CHAPTER 86 Torj
CHAPTER 86
Torj
‘The study of magical bonds throughout the ages reveals a complex tapestry of power, control and the eternal struggle between the self and the other’
– Tethers and Magical Bonds Throughout History
A LL THE WAY back to the academy, Torj warred with himself. He couldn’t deny it: there had been a flicker of gold. But it had to have been a trick of the light, or perhaps he’d been momentarily blinded by his climax...And it had gone as quickly as it had come – a figment of his imagination. There had been no thread , either, not as Audra had described it.
Regardless of what he had or had not seen, he needed to tell Wren about his conversation with Audra. He should have told her the first chance he got, before what had transpired in the meadow. But he’d been so caught up in her, so overwhelmed by his love for her that nothing else had mattered.
As the academy building came into view, he glanced at her: the smiling curve of her lips, the brightness of her willow-green eyes. He had never seen her more beautiful, more content than she was now.
Yet Audra’s words came back to him with a pulse of dread. You can be used against each other: hurt one to hurt the other...I do not deny that she will be vulnerable through you.
He had to tell Wren what he’d learned, and together they could decide what it meant. That was the only way.
When they reached the foyer steps, hand in hand, he halted her. ‘I have to tell you something.’
Wren’s face fell, and it broke his heart to see it, to be the cause of it. ‘What is it?’ she asked, tensing. The afternoon sun gilded her, highlighting every beautiful feature.
‘Torj?’ Wren’s voice wavered. ‘Is something wrong?’
She deserved to know what Audra suspected, what had been discussed while she was in the Gauntlet. He cupped her face and peered deep into her eyes.
Steeling himself, Torj stroked her jaw. ‘That depends...’
‘On...?’
‘On how you feel about—’
‘ There you are!’ Dessa’s voice exclaimed from the top of the stairs.
Torj reluctantly let his hands fall away from Wren as Dessa rushed down to greet them, but her eyes were still on him.
‘Later,’ he told her.
Worry etched lines across Wren’s brow. ‘But—’
‘Wren!’ Dessa clasped her shoulder. ‘Where have you been? We’re meant to be preparing for the graduation ceremony.’
Sure enough, beyond the entrance, Torj could see the flurry of activity in the foyer.
Dessa was already tugging Wren up the stairs. ‘You have to be fitted for your robes, and we have to do something about your hair,’ she added, plucking a twig from Wren’s bronze tresses.
Wren resisted, trying to wrench her arm free of her friend’s hold. ‘Dessa, we were just in the middle of something—’
‘It can wait,’ Torj heard himself say, spying Thea waiting in the doorway. ‘Go and get ready for the ceremony. You’ve earned this.’
‘But—’ Concern flashed in Wren’s eyes as Dessa renewed her attempts to get her up the stairs.
Torj smiled. ‘I meant every word I said, Embers. We’ll talk later. For now, it’s time to celebrate what you’ve achieved.’
Her throat bobbed. ‘It’s me and you?’ she said.
‘Always.’
With Wren swept away by Dessa and guarded by Thea, Torj went to the great hall, which had been transformed into a grand amphitheatre. Rows of wooden benches had been arranged in a semicircle facing the raised platform at the far end. Banners bearing the symbols of the four pillars – healing, lifelore, warfare and design – hung from the rafters, their vibrant colours catching the light that streamed through the high windows.
‘How’s Wren?’ a voice said from behind him.
Torj turned to see Wilder Hawthorne approaching, a smug smile on his face.
‘She’s good,’ Torj said as his friend came to stand beside him.
‘You finally talked? About what you found in that book?’
‘We...’
Wilder barked a laugh. ‘Did more than talked.’
Heat crept up Torj’s neck. ‘That’s between us.’
‘Glad to hear it, brother,’ Wilder replied. ‘I’m happy for you...Both of you. And it’s about time.’
‘That’s rich, coming from you,’ Torj scoffed.
But Wilder grasped his shoulder firmly. ‘I mean it, Torj. You deserve happiness. You have for a long while. I’m glad you’ve found it.’
‘Thank you,’ Torj managed, his thoughts drifting to Wren, picturing her preparing for the ceremony with the other novices. It felt like only moments ago that he had finally found the words to confess his feelings for her. The memory of her smile and the warmth of her embrace still lingered on his skin.
For a moment, Torj stood with Wilder, the pair watching the servants scurry about the hall, placing intricately woven cushions on the benches. The scent of incense wafted through the air, mingling with the fragrance of fresh flowers that adorned the walls and pillars. An audience began to take their places – academy staff and students, the loved ones of the novices...The alchemy masters gathered at the front of the hall, including the High Chancellor, whose robes of deep blue brought out the mottled bruising still prominent around his throat.
‘Your doing?’ Wilder asked, noting the same thing.
‘He got off easy,’ Torj muttered.
‘I’ll say. I’m surprised you didn’t rip his head clean off.’
‘I wanted to, believe me.’
‘Wren stopped you?’ Wilder asked with a note of amusement.
‘Yes.’
Wilder chuckled. ‘They have a way of doing that.’ Then, he pointed to the front of the hall. ‘Look...’
A sudden hush fell over the bustling hall. Torj followed Wilder’s gaze to where a procession of royal guards and Warswords marched through the entrance, their armour glinting in the late sunlight that streamed through the high windows.
In the lead was King Leiko, his shoulders draped in a regal cloak of claret trimmed with bronze thread, a rearing horse embroidered on the back. Beside him walked Queen Reyna, her graceful steps barely disturbing the hem of her flowing gown. The fabric shimmered with hues of silver and blue, like the surface of the great frozen lake of Aveum. Her long auburn hair was braided with strands of pearls, and a delicate silver tiara rested upon her brow.
Behind them, Lady Liora, the regent of Harenth, followed closely. Her raven hair was pulled back into an intricate knot, held in place by a hairpin adorned with a single blood-red ruby.
‘They’re all here,’ Torj murmured to Wilder. ‘When was the last time the rulers of the midrealms gathered in the same halls?’
‘The memorial at Thezmarr,’ Wilder replied, his voice equally awed as the royal guests took their seats on the elevated platform.
‘I suppose their attendance speaks to their newfound respect for alchemy,’ Torj mused.
Wilder made a noise of agreement. ‘That and their investments in Drevenor. I think they’ve finally realized the role the newly minted adepts will play in shaping the future of the midrealms...’
Torj turned back to the entrance of the great hall, where the novices would soon make their appearance. The seats had filled, and the anticipation in the room was palpable, the air thick with a mix of excitement and apprehension.
For of the original cohort of fifty, only twenty-five would go on to graduate to adept. Besides Wren and her team, Torj didn’t know who else had made it through the Gauntlet. His thoughts had only been of her.
He tensed as High Chancellor Belcourt stood at the podium, his aged hands gripping the edges of the lectern as he surveyed the gathered crowd. As the murmurs of the audience faded into silence, he began to speak, his voice deep and resonant, filling the great hall.
‘Esteemed guests, royal dignitaries, masters of alchemy, and most importantly, our brave novices. It is my great honour to welcome you all to this momentous occasion – the graduation ceremony of our most promising alchemists. Please be upstanding.’
The High Chancellor gestured to the back of the hall, where the novices were gathered. The crowd stood to await their entrance.
Torj’s eyes went straight to Wren. The bond between them made it easy to spot her in a sea of others. Her gaze met his across the hall, as though she, too, had followed that tether to him. She was standing beside Dessa and Zavier, resplendent in emerald-green robes.
And when she smiled...it was the most breathtaking thing he had ever seen.