The Paradise Gate

Ch. 10 Wrath Most Dangerous Is That Concealed

Gem dropped Dalli and Lycinder in front of the main gates the Academy of Na'Roscalen. Their masterful ironwork depicted the figures of the High Seraphs, one on each side, smiling benevolently with their great wings extended above the earth as if to shelter mankind. Religious art and architecture were prevalent around the Academy since it shared grounds with the Great Cathedral.

The gates preceded a massive drawbridge across a tributary of the Chiarevala'Re that had served as Na'Roscalen's primary eastward fortification long ago. It hadn't been raised during Dalli's lifetime, or likely for centuries before she'd been born.

The bridge's ancient iron chains were kept free of rust not because the Empire, the Church, or the Academy kept an eye toward their future defensive deployment, but rather for the sake of tradition and for the grandiosity of their imposing presence. So great was their size, in fact, that Dalli could shimmy her entire body through their links if she had the will.

Crossing this bridge was bittersweet for Dalli; her parents had walked these planks countless times, as had she, herself, in her younger years, but they also led to the heart of all her anguish. The Academy that had celebrated her as a promising young scientist had rejected her as a plagiarist after her godfather had gotten his way, and it was in the gardens of the Great Cathedral that her parents had lost their lives.

Dalli felt the well of her determination bubbling up within her and lengthened her stride; she would avenge her parents' deaths, right the wrongs that had been done to her, and prove that she was unbroken. That she was capable. That her contributions were her own, and worthwhile.

After all, the instrument of her revenge and the proof of her assertions stalked gracefully by her side.

Dalli lead the way to the building that housed the Department of Aethral Harmonics. It was a nostalgic experience; nothing seemed to have changed in the last four and a half years. Self-important Dons still hurried through the halls in billows of black robes, while knots of students studied frantically or laughed in post-examination relief, joking with one another on their way to their next classes or to the dining hall.

The scent of vellichor and polished wood was pervasive, and it gave Dalli a sharp pang of homesickness. She longed to be a part of all this once more, to have her life back. Here was the specter of the girl she was supposed to be, the wistful shade of the life she'd earned. Its whispers wended through the weft of the tapestries on the walls, somehow more immutable to Dalli now than even the ancient stone behind them, as though the shade were the real girl, and she the ghost.

She and Lycinder began to attract attention, which wasn't terribly surprising since female students were still exceedingly rare at the Academy, and Dalli, herself, had been a bit of a legend before her dramatic departure. Of course, there was also the fact that Lycinder would draw stares wherever he went.

Dalli knew it the moment she'd been recognized because a great susurrus of whispering flooded the hall like wind through the trees. She'd been hoping no one would remember her, but academics are worse than knitting circles when it comes to gossip, and they have longer memories.

She gritted her teeth and walked on, eyes straight ahead.

To Dalli's relief, the administrative hallways were much quieter than the commons, and they were able to make their way in relative peace to the stairway that would lead to Professor Ahlgren's office.

A shadow of something that another girl might have named happiness took root in her chest as they approached the heavy, arched, dark-stained wooden door with its gilded name plaque.

Gilded name plaque?

Dalli's heart dropped into her stomach.

She held a hand up to halt Lycinder and took only as many steps, herself, as she needed to in order to read it.