The Shattered Path

Chapter 15 - The Guardian

The testing ceremonies had always been exciting, as this one would have been, if Lastes had been able to concentrate on it. He knew the students well and his eyes watched the stage. Yet, his thoughts traveled elsewhere. Syrs had promised that the Raujornians were coming today. They would take the headmaster and maybe the entire academy. Syrs had assured him that the Raujornians had no interest in a sword instructor and that they would leave him unharmed. They only dealt with those who broke the laws of magic they had set. If Alara was somewhere else, she wouldn't be discovered and would remain safe, as well. Such were the beliefs of Syrs anyway.

There were more black robed wizards present at the academy than Lastes had ever seen before. By the Sword of Vantaragos he was relieved he had kept Alara away. If she had come and participated in the ceremony, it could have been a disaster.

As soon as the ceremony ended, he would find Alara at Ganie's house and take her to Trader's Isle. They would leave the city for a few weeks and allow things to calm.

Lastes didn't know what Syrs had done to incur the wrath of the wizards of Raujorn, and he didn't really want to. He wouldn't even have come to this ceremony himself, except Syrs had insisted that everything happen as it would on any other ceremony day. Perhaps, the old man had some tricks up his sleeve, that even Raujornians could not see coming. At least by being there, Lastes could be certain Alara hadn't sneaked in behind his back. That was one thing that was comforting. It was the only thing.

On the stage, a student whose hood hid his face lifted a glass orb in his hands. Before the student could light it, the Raujornians turned in unison toward the back of the Hall, startling the student, who nearly dropped the orb. The Raujornians walked swiftly to the doorway, exiting the Hall. Lastes watched them go, unsure what could have drawn all of their attention at once. Several plain robed students whispered excitedly, murmurs in an otherwise silent chamber.

Lastes looked across the large hall where the instructors stood and Syrsraelius was no longer among them. The headmaster had been there just moments before. How had he slipped out so quickly without being noticed? It seemed likely that the headmaster of the academy would investigate whatever disturbance had drawn away the Raujornians, so his absence did not seem unusual. How he came to be absent was a great question, however.

The student on the stage readjusted his grip on the orb. Master Wimblaen stood next to him, in apparent calmness, nodding for him to continue. The other instructors ordered the students in the pews to be silent.

Lastes rubbed his chin, propping his elbow on his crossed arm. The chamber was quiet, but an invisible energy filled the room; not magic. There was tension. Everyone knew something was happening. Did they know the Raujornians had come for one of them?

A loud roar boomed from somewhere above and the building trembled for a moment. Long cracks stretched across the glass in the windows of the Hall.

The instructors silenced the students once more.

Lastes felt uneasy. That was a something. Something was happening. He was powerless against the wizards of Raujorn. Who wasn't? Syrsraelius' assurance had lessened his fear for himself. Alara was safe, but he didn't like the idea of the Raujies taking anyone else, either. There was nothing he could do. Since Alara wasn't there, he wished he hadn't shown up either. These were events beyond his control. He was already deeper than he wanted to be in the affairs of wizards. Magic made him uncomfortable, as it did all people with sense. They could already be on a ship for Traders' Isle with all of this chaos and concern behind them.

One black robed wizard returned. Followed by another and another. They kept coming. Until fourteen Raujornians, more than had left, stood across the back of the room. It seemed they were there to prevent anyone from leaving. The instructors didn't need to silence the students this time. Some of the younger ones breathed excitedly, but the rest were likely too frightened to speak. Wide eyes watched from the pews, heads turning back and forth.