Stream

Why can't my life ever be simple? Crying Stream mused as he went over a pile of student papers. As the philosophy instructor for a school full of wealthy patrician and dynast children, he was forced to walk a very fine line. He saw it as his duty to introduce some flexibility into his pupils' otherwise hopelessly rigid world view, but at the same time he was forced to be extremely careful about what he taught, lest he offend the Immaculate Order. He shuddered. At the slightest whiff of heresy the Immaculates would descend upon the school, and circumstances being what they were, he did not want to attract their scrutiny.

The Order of the Immaculate Dragons served as the state religion of the Empire. The basic tenets of the order were fairly straightforward. The Immaculate monks believed that as a soul walked the road to enlightenment, they would be reincarnated numerous times. Each incarnation would bring the individual closer to the perfection of the five Elemental Dragons, the beings that were said to slumber at the five elemental poles. It was the Elemental out anything Dragons, the order proclaimed, that granted the Dragon-Blooded their powers, and the Dragon-Blooded themselves, were the farthest along the path of ultimate enlightenment. All others, the order claimed, must therefore obey the Dragon-Blooded. The order also spent much of its time and energy stamping that even resembled heresy, and hunting those it proclaimed Anathema. To this end the Immaculate Order trained warrior-monks, Dragon-Blooded immeasurably skilled in the martial arts.

The Empire itself, Stream reflected, was only really in control of the Blessed Isle. The Threshold, the continental landmass surrounding the Isle, was only partially loyal to the realm. The lands surrounding the Inland Sea were the most likely to be loyal, but as a person traveled farther away from the Isle, the lands became more independent, less likely to pay tribute to the Empire, or subscribe to the beliefs of the Immaculate order. Farthest from the realm were the Elemental Poles of fire to the south, water to the west, air to the north, and wood to the east. The Elemental Pole of earth stood at the very center of the Realm, stabilizing the known world with its influence. To the west was a massive sea, home to a chain of islands. The far north was a frozen wasteland, and the far south, a sweltering desert. To the direct east were the scavenger lands, a series of independent city-states.

So why, Stream asked himself, of all the places he could have gone, did he chose to remain in the heart of the Empire, where he was in the most danger? And why, of all the occupations he could have chosen, did he become a teacher? He sighed in both frustration and exhaustion. He hadn't slept much that night. Come to think of it, he hadn't slept at all, unless he counted the hour-long nap he had taken earlier. He had spent most of his time deep in his personal research, and now he was spending the rest of his time looking over his student's work.

He was still shuffling through the sheets of parchment when he heard a knock at his door. He looked out the window. The sun was just peaking over the horizon, which meant that the students would be awake.

"Enter." He called out absentmindedly, but when he looked up from his work he found that it was not a student as he had expected. Instead the school's dominie stood at his door. Stream got up from his desk with a start. "Dominie, forgive me…" he began, but she silenced him with a wave of her gnarled hand.

"Please sit down, Instructor." She said as she entered his office, leaning on her cane. She walked the few steps from the door, carefully avoiding the books and manuscripts that were strewn over the floor, and seated herself across the desk from Stream. She looked intently at him for a moment before speaking again. "In the years that you have been an instructor here, I have noticed that you have certain… opinions about the Immaculate Order, that are a little, shall we say… unorthodox?" Stream opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off again. "No, don't deny it. I know you have no love for the Order, but I will not ask why." Seeing his worried expression she attempted to calm him. "Do not worry, Instructor Stream, I will not report you to them, I have no intention of losing one of my more talented teachers."

He took several deep breaths and tried to calm his wildly beating heart. "Then why are you here?" he asked cautiously.

The dominie adjusted her grip on her cane before responding. "A small group from the Immaculate Order is visiting our school, and I would not want you to say or do anything that might be an embarrassment to us." She looked around the office. "And please, do something about this mess."

Stream smiled in relief. "Don't worry Dominie, that won't be a problem."

She nodded to him and then stood. "There will be no morning exercises for the human children, our visitors want to make an announcement and they want the instructors present. I believe that they have already spoken with the Dragon-Blooded children."

She began to walk towards the exit, but Stream called out to her. "Dominie, who are they exactly?"

She stopped at the door and turned to look at Stream. "I am not certain, but I believe they belong to the Wyld Hunt."

At her words, Stream felt a cold weight descend in the pit of his stomach. "Thank you, Dominie." He said weakly. She nodded to him and left.

Stream sank back into his chair a feeling of dread threatening to overwhelm him. How had they found out? His hands were shaking. He tried to calm himself enough to think clearly. He started to formulate an escape plan, but then stopped himself. "No," he whispered to himself "Think about this logically." If the wild hunt had found out about him they would have descended without warning in the night. They certainly would not have made any sort of announcement to the students. They were here for another reason. Most likely their seers had foreseen the rebirth of a Solar Anathema. If that was the case, Steam thought as began to pick papers off of his floor, then he would have to do something to help this new Exalt. That was, after all, they only reason he had chosen to remain on the Blessed Isle, to find others of his kind and help them escape the Dragon-Blooded hunters.

Stream lifted a stack of books and set them back on the shelf were they belonged. He looked around his office, it was far from clean, but it would have to do. He crouched down to look under his desk, running his fingers over the floor until he found a small knothole. He put his hand on the surface of the wood and channeled wisps of energy into the minor enchantments he had placed there. He felt the traps dissipate and lifted the wooden plank. He carefully brushed aside a thin layer of dust that had collected over the top book. He pulled several old tomes from the secret compartment before finding what he was looking for. Stream pulled a coarsely woven cloak from the compartment and ran his fingers over the weaving. Small threads of metal ran through the cloth, shimmering in the early morning light.

Stream pulled the cloak over his shoulders, and then replaced the other contents of the compartment, placed the board back into place and then reworked the minor trapping enchantments back into the wood. He found a second cloak, the one he usually wore and placed that over the one he had taken from the compartment. It was a little warm for this weather, but it would have to do.

Stream strode from his room and down the corridor. He stopped to look out from the one of the windows. The School of Gainful Learning was built around a series of courtyards. Some, like the one bellow, were made for simple aerobic exercises. Other contained archery ranges, fountains, swimming pools, and whatever else the builders had deemed necessary additions to a foremost school for the education of the wealthy and privileged. The classrooms, offices, and dormitories were situated in the buildings surrounding the courtyards. Guards, armed with long bows or similar weapons, usually patrolled the rooftops and walls that looked down onto open areas, in order to protect the students from assassins. The school grounds also contained fields and small woods, used for battle practice or various competitions. Surrounding everything was a massive wall with only two gates, patrolled day and night by more guards. Teachers and staff, were of course, free to come and go as they pleased. Students could only leave the grounds on the last of every seven days, when their family was allowed to visit, and then only when accompanied by a family member.

Stream had noticed that the dynasts rarely came to visit their children, unless they intended to berate the child for some sort of failure, usually because the child had not reached Exaltation and become one of the Dragon-Blooded. For the patricians, the pressures were not so extreme. They were not expected to become Dragon-Blooded as the dynasts were, and that, Stream mused, was much more realist, since the vast majority of students did not Exalt.

The students had just finished assembling in the yard below. They had arranged themselves, facing a platform at the front of the yard, with the youngest students in front and the oldest in the back.

Stream watched as two stragglers ran one of the dormitories and joined their respective rows. After a moment, Stream recognized one of them as Cynis Dalla, a surprisingly kindhearted dynast of a house known for its foothold in the slave trade. The other one Stream remembered in an instant. Sesus Malakai tended to leave a lasting impression on those who met him. The boy stood just over average height, and was of fairly muscular build. His hair was an intense red found only among well-bred members of dynastic families associated with the element of fire, and his eyes were jet black. However, it wasn't his physical appearance that set him apart from his peers. The young Sesus had a sort of intensity, a force of character, which seemed to command both attention and respect. Unfortunately, he also had a dangerously short temper.

Crying Stream watched the students for a moment longer before heading down to join the other instructors. As he and the other instructors followed the dominie out into the sunshine, Stream kept a careful watch over the Hunters as the dominie addressed the students, but as the dominie droned on about proper respect, Stream's attention began to wander. As he scanned the crowd he noticed that Sesus Malakai was not standing in his usual stiff attention. As he watched, the student began to sway in place. For a moment Malakai looked up at Stream, and then his eyes glazed over.

No, not now! Stream thought to himself as he realized what was happening. He couldn't imagine a worse time for the boy to Exalt.

As the dominie dismissed the younger students, Stream used the momentary distraction to duck back inside the building. The best he could hope for would be a chance to distract the Wyld Hunt. Hopefully Malakai would have the presence of mind to run when given the opportunity.

Stream said a prayer to the Unconquered Sun that no one would notice his absence, as he bolted up a flight of stairs. He kept moving through the corridors, taking turn after turn, until he found an empty classroom. He closed the door behind him and approached one of the windows. Below him he could see the hunter's leader giving a speech.

"We are here hunting an Anathema." The man said. He waited a moment for the children's gasps to subside. "I hope that you will all do your duty and report any unusual occurrences…" he trailed off. His eyes locked on Malakai, who was clutching his head, his breathing erratic. The students nearest the boy began to back away. Malakai let out a scream of agony, and began to fall.

Time seemed to slow down for the briefest instant. Before he hit the ground, Malakai caught himself, and then it happened. As the boy began to straighten, a brilliant golden light leapt up around him taking form above. Stream jumped back from his window in surprise, as the boy's anima formed into a towering, armored figure. As he boy straightened, so did the figure and from its back sprung massive silver wings. Someone screamed, and cries of "Anathema" came from the crowd.

Stream approached the window again. The Dragon-Blooded were advancing on the boy. The dominie ordered the instructors to get the children out of the courtyard, but neither the boy, nor the Dragon-Blooded noticed.

Stream looked down at the boy, trying to get a clear view at his forehead. In the middle of the boy's brow was a simple golden circle. Stream inhaled sharply. The boy was a member of the Zenith Caste.

Malakai looked scared now. He was backing off from the approaching Hunters. They exchanged words; but Stream couldn't hear what was being said. A weapon of pure light appeared in the boy's hand, and the leader attacked. Malakai deflected the assault, but another Dragon-Blooded came up from behind the boy, and Stream was certain he was done for. At the last possible second the boy ducked and turned, swinging out with his glowing blade, gutting his opponent.

Stream looked up. He saw an Immaculate Monk standing on top of the wall across the courtyard, preparing to jump down and join the battle. He had to help the boy soon. No child, no matter powerful could stand against an Immaculate martial artist. Stream began to gather nearly all of his internal essence in preparation for a simple spell, but he knew it would take time.

Below Stream's window, the leader attacked a second time, and Malakai moved out of the way. This time, however, the boy countered. Stream flinched as the boy's blade cut through his opponent's armor and neck. In the air above the battle, the behemoth flared its wings, easily over-shadowing the Dragon-Bloodeds' weaker animas.

The monk, having jumped from the wall, attacked the moment the boy's back was turned. Stream saw tendrils of essence leave Malakai's body as the monk struck the boy. He knew it was time to finish his spell. He chanted a few words under his breath and felt the energy gather in-between his hands. He released the spell and it sped off into the group of Dragon-Blooded. It exploded in a bright yellow nova, hurtling them back, but leaving Malakai unharmed.

The boy did as Stream had hoped; he tried to escape. Stream watched him hurtle though a wall before going after turning to leave the classroom. He needed to find the boy quickly. His spell would only serve to stun the remaining hunters for a moment. They would soon be up and searching for the boy, and with the display he was leaving in his wake, he wouldn't be very hard to find. Fortunately this worked to Stream's advantage as well. It did not take him long to find the boy among the now nearly deserted corridors.

Stream came up behind Malakai and pinned him to a wall. The boy began to struggle, but Stream whispered to him, "Quiet, I'm a friend," and the boy stopped trying to escape.

The boy turned around, "Instructor?" he breathed in surprise.

Stream shushed him. He pulled the coarse cloak from his shoulders and wrapped it around Malakai. At once the metal threads began glow and Malakai's anima banner subsided, leaving only a pale golden glow. Malakai looked like he was about to ask a question, but Crying Stream shook his head. "No questions, just come." He said as he gestured for the young Sesus to follow him. He led Malakai through the mess hall and into the kitchens.

"Where are you taking me?" The boy asked as his former instructor walked to the back of the kitchens.

"To the cellars." Stream responded.

"The cellars?" Malakai said, shocked. "Why?"

"There's a tunnel there that leads outside the school complex. I discovered it when I was slightly younger then you are now." Stream responded as he pulled a door open. "Come on."

"You went to this school?" Malakai asked, and Stream only nodded.

The two of them made their way down into the cellars and past stacks of boxes. As they walked farther into the complex of storage rooms, the dust became thicker and the wood that held the boxes together more decayed.

Malakai sneezed. "When was the last time someone was down here?"

"Not in many years, I hope."

Malakai followed Crying Stream past a stack of boxes. There at the very end of the room there was a pile of rubble hidden from view by the old crates.

"Help me move these." Stream said as he tried to push some of the crates out of the way. "It took me and two friends to put them there, I can't move them on my own."

Malakai put his hands on the crates and pushed them with surprising ease, revealing a long passageway. Stream blinked. "Impressive." He said as he led his former student though the tunnel.

The passage meandered for some distance, and the two men walked only by the weakened light of Malakai's anima. Finally the faith glare of daylight greeted them as the tunnel sloped upwards. Stream pushed an overgrowth of foliage out of the way and helped Malakai out of the tunnel and into a small forest just east of the school compound.

"If you run east for about ten minutes, you'll come upon a small cottage, you can hide there. Just don't remove that cloak until the threads stop glowing." Stream turned to leave, but Malakai put a hand on his arm.

"You're going to leave me?" The boy was obviously scared.

The older man put his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Just for a short time. There are some things I need to get. Now go, the longer you stay here the greater the risk."

*******

As Crying Stream walked the hallways of the school towards his room the last person he expected to run into was the school's dominie with the Immaculate Monk in tow. The old woman called out to him.

"Instructor Stream! Where were you? You disappeared after…" She stopped after taking in the disheveled state of his robes.

"My apologies, Dominie. I was separated from the group and spent my time trying to avoid that… boy." Stream said cautiously.

The monk stepped in front of the dominie before she could respond. By the look on her face, Stream could tell that she was not accustomed to being treated so rudely. "Did you happen to see where the Anathema disappeared to?" he asked Stream.

"Yes, I saw him crossing the western-most field. I think he was heading to the wall." He lied.

"Please hurry," the dominie told the Dragon-Blooded monk curtly, "I don't think the guards are prepared to deal with him if he chooses to attack"

"What do you know about this boy?" The monk asked suspiciously, ignoring the dominie.

"Not very much, he was one of my students, but I didn't know him very well." He sighed. "I certainly didn't expect this from him. I think some of the other children might be able to tell you more." The monk regarded Stream for a moment before walking away without another word.

"Thank you, instructor Stream." The dominie nodded to him and went to follow the monk.

Stream sighed in relief and continued to his rooms.

*******

When Crying Stream finally reached the cabin, he found Malakai asleep in a chair. He had brought the few possessions he intended to take with him, including the tomes he had taken from their hiding place. He set his bag next to a crude loom he had set up some time ago, when he first began using the cabin as a workshop. He walked over to check on the sleeping dynast. Malakai shifted fitfully in his sleep but didn't waken.

Stream had first found the ruined cabin in his youth, when he and his two closest friends had sneaked out of the school to do some exploring. When he had returned as a teacher, he had sought out the cabin again and converted it into a workshop. It was far from luxurious, but it was secure and at the moment, it was exactly the sort of shelter the young Exalt needed.

Stream took some food out of his bag and was about to put it away when he heard Malakai starting to get up. He turned and ended up looking into the young man's sacred eyes. "So you're awake. I'm sorry I had to abandon you, but I had some business at the school to resolve. I'm certain you have a lot of questions, but first thing's first, we both need to eat."

"Why did you help me?" Malakai blurted out.

Stream smiled. "I though we were going to leave the questions for later." He rummaged though his bag and pulled out some bread and a hunk of cheese. "I helped you because I recognized one of my own kind."

Malakai's eye widened. "You're an Anathema? Like me?" he asked, his voice shaking.

Stream frowned. He put down the food he was holding, and crossed the room to stand in front of Malakai. He took the boy's chin in his hand and stared hard into his eyes. "Never call yourself that. Anathema is just a name that the Dragon-Blooded gave to those more powerful then they."

If it was possible, Malakai's eyes got even wider. "More powerful?"

At that Stream laughed and released the boy. "Child, you just defeated two full grown Dragon-Blooded. How can you have any doubts that you are more powerful?"

Malakai pulled the coarse cloak tighter around his body. Stream sighed.

"I guess I had better start from the beginning." Stream said as he picked up the food again and began to cut it into pieces on a table. "Your idiotic history instructor should at least have told you the basics." He grumbled to himself.

"The world was originally formed out of a substance called the Wyld. This is pure chaos. Out of this born all of the earliest beings, called primordials. Humanity was likewise also born from the Wyld, but was enslaved from the beginning by the primordials. The Unconquered Sun, the greatest of all the old gods, saw this and chose to change it. He, the Lady Luna, the Five Maiden Planets, and the Five Elemental Dragons chose from among humanity the most virtuous mortals and granted them Their power so that the Chosen could rescue human kind from the grip of the primordials.

"Those who were blessed by the Elemental Dragons were called the Terrestrial Exalted, though you now know them as the Dragon-Blooded. Despite what they tell the world about being the 'Princes of the Earth' they were, in fact, the foot soldiers of the first age, and the weakest of all the Exalted. Above them stood the three kinds of Celestial Exalted." He continued as he placed the cheese and bread on plates. "Those blessed by the five Maidens were known as the Sidereal, and they were seers and advisors to the first realm. Above the Sidereal stood the Lunar Exalted, and they were shape-shifters and the lieutenants of the first realm. Finally the leaders of the first realm and the most powerful of all of the Exalted were those blessed by the Unconquered Sun himself, the Solars.

"At the end of the first age, the Unconquered Sun turned his back on the Solar Exalted because many had become hedonistic, and lacked compassion. The Dragon-Blooded, who while they were the weakest of the Exalted, were also the greatest in numbers, rose up against the Celestials. They betrayed and murdered their masters because they believed that what they were doing was for the good of all humanity. It was, it seems, the Sidereal that had instructed them to do so, though to what end, I do not know.

"However, after the Dragon-Blooded seized control of the realm, the barriers that had protected the world from the encroachment of the Wyld weakened, and a disease, known as the Great Contagion, swept down upon the cities. It is said that nine out of every ten men died of the contagion." Stream added some meat to the plates. "And then the Fair Folk attacked. They are, as you should already know, creatures born from nearly pure Wyld energies. They attacked from all of the edges of he world where the Wyld still exists even today. The Dragon-Blooded armies didn't stand a chance." He filled pair of wooden goblets with wine.

"Then from nowhere the Scarlet Empress appeared. She took control of the ancient protections that Solars had put into place. She drove the Fair Folk back into the Wyld and declared herself Empress. She forged an entire government, and formed the Wyld Hunt to chase down any reborn Celestials that might challenge her authority. She restored some order to the world, even if it will never again compare to the glories of the first age. She has ruled for seven-hundred years now, which makes her the oldest living Dragon-Blooded. She was also, your ancestor, but I think you already know that." Stream handed a plate and a goblet to Malakai. "I think that's enough of a history lesson for now. Eat up, and then get some more rest, tomorrow is going to be a long day for both of us."