Chapter 5
Rowan woke up with a stiff body after spending the night sleeping on the room’s cold stone floor, a contrast to the warm morning light that slivered through.
Sam was already gone.
He got up slowly, wincing at the ache in his muscles. The heavy oak door creaked loudly as Rowan pushed it open, the sound echoing through the corridor.
As he stepped out to the hallway, he couldn’t ignore the familiar scent of old parchment and incense that filled the air.
Tapestries that illustrated ancient rituals adorned the walls, their rich colors turned yellow as they faded with age.
Initiates in their dark robes hurried past, their footsteps echoing on the polished stone floors. Whispers and murmurs about the previous night’s events reached Rowan’s ears, stirring a mix of pride and anxiety within him.
The spiral staircase to Garron’s office seemed steeper than usual as Rowan climbed, his hand trailing along the cold, smooth banister.
As he reached the top, he could hear muffled voices from inside the office.
“I think the rebels have managed to infiltrate here,”
said an unfamiliar voice, hinted with worry.
“One of the Nimblings found out that my journal was stolen. An unfortunate thing,”
Garron replied, his tone grave.
Rowan heard the scrape of a chair being pushed back. Not wanting to appear suspicious, he knocked and entered.
Garron’s office was a circular room, dominated by a large, ornate desk. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with ancient tomes and scrolls. Sunlight streamed through a stained-glass window, casting colorful patterns across the room.
“Oh, Rowan, come in. I’ve been waiting for your visit,”
Garron said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Another grandmaster, whom Rowan didn’t recognize, stood near the window. At Garron’s gesture, he bowed slightly and left the room, his robes swishing softly as he passed.
“I just wanted to say, Rowan, you made a fine vessel choice for the ascension. Well done,”
Garron began, leaning back in his high-backed chair.
Rowan smiled, but the expression felt forced. Rowan recreated their recent actions in his mind repeatedly, feeling the weight of them pressing upon him.
“But this is not the reason we’re meeting, Rowan,”
Garron continued, leaning forward, his piercing gaze locking onto Rowan’s blue eyes.
“As you know, there are certain groups that want to see the Eidolon fall. I’m certain you’ve already heard about last night’s events. We don’t yet know who was responsible, but whoever it was managed to escape.”
Rowan felt his heart rate quicken, but he maintained his composure and attentiveness.
“This conversation is only to remind you not to get tempted,”
Garron warned.
Anger flared within Rowan at Garron’s lack of trust, but he knew better than to let it show. He leaned back in his chair, adopting a relaxed posture. “I appreciate the reminder, master. As you know the Eidolon is my only home, and you can be certain that my full loyalty is to the mission.”
Garron’s smile widened slightly, but a shadow of doubt still lingered in his expression. “I’m relieved that you feel the same, Rowan. Sometimes it’s hard to know whom to trust.”
As Rowan left Garron’s office, his mind raced. The cool air of the stairwell was a welcome relief after the stuffy office. Maintaining the facade had taken its toll, and he knew the battle he had started would only get harder.
Descending the stairs, he nearly collided with Sam, who was carrying a pile of books. Sam’s face lit up with a mixture of concern and relief at the sight of Rowan.
“We need to talk,”
Sam said urgently, his speech a gentle breath of sound.
They entered one of the reading chambers at the library, closing the heavy door behind them. The room offered a panoramic view of the entire library through its large windows. Rowan’s gaze swept over the sea of books below.
For a moment, Rowan hesitated, “What happened?”
He curiously asked.
Sam opened the one of the heavy leather books he brought with him, “This is a log of a shipment order for Mytholite,”
He started, “the purple liquid the grandmasters use for the ascensions.”
Rowan nodded with understanding.
“The Eidolon orders it once every month, and you and I are going to destroy the next one.”
Rowan turned to Sam, his eyes wide with disbelief.
“Don’t look at me like that, Rowan,”
Sam continued with determination. “These old bastards trained us in hand-to-hand combat, weaponry, and stealth since we were kids. You know that we’re capable of doing that.”
Rowan crossed his hands, “still, don’t you think they can get onto us?”
Rowan whispered back, glancing nervously at the door.
They both tensed as they heard footsteps echo through the corridor just outside their reading chamber, they waited for them to pass before continuing their conversation.
“We’ll wear a disguise,”
Sam assured him. “And we have about a week to train and sharpen our skills. I need you to trust me that we’ll be fine.”
Rowan smiled slightly, enjoying the mixed sensation of excitement and thrill that washed him all over. “Let’s do it,”
he agreed. “We’ll start training tomorrow.”
As they left the library, the weight of their decision settled over them. The familiar halls of the Eidolon now seemed charged with a new energy, the air thick with the promise of change. Rowan knew that the path ahead would be dangerous, but for the first time in years, he felt truly alive.