Chapter 21
The Rune
The streets of Mandrake were cloaked in the soft darkness of night, the only light provided by the gentle glow of lanterns swaying in the calm breeze. Adom and Sam walked in comfortable silence, their shadows stretching long behind them. The egg, safely nestled in a cloth within Adom's satchel, gave off a faint warmth that was reassuring in the cool night air. They parted ways with a simple nod, each lost in their thoughts about the evening's surreal events.
Adom's room at Xerkes Academy was a stark contrast to the lively tavern and the mystical atmosphere of the Weird Stuff Store. It was plain and functional, with a bed, a desk, and the few personal items he held dear. But tonight, it felt like a sanctuary.
Without turning on the light, Adom walked over to his mirror. The moonlight streaming through the window cast a silver sheen over his reflection. He hesitated for a moment, his heart racing with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. Slowly, he lifted the back of his shirt, turning to get a better view of his back in the mirror.
The pain from the bonding had indeed subsided, but what caught his eye left him breathless. There, on his skin, was a symbol – a complex arrangement of lines and curves interlocking in an intricate pattern. It looked like a rune, one he had never seen in any of his magical texts or during his studies. Its design was reminiscent of a cycle or a wheel, suggesting movement and continuity.
Adom traced the mark with his finger, the texture raised slightly against his skin. It was as if the symbol had been etched into him, a permanent reminder of the bond he had formed with the phoenix. The rune was captivating, darker colour at some parts, composed of an elegant symmetry that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. Each line and curve intertwined with the next, creating a harmonious whole that was complex yet inexplicably complete.
He squinted, leaning closer to the mirror, but no matter how he racked his brain, he could not decipher its origin or meaning. It was a mystery, much like the phoenix egg itself and the enigmatic Mr. Biggins.
With a sigh, Adom dropped his shirt back into place and moved away from the mirror. There was no use pondering the symbol at this hour. He needed rest; the day had been long, and the morrow would likely bring its own set of challenges.
As he lay in bed, the events of the day replayed in his mind. The duel with Damus, the confrontation with his own limits, the emergence of the phoenix egg, and now this mysterious symbol – it was all overwhelming.
Adom closed his eyes, letting the fatigue wash over him. The symbol on his back seemed to radiate a gentle heat, a constant connection to the phoenix whose fate was now intertwined with his own. And as sleep finally claimed him, Adom couldn't shake the feeling that his life had irrevocably changed. The path ahead was unknown, and the rune on his back was a testament to the new variable he had unwittingly added. His eyes gently closed as the din of the crowd faded into the background. Within the quiet sanctuary of his mind, numbers began to dance in a sequence only he could follow. He started counting, not in the straightforward manner most would expect, but in uneven jumps that created a complex tapestry of figures and patterns. Each number was a step, each calculation a leap into realms of thought few could navigate with ease. This exercise, a habit born from a lifetime of intellectual rigor, was his pathway to tranquility, guiding him away from the chaos of the outside world into the serene embrace of unconsciousness.
*****
Adom's sleep was a tapestry woven with visions of fiery wings and cryptic runes, a restless slumber that spoke of the profound changes stirring within him. When he awoke, the first rays of dawn were filtering through his window, casting a soft golden light across the room.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Adom went about his morning routine with mechanical precision. He brushed his teeth, the minty freshness jolting him fully awake. The shower's warm cascade was a soothing balm, washing away the remnants of his dreams and the unease they carried. After a quick breakfast of bread and cheese, he dressed in his academy robes, the fabric feeling heavier, as if it carried the weight of the previous day's revelations.
Stepping out into the corridor, Adom felt a ripple of awareness spread through the students. Their whispers became a cacophony of admiration, curiosity, and suspicion that filled the halls of Xerkes Academy. "That's him," some said, pointing discreetly as he passed. "The one who fought Damus."
Others were more cautious, their words laced with doubt and apprehension. "My mom's a healer, and she says his recovery is impossible. Maybe he used forbidden magic..." they murmured just within earshot, casting sidelong glances in his direction.
Adom sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly under the weight of their gazes. He understood that human nature was drawn to speculation, especially in the face of the unexplainable. Still, he couldn't help but wish for a respite from the relentless scrutiny.
As he walked toward the hall where the Magic Physics exam was to be held, the younger first years stepped aside, their eyes wide with a mixture of respect and fear. He could hear their hushed tones as he passed, "That's Adom Sylla. He stood up to Damus Rolland."
The second-year students, his peers, were less overt in their reactions, but their curiosity was no less intense. They greeted him, some introducing themselves, while others whispered among themselves, piecing together the rumors and truths of his duel.
Even the upperclassmen, usually too preoccupied with their advanced studies to pay much mind to underclassmen, took notice. They nodded to him as he walked by, their expressions betraying a newfound recognition of his presence.
Adom's mood lifted as he caught sight of Sam, his friend's familiar face a welcome respite from the flood of attention. Sam's wave, easy and amiable, cut through the noise of whispers and speculation, grounding Adom back to the simpler relationships he valued. They greeted each other with a smile, Sam’s voice was low, cautious of eavesdropping ears. “How’s the... thing?” he asked, a hint of excitement in his tone.
Adom glanced around before leaning in, his reply equally subdued. “It’s fine. Quiet. Still under my bed.” His casual demeanor belied the profound significance of the egg's existence.
Sam's response was laced with a mix of humor and curiosity. "I'll come by to visit it after the exam, see if it's hatched or something," he joked, making Adom chuckle at the notion of the egg being like a newborn awaiting attention.
Despite the egg's dormant state, Adom was acutely aware of its importance. The weight of the future it represented loomed in his mind, but he was adept at compartmentalizing his thoughts, especially with immediate matters like the plan demanding his focus.
Their conversation was interrupted by Mia's approach. She moved with an effortless grace that drew eyes even in the crowded hallway. "How are you holding up, Adom?" she asked, her concern genuine.
“I’m good, thanks,” Adom replied, his voice steady. He was inwardly chuckling, reflecting on his past infatuation with her. As a boy, Mia had been his unattainable ideal, her mere presence enough to tie his tongue into knots.
Mia seemed to sense the change in him. She stepped closer, her gaze searching his. “You’ve changed, Adom,” she observed softly, her eyes locked onto his. “Somehow, you feel... older.”
Adom's reaction was a mere flicker of a smile, the vast years of his true age a hidden ocean beneath the still surface. "Careful, Mia," he teased with a lightness he had never possessed in his younger days. "Keep looking at me like that, and I might just fall for you. Will you take responsibility?"
Mia was silent at first, staring at Adom, then her laughter rang out, clear and genuine, provoking a few stares from some male students in the vicinity. “I didn’t know you had such a sense of humor, Adom. And here I thought you were all serious about sorcery,” she said, her amusement apparent.
“I’m thinking of becoming a stand-up comedian if sorcery doesn’t work out,” Adom quipped, keeping the light-hearted tone between them.
Her laughter faded into a soft smile. “I like this new Adom,” she said, before heading back toward the class. “I'll head back before the exam starts, we should talk more later.”
As Mia walked away, Sam turned to Adom, his expression one of utter bewilderment. “Did you just flirt with Mia Arristide? And made her laugh? Twice?” he asked, his voice an octave higher in disbelief.
Adom's smile was serene, a stark contrast to the shock on Sam's face. "It seems so," he said. "Though it's easy when you see the world through the eyes of experience."
Sam shook his head, a mix of admiration and disbelief coloring his features. "I've got to learn your secret, man."
Adom laughed, the sound rich with the depth of his many years. "Maybe one day, Sam. But for now, let's focus on acing this exam."
Adom settled into the familiar wooden chair, its creak a soft whisper in the hushed examination room. A comfortable silence enveloped him like an old friend’s embrace. Across the aisle, Sam's concerned eyes met his. A nudge of the elbow, a whispered question, a furrowed brow - all betrayed Sam's worry. "Hey, I know you've got this new vibe, but aren’t you a bit too relaxed? You've missed all the revisions since you were in Kati. You sure you'll be okay?"
Adom’s smile was a silent reassurance, a calm sea amidst Sam’s rising waves of anxiety. The unspoken message clear – trust me. When Sam persisted, his voice tinged with the stress of a friend shouldering another's burden, Adom finally spoke, his tone a gentle balm. "Yeah, yeah, don't worry. It's all good."
As the exam commenced, a paper laden with questions lay before him, each one a trivial challenge to a mind sharpened by years of experience. To Adom, the test was less a measure of his knowledge and more a formality to maintain the façade of a student. A slight, almost imperceptible shake of his head was the only sign of his inner amusement.
Around him, the exam evoked a spectrum of reactions. Desperate sighs punctuated the silence, pens scratched furiously, and the air thrummed with concentration. One student had even succumbed to the pressure, their head resting against the desk in surrender to sleep.
Adom’s performance in this subject had always been exemplary, his name often etched among the top three, sometimes even eclipsing Mia’s scores. This academic dance had brought him the irked attention of Mia's fan club, the "Mia Cult" – a group that worshiped her intellect and beauty with an almost religious fervor. Mia herself found this annoying, a testament to the fact that beauty and talent could indeed be a double-edged sword.
Amidst the fervent scribbling and rustling of papers, Professor Minos, a satyr with a reputation for strictness, caught Adom’s momentary distraction. A sharp gesture, a pointed look – keep your eyes on your paper. Adom returned to his exam, his pen moving with a fluid grace that belied the ease with which he tackled each question.
Fifteen minutes – that was all it took for Adom to complete what was meant to be a three-hour mental marathon. Standing up, he handed his paper to Professor Minos, who regarded him with a mix of suspicion and resignation.
Sam’s eyes followed Adom, his expression one of shock. Adom offered a casual wave, the corners of his mouth lifted in a silent goodbye, and then he was out the door, his steps measured, his mind clear. Next was the meeting with Professor Mohagan.
