The Broken Mountain

Tanikmont

Seriso Aetuel's nerves drove him nearly to madness on the ride to Vlaecla. He did his best to drive the nervousness down, tapping his fingers, focusing on his breathing, even trying to count from one to a thousand. None of it worked. His heart never failed to furiously beat in his chest, and he would surely look a sweaty mess by the time they arrived.

One of the Acel whelps sat beside him. His father had mentioned the boy's name more than a few times, but Seriso had never committed it to memory. Gon? Or was it Don? If truth be told, it sounded more like a name Bissian savages gave to their children than one a highborn Etherian would.

However highborn he was, the boy was not the kind Seriso would have thought had the power of daeticryst within him. He was much smaller and weaker than Seriso himself, and he figured that physical strength was tied to magical power. One had only to look at the Emperor, the most powerful crystic who ever lived, who was over seven feet tall. Seriso figured that the boy had little ability, at least compared to himself.

He had to pity him. The boy overflowed with excitement, pouring questions on the two crystics that led them to their chamber. In any other situation, Seriso would have laughed at the childish nature of the questions, but he was far too focused on cooling his own fear. The boy soon stopped asking them once he realized the crystics either gave short, cold answers or none at all.

The crystics had been no short of terrifying to Seriso, though not by being harsh or threatening. They were empty husks. None gave a flicker of emotion. No happiness, anger, sadness, disgust; nothing. They never spoke except when commanded. They never moved except when commanded. They simply stared unflinching into empty air. And obeyed.

This is what I will become if I do not fit their mold, he had thought.

Their leader was different. Laconus Temiel was his name He towered over almost everyone, even Daetursia's high larons who was spindly and tall like a willow. Laconus, however, was far from spindly, with wide shoulders and huge arms. His long face showed nothing but pride and contempt, and his eyes glimmered with emotion.

Laconus was the last to enter the ship—he was the one announcing the Ecsaminaton. He had spoken a few curt words of congratulations to Seriso and the Acel boy, then walked away and ordered their door closed. Seriso heard the faint click of the lock turning. Only a few seconds later, the ship lurched upward.

The Acel boy stared at Seriso for an uncomfortable amount of time, wearing a ridiculous confused look on his face. "Aren't you excited?" he asked. "Don't you feel the... the energy?" He stared at his fingers as if he could see the crystals' power coursing within him.

"Of course I feel it," he said sullenly. To be sure, Seriso had once loved the feeling of holding daeticryst within him. His father had let him touch a crystal before, to test if he had the ability. For close to a turn of the moon, he felt truly alive. His body felt lighter, hunger and thirst plagued him less, and even breathing was easier. He remembered his bitter tears when his father had forced him to give it up, the crystic woman wrenching it away. Then his father told him what his future held...

"Why don't you sound happy?" the Acel boy asked, wrenching Seriso from the memory. "You should be rejoicing! We're going to fly ships and wield crystal swords and bring glory to the Empire."

Seriso would have laughed at the boy's naivety if he weren't so afraid. Is this what everyone thinks crystics are like? "The Hallowed Blade is the only crystal sword. You can have your glory. I want no part of it."

The boy's face went from confusion to disgust. "I thought you of all people would be proud to serve the Emperor."

"Serve? From now on we are more slaves than servants."