55. Revelations
A eden stood outside Director Vale’s office wondering what the consequences of his actions would be. There was so much that had happened in such a short space of time that he needed to process.
His hands were clammy, his temperature raised just like his heart rate.
He was nervous, and for good reason. Was he going to be kicked out of the academy for what he did to Kael?
As he had been told repeatedly, Kael was a Blackthorn, and it likely wouldn’t be long before his family found out what Aeden had done.
Were they going to do something to Nyra for her breaching the academy walls, too?
What was going to be his punishment for his attack on Kael?
Master Storme had warned him about his conduct and his responsibility given the advantage he had over the other first-year students through his premature connection to the Weave.
It had been chaos in the aftermath of the Sable twins’ departure, with Aeden not expecting things to end the way they had.
The faculty had stood side by side with him in facing off against them.
But this had only added further confusion for Aeden.
Why now? Why would the very people who Aeden was certain hated him leap to his defence when it wasn’t exactly unusual for students to lose their lives during the brutal training at the academy?
At least Nyra was okay, that was all Aeden truly cared about at this stage.
For a moment he had faced a fear he didn’t know possible when he had witnessed her standing up to both Orion and Rosheen.
She had pushed past her own fear to get to Aeden, to make sure he was okay, to protect him from harm, regardless of the consequences for her.
She could survive if Aeden’s life was to end – that was the way the Weave worked. It was only fatal to humans connected to the Weave if their Aer-Kin passed.
The fact that she was willing to fight to protect Aeden made his heart swell with a warmth he couldn’t explain. She was his and he was hers. She had been braver than Aeden would ever expect her to be, and she had now saved his life on more than one occasion.
Aeden’s legs were like dead weights, his head shrouded in a thick fog of exhaustion ever since he had drawn on his connection to the Weave to heal Nyra’s leg.
Orion had left a nasty gash to her leg before he departed, which thankfully Aeden was able to seal shut.
He wasn’t able to heal it fully; he wasn’t strong enough despite his best efforts.
It had taken Harrison and Vivienne dragging him away to stop him from draining his own life force in trying to heal her.
He had done enough to stem the bleeding, and now she was back at the hatchery where other healers from the academy were supporting her.
Aeden had promised her he would head straight across to check on her, only to be chastised publicly by a furious Master Storme, who had then marched him here where Aeden had been stood for some time.
Director Vale and Master Storme were inside as well as Mistress Jara and Master Sorrel, shortly followed by Mistress Plato and a bedraggled Kael, who was no doubt present to give his version of events. He had looked worse for wear, his colour ashen, his clothes torn and ragged.
Aeden could hear muffled words coming from inside, but he couldn’t make out what was being said. Every now and again Master Storme’s voice would boom in likely disagreement as Aeden continued to wait patiently to find out what was to become of him.
When the door opened, Aeden snapped his head up and stood upright as best he could, placing his hands formally by his side.
How his body ached, not like bruising from fighting with Kael, aside from his throbbing hand, but like he had been on a long exercise with no sleep.
His eyes were heavy, his breathing laboured from exhaustion.
If it was going to leave him feeling like this, he had learnt firsthand the consequences of drawing too much power from the Weave when not trained or attuned.
Kael was the first to leave, accompanied by Mistress Plato, who wore a concerned expression. He looked up at Aeden before quickly avoiding eye contact, a thin silver scar now present over one of his eyebrows.
That brought more comfort to Aeden than it perhaps should have, and he was conflicted as to why he felt guilty about it.
Kael had deserved that. He had deserved every single blow that Aeden had rained down on him, his only regret being that it wasn’t more prolonged, that he didn’t hurt him more.
It was no less than what he deserved for what he had done, not just for branding Aeden with the coward’s mark, but for putting Nyra’s life at risk by telling Orion all about her and her damaged wings, which in turn put Aeden’s life at risk, as it was linked to hers.
The thought of Kael avoiding eye contact brought a smile to Aeden, and he knew from Kael’s shrunken body language that maybe he had finally learnt his lesson; moving forward, he would be best leaving Aeden and Nyra alone.
Mistress Plato gave Aeden a look of disappointment before shaking her head. “This is not what healers do. In fact, it is quite the opposite,” she said as the two of them made their way down the darkened hall.
“Good,” Aeden muttered under his breath, still harbouring the sentiment of defiance. He didn’t want to be like the other healers. He wanted to forge his own path rather than being confined to the healers quarters for the rest of his life.
“Inside, Harrington,” Master Storme grumbled as he filled the frame of the door. His expression was more one of frustration tinged with disappointment as he stepped inside, allowing Aeden the space to pass by him.
Doing as he was instructed, Aeden entered the room to find Director Vale sat at her table, with Master Sorrel and Mistress Jara stood on either side of her.
Both Director Vale and Mistress Jara were expressionless as they waited for Aeden to enter, but Master Sorrel looked as though he had sat on something sharp as he tutted at the sight of Aeden and turned his head slightly.
Were things really that bad that the old master couldn’t bear to even look at him?
Master Storme shut the door behind Aeden with a thud, which caused Aeden to jump. The atmosphere inside the room was cold and formal, the room itself almost clinical in how pristine and meticulously placed everything was.
Director Vale’s office was spacious, with a dark wood floor that was varnished, giving it a shine from the lanterns on the walls.
In the centre of the room sat Director Vale’s table, filled with scrolls and letters that were stacked up tidily.
In front of her was a quill and inkpot and a half-written letter placed on the centre of the table.
Behind her was a large oak bookcase that completely filled the wall.
It was filled entirely with leather-bound books of varying sizes and colours, from greens to browns, the titles of the texts written on the spines.
To the left of Aeden was a large, intricately detailed map of Nevaria.
Aeden would have studied it further, but this wasn’t the time or the place for that.
He could, however, appreciate the cartography that had gone into producing something at such a scale.
To his right was a series of portraits and paintings hanging from the wall.
He had no idea who the portraits were, but most of them wore the same serious and stony expression of Director Vale, and when he saw a portrait of her at the nearest point to him, he deduced that these must be the previous directors at the academy.
A large navy-blue rug sat underneath where Aeden stood, gold stitching embroidering a fine pattern around the outer edges with the academy crest in the centre – three Aer-Kin heads with the nearby mountain range underneath.
“We have a lot to unpack,” Director Vale started.
“Let’s start off with your attack on Kael Blackthorn.
Violence of this nature will not be tolerated on the academy grounds.
He is lucky not to be more seriously injured.
His father will no doubt be in touch with me once word reaches him about your outburst. Do you have any understanding of the situation this puts me in?
They’re one of the biggest financial contributors to the academy.
I have no doubt they’ll want to see strong action taken. ”
Aeden went to speak, but the director raised her finger to stop him.
“That was not a question I need you to answer,” she said, her voice stone cold.
“Believe it or not, the academy has rules that we must adhere to at all times. We’ve already flexed these as far as possible to allow changes to be made because of your” – she paused for a second, giving a wary look to Master Storme – “circumstances.” She let out a frustrated sigh.
“Yet, despite the allowances and good grace we have afforded you, you seem insistent on breaking these rules. Which brings me to your punishment. I was going to put you in the garrison where you would spend the rest of the term mucking out the Aer-Kin, but given your affinity for the hatchery, I can’t help but think you would enjoy it.
So, after deliberation, I’ve decided that you’ll be cleaning all of the riders’ equipment following training, until I say so. Do you understand?”
Aeden nodded. “Yes, Director.” That seemed like a relatively light punishment given what he had done to Kael.
“Master Storme will make sure you report to the armourer, and reports will go back to him.”