Hunter's Academy (Veller) (53 page)

BOOK: Hunter's Academy (Veller)
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Kile had once again been summoned to Morgan’s tower, this time it would be for her final evaluation in the mystic arts and the use of her edge. There was only three months left to go at the academy and the excitement could already be felt in the air. The Third year cadets had already started to slack off, coasting through the days, until the graduation ceremony where they would be receiving their destination papers and their certification credentials. From there they would be off to… where ever the destination papers told them they would be off to.

She reached the door of Morgan’s tower, knocked three times and entered.

“Sir, are you in here?” She called out from the foyer as she hung her hat on the rack.

“Oh, Kile, please come in.”
The mystic called out. She followed his voice down the hall and into the main room. His room at this point had been neater than it had ever been over the last three years, and to think, he would have to pack it all back up in less than three months when he moved back to the Mystic Tower, leaving the smaller tower vacant for the next Mystic of next year's class.

He was sitting in his overstuffed winged back chair sipping his rosemary tea.
The fire suspended in a the floating globe was neither heating nor cooling the room, at least she couldn’t feel any difference from the outside temperature. It was probably there just for the atmosphere she figured.

“Please, be seated.” He said, directing her toward the other overstuffed winged back chair that she had become all too familiar with. At least now she was able to sit in it without having to fear how she was going to get out of it.

“Care for some tea?”

“Thank you sir.” She replied as she fell in the seat. She accepted her tea, although she really never developed much of a taste for it, but it was
still rude to refuse it. She set the tea down on the side table and fished through her pouch, producing a small metal box.

“I don’t suppose I’ll need this anymore.” She said as she handed it to Morgan.

“No, I suppose not, now that you are graduating.” The old mystic replied as he opened the lid. The flame that had warmed her cell through the cold winter nights at the academy was quickly swallowed up by the fire that was suspended in the floating globe. Morgan closed his hands over the box and it too was gone.

“So, this is it.” He said as he picked up his own tea and sipped from the cup. “Your final evaluation
in the mystic arts, how do you feel?”

“I’d be lying if I said I felt confident sir.”

He laughed as he set his tea back down on the table beside him. It was a little strange to see the mystic so relaxed and she wondered how much rum did he have in his drink.

“Well then, let me put you at ease.” He said. “You’ve past.”

She sat there for a moment, unsure of how to take the news. She had expected some type of assessment of her skills, or possibly some lengthy mystic evaluation with flashing lights and thunder or something, but to simply sit there and be told she passed, that was not what she had expected.

“So, that’s it.” She said. It seamed like an anticlimactic ending to all her studies.

“What do you want me to do, give you a test?”

“I kind of thought there would be something.”

He laughed again, shaking his head.

“There is no real test that I can give, especially for someone like you. Every cadet’s edge is different, it both ability and strength. There is no real
yardstick that I can use to measure them. All I am required to do is inform the guild whether I believe a cadet has control of his edge, and whether that edge is sufficient for what is required of a hunter.”

“And mine is?”

“Do you really feel you have to ask me that?” Morgan asked, raising one of his furry little eyebrows.

“I suppose not.”
She replied.

“You’ve already proven to me that you have enough control over your edge that you are not a danger to yourself or others, and that you can use it effectively. But you must understand, that doesn’t mean your studies are over.”

“What do you mean?”

“The mystic arts are anything but predictable, especially in hunters. When someone enters into the
Mystic Tower to start their life as a mystic, they are immersed in the art of their sphere. They must learn all that there is to know about the sphere that they are influenced by, so that they can control the power they possess. Hunters on the other hand, have rather limited abilities. They know only one or two skills that are associated with the sphere they are influenced by. For instance, Eric Rimes. As you are no doubt aware, his sphere of influence was that of fire. He learned how to wield it quite effectively, but his skill is limited. He could create it, and project it, but that was where his skill ended. A fire mystic must know more, he must know not only how to create fire, but to manipulate it, and extinguish it, skills that Eric, at this moment, does not have.”

“Should you be telling me
this, sir? I mean, I thought that a hunter’s edge was kept only between the hunter and the mystic.”

“This is true.” Morgan said, raising one finger, which always meant he had a lot more to say. “As of yesterday, Eric Rimes is no longer a hunter. The guild has placed an open script on his head, and therefore he is no lo
nger afforded the privileges of confidentiality.”

“An open script?”

She was a bit surprised that it had gone that far, or that Eric had managed to avoid capture for so long. Somehow he had managed to stay ahead of his pursuers through the winter, and now it appeared that they were not getting any closer to bringing him in. She knew Eric, and she knew that he wasn’t that competent at least not without help.

“You said he didn’t have the skill to control fire at this movement.”
She said, trying to get back on track. She didn’t really want to think about Eric, let alone talk about him, but the mystic was going somewhere with this and if she didn’t get him focused, he could go off on tangents all afternoon. “Does that mean he could learn new skills?” She asked.

“Oh yes, he has the capability of learning much more. All hunters do, if they are willing to study at it, but that is where the predictability ends. You see, a hunter only has three years to study their art, or edge if you will. It is enough time to perfect one skill, such as Eric’s ability to create, for lack of a better description, balls of fire, but through time and use he could improve upon that skill, and even learn new
one.”

“So he could learn how to… manipulate fire or control it in another way.”
She clarified.

“That is correct, and because he understands the sphere, he could teach himself the other skills, to a certain degree. Without consulting someone who truly knows and understands the sphere of fire, he could only archive a limited knowledge of other skills.
You see, the relationship between the mystic and the student doesn’t end when the student graduate the academy, oh no, it continues until the student is no longer a hunter, or the mystic is no longer a mystic, although for the most part, Hunters have limited interest in pursuing their arts any farther than their personal edge.”

“So
… you’re no longer his mystics.”

“Oh, give me some credit.” Morgan replied a bit flustered as he sipped his tea. “Eric is no longer one of my students, not that he ever really was. Sure I showed him how to control the edge that he possessed, but that was about it. It is not my place to judge who should and who shouldn’t be a hunter, but between you and me, it was a mistake to even let him back into the entry examination.”

“Then why was he?” She asked, although she kind of knew the answer already. His father was the cousin to the crown, and that carried quite a bit of weight.

“Mystics try to stay out of the affairs of state as well as those of the guild. We are simply here to assist in the training of the hunter in the use of their edge, but that is not important right now, what is important is you. You are different th
an Eric, well, let’s face it, you are different than most hunters.”

“Different? How?”

“As you know, you don’t fall into any sphere, and therefore your skill level is, currently… unknown. We have no way of knowing what you can and cannot do, or how far your skills can go or even what skills you can develop over time.”

“I can communicate with animals, I know that, I don’t see how much farther that can go.”

“Don’t you? When you arrived here, you weren’t even sure what your edge was, and neither did I, but within one year we have learned through a series of tests that you can communicate with the natural world, the fauna if you will and even control it if necessary. You’ve also told me about your heightened senses, your sense of smell, your sense of hearing, even your night vision has improved.”

“But you said those
were just me channeling Vesper, or the dogs.”

“I’m afraid that
was just a hypothesis, but I am not so sure it was an accurate one. Without further testing, or conclusive evidence we can only guess at the source of those abilities.”

“So
… my edge could be… changing me?”

“In a way
… yes.”

That was not something
she wanted to know, it was bad enough that her edge separated her from the other cadets in that she was different in what she could do, but if she became different in what she was, then what? She would truly be a freak on the inside as well as the out.

“I wouldn’t be too worried about it.” Morgan assured her. “I don’t think you’ll grow a tail and long ears overnight.”

“But you’re not sure.”

“Well… there were a few more experiments that I would have liked to try had we the time. The
alverie had a very strong connection with the natural world, and through further research, I have discovered a great deal about that connection and about some of the unique skills that a few of the alverie possessed, and I must say, some of them were quite fascinating.”

“What kind of
… skills?”

“I’m not saying that you possess all the skills,
no one alva possessed all the skills.”

“Then, what are we talking about?”

“Well, as you know there were some that could communicate with the flora of the natural world, the plants and the trees. Of course we know that you can not, at least not right now.”

Well, that was encouraging, sort of.

“Then of course there were the senses, there is some documentation of alverie that possess heightened senses of smell, taste, hearing, touch even vision. Similar to what you have claimed.”

“But they come and go, I don’t really have them, and I’ve never said anything about touch or taste.”

“Not yet, but there could be a time when it becomes apparent that you do possess these senses. Then there are also the mating and the pheromones.”

“I told you once we are not going there.”
She said.

“I am just pointing out the possibilities.”

“Then point out another.” She told him.

“Fine, how about
polymorphing?”

“Poly what?”

“Polymorphing, shape shifting, some legends claim that some alverie could take the form of animals.”

“Wait, you mean it is possible that I could grow a tail and ears.”

“I’m just stating the old alverian legends, it was so long ago, we don’t have any real proof, and legends can be misinterpreted.”

“I could wake up one day as a dog, or a… a  yarrow.”

“Well, I don’t think I would go that far, but… who knows. All I’m saying is that at this moment, your edge is unique, and because it is unique, we don’t know what form it could take. It is possible that you may experience other… abilities in time, ones that even the alverie have never written about, and if that does occur, I would expect you to come and seek me at the Tower so that we can explore and control these new skills.”

“Oh, yes… of course.” She said, although she didn’t really want to go back to the
Mystic Tower for any reason, especially not to be the subject of tests.

“So, now that I have explained what I needed to, do you have any question for me about your edge, or the mystic arts in general?” Morgan asked, sitting back in his chair and folding his hands in his lap.

She took a sip of her tea, which was now getting cold and didn’t improve the flavor much.

There were some things about the mystic arts she did want to know about, strictly out of curiosity. Her knowledge of the subject was very limited and although it still unnerved her, there were certain things that just plain confused her, but she knew that Morgan wouldn’t or couldn’t talk about them. Like how could Carter turn invisible, or how could Murphy change his body to stone and still be able to move. These small pieces of trivial information were probably covered by, what Morgan called, the Hunter/Mystic confidentiality, but there was one thing that had bothered her that maybe he could shed a brighter light on.

“I do have one question, although it doesn’t have anything to do with my edge.” She replied.

“And what would that be?”
He asked.

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