Little over a month had passed. Dowyr was laying over the side of his bed listening to Weynon talk about his recent breakthrough in class where he managed to practically put everyone but the teacher to sleep. Peace couldn’t force someone asleep, but it could relax them almost to the point of it.

  I wish you could do that for me in here, Dowyr signed.

  “Yeah,” Weynon said. “It would be nice to channel down here, but rules are rules.”

  Dowyr rolled his eyes. More like voidstones are voidstones.

  He had been able to teach Weynon all the signs he knew between Emogic lessons, or sometimes even during them as Elethe let him join occasionally. He could only give so much before Weynon became mentally exhausted by the process, so it still took the last few weeks before they could have full conversations through signs. That made Elethe absorbing all his knowledge of them in a single go all the more terrifying to him. The power of Class 4s was hard to imagine. He still wasn’t sure how much she had learned about him from that, and was hesitant to ask for fear of what the answer might be. What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

  His own training sessions with Elethe had been strange. Since he had gained full control of his Emogic so quickly, all she had him do was use sensory manipulation on her to produce different kinds of illusions and sensations. In one instance, he made her see a horse enter the room, and when she went to pet it, he made her feel it too. For another session, she had him make her feel varying levels of pain. He thought she was some kind of masochist, but she claimed that it was only to know how real and intense he could make pain feel.

  Strangely he felt no satisfaction in hurting her, even if it was only through sensory manipulation, not actual injuries. In some way he thought he’d be glad to make her feel like she’d been slapped in the face, but instead he cringed at every blow he inflicted. Elethe appeared to take it all with high spirits, even managing to say things like, “Wow, that was a good one!” or a strained “Holy Heaven, that stung. Nice job!”

  Dowyr could only stare at her with concern. The alien was relentless. What was even more disturbing was the way he caught her staring at him, or through him more often than not. She looked to be stuck in a trance at times, her mind far away before snapping back to the classroom. He could’ve used telepathy to learn what was going on in her head, but she would’ve known what he was trying to do, and it wasn’t something he was even remotely interested in to begin with. A woman’s mind could remain a mystery for all he cared.

  Despite his showing that he had complete control, he was still not allowed out of the Academy yet. Other teachers insisted students needed the full three months before they were trained enough to be let out. Elethe had no authority in that regard, so anything she could have said about his progress was futile. At one point she turned to playing board games with him just to use up class time, having run out of ideas for his channeling, but it didn’t last long. She rarely won and accused him of cheating once or twice, though she would have known if he was channeling to win. Some days Elethe would spend the entire class period reading a book, bringing an extra for Dowyr. He rather liked those days. She usually brought something interesting to read, and sometimes he talked with her about the highlights, when she was awake anyway. Every few days she would simply fall asleep in her chair. It wasn’t a surprise to him; she looked tired every day. If anyone needed Weynon’s Emogic, it was her.

  “Are you listening?” Weynon asked.

  Dowyr blinked at him. Yes, he signed with a twitch of his thumb. Had he really gotten so lost in thought about classes with Elethe? No, that was impossible, he didn’t like her. The sight of her face filled him with disgust.

  “I can tell you’re lying, but it’s okay. How about we go get dinner?”

  Dowyr grunted in agreement and climbed down, but upon entering the hallway, they were met with what looked like the entire school walking briskly in the opposite direction of the mess hall. Dowyr spotted Dane and caught his attention with the wave of his arms, then signed, ???

  Emergency meeting, Dane signed in return without slowing his pace. Come. Important.

  “What do you think the emergency is?” Weynon asked.

  Dowyr shrugged but began following everyone else, Weynon trailing after him. They stayed on the first floor, and eventually the rush of movement slowed as people were cramming their way into the largest auditorium in the building. A good couple minutes passed before Dowyr and Weynon found seats, and almost by luck; the room was packed to overflowing. No one was on stage, which sat below the audience on the far end of the room. The auditorium’s seating was geared towards it in a half-circle, each row down a little lower than the last. Lightstones were mounted on poles around the stage and on every few levels of the stairs, glowing bright from all the movement and noise echoing from all directions as people buzzed about what was going on. Dowyr couldn’t make out anything specific from what people were saying. He thought Weynon said something, but despite being right next to him, he couldn’t hear.

  Use signs, Dowyr signed. Can’t hear.

  Loud, Weynon signed.

  Dowyr looked at him. You’re kidding.

  I don’t like loud.

  Me neither.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Dowyr grunted, and for not even being able to hear that, he began to repeatedly sign shut up! at everybody, and Weynon joined in by signing please be quiet. Not that anyone listened.

  Light poured in from the back of the stage as a small procession made its way into view, led first by the Headmaster of the Academy holding a staff with a fist-sized lightstone mounted atop it. Following him was what looked like other important administrators, and at least three men in military uniform. He couldn’t make out their faces from this distance.

  As soon as the procession stopped in the middle of the stage, the commotion slowly died down until Dowyr could only make out an occasional mumbling. The Headmaster’s gaze swept across the audience, and finally he spoke in a low voice.

  “I wish we were not here right now. All I can say is for you to listen closely, breathe, and remember your training. There are going to be some extensive changes here at the Academy, and I hope for them to be accepted willingly and courageously. I am immensely proud to have been your Headmaster, but as of today I am humbly stepping down—” That caused some stir, to which the Headmaster—or rather, now former Headmaster—responded with a raised hand until the audience went still. “—and relinquishing my position to Colonel Aggram.” He gestured to the most decorated military man. “It has been my pleasure to oversee this fine Academy, and I know it is being placed in good hands. The Colonel will now speak to you.”

  Weynon leaned over and whispered, “I think that’s Fenton’s dad.”

  The former Headmaster went to Aggram and handed over the lightstone-capped staff. Aggram stepped forward and spoke, his voice like a steel hammer.

  “There is no way to tell you this except plainly. The reason I am replacing former Headmaster Eldredge is because we are at war.” If the audience had been still before, now it was frozen. Nobody breathed. “The country of Kircany has moved into Parastenian territory and is pushing at our southern neighbors. Our troops are being deployed to secure the border as we speak. All Emogic training is to be reorganized to focus on those of you who may prove to be essential in winning the war. There will be no turning back. Zion’s Halberd has been invoked across the nation.” A wave of gasps washed across the audience. Dowyr only frowned, but he could feel a bitter pit form in his stomach. Weynon had a sickening expression. There was no channeling Peace in here. Aggram continued without pause. “We will all be gathering in here tomorrow morning to begin assigning new schedules by Emogic and Class. Get some dinner in you and a good night’s rest. We have a long day and a longer fight ahead of us. Sentinels be with you. Dismissed.”

  With the mood in the room, one would have thought he had just sent everyone to their graves. Most of the audience didn’t stir for at least a minute after Aggram and the others had disappeared off stage. Noise slowly built as people began speaking with friends and classmates about the news in hushed tones. Weynon was still staring at the stage, unblinking. Dowyr reached over and grabbed his hair, giving it a sharp tug.

  “Ow!” Weynon looked at him, shielding his hair. “What was that for?”

  Think of hurts now, not later, Dowyr signed. We won’t be recruited until we’re old enough anyway. At least that’s what he wanted to believe.

  I hope that’s true, Weynon signed. He looked around and finally noticed everyone getting up and leaving. “I don’t think I’m hungry.”

  The thought of food made Dowyr realize his mouth had gone dry. Me neither. Think I’ll go straight to bed.

  Weynon nodded, and they both got up and followed everyone out. On the way back to their rooms, Dowyr wondered where Elethe was and if she knew anything more about the war. He hoped that she wouldn’t immediately be sent off to fight, though considering she was a Class 3.9 Empath… well, perhaps if she was keeping that fact hidden as he suspected, then maybe…

  What if that’s the reason she keeps her strength a secret? Dowyr thought. It seemed a bit odd, because why would she have been avoiding being sent into a war for however long she’d been an Emogician? Unless she was just that frightened of the idea. No, that made no sense at all.

  Once in bed and the room’s lightstone dimmed, Dowyr found sleep difficult to come by. His mind kept spinning, bouncing back and forth between trying to understand why Elethe kept her strength a secret and what was going to happen because of the war. How much was going to change? Would he be separated from Weynon? What sort of training would he receive for the war? Everything felt up in the air, and he couldn’t take his own advice of thinking of today’s hurts. Tomorrow was a terrifying thing, and perhaps if he didn’t sleep, it would be slower in coming.

  He remembered long days back at the orphanage, when there was nothing new to read and no one to talk to. Things were simpler back then, but a life without Emogic seemed as fulfilling as eating stale bread.

  On the other hand, the prospect of being sent out to war on the front lines with only a weapon or two and his Emogic didn’t result in pleasant thoughts. There would be other Emogicians on the field, ones more powerful than him, ones who could cause the air to burst aflame and the earth to tear apart, or worse. Boredom was nothing compared to Rage or Fear. Should he ever cross a hostile Paranoia Emogician it would probably be best to find the quickest way to kill himself. There were reasons such Emogicians were named Apocalypses, Night Stalkers, and Nightmares.

  “Are you still awake?” Weynon asked.

  Dowyr nearly jumped out of bed at the sound, but he composed himself and hummed in reply.

  “I don’t think I can sleep. I don’t think I want to sleep. Maybe there are people dying right now, and I’m trying to fall asleep. I don’t like it.”

  Dowyr hummed again and climbed down, his movement causing the lightstone to brighten enough to see hand movements. He made sure Weynon was looking at him and signed, people are always dying.

  “I mean getting killed… you know… fighting. I don’t know. I’m a Class 3 Druid, what if I could stop some of it? I could help people. And nature. Animals don’t like… you know. I should be able to do something.”

  You will. Just keep being you.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Dowyr shrugged. Hard to explain with signs. The lightstone was already beginning to dim, so he quickly signed remember Elysium 8:31 before climbing back into bed. Though he didn’t care for The Five Sentinels, he at least hoped reminding Weynon of one of the more encouraging passages could help ease his mind.

  As for his own mind, he wasn’t sure what to think about to ease it. Zion’s Halberd being invoked was what he kept coming back to. He didn’t believe in the religious concept, but there were real-world consequences executed by those who did believe in it. At its core it simply meant, no running from the fight. Not a step back. If you ran away and were caught, you were arranged to be killed on a battlefield. If you somehow escaped a second time, you were killed on the spot to await Zion’s judgment. You give it your all for the righteous cause or die trying. Dowyr desperately wanted to run away from that. The religious fervor of Zion’s Halberd was a bottomless pit.

  I’ll just trick them, Dowyr thought. I’ll trick them to think I’m dead and escape.

  How he was going to do that, he didn’t know.