After the dramatic events and Rughsbourgh’s theatrics, Northern was eventually issued an official rank card – the standard identification bestowed upon all drifters.
It detailed whatever information was pertinent: name, talent, talent class, soul rank, and citadel affiliation if applicable.
Northern regarded his own card with a measure of disquiet, not entirely pleased by what he saw inscribed upon it.
While he had indeed been evaluated as “talentless,” the saving grace was Annette’s A+ evaluation grade.
That stellar assessment would plant seeds of doubt in the minds of any who might dare dismiss him as weak.
It didn’t make up for the talentless designation, but it was something.
Another boon that filled him with quiet elation – after all the turmoil, the diminutive figure of Rughsbourgh himself had spoken with Shin, penning a special letter of recommendation for Northern.
He was being offered a fully-sponsored scholarship to attend the Academy, expected to depart alongside Rughsbourgh in just two days’ time.
Shin had tried to dissuade him, but the wizened former Principal brushed aside his protestations with sly nonchalance.
“Since I am no longer the Academy’s head, such matters lie outside my jurisdiction. It is imperative that the North boy accompany me…so that I might vouch for him there, you understand.”
With those words, any further objection from Shin seemed futile.
They would have to let Northern go, for the ancient schemer’s machinations allowed no other recourse.
Knowing his son, Shin suspected the prospect of leaving them so soon after reuniting filled Northern with quiet anguish – they should strive to make the looming separation as bearable as possible.
Soon, they arrived back at their humble cottage, Shin slowing his stride to regard Northern with a heavy, paternal gaze.
“What is it?” Northern asked, his voice small and uncertain.
“I don’t know…” Shin sighed, shaking his head slowly. “You know how your mother can be. She’ll be heartbroken that you have to leave so soon. Two days…” His voice took on a bitter edge. “We never envisioned this at all.”
Northern’s eyes slid shut as he exhaled a weary breath.
“I understand, Father. I didn’t foresee it happening this quickly either. But this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity we may never have again if we let it slip through our fingers. I want nothing more than to remain by your sides for now…but I also yearn to grow strong enough to protect you both and become a man of substance in my own right. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
The words rang with sincerity, yet were still masterful lies interwoven with delicate threads of truth.
Shin’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as he brushed a sleeve across them, swallowing hard against the lump of bitterness in his throat.
“You’re so mature, you don’t even give this old man a chance to be a proper father. That’s just unfair.”
A small, reassuring smile tugged at the corner of Northern’s mouth as he reached out to pat his father’s arm consolingly.
Continuing down the road, the quaint cottage soon came into view, three steeds tethered to the wooden fence that demarcated the modest dwelling.
One was a shaggy, coal-black beast that put Northern uncomfortably in mind of the feral creature they’d encountered just yesterday.
No sooner had the sound of their approach reached Eisha’s ears than the radiant woman emerged, a brilliant smile lighting up her features. That warm expression swiftly dimmed, however, as she took in Shin’s somber countenance.
The dusky glow of evening descended, shrouding the countryside in a melancholy pall as Shin quietly relayed the bittersweet news, prompting Eisha’s eyes to well with sorrowful tears.
Elsewhere…
“I fail to comprehend your reasoning for extending such a generous offer to that boy,” Gilbert said, shaking his head. “Regardless of the anomalies, his evaluation clearly marked him as talentless. By all metrics, he is talentless.”
“But you saw it with your own eyes,” Rughsbourgh countered calmly. “He possesses the ability to clone himself.”
Gilbert scoffed. “It could have been any manner of illusion or trick, an isolated anomaly at best. You cannot be seriously entertaining-”
“Gilly…” Rughsbourgh cut him off, his piercing gaze remaining fixed upon the cracked crystal pillar as he idly stroked his chin. “This crystal construct…I gifted it to you, did I not?”
Caught off guard by the non-sequitur, Gilbert could only respond with a confused, “Yes…”
“And if I recall correctly,” the diminutive figure mused, “it originated from a Tier V rift, yes?”
An odd chill rippled down Gilbert’s spine at the Ancient’s eerily tranquil tone. “Y-Yes, that’s correct.”
A weighted silence stretched between them before Gilbert felt compelled to prompt, “Why do you ask?”
“Gilly…” When Rughsbourgh spoke again, his reedy voice seemed to freeze the very air around them.
“This crystal is meant to be indestructible. Crafting it required the combined efforts of myself and two other vagrant-rank drifters to extract it from its primal source.”
Gilbert’s eyes flew wide as profound implications blossomed in his mind.
“That…that should be impossible…”
“Precisely, Gilly.” A slow, unsettling smile curved Rughsbourgh’s lips as his small hand traced the hairline fractures.
“For a mere walker, to inflict such damage should be utterly impossible.”
The words hung heavy between them as the wizened scholar murmured, “‘It’s essence has been drained by nearly half.”
Rughsbourgh’s smile bloomed into a full, childlike peal of laughter that echoed dissonantly through the chamber as he staggered away from the crystal, leaving Gilbert to gape at him in utter bewilderment.
To the grizzled drifter8 understanding, such an event should have been a dire omen – a potential sign that this unassuming youth concealed abilities and power unfathomable for one so newly awakened.
Perhaps he was a foreign agent, a drifter of immense skill masquerading as a novice?
Even in their enlightened era, new talents still surfaced to mystify the masses.
This should have been cause for grave alarm and thorough investigation from the High Mages…
Yet Rughsbourgh clearly did not share his trepidation, his manic amusement all too apparent.
When at last the eerie laughter subsided, the ancient academic turned to regard Gilbert, a deeply unsettling grin still playing about his lips.
“Gilly… In all that you do, I want you to keep the keenest of observations trained upon that boy. I have the most peculiar feeling about him – it could manifest in any number of ways. But rest assured, I intend to retain full control over whatever destiny awaits him.”
In that moment, the full, horrifying depth of Rughsbourgh’s aims finally dawned on Gilbert. His voice emerged as a strangled rasp.
“You…you mean to send him to the Dark Continent? Without even informing his parents?”
Rughsbourgh’s nonchalant shrug spoke volumes.
“I care nothing for such trivialities. The boy is special – he belongs among my other…special acquisitions.”
Gilbert’s brow furrowed as realization set in like a leaden pit in his gut.
“No…you’re not merely intrigued. You’re wary of him – you fear whatever potential he may represent. You want me to either tame him…or discard him entirely.”
Rughsbourgh paused, angling his head to meet Gilbert’s gaze over his bony shoulder.
The cold, grim determination etched onto his childlike visage sent an involuntary shudder racing down the hunter’s spine.
“I’m pleased you’ve grasped the nuances of your task,” the ancient figure intoned flatly. “I expect nothing less than monumental things from you and your team, Gilbert. For all our sakes.”
With those ominous words hanging in the air, Rughsbourgh spun on his heel and strode from the chamber without a backwards glance, leaving Gilbert alone with his sickening sense of dread and rapidly-splintering convictions.
