Serial
3: Approach of an omen
October
3rd, 32 S.D. 13:51 Palostrol, Upper Vestel
The lives of the students of Palostrol, although principally guided by rigorous study, were not endlessly spend on education alone. Far from it, they really only spent four days a week in class and at various training sites. Saturdays and Sundays were theirs to enjoy, while Mondays were often set aside for so-called personal studies. These could be anything of a student’s choosing: art, music, math, sports, reading, and more. The start of the week had thus come to be known as a sort of hobby day.
Most anything was approved, so long as it furthered a student’s development in some capacity, which in actuality nearly accounted for everything. Mesel was himself fond of using meditation as a front for sleeping. Losha prodigiously spent these days documenting Palostrol’s collective knowledge of serialization. Denze, however, remained one of the few students who liked to practice serialization on this free day. Many did whatever additional classwork they needed on the weekend. As of late though, he’d taken to developing a secret series that no one else had yet to learn, not even Master Eltin.
Today he stood with his back against a tree. Ahead of him stood the Training Grounds, a neat, low trimmed rectangular field that served as an open-air location perfect for serialization exercises. Behind him sat the less tamed patches of grass that often played host to a number of the ball games. Although the seasons were preparing to change, the weather of Mount Anhel had yet to relinquish the last bits of autumn’s warmth. As such, it was still agreeable to play a game of football.
A match in fact took place that day. As Denze stood there, each side challenged the other with fierce, strategic moves. It was at that time one to one. He had watched the game from its very inception, yet he had never once turned around to look directly at the playing field. He had seen every last detail of their sport, down to each kick, pass, block, and steal. Such was the exclusive series that he had been nurturing over the past few months: the ability to see where he wasn’t looking. By taking several advanced topics he had learned in the past six or seven months and applying some really heady material he’d gleaned from Losha, Denze eventually had come up with a rather novel idea. At the least, he thought it was novel and perhaps as of yet perfected by anyone else.
The premise involved the creation of a small “screen” of force through serialization. It was merely a series that generated a constant source of kinetic energy outwards so that it acted very much like an ordinary surface in its own right. The key was getting feedback from it. Light, sound vibrations, the wind, temperature: every natural phenomenon produced slight interferences that required him to adjust the amount of seras to maintain the surface’s consistency. For example, sound waves bounced off the screen, causing minute fluctuations in the amount of seras he had to output, since technically sound pushed against the screen with its own, albeit miniature force. In measuring all of these tiny variances, Denze could “see” what was affecting the sheet.
It had taken him only a week to come up with the working theory behind such serialization, but he was only just now gaining mastery over it. At first the screen he’d used had to be nearly as big as he was, and it caused odd light-bending distortions across the surface, as if it were some sort of bizarre mirror. However, in his private training, he’d managed to get better at reading the disturbances hitting the screen, thus Denze was able to make it smaller - around a square centimeter - and now completely invisible. He even seemed proficient enough now that the series was at a point of margins.
In serialization, aggregation - the process of drawing seras from the soul - often emitted bright lights due to the concentration of that energy. Yet, aggregation had to pass a certain threshold of seras to glow. Any series that used relatively small amounts of seras did not produce light and was said to be within the point of margins. Most significantly, it was the sign of a highly efficient series that required very little seras to work as intended.
Denze’s third eye was for all purposes practically unseen, and he could move the screen just about anywhere within 15 meters of himself. Anything further tested his limits on precision and control. Right then, it sat on the opposite side of the tree, giving him a full view of the game. This exercise truly tested how far he’d come to understand his own work. Denze normally tracked stationary objects and only a few of them at best. Now he monitored ten quickly moving students plus the ball itself. The first half hour proved quite challenging, but presently he was able to see many of the fine details of the game. The whole experience was rather soothing actually, with his eye shut and his body at rest. He might have even felt tempted to abandon his practice here and take a short nap. For October, it was a fairly warm day too. However, these notions fell apart soon as something new entered into his expanded field of vision.
Two people were walking parallel to the football field only a few meters away from where he stood. Obviously with such a large tree between him and them, they hadn’t seen Denze, however, he spied them coming for some time. This series of Denze’s had not the ability to see absolute, clear images, not yet anyway, so he couldn’t tell exactly who they were. The series’ detection of light was only sophisticated enough to discern how bright or dark an area appeared. He figured that with further experimentation, he could eventually see colors. For now, he could see shapes more or less definitely.
The pair stopped before the tree’s extending shadow, almost exactly behind Denze. Even over the cries and calls of the ongoing nearby game, he could hear the two talking.
“Here should be a nice spot to practice.” Denze recognized this as Siersus’ voice.
“What are we going to do today?” Denze gave pause for a moment, trying to pin down the second person. It took him longer to recall, but he realized that it was in fact the new student, Istan. They’d spoken only in passing since his arrival though. Were they doing a sort of private tutoring session? That would have been the most plausible explanation after all.
“You wanted to know why you’re having trouble with the first step of serialization, aggregation, correct?”
“Yeah,” Istan said. “I’ve done it a couple of times already, but I can’t seem to do it whenever I want to,” he sighed. “I know I’m new here, but Master Eltin said I would be able to get the fundamentals down pretty quick. I’m getting frustrated that it’s not turning out to be so easy.”
“Don’t worry, it’s not something anyone understands completely in under a week. This exercise will, hopefully, help you get to that point.”
“Alright, thanks!” Istan laughed a bit. “I’ll take advice from a master any day.”
“Well,” Siersus began. “I’m not a master just yet. I still have to pass Master Eltin’s upcoming test, and no one knows how difficult it will be. At any rate, it might be beneficial to ask another student to help us out.” There ensued a moment of silence in their conversation.
“What was that?” Istan asked after nothing happened. Siersus turned to the tree and spoke.
“Denze, if you would care to join us.”
At first he felt a prickling wash all across his nerves as a brief instant of panic struck him. Yet, Denze quickly recovered himself. In his shock, however, he’d dispersed his third eye series. He walked around the broad trunk as he scratched his forehead.
“Sa, what’re you doing over there?” Istan exclaimed at Denze, alarmed that someone just popped seemingly out of nowhere.”
“How did you know I was there?” Denze asked, ignoring the new student altogether.
“Well,” Siersus said, touching the rim of his glasses. “I really didn’t see you there, not exactly.” He gave a short laugh.
“Actually, I knew you were there because I could sense you. It’s a fairly advanced topic Master Eltin and I are working on, but it boils down to the following premises. Every soul carries with it amounts of seras, but each soul is unique, and so is the rate at which seras moves around the soul, like a frequency. Tiny amounts of seras tend to radiate away from the soul naturally at a set, individualized rate too. Since the seras of others affects your own soul very minutely, it’s possible to notice the presence of specific people, even without performing any serialization.”
Istan blinked several times. “I don’t really understand all of that, Votal.”
“I know. I myself am still just coming to terms with the overall theory.” Siersus smiled.
“That’s why you’re one of the candidates to gain the title of master though, because you’re so knowledgeable on subjects like this,” Denze pointed out. This soul sensing idea worked strikingly similarly to Denze’s third eye in that both were based on receiving external stimulus and interpreting that data. He reminded himself to try this technique when he had the chance.
“So, we’re helping Istan with aggregation, right?” Denze asked.
“Correct, we’re going to practice body-based aggregation.”
“Body-based aggregation?” Istan asked, frowning.
“Don’t worry, it’s simple,” Denze said, suddenly throwing an arm over Istan’s shoulder, all buddy-like. “All you gotta do is aggregate your seras around a single part of your body. Like say,” he held up his free hand. “Like an arm. Nothing to it once you figure out what you’re doing.”
“An arm? Really?” Istan asked, holding up his own hand and looking at it.
“He’s right,” Siersus said. “While seras can be gathered almost anywhere, beginning serialists often find it easier to perform aggregation around the body itself. This is probably rooted in the fact that the body is linked to the soul, and it probably serves as the foremost conduit for seras.”
“So,” Denze said, stepping back, holding his forearm before him, bending it at the elbow. “Just pour on the seras like so...” Almost instantly his limb became encased in a bright, green light. “And then you’ll see the results.”
“As you can see, his glow is of a different color than mine or yours. In all likelihood, the frequency of our seras plays a role in determining this. However, that is research for a later date.” Siersus said.
“Seeing it in action is all well and good, hacha, but how exactly do I do that?”
“Easy,” Denze said, stopping the light around his arm. “Which hand do you use?”
“I’m right handed.”
“Well then, hold out your right arm. Just let it sit there. Now, imagine your soul wrapping itself around your arm. It’s bright; it’s warm; it tingles; it feels strong. Visualize that. See it and feel it in your mind. Then, command it to happen; will it to be.” Istan looked dubiously from Denze to Siersus. At times, the art of serialization seemed to him to be a most exact science in principle, but on these occasions it seemed almost spiritual, mystic, or downright mental. If he hadn’t seen what some of the veteran students or Master Eltin had achieved, he might never have believed in serialization. Still, Istan nodded and took a step back from them.
“Alright,” he said. “Here I go.” He held up his right arm and clenched his fist. At first, nothing. After a minute, still nothing.
“I’m almost there, I can feel it, I think.” Istan breathed.
“Hold on,” Denze interrupted. “Pretend you’re the legendary hero, Tanshion. You’re about to deliver the final blow to the Demon Lord Dueshaas. All you have to do is charge up your punch with energy. Now, focus.” Siersus looked at Denze, raising an eyebrow, but said nothing.
“Denze?” Istan asked, more uncertain than ever.
“Just do it,” Denze said, folding his arms. “Charge up your punch.” Istan sighed again, but now however he clearly put all of his attention on the exercise. After only 15 seconds this time, however, a pale, dim, purple glow began to form around his arm. Although it was faint, the light definitely indicated aggregation.
“Sa! That’s it, keep charging up your punch. Feel the power!” The light increased in intensity by several degrees before it shorted out altogether.
“Ah...” Istan said, panting. “Hah! It worked this time...”
“Quite so,” Siersus said. “Some people find certain mental stimulations or visualizations very conducive for body-based aggregation. It can be holding a particular trigger object, maintaining a specific posture, or simply imagining something. Until you can aggregate seras on demand, it’s a great way to familiarize yourself with the process. As you perform aggregation more often, you get more and more used to it, hence you eventually won’t need any visualizations whatsoever. It will then be instinct.”
“Wow,” Istan said. “Maybe it’s just because I’m so new, but even getting this much done, I’ll say that serialization is something else.” They all laughed and smiled; Siersus and Denze both had had their moments like that, back when they were barely trained at all and still prone to being awestruck by performing even the simplest of tasks.
“Trust me, you haven’t even seen what you’re capable of achieving yet,” Denze said.
Together, Denze and Siersus instructed Istan on refining his nascent skills for the next hour and a half. They would have broached the topic of conversion and tried an exercise or two, but by that time Istan was thoroughly winded. The amount of seras around the soul was by no means infinite. Too much serialization could leave someone completely drained, both of seras and bodily energy. They agreed to end their session for the day as Istan left to recuperate in his room. That put Siersus and Denze alone, as even the football match had drawn to a close.
“You’re actually a very good teacher, you know.” Siersus said as he polished one of his lenses with a piece of cloth.
“Huh? What was that?”
“If I recall correctly, you were one of the quickest students to gain proficiency in all three of the basic processes of serialization. You were able to perform your first series in about two weeks, right?”
“Nine days,” Denze replied.
“Yes, you made such remarkable progress at the time.”
“Yeah, and now I’m slowing down.” Siersus frowned at his comment.
“Denze,” he said, putting his glasses on. “You can’t expect to learn everything right away.”
“Haha, that’s just what Losha told me. I guess I’ll know I’m master material when I start talking like you two.”
“Well,” he began. “It’s the truth. You can’t rush true understanding. At any rate, you’re more advanced than you give yourself credit for. Take how easily you helped Istan get started with aggregation. Only someone already fairly intimate with serialization could have done that.”
Since Denze always kept one eye covered, it was actually simple for him to avoid direct eye contact. All he had to do was shift his head slightly. While receiving this praise, he turned somewhat away so that it was hard for Siersus to tell where he was looking. His uncovered eye fell to the grass.
“I suppose so,” he admitted. “But I’m not a mentor just yet.”
“Hmm. Looked like you were mentoring Istan to me,” Siersus smiled. “More importantly, keep in mind that not all mentors are just those designated to help with classes.”
“Ah, right.”
“What was that about this hero though, Tanshion?”
“Oh,” Denze said. “That’s Asten folklore. I thought he might be familiar with the story, so I picked that. Most of the major clans in the Central Plains keep to themselves and their territory, but we pretty much have a lot of common culture. Fighting seems to be a part of it too, so when I saw his fist balled up like that, I figured that story would help with his visualization.”
Siersus nodded. “You’re certainly as perceptive as Losha’s told me. If I might ask, does that impression stem from that series you were doing earlier?”
“What?” Denze asked suddenly. “Oh, that...” Thus exposed, Denze explained the mechanics behind his third eye, something he’d yet to do for anyone. He had to tell someone eventually, however, especially if he ever wanted proper recognition for his work. They began to walk back towards the center of Palostrol’s campus, specifically towards the cafeteria as Denze finished the last of his details
“That truly is quite ingenious,” Siersus said. And now that made two at least.
“Thanks. By the way, how did you know I was serializing? Even if my series weren’t at a point of margins, I was behind the tree, so you wouldn’t have seen any light from it.”
“Remember how I told you that I could detect you based on how your seras frequency interacts with my soul? Well, training oneself to be more receptive and sensitive to these said interactions also leads one to distinguish whether or not another person is currently serializing. Basically, the seras frequency increases during serialization.”
“I see,” Denze said. For a while further, they continued to chat, but as they reached the library, with the cafeteria in their sights, Denze spontaneously stopped. Siersus walked ahead a few paces before looking over at Denze.
“Is something the matter?”
Denze was looking back at the path they’d taken, straight across the field, past the fences of Palostrol and into the great, green, slopes of Mount Anhel.
“Hey, Siersus,” he said without turning. “What’s it feel like when you just notice someone like that, by their seras frequency I mean?”
Siersus paused for but a moment to consider his response. “Well, it’s not quite the same, but the closest physical analogy would be pressure. Depending on proximity, the presence of someone else will fade or become more apparent as their seras frequency ‘pushes’ against you. It’s nothing like being crushed or anything of that sort though. Why do you ask?”
Denze started walking to the cafeteria again. “No reason. Just my fanciful mind wandering off.” Siersus made no further inquiries. Denze opened the door for the older student, but as he himself went in, his singular eye took another glance at the distance. Then he walked on inside.
About two and a half kilometers outside of Palostrol, further up Mount Anhel’s wooded incline, a lone man stood not so much in the forest, but above it. Perched upon the finest point of a tree, he planted his feet there with ease, as if it were the very ground. Balance, for this mysterious figure, seemed to have none of the man’s concern. In fact, at that instant, he craned forward, bending at the hip. Squinting, holding one hand akimbo and the other to his chin, the stranger peered into the reaches before him.
“Hmm,” he said. “Looks like this is the place alright. No more scouting missions for me then.” He reared back, folding his arms together. “He’s going to come over her right away when he gets word of this.” One hand again cupped his chin in thought.
“It’s been a long time, and it looks like you’ve been busy too. I mean just look at all of those students following your every word, like mutts after a morsel,” he laughed, but then he shrugged. “Hey, some of them aren’t too bad though. Look at that one. I wonder if he can see me. Oh, he’s kinda creepy, if he could.” The man laughed again, mindful not to be too loud.
“It doesn’t matter anyway. We’ve finally caught up to you, Sambur Eltin.” He curled a sharp smile as he said that name, then he outright disappeared. As if his body were stolen away by some unseen force, the man left nothing in his wake but a gust of wind as the air filled the void where once he’d stood.
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