Chapter 17 One and a Half Aeons Pre-Great War
One and a Half Aeons Pre-Great War
The news that the Great Hall would be completed in time for Luc’s graduation had struck Luc with an emotion he couldn’t name. An emotion that roiled in his gut, quickened his heartbeat, and stiffened his muscles. He hadn’t been able to shake the feeling since.
Presently, all students who were interested in applying to the architect program were attending a private banquet held in the massive, partially finished complex, where they could ask questions of the masters who were overseeing the project and meet their potential mentors for the program.
Normally, Luc would have been excited to learn from architects of such high standing, and he knew he was expected to contribute to the discussion, but amid the general fervor, he picked at his food and spoke to no one.
It was a given that he would join the program anyway; surely, there would be no shortage of mentors willing to take him on.
Sitting at the far end of the feast, he could scarcely bear to look at the walls.
It was just…the project was coming to an end. It had taken all of his existence, but soon, it would be done. And just in time for Luc to miss it.
For so long, Luc had passed by the grand structure of creamy stone during lessons excursions.
And for so long, he had imagined that he would become an architect soon enough to contribute something to its design.
His scrolls were full of sketches: a pillar, an arch, a buttress, a vault.
Fountains and columns. Sculptures and spires.
It didn’t matter.
And perhaps this was irrational, but Luc had the gnawing feeling that all the best projects were being completed and by the time he finished his training, there would be none left.
He knew he was exceptional, and he had his new world project, but…
he’d hit several snags with that idea, and he feared he would never unravel them.
He feared his project wouldn’t hold up to his visions of it.
He couldn’t talk to his classmates about it; they wouldn’t understand. And he wouldn’t talk to his instructors until he had something impressive to show them.
Sometimes, being a visionary was a lonely occupation.
“May I sit?”
Luc looked up. One of the masters was gesturing to the cushioned marble bench next to his.
Master Hadraniel. The Council architect.
“Of course, sir,” Luc answered, straightening automatically, then turning back to his platter of food. He plucked a cherry and popped into his mouth. It unraveled under his teeth until only the seed remained, rough against his tongue. He spit it out.
“It’s a good choice,” the master noted, reminding Luc of his presence. Luc pressed his tongue to the back of his teeth; he inhaled his desire to be alone and exhaled the patience required of him.
“Sorry?” Luc quirked an eyebrow at his dinner partner—a rotund, bearded angel devouring a cinnamon cake.
“Sitting this far from Master Nathaniel,” the master explained once he’d swallowed. “He spits when he talks.” The older angel gestured to the opposite end of the marble table, where most of Luc’s classmates had crowded around the other masters.
“I’ve never met him,” Luc replied. “Only seen him in passing.”
“Probably best. Nothing like spit in your eye to help you see your work clearly.” The master laughed as though he’d made quite a clever joke. “I don’t believe we’ve met either.”
“Lucifer, sir.” He offered his hand to the bearded angel.
“Well, my name is Hadraniel, but don’t tell anyone.” The angel shook Luc’s hand as he brushed crumbs off his robes. Some clung to his beard. “Call me Hadri.”
“Oh…but aren’t you…?” Luc gestured to the angel’s gold insignia pins: the first, an outlined shard of granite, denoting a master mason; the second, a half-circle inside a circle, each formed from a series of interwoven knots, denoting a master architect.
“Oh those?” Hadri squinted at the pins like he’d never seen them before. “They make me wear them to official occasions like this, but don’t let them put you off.” He chuckled heartily, his eyes twinkling. “Lucifer, is it?”
“Uh, yes, sir.”
Hadri raised an eyebrow. He seemed to be waiting for something else, and after a moment, Luc corrected himself, “I mean, most angels call me Luc.”
“Aha! Luc!” Hadri nodded his head as though ‘Luc’ were a word he’d been trying to remember. Or the answer to a question he’d been pondering for some time. He tugged on his beard, and the crumbs tumbled out.
Luc gave a mild head nod to this declaration, then turned away. He wanted to leave early, but he didn’t want to leave first.
Hadri seemed friendly enough, and it was important for Luc to get to know him, but his cheerfulness grated against Luc’s desire to sulk.
Alone.
At the end of this table like he’d been doing.
Rising from his seat, Luc announced, “I think I’ll take a walk around the building. I haven’t seen much of it.”
To his chagrin, Hadri stood as well and replied, “Oh? I’ll go with you!
I haven’t seen all of it myself. I float around to different projects, you see.
A little here. A little there. Wherever the Council needs me.
” He chuckled. “Shall we?” Hadri gestured for Luc to leave first, his eyes sparkling merrily, and Luc had no choice but to offer him a tight smile as he passed.
No one rejected a master’s invitation—not even Luc.