatre. You’re going to be a terror, and that’s a show I’ll happily pay to see.”
“I’ve got a few scores to settle, don’t I?”
“I don’t think a few is usually counted in the dozens, but yeah, something like that,” Gauto said. “Anyway, at least come by and take a look at our newest discovery when you come back up?”
“What did you find?” Hiral asked, happy to move the conversation along. His friend was only looking out for him—he always had—but it was still hard to talk about.
“Some old rooms underground. Like a catacomb or something under the city,” Gauto said, the excitement of it infecting his voice.
“Rooms? Underground? How in the Fallen’s names did you get approval to dig?”
“We didn’t,” Gauto said. “Somebody was doing renovations on their home in the east end of the city. Floor gave out from the work, and they found the secret room underneath. Called us right away.”
“The floor gave out? That’s unusual… but, was the room empty?” Catacombs under the city? Amazing! How had they stayed hidden all this time?
“No,” Gauto said, his eyebrows doing a little dance up and down his forehead.
“You’re going to make me ask, aren’t you?”
“I’m going to make you come see if you want to know.”
“Not interested,” Hiral lied, but he had a lot of practice making people believe what he said, and Gauto’s eyes widened.
“Come on!”
“Nope. Busy,” Hiral said. “Some moldy old pickle jars aren’t worth the time.”
“They aren’t… pickle jars…” Gauto said, clearly insulted by the mundaneness of it. “Weapons, Hiral. Crystal weapons.”
That got Hiral’s attention, and even he couldn’t keep his true feelings off his face.
“Crystal?” Hiral asked. “Like…?” He pointed at the nearby pearly white tower, then up its height to the large crystal that sat at its top three hundred feet up. The crystal that grew brighter as Hiral watched, then suddenly went dark as if all the light inside drained out.
Wait… If the crystal did that, it meant it was…
Hiral blinked and looked at the narrow tower, barely wider than his spread arms from fingertips to fingertips, then at his friend. “That is Lusco’s Tower, isn’t it?”
Gauto looked from Hiral to the deep-red crystal at the top of the tower and back again. “Speaking of head trauma… did you hit your noggin during the test?” Gauto pointed to another barely visible tower ahead of them, its crystal glittering in the sunlight high above the buildings. “That’s Bellina’s Tower there, Lusco’s”—he gestured at the tower near them, then turned and pointed at a third, exactly three miles behind them—“and that’s Pallidis’. You know where we are now? What day it is? Do you remember the fifty chips you owe me?”
“I don’t owe you any money,” Hiral snapped, eyes glued to the tower crystal. “So, the time is…?”
“A few minutes past fifth pulse,” Gauto said.
“Fallen’s balls, I’m going to be late!” Hiral said. “I’ll drop by the Academy if I have time.”
“Make sure you do.” Gauto said as Hiral dashed off. “And not just to see the crystal weapons. I want you to double-check the numbers on another project for me. I think the island might be slowing down…”
Then he was gone, Gauto’s words lost to the noise of the market. Hiral shoved his way through the crowd. All thoughts of mysterious underground caverns and crystal weapons fled his mind as he focused entirely on weaving his way through the crowd. Sure, if he’d had Meridian Line-induced strength, he could’ve barreled through without slowing down. It was what most Shapers would’ve done.
And left a dozen broken bones and Fallen knows how many bruises behind.
Instead, his lack of a sun-powered body, his sister’s ill-thought-out challenges, and his 20 natural Dexhad taught him something, and he weaved through the constantly moving throng of people like an expert dancer.
A turn of an ankle there meant the person was about to change direction, and Hiral twisted around in perfect time with them, sweeping by so only their clothes barely touched. Another quick sidestep brought him between an arguing couple, but he was gone before the surprise even left their mouths, ducking low under an emphatic gesture, then picking up speed as he found some open ground.
Three strides brought him to a full sprint while the people ahead of him shifted forward and back into two solid lines, which could only mean…
Hiral vaulted up and over the cart as it was pushed out into the street, his legs just an inch above the carefully piled fruit, then touched down and turned for a quick apology. The small shriek of surprise from ahead was his only warning as he turned his attention around, where a small child, maybe five years old, suddenly moved in front of him.
Again, while a real Shaper probably would’ve simply gone through the child and then blamed the kid for not moving, Hiral instead kicked off his lead foot into a high cartwheel. His eyes met the child’s as he sailed over, their faces close enough their noses almost touched. Then his feet were on the ground again, and he was running off. This time, he didn’t try to turn around to apologize, and his own words were lost to the wind as he ducked behind one of the stalls and ran through the clearer space against the wall.
Several annoyed barkers shouted after him, but they paid him little heed other than that. Few people tried to steal, with Shaper justice being what it was. A left turn down a side alley, another twist around an intimate embrace, then it was clear running.
Good thing, too. If he wasn’t at the port in the next fifteen minutes, Arty might well leave without him.
That or he’d yell, and Fallen knew which was worse.
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