There was no doubt that something major was going on. Palag had instantly been taken to the bishop’s building, where he’d been made to wait outside the chambers, all the time under the escort of two clerics. None of them said a word, and seeing their stern expressions, the fury decided to do the same. However, thanks to his natural skills, he was able to hear part of the conversation taking place in the neighboring room.

“You’re sure he’s not faking it?” the bishop asked.

“I checked twice,” a woman replied. It was the same that had taken Palag into the monastery to begin with, although he still couldn’t remember her name. “There’s no mistaking it. He’s awakened alright, and with magic.”

“Awakening that late… is he an otherworlder?”

“No,” the woman said with absolute certainty. “He’s not. Just fortunate.”

“That could be argued. A fury war orphan that awakened in a monastery of the Order. All the great powers will get involved in this one.”

There was a moment of silence. Palag resisted the urge to move forward. He couldn’t understand why they were keeping him so close to the discussion. No doubt they knew what furies were capable of; he wasn’t the only one here, after all. Did they want him to hear? Or maybe they just didn’t care?

“We can keep him hidden,” the initiate said.

“Too late for that,” the bishop sighed. “The archbishop already knows. That means that by now, so does everyone else in the grand citadel. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Academy is planning to pay us a visit. They always sniff out their own.”

“We can deny it, or move him to another—”

“The Moon has made a choice. We can’t go against that.”

“You can’t be certain.”

There were several more moments of silence.

“We’ve known each other for a long time, but don’t be overconfident in your abilities. The Moons wouldn’t have granted him the gift unless they had plans. Potentially, he could become a major player. You and I are destined to remain pawns.”

“Very well,” the woman said reluctantly. “Then how do we proceed?”

“I’ll have a talk with him, then see where the dice fall.”

The door to the bishop’s chambers opened. Instantly, the clerics stood to attention.

“Palag, come here,” the woman said, her usual warm smile shining on her face. “We need to have a word with you.”

The boy had barely made a step forward when the woman darted a warning glance at each of the clerics near him.

“Alone.” Her intonation changed slightly, making it clear that it wasn’t a request.

Uncertain of what was expecting him, the fury slowly made his way into the neighboring room. Once he stepped in, the door closed behind him. The suddenness sent a shiver throughout his body.

“It’s alright,” the woman said, placing her hand on Palag’s head. “You’re safe here.”

Palag wanted to nod, but he found he couldn’t. Too many conflicting emotions were stirring within him. Ever since joining the monastery, Palag had been told—verbally and non-verbally—that the bishop was the one closest to the Moons. Being in his presence felt him with a sensation of awe-filled wonder. The conversation he’d heard, though, made him feel afraid—both eager to see what lied beyond the monastery and scared that he’d be taken away from it. If this was what it was like being awakened, he was no longer certain he’d made the right choice.

“Palag,” the bishop said to him. His voice was calm, soft and pleasant even if he wasn’t smiling. “I heard you’ve awakened.”

The boy nodded.

“That’s good.” The man went behind the large ornate desk and sat down. Similar to the rest of the room, it was grand and richly decorated, very much in contrast to the rest of the monastery. It was said that the bishop himself had crafted his chamber and everything in it—an impressive feat even for an awakened. “You also say that you spoke to a Moon when you did?” he went on.

“Y-yes.”

“That’s rather rare. Thousands have awakened, yet only a hand few mention catching a glimpse of a Moon while that happened.”

“I spoke to him,” Palag insisted. “He said he was the Moon of Awakening.”

“The Blue Moon? Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe it was light blue,” the woman suggested. “Cyan, perhaps.”

“No, it was deep blue.”

The adults looked at one another. Having the Moon of Awakening appear was, in itself, rare. For that to happen to a fury was inexplicable. The Orange Moon was the Moon of furies. By all logic, she should have appeared. That was what the knowledge in the Order’s scrolls stated. Each Moon was linked to one race and one trait. In the dawn of time, back when the world was first created, the seven Moons had brought people from seven different worlds into the awakened world, where they had bestowed great gifts upon them. That was an established fact. And yet, what had occurred to Palag went counter to all teachings.

“Alright, it was blue,” the bishop said. “What did the Moon tell you?”

“Well, he asked me what I wanted to do and if I really wanted to be an awakened. I said yes.”

“And?”

“I was in a room without doors or windows. It was made entirely of clouds and had a floating blue rectangle in the middle.”

“That sounds more like an awakening room.” The bishop smiled faintly, as if relieved.

“It told me to break it, so I did. Then a purple rectangle appeared.”

“It’s the same thing that he told me,” the woman said. “He doesn’t appear to be lying.”

“Maybe he isn’t.” The bishop rubbed his chin. “For a Moon to have spoken to him… It’s interesting, but not enough to keep him here.”

“I want to stay here.” Palag interrupted.

“I’m sure you do, but the path set for you by the Moons leads you elsewhere. Purple is the color of Galatea. You were chosen by him and soon one of his will come to teach you the way of magic.”

Palag didn’t understand what the man was saying, but events followed exactly in that fashion. Half a week after his awakening, a visitor came to the monastery. He didn’t arrive by horse or foot, but flew down from the sky as if he were a fury. There was no doubt that he was human, and one whose entire being was full of glowing purple.

“Where’s the boy?” he demanded the moment his feet touched the ground.

Palag was too scared to go into the courtyard, so he kept hiding in his room. That was another new thing—after his awakening, the monks had moved him somewhere new. In fact, one of the rooms in the bishop’s building had been transformed and made into his own.

“The bishop will see you immediately, mage,” a cleric said. “If you’d follow me.”

“You really want to play this game, do you? It won’t end well for you.”

“Even the Academy won’t dare start a fight within a monastery.” The cleric didn’t back down. “You are a guest here, mage, so the bishop has ordered me to make you feel welcome. That won’t keep me from taking action should you push your luck.”

The commotion abruptly ended. No matter how much Palag concentrated, he wasn’t able to hear anything more. The seconds stretched like hours. His pulse quickened more and more, until, without warning, the thing he was most terrified of happened.

The door of his room opened without a sound. An old man in his early thirties stood there, dressed in expensive silk clothes covered by a blue cloak. His glance was cold and merciless, focusing on Palag like a bird of prey on a small rodent.

“Bishop?” Palag managed to squeak.

“The bishop won’t disturb us,” the man said as he entered the room. He made a point of floating, his feet never touching the floor, as if he were disgusted by it. “You aren’t something that concerns him.”

“I’m part of the monastery.” The fury found the strength to say.

“Were,” the man corrected. “That ended the moment you were given the magic trait. You’re a mage now, or at least you have the potential to become one.” The fingers of his right hand moved throughout the air, drawing an intricate pattern. Light filled the room, covering all surfaces until he and Palag were surrounded by a thin glowing bubble. “Now we can talk without being overheard.”

The mage looked at the single bed in the room. Not finding it to his taste, he cast another spell, causing a throne-like chair to appear a step away.

“My name is mage Argus Tisaku.” The man gently floated down into the chair. “I’m here to take you to the Mage Academy.”

“I don’t want to go.” The boy clenched his fists. “I want to stay here.”

“Really?” Argus arched a brow. “Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

“Alright.” The mage stood up, his feet remaining a full inch above the ground. “Let’s test that.” He made his way to the boy and reached out. “Give me your hand.”

“Why?”

“I’m not going to drag you out of here. I just need to dispel some of the lies you’ve been told so far.”

Palag looked at the man’s hand. It was flawlessly smooth, with polished nails. The man must have never done a day’s work in his life. Looking at it was almost like looking at a snake: shiny and lethal.

“Scared of this?” The mage sighed. “If you are, life will be one long nightmare.”

The comment was meant as a mockery, but it had its effect. Despite his reluctance, Palag grabbed the mage’s hand. The moment he did, reality changed.

 

 

The cloud room appeared, along with the glowing blue rectangle within. This time, though, the mage was also present.

“A cloud chamber,” the man said, nodding as he did. “Impressive. I’ve never seen one, myself.”

“Why are you here?” The fury recoiled several steps back. “Only I can be here.”

“Haven’t they told you anything? You can bring people into your realm. Don’t worry, you’re too low a level to be invaded.”

“Invaded?”

“Never mind. It isn’t important.” The mage turned towards the door. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

As far as Palag knew, there was nothing in the corridor. He’d been there several times, but failed to find anything of interest. The first few he hoped he’d be able to reclaim the bucker and short sword, but the items stubbornly refused to reappear.

“To show you what has been kept hidden.”

Curiosity triumphed, urging the fury to follow the man outside the room. A part of him was hoping that something different would happen. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. The same walled corridor continued on into the distance and there was no indication that any of the items had reemerged.

“Told you.” The boy mumbled beneath his breath.

“Look closer.” The mage took a step forward, then without reservation, grabbed a part of the wall and pulled it off.

Palag stared in horror as a new room was revealed before him. Had it always been there? He would have noticed if that were the case. He should have noticed.

“Come along.” The mage stepped in. The fury rushed behind him, but upon reaching the threshold a feeling of dread swept over him. A voice in his mind whispered that he wasn’t supposed to be there, that the room was special and entering risked destroying the entire realm. “I said, come along.”

The mage turned around and grabbed him by the shoulder. One quick pull, and the boy was inside. Strangely enough, the moment he did, the sensation of fear faded away into nothingness, leaving Palag confused as to why he had been scared to begin with.

“See him?” Argus pointed at a plump man sitting behind a large desk with documents. It wasn’t someone who Palag had seen before, although he did seem familiar somehow. The most distinct of the man was the tunic with the symbol of the Order he was wearing.

Upon hearing the question, the man behind the desk stood up. Scrolls and pieces of paper rose up into the air, but before they could do anything, a zap of purple lightning shot out from the mage’s hand, causing the other to poof in a cloud of dust.

“That,” the mage said, as the pieces of paper floated back down, “was a limiting echo.”

“Limiting echo?”

“Something that keeps you from making your own choices. Echoes could be used for a lot of things, but your Order decided they wanted to use them to put their thoughts in your head. Tell me, have you ever found that there’ve been things you’ve done in the past, but forgotten about?”

Palag nodded.

“Now you know why. The echo fills your head with the things it wants while gently removing everything else. It’ll take you a while, but now that it’s gone, you'll remember everything that happened since you arrived here.” The man turned around, facing the boy. “Now, do you still want to remain here? Or are you ready to come with me to the Academy?”