10. Escalation
E verything was dark. Aeden hung motionless in the air, and there was nothing around him but an emptiness that filled him with sorrow.
It was a feeling that reminded him of the hatchery, the first time he had reached out in the weave.
As Aeden started to come to, he panicked, kicking his arms and legs out as he readied himself to fight.
He was in a strange place. His legs and arms moved as though they were passing through a pool of tar, slow and laborious.
“Hello?” he called out. His words echoed as if he were in a cavern, one of eternal darkness, as that was all he could see.
Confused, Aeden’s mind raced as his heart thundered.
Was he dead? Had Kael pushed things too far?
He brought his hand up to his chest. He couldn’t feel anything.
He didn’t know where he was, but the air or atmosphere around him felt heavy.
There was nothing on his chest when he traced his fingers over it .
“Hello!” he called out once again, this time more panicked and desperate.
The sadness, the black void he had felt in his very soul after the hatchery, returned. This time it was different. This time it was his own thoughts of desperation and loneliness instead of someone else’s. He hadn’t even made it a day without making a mortal enemy and having his life ended.
The helplessness became too much for Aeden to bear, and he started to sob.
This wasn’t part of the plan. This wasn’t how he was going to find out what really happened to his parents.
He hadn’t felt this alone since he was a child when he was first told of their deaths by his grandpa, something even as an adult he had never truly accepted.
That sadness weighed heavy on him as tears streamed down his face, his eyes stinging as a huge lump formed in his throat.
One of Aeden’s problems was that he didn’t show his emotions.
He bottled them up until it was too late, rather than talking about how he was feeling.
All through his childhood, this had led to more than one confrontation, as Aeden learned to do the talking with his fists to those that did wrong by him.
Look where that had gotten him: stranded someplace between life and death, with no clue how to get back.
Perhaps he was dreaming? He continued to look around him, his arms and legs hanging loosely beneath him as if he was suspended in the air.
He was all but ready to give up hope, to accept that wherever he was, it was a consequence of his interaction with Kael. If only he hadn’t reacted as strongly as he had in the dinner hall.
In the distance, a faint sound reached out towards him, almost melodic in its tone, soothing and searching. Aeden listened more intently, at first thinking that he was simply hallucinating.
The sound was almost angelic as it reached out across the void, giving Aeden a renewed sense of hope.
“Hello?” Aeden called out again. “Is anybody there?” His words were distorted and dampened, unlike the noise that he could hear. Wherever the sound was coming from, it brought him a level of comfort that he needed. He felt at peace rather than in a panic. “Where are you?” he said.
The melody faded away.
“Please, don’t stop.” Fear rose up inside him once again. He didn’t want to be alone again, not here, not in this place, whatever this place was.
There was no reply. Aeden found himself feeling downcast and defeated once again. He let out a sigh. He had nothing left.
Ahead of him, from where he thought the melody might have come from, a speckle of light appeared in the distance, as if singular star had appeared in a night sky.
Aeden’s focus remained on this fixed point as it seemingly grew bigger and bigger.
And then he realised that it wasn’t growing bigger – it was getting closer to him.
The tendril of light became elongated like a thin stream of spider silk, shining as brightly as white-hot metal.
It traced around in the air around him, one singular stream of light until it finally reached him.
No sooner did it reach him than the overwhelming anxiety subsided, a calm coming over him just like when he’d heard the melody a few moments before.
A strange sensation tugged in the pits of his stomach as the light connected with him.
If it was a hook, then he was the fish, and it pulled with more force than he expected.
Aeden felt invigorated. Whatever was producing the light, it was drawing to him, calling out to him specifically.
Was it his parents’ spirits? The thought comforted him, but he quickly banished it – that would have been too good to be true.
This felt like something different, something warming, something new.
The warmth that coated his body when the light touched him was like a warm hug.
Perhaps that was why he was drawing similarities with his parents.
He was holding on to the remnants of his childhood memories of them, before they were lost to the war.
Reaching out, Aeden grabbed hold of the light, half-expecting his hands to pass through it as it connected to his stomach.
Instead, the light stream bent around his hands, tangible yet spectral at the same time.
It gave him a lurching feeling like he had pulled on something connected to his insides and let go. The sensation was nauseating.
Perhaps . . .
Aeden took a deep breath and grabbed hold of the light stream once again.
Perhaps he could pull himself forward using the stream.
With a tug, he found himself moving slowly, as if gliding in nothing, feeling utterly weightless as he did.
He pulled on the stream, not wanting to move too fast, excitement filling up inside of him.
In the distance, the faintest of melodies started again.
It was closer this time, more like humming rather than singing, and Aeden felt himself drawn to it like a moth to a flame, the urge to continue almost unbearable.
He had to reach whatever it was, as if his very existence depended on it somehow .
When he tugged on the thread again, a searing pain erupted in his shoulder, and the light stream snapped, the connection to his stomach fading as fast as the light had formed.
The melody was replaced by a pain-filled screech, which brought an overwhelming sensation of discomfort to Aeden as his body crumpled into a foetal position.
“No, no, no!” he cried, clutching at his legs. It was all he could do to stop the dull ache that was now forming in his chest, the sadness returning once again.
The noise ahead of him echoed until there was nothing but the dark void surrounding him again.
With a shocked gasp, Aeden sat bolt upright, panting.
He coughed and spluttered as if he had just been pulled up out of the bath.
His memories came flooding back to him all at once.
Kael trying to drown him. The knife. The blood.
He looked down at his chest, bringing his hand up to trace his fingers over the scar that was now formed there.
He continued to gasp for air, his panic worsening as he frantically looked around him. There was no sign of Kael or the others. In fact, there was no sign of the bathroom where he had been.
The cold floor he was standing on had been replaced with the comfort of a bed, where he was now sitting upright. Rows of tightly made beds lined up on either side of him and opposite, twenty or so in total. Each of them was pristinely made, all of them empty apart from the one that Aeden occupied.
“Ah, you’re awake,” a woman’s voice said. She was well spoken and approaching at a quickened pace, wearing a friendly smile. She had curly, greying hair and a rotund figure.
From what Aeden could tell, he was on some kind of medical wing. The woman approaching him wore an all-white uniform. She had a neat and tidy appearance and was carrying a tray of fruit.
“What happened?” Aeden asked, his voice crackling. His throat was dry, and he gave a little cough to try and clear it.
“What happened, dear? You nearly died is what happened. How could you be so foolish?” The woman reached the foot of his bed, placing the tray of food on a small table that stood beside it.
Aeden looked around him, still feeling groggy as he came around from his unconsciousness.
His vision was slightly blurred, but his focus slowly came back to normal as he gathered his bearings.
He wasn’t in agonising pain, but he was in discomfort.
His body ached, and his head throbbed as if he had been out all night drinking ale.
He started patting his hands against his body.
He was wearing a thin, cream-coloured gown, the fabric of which had the texture of parchment, giving the impression that it could tear easily.
He reached towards his chest, pulling down the light fabric to check his wound.
Had it all been a dream? Not just being in a blackened void, but the attack by Kael?
Aeden’s head spun as hundreds of conclusions started racing through his mind.
Most importantly, why wasn’t he in more pain?
Rubbing his fingers over his chest, he traced the raised scar that now sat there. He looked down at it as best he could, but he couldn’t see what it looked like properly .
“How am I” – Aeden paused, wondering how best to describe how he was feeling. “How am I okay?” It didn’t take a genius to realise that he should have been in a far worse condition than he was. He rubbed his hands over his face, feeling his nose. It was seemingly unbroken.
“That is the question,” the woman said. She reached for the soft pillow behind Aeden and started plumping it up while he was sat upright.
“You’re in the healers quarter. I’m Mistress Plato.
Not only do I teach the Support class how to use their healing and barrier spells, but I am also able to cast them, which is why you’re waking up to my face, dear. ”
She placed the back of her hand on Aeden’s forehead for a few seconds. The chill of her hand felt calming against his skin, and the fact she was nursing him made him feel a sense of ease that he hadn’t felt since he was much younger.
“Kael,” he said aloud, but it was unintentional; Aeden felt he was capable of dealing with his own business and didn’t want to rely on the academy managing the situation.
“He has been reprimanded. You are certainly foolish to go picking a fight with a Blackthorn. That family is not one to be messed with. Although some would argue that his retaliation was simply a reaction to your assault on him. Do you see how fast things can escalate at the academy?” Mistress Plato reached for a cup of water and passed it to Aeden, supporting his trembling hands as he raised it to his lips to take a drink.
“I had to heal a nasty cut to his neck earlier in the day after the incident in the dinner hall. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened here.
Kael and those that helped him most definitely had repercussions for their actions, though he should have been expelled if you ask me.
” Mistress Plato sounded frustrated as Aeden finished his drink.
“It’s obvious it was him that did this to you, but someone else has taken the fall. ”
“What do you mean?” Aeden asked. “I threatened him with a knife, I kind of started all this.”
“You didn’t nearly kill him, and what you did could still have been argued as self-defence, dear.
After all, he was seen drawing his arm back before you took any action.
What he did was just plain wrong. The fact he has gotten away with it shows” – Mistress Plato stopped herself, as if she remembered it was a student she was talking to.
“What’s happened?” Aeden pressed. Something clearly had Mistress Plato riled up.
“Another student took the fall. He has been dismissed from the academy. The Blackthorn boy has had no further action. I said they should have waited for you to wake. That you could clarify what had happened and then appropriate action could be taken, but Director Vale . . . Well, this academy is dangerous enough without students trying to kill each other.”
“Thank you,” Aeden said, “for healing me.”
Mistress Plato stopped and gave Aeden a concerned look. “That’s what isn’t right with this whole situation,” she said. “When you were found, you were already partially healed.”