Lady Izne found the answer she expected. More so she had already seen it. When? That is known to her alone.
Anaphol’s exhaustion extended its grip into his physicality a bit more. His right knee wobbled in the slightest, nearly imperceptible.
To steady himself, he widened the gap between his feet.
The very same insouciant man, the one on the throne, unperturbed by the statements simply said. “Anaphol, you will learn eight lesios. The easiest ones by one of the greater myths of our continent.”
Emperor Stelart Kyeriftrian’s next three words carried the reverence the words meant for all who lived and died on Jhorime or for Jhorime.
“Rian no Tera.”
Anaphol felt his ears had heard that set of sounds being said before within this grand hall, yet back then to him it did not feel to carry that value Emperor Stelart was putting on it.
To him it felt as if the acceptance a priest of The One who Walked has of Him being true and the acceptance a mere novice follower has of Him.
The disparity of the beliefs connected to something he had shoved deeper in him. He knew what that was. And he pushed on it. Driving it deeper back within himself.
Svnyo could have sworn that she witnessed Lady Izne’s gaze to have swung for an instant to the spokesperson who had earlier mentioned Rian no Tera without a single drop of reverence.
She could only imagine what would the Hont lineage would do learning of this. ‘Oh, that poor man.’
Baronet Oliver of Verta hummed a cough. It got the attention because Lady Izne chose to give it.
He prayed to Rian no Tera for being listened to. “May our Verticia family,” he could feel his family’s stare on the back, “act as escorts and go in-betweens for the Highest family and the boy Anaphol.” He bowed since he glimpsed Lady Izne’s lips parting. “The children we have taken as our own are on their own journeys to learn of one of the essential lesio Rian no Tera the Hirto had learned first.”
His eyes glistened under the palpable pressure anyone here could wring out into pools upon pools of it. Like the father he was to children he believed were destined to be something he couldn’t imagine, he pushed himself to be the father they believed he is.
“Children who have faced all possible evils in a society are more likely to find a path to connect families that have never met each other eye to eye.” Oliver’s hope hinged on a saying attributed to have come from a follower of Rian no Tera the Hirto when he lived.
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Oliver did not see Lady Izne’s expression nor of Emperor Stelart. Anaphol took note.
‘She-ugh, she is…holding herself back? And the Emperor,’ he huffed as silently as he could manage, ‘his face softened. Who is Rian no Tera?’
Naph barely managed that within his mind.
It wasn’t Lady Izne or Emperor Stelart breaking the momentous silence. It was the same man that had spoken in between earlier, the one who reminded Lady Izne of her position.
“Which lesio would that be?” He spun to face Emperor Stelart, “Apologies, my Emperor.” He bowed with his right palm above his heart. His flock of hair falling over his head as he bowed.
Stelart’s head conveyed his calm understanding by a nod.
The man did not straighten for he did not see the nod. Yet, he knew of it happening. It was Lady Izne’s turn to break his act.
Thus, she simply twisted her left foot to him. The slightest she needed for this.
It was in perfect view of him. And he saw the thought she had adjusted into her regal shoe’s shine. The thought bound by a lesio and read through a lesio.
To Oliver, Anaphol, and the rest of the gathered audience, it lasted a mere moment. Words not spoken faster than the speed at which the man had spun and bowed.
Oliver answered, “The first lesio accepted to have been learned the most likely as the first.” He dramatized his breath. “Flight.”
One of the three distinct voices that had implied earlier they belonged to the ones representing the Great Pillars of Knowledge academies, bellowed. “Absolutely not!”
“And why is that, Professor Kilton of Sanctuary aspiring Proficiency and Wisdom?” Lady Izne shed the light on the man who had screamed. His lesio that had earlier hidden his position and face, were now in view of all.
Even in this audience Kilton knew who were his enemies in this empire, and who were Sanctuary aspiring Proficiency and Wisdom’s enemies. Oliver was neither but to the academy he was less than a cog of the vast empire.
Professor Kilton steadied his unfazed stance and began. “That is a sacred place meant to be witnessed by ones who abandons all hope to create it anew.” His hand flew and finger pointed at Naph. “This boy had not given up the last shred of hope. Nor is he not from Jhorime. I suggest he go to-”
“It is settled Anaphol will learn for a week at the academy called Sanctuary aspiring Proficiency and Wisdom of Aergylden. The first lesio to learn is flight.” Emperor Stelart’s eyes went from Kilton silencing under it to Oliver perspiring cold sweat. “And the children of Baronet Oliver Verticia will act as the intermediary for the week.”
Kilton’s heart froze. ‘This was unacceptable…no, is. But what did the people of Aergylden have that they could force their views.’ That was completely his view of the situations that concerned Anaphol and Ennet’s respective proposals and how it affected their world.
Lady Izne followed it after with her words only when a silent conversation passed between her and her younger brother-in-law Emperor Stelart Keyriftrian. “This audience is now dismissed.” Addressing Naph directly, “Anaphol, for now you too are dismissed. Guards will accompany you to the Plora’s wing of the castle. Rest well.”
Heaving profusely Naph managed half a nod before he collapsed on his ride. Mere glimpses of who led him away, where did he go and who else accompanied him went in and out of his consciousness.
The one thing he did not get to listen was directly addressed to Cryst as the audience of the grand hall began dismissing themself. “Cryst, the Highest family and His Council wish to hear the true proposal of Ennet as given to you.”
