Chapter 2.2: The Pull

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"He's in his office," the dark-haired boy said, moving so fast that Sabin had to jog to keep up. The giant tapestries that lined the wall could rival those of Castle Acadia. Each illustrated a man or woman, in stylized poses as if they were heroes of legend. Most were Durains and unfamiliar to Sabin's study. One tapestry Sabin recognized was of Resa, the author of Tactics. It was Sabin's favorite book and he had a well-worn copy in his pack.

Resa stood upright and strong, his deep black hair in a soldier's knot and his long beard draping over his chest. In one hand he held a katana and another a pen. He was part warrior, part scholar and exactly what Sabin aimed to be – an Acadian commoner turned general.

Sabin kept moving forward, his head bobbing from left to right in an effort to absorb them all, but he knew that most he would forget by the end of the day. There were too many.

The next one that stood out was that of a Yuan woman, a spear in each hand. She seemed familiar too, though in a way his mind would not connect. He eventually relented, guessing that she was a minor figure from one of the Yuan history books he had read over the years.

He stopped completely in front of a third tapestry, that of a man, double-bladed axe in hand and shadow bending around him. He stared at the man's thick frame, and his bushy mustache and eyebrows. After a few moments he felt a tugging on his arm and he was brought back to the present.

"The master doesn't like to wait," the little boy said finally. Sabin allowed himself to be pulled forward.

If I didn't know any better, I'd swear that was father.

As they entered the study, Sabin looked around, noting the thick volumes that rose to the ceiling and the ladders pushed to the sides. A Durain man sat behind the desk chatting with two men on the opposite side. When his eyes fell on Sabin, he ignored them and stood. The men turned in response and shot looks of annoyance in Sabin's direction.

He must be Darren.

The messenger motioned for Sabin to wait in place, before jogging to his master and handing him the letter. The boy stood silently as Darren's eyes skimmed the page.

Darren smiled and waved Sabin inside. "Welcome." He then turned his attention to his other guests. "I apologize for ending our meeting so abruptly. Taka will see you out. Please excuse us."

The little boy gathered the men and led them on their way. One of them mumbled something about uppity Yuans on the way out. Sabin was used to ignoring such things.

Darren waited before speaking. His expression was one of recognition, which made Sabin uncomfortable. The first words that left his mouth only increased the awkwardness.

"I didn't expect you so soon."

I guess my father has planned this for some time. "My father told me that you would help me finance the military exam."

"Military exam?" Darren said. His brow furrowed. "So that's how it presented in you." Darren nodded his head. "That means Aegis did his part and did not tell you anything."

"Tell me what?"

Darren smiled, revealing a row of bright, white teeth. "Where do I start? Your father, Aegis, was one of the Seriens."

Sabin's hand instinctually went to his side, but as it met nothing he remembered that he'd left his sword at the inn to not appear threatening. That is another mistake I will not repeat.

"You're not serious right? The Seriens are a fairy tale told to children to make them do the right thing and make "Incompletes" feel guilty. 'When the world is in trouble, the Seriens appear to save it. They each wield a secret power. They fight for truth and justice in the world, defending us from the evil of the Guan and any others who would place it into chaos. On the battlefield they are invincible and no evil can stand against them.' Sums it up, right? Useless garbage. Even the Seriens exist, why haven't they shown themselves in Acadia?"

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