Chapter 9 #3
“Not by blood, but they have that whole brother vibe going on. You go against one of them; you go against all of them. No one would challenge them because there’s hardly anyone in Quin-state who can match their skill or the natural affinity they each have with their gifts.
Council are equal parts, frothing at the bit, and beside themselves with worry when it comes to them. ”
“Why?” I ask.
Orion leans in closer. “Individually, they haven’t even come close to their gifts or powers manifesting fully, and as a group, they haven’t aligned.
When those things happen,” he says, making a weird hand gesture I interpret as either a bam or fireworks.
“Time will tell if Council has the ability to keep them in line with their vision, or if they become another issue for Council to deal with.”
“So, they are aligned?”
“In a sense. They have their Kleis assigned and waiting.”
“Waiting for what?”
He shrugs, but my brain is already racing on to the next question.
“Remind me again about what Kleis means. I know we talked about but…”
Orion jumps straight back in to explaining, with a patience I wish more people at Thales had.
“A Kleis is a living being. They can be male or female, and any designation, and they’re supposedly the key to unlocking a unit’s power.
Rumors suggest they can facilitate other unit members sharing power, energy, and strength.
Information on them and how they work is restricted by Council.
Although, they like to throw around the motto they can be the difference between life and death whenever someone from Council talks about how special Kleis are, and why alignment is so important. ”
“I can’t keep up with all the terms. Assigned, aligned, commissioned all sounds the same. What’s commissioned?”
“Well, that’s easy. Noms are the only ones where the term commissioned applies. Commissions are authorized placements when the faculty tells us who we’re placed with. Noms fill in a particular task or role to aid a unit.”
I shake my head, trying to grasp all the concepts and terms. “And that role is what, exactly?”
The sardonic grin on his face coincides with the cynicism saturating his words. “We’re a tool to help shifters, demons, celestials, and magikals to reach their full potential. Period.”
I hold my hand up, bringing a pause to his explanation while I figure it out in my head. It takes a couple of seconds. “We’re essentially a ball?”
“What on earth, Maya? How did you get to that?”
“Stay with me. If you look at sports. Has anyone ever said, I’d like to thank the golf ball for making me the world’s greatest golfer? Or maybe a quarterback, or a midfielder, or a linesman. Without the ball, they wouldn’t even be a sportsperson.”
Orion gives me the side-eye and pats my arm. “You’re very special. I love the way you’re making it work, Maya. All you need to remember; however you want to understand it, Noms are on the bottom of the power scale. We serve them however they tell us to.”
I grab his fingers, squeezing them as hard as I can.
Payback for giving me crap because there’s no denying my analogy works great.
What he said, though, highlights how the citizens of Quin-state view Noms. The caste system they’ve adopted is complete bullshit, but it’s bullshit Quin-state has abided by for eons.
“It’s important what we do, Maya.” His sarcasm is basically dripping from his words. “You wouldn’t risk your most valuable asset, would you? Kleis are too important in our world. Not every unit will find its Kleis, but each unit has to know how to work with one. It’s like guns.”
“You know about guns?”
He stares right through me, letting me know my question was borderline stupid, before answering. “We don’t use them. We, not us, mind you, have built-in weapons, but all the other designations do. Maybe we Noms should get some guns, actually.”
“Orion…” I click my fingers, hoping it helps him get back on track.
“Okay, okay. Anyone using a gun has to learn how to handle it first. They aren’t given the real thing along with live ammunition on day one.”
I grimace because I think our government is now using actual weapons and bullets at all their training facilities.
“They shouldn’t if they do,” he adds. “Whoever is wielding the gun needs to know their way around the weapon first, learn how it works and how to look after it, then move on to how to use it as a weapon. Noms are the inconsequential replica of a Kleis. Units have to learn to trust each other, work with each other’s strengths and weaknesses before anything else, but they also have to have experience with an additional body in their space, which is where you and I come into play. Does that help?”
“Of course it does. Are there any Kleis here?” I ask, looking around. They seem like key players in this world, so I can’t imagine I’d miss them.
“There’s supposedly a dozen at Thales. Not that anyone confirms or denies the number because it would be like showing the universe your ace card.”
“Makes sense.”
“They have a special House with their own group of teachers who guide them through their training.”
“Oh it’s so secret squirrel, but at the same time, they’re like the celebrities of your world?”
He gives me the look again. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Maya, but you’re really strange.”
“Go back to the aligned groups.”
“Our grades, status in society as a whole and within a sect, along with the purity of our powers, are collected by the academy and given to Council. At which point Council aligns the strongest together to make alignments. More often than not, they keep the group members in their own designation. There are a couple of mixed groups, but it’s always weighted one way, like more vamps than anything else.
Does that make sense? Am I explaining it so you can understand? ”
“Yeah, it does.” I wave him on with another forkful of pie.
“The self-appointed kings of our fine learning establishment effectively told Council to go fuck themselves. The Council oversees Quin-state and comprises representatives from each of the factions. They’re our governing body.
But before we can talk about that, we have to go back a couple of steps.
It’s imperative to understand that these guys are also the strongest within their own species.
If they wanted, they could claim the highest mantle among their kind, despite their age and pedigree, which is unheard of.
In our world, the positions of Supreme Alpha, Elder, etcetera, represent power and strength because it’s basically a fight to the death to claim the spot.
So many lives have been lost because of ambition and ego. ”
He stops talking and turns discreetly to see if anyone is listening.
Which only adds more weight to what he’s saying.
We eat without talking for a few minutes.
It gives me the chance to digest what he’s saying but also shovel as much food in as I can.
People might not be listening, but the celestials keep glancing over at me, and I can’t say the looks are friendly.
I suspect I’m about to be given another lesson in how holy they are.
I’m not sure whether Orion notices, or if he’s simply more used to their method of intimidation than I am, so can read them better. Around us, though, the atmosphere changes; the air stifled by their ego.
“They’re an anomaly individually and collectively, which paints a target on their backs. Yet they know how to exist in this world.”
“How?”
“By keeping up appearances,” he whispers quietly, but he’s so intent on giving me a rundown, he misses when the guy who tripped me earlier, and the vampire and the shifter who were involved in the fight afterwards, all stand and turn my way.
“Incoming,” I interrupt, barely moving my lips.
I scrape the back of my chair loudly as I stand up, keeping them all in my sight.
Everyone within hearing distance stops to watch. Some of them even stand up.
If I’m going down again, I want people to see it happen.
I want them to witness it wasn’t me who started anything.
I get there’s no one, aside from Orion, who will stand up for me—no one would answer questions from the faculty—but that doesn’t discount or excuse them from the weight of seeing me suffer.
They eye me, much as I do them. Except they’re smirking, and not in a sexy way.
I repack my belongings. I’m not keen on running, but I’d rather not get beaten up and made to feel like crap again.
“We got off on the wrong foot. Let’s do a restart. I’m Michael,” the guy who intentionally tripped me says, looking overly contrite.
Another group of students arrive at our table. This time, it’s the girls, with Seraphina leading them. She, too, is working hard at looking friendly. Both of them acting so obviously fake has me gritting my teeth, trying to hide how uneasy I feel in their presence.
With the whole student body watching us, I smile, trying not to show my teeth. “Of course we can do that. It sounds great, actually. I’m Maya. Thanks for stopping by, I need to bail, though.” I pick up my stuff and take a step backward. “So much homework.”
“And didn’t you get detention too?” a very helpful magik student offers, his sly smile suggesting he’s faking being friendly too.
But he gives me an out. I make an overexaggerated gasp, acting a hell of a lot more airy than I am. “Thanks for reminding me, I better go.”
All my training from the community center kicks in.
We used to teach people how to behave around the enforcers, which is where I learned about predators.
My movements remain slow and steady, and I keep the ringleaders in my sight, but I don’t let my gaze settle on them individually.
Then I think far-away thoughts to remain calm as I drift past them and out the front dining hall doors, Orion trailing me from behind.
It’s not even the end of day one yet, and I’m tired.