Knowledge and Power

“What did she mean, the Aether is trying to kill me?” Jiriinii said as Kiinrin led her out of the Sower’s room, the room of the healers.

“You expect me to know?” Kiinrin replied. “You do recall that we were both in the room when she told us, right? I heard the same amount you did.”

Jiriinii folded her arms and pouted for a bit as they walked; it was what she did best. This was all so unfair! Ventoros and all the other Jods expected her to learn and train for the good of the people, but they didn’t tell her anything that she really wanted to know. They kept her in the dark all the time, letting in only a glimmer of light occasionally. And now, when some powerful force was trying to kill her, they shut her out and sent her away!

It was times like these that made Jiriinii want to learn how to fight, just so she could give the Jods a piece of her mind.

“Look.” Kiinrin said, stopping and turning to Jiriinii. “If I learn anything new, though I doubt I will, you will be the first to know.” Jiriinii continued to pout, but she eventually sighed and nodded. The offer made sense, and it wasn’t like she could force the Jods to tell her. They would eventually. Kiinrin nodded back and began walking at a brisk pace down the crimson hallway.

“Where are we going?” Jiriinii asked. The hallway looked unfamiliar, though, admittedly, she hadn’t traveled these halls very much. Almost any would be unfamiliar at this point.

“Class.” Kiinrin answered simply.

“Class?” Jiriinii said, surprised. “There are classes?”

“Of course.” Kiinrin said, puzzled. “You didn’t think that we were going to train ourselves?”

“Well, no…” Jiriinii replied. “I just didn’t think training would be so… normal.”

“I think these classes are going to be anything but normal.” Kiinrin laughed. “We are being taught by angels, after all.”

“That’s very true.” Jiriinii said, laughing herself. “I guess I can make myself amenable to this endeavor.”

“We may also have to teach you how to speak like a regular girl.” Kiinrin teased. “Do you even know what those words mean?”

“Yes!” Jiriinii shot back, though a grin took some of the bite out of the retort. Kiinrin laughed and held up his hands in surrender. Jiriinii continued smiling as they walked. Nobody looking at them would doubt they were siblings.

After a few moments of walking in silence, they arrived at a white door with a plaque next to it that read: Classroom: Bloodblade Theory.

“We’re here.” Kiinrin said, looking at something on his wrist. “But we’re late.”

“How do you know that?” Jiriinii asked, looking around for a shadow-measure, a little device that measured time by measuring the length of a shadow. She found none.

“This.” Kiinrin said, waving a circular trinket attached to a leather strap that wrapped around his wrist. “The Jods call it a watch. It has a lot of little metal parts… I’ll explain later.” He looked at the door and peeked through the window at the classroom. “Maybe we can sneak into the back.”

“You lead the way.” Jiriinii said, folding her arms. “This way I can say it was all your fault.” Kiinrin rolled his eyes, but he opened the door slowly.

The room was filled with the murmur of talking children, each initiate chatting and talking with their neighbor. Kiinrin and Jiriinii sighed with relief. Any sound they made would be masked by the talking of the other children. They walked through the doorway and shut the door behind them quietly. Taking no chances, they walked slowly toward the back of the room, stealing glances at the Jod at the front. His back was turned, one hand writing with a strange white pen on the matte black surface in front of him, and the other hand holding something else in front of him.

As Jiriinii and Kiinrin neared the red desks at the back, the miniscule sound of a floorboard creaking sounded beneath Jiriinii’s feet. She paid it no heed. If she could barely hear it, then there was no possible reason the teacher could hear it too.

“I see our final initiates have arrived.” The Jod said from the front of the room, and Jiriinii and her brother froze as the room went silent. How could he possibly have known? The Jod turned around. “We are graced by your presence.” In his hands, Jiriinii and Kiinrin could see that the Jod held a white Blade that was long and thin, almost like an elongated needle.

“Um, pardon me, sir,” Kiinrin stammered after an awkward moment of silence. “But I’m curious. How did you hear us come in?”

“All in good time, Kiinrin.” The Jod laughed, taking the sword and stabbing it into the skin of his left wrist. As it broke the skin, the Blade melted and seemed to be sucked into his veins. After a moment, all that was left was a white spike protruding out of the Jod’s arm. “And I forgive your lateness. You were merely seeing to the health of your sister. I cannot punish you for that.” He clapped his hands. “You may take your seats, children.” There was a clamor as the children pulled out chairs and sat down at their desks, eyes staring intently at the Jod.

“Can you believe it?” Jiriinii said as she sat down at the back next to Kiinrin. “We didn’t even get punished!”

“Thanks for passing out.” Kiinrin said slyly. “You kept me from getting demerits.” Jiriinii rolled her eyes and hit her brother playfully in the shoulder. They both quieted as their teacher began to speak.

“My name is Master Valynor,” He began, looking out over the heads of the students, “ and as you can probably guess by my little demonstration, we will be learning about Bloodblades today. Now, who can tell me what a Bloodblade is?”

A hand shot up from the front row. “The weapons of the nobility and the Diradis.”

Valynor nodded. “Correct. What’s your name, child?”

The blonde girl who had answered blushed. “Lelea.”

“Reledanian?” Valynor asked, stroking his chin thoughtfully. The girl nodded.

“Born and raised.” She said, her voice lilting with a strange accent. It sounded like a drawl, but it was soothing all the same.

“Very well.” Valynor said, looking back out over the class. “Yes, the Bloodblades are the weapons of the nobility. However, can anyone tell me what a Bloodblade actually is?” Silence fell over the students as a few looked at each other. Timidly, Quinlix, the boy who questioned Master Vilvaga, raised his hand. Valynor nodded at him.

“Well,” He said slowly. “It’s a sword made out of blood, isn’t it?”

“Correct.” Valynor said with a nod. “What kind of blood?”

“It depends.” Kiinrin blurted, and Jiriinii looked over, startled. How did he know this?

Valynor looked amused. “I suppose I should have asked the nobleman in the room first.” He said gaily. “What does it depend on, Kiinrin?”

“On what kind of Bloodblade you wish to make.”

“Correct.” Valynor said with a raised eyebrow. Jiriinii looked at Kiinrin.

“How did you know that?” She hissed.

“The Aether told me.” He said simply, without looking at her. “Now be quiet and pay attention” Jiriinii sighed, but she turned her eyes back toward Valynor.

“Bloodblades come in five different varieties, or Ways.” Valynor said, drawing five different shapes on the strange black board. “Wolfsbane.” He pointed at the long, needle-like shape he himself had wielded. “Viperbite.” A thick, wavy variety that looked like waves of the ocean. “Fishmonger.” A hooked blade with serrated edges. “Falconeyes.” Twin blades that resembled the wings of a bird. “And Eliran's Sickle.” A curved blade that very closely resembled the tool that farmers used. Valynor put the queer white pen on a tray jutting out of the black board and turned back to the class.

“Each Blade is created in much the same way.” Valynor said, pointing to the Blades in turn. “Each Blade requires three components. Can anyone tell me the first?” A few hands went up. Valynor nodded at a flaxen-haired Junarian boy with slanted eyes and a nervous tic in his hands.

“You’d need a hilt, wouldn’t you?” He said, in a voice that was barely audible throughout the large room.

“Correct, Jijiir.” Valynor said. “Do you know what is required for the hilt?” The boy shook his head and looked down quickly. A brunette girl in front of Kiinrin raised her hand.

“You’d need a hilt made of bone, right?” She said pointedly.

“Correct, Ilyira.” Valynor said. “A carved hilt of bone is the first component. Now, any bone will work, as long as it is large enough to be carved into the shape required.” He held up his wrist as the white spike oozed out of his skin to reveal the hilt. It was a cylinder that curved inward and back outward, giving it the appearance of being rolled between two spherical stones. “Can anyone tell me what the second component is?”

No hands went up.

“I didn’t expect you to know.” Valynor said, reaching with his right hand to remove something from his hilt. “This is the second component.” He held the trinket up to the light: a glass cube filled with coals. Surprisingly, they still appeared to be burning. “Do any of you know what this is?”

“It looks like a Prism.” One of the students, a large boy with rippling muscles, said.

“Very good, Kilian.” Valynor said. “The Prisms themselves were modeled after these once humans saw the power they contained. This, dear children, is called an Outlet. Each Way of Blade requires a different one.” He pointed at the first four Blades in turn. “Fire, Earth, Water, Air. To make one of these Bloodblades, you would need to take a sample of one of these and suspend it inside an outlet.”

“Sir?” Jiriinii said, her curiosity winning over her belligerence. “What would you need for the last one?” She pointed at the final drawing. Eliran's Sickle, he had called it.

“That one is different.” Valynor said, covering it with his hand. “I will explain how in a moment.” He looked back at the initiates. “Now, what does everybody think the third component is?”

“Blood.” Everyone answered in unison, Jiriinii included. The answer was obvious.

“Correct.” Valynor said with a smile. “However, this is where the Blades branch off. To make one of these Blades, you would need to use a different kind of blood. Can anyone tell me what kinds?” Nyrin raised his hand from the front row.

“Well, I suppose different kinds of animals yield different results.” He said slowly.

“Which do you think corresponds with each Blade?” Valynor replied with a nod. “Try and make a guess.”

“Well,” Nyrin said. “I guess Wolfsbane would come from wolves and such, Viperbite from snakes, Fishmonger from fish, and Falconeyes from birds.” He looked at the last. “But I’m not sure where that one comes from.”

“That one is different, and I will explain in a moment.” Valynor said, and Jiriinii snorted. He seemed to be using that excuse quite a bit. “Your other answers were mostly correct. To create a Blade, you would need to mix in at least a drop of the corresponding animal’s blood with whatever blood you are using to create the Blade.”

“What do you mean, whatever blood you are using?” Somebody piped up, and Jiriinii nodded. This lesson was more confusing than informative.

Valynor sighed. “Now we get to the darker side of Bloodblades.” He said gravely. “Very well. I suppose it is necessary for you to learn this.” He pointed at Eliran's Sickle. “This Blade is the outlier, the pariah. Or, perhaps, the culmination of the other four.” He pointed at the other four. “In Outlets for these Blades, one would need a sample of one of the elements suspended in a Prism. In Eliran's Sickle, however, one would need a sample of actual blood.”

“Why?” Someone asked from the front of the room.

“Because every sample of Blood has Void inside of it, and you need it for the Outlet.” Valynor said. “The essence of Aia and of the Void resides inside the blood of humans.” A gasp followed his words.

“But,” Kiinrin blurted out again. “That would mean you would need human blood suspended in an Outlet.”

“Not just for the Outlet, Kiinrin.” Valynor said quietly. “Eliran's Sickle requires not just human blood for an Outlet, but also for the Blade itself.” Silence engulfed the room completely, and the only sound that could be heard was the frightened breathing of the students.

“Why would anyone want to do that?” Jiriinii said quietly, her eyes wide in horror.

“Because Bloodblades are not just supposed to be aesthetically pleasing, Jiriinii.” Valynor said. “They grant the user enhanced sense.”

“Like magic?” Utira, the serf girl, said hopefully. Serfs had an unhealthy fascination with magic, even if it was impossible. Only Aia held that power, and he didn’t seem to enjoy giving it out.

“Not quite, Utira.” Valynor said with a shake of his head. He looked at Kiinrin. “Can you tell us?”

“Each Blade gives the bearer some sort of enhanced sense.” Kiinrin said. “Wolfsbane gives hearing, for example.” His eyes widened in understanding. “That’s why you could hear us come in, isn’t it?”

“Correct.” Valynor nodded. “Each Blade gives its bearer enhanced senses based off of the chosen animal. As you said, Wolfsbane gives hearing. Can anyone tell me what Fishmonger bestows?”

“Touch?” Someone in the back said.

“Correct. What about Viperbite?”

“Taste.”

“Correct. And Falconeyes?”

“Sight.” Jiriinii said. She knew that much. Sometimes it felt like her father could see every little detail wrong in her room. Maybe that’s why he always knew she never cleaned it.

“Yes.” Valynor said. “Now, can anyone tell me what Eliran's Sickle would give?” No one answered. A wind blew outside, whipping the needles of one of the trees against the window. Tentatively, Nyrin raised his hand. Valynor nodded his head.

“Would it give all four?” He asked quietly.

“Yes, Nyrin.” Valynor nodded gravely. “Eliran's Sickle is the greatest of the five, which is why, to create it, one would have to commit an act of evil. That is why you rarely see Eliran's Sickle used except by the Jods, and why it is highly sought after by the servants of Oio.”

“Who made Eliran's Sickle in the first place?” Jiriinii blurted in frustration. “If it’s so terrible, who would do such a thing in the first place?”

“The Flens did.” Kiinrin said quietly, and all eyes turned to him. Valynor said nothing, but gestured for Kiinrin to continue. “When a Flen goes on his first… Harvest, I suppose the term would be, he takes the blood of the Harvest and uses it to create Eliran's Sickle.”

“Correct.” Valynor said weightily. “I may have to speak to Vilkanai about how much information he gave you, Kiinrin. You might be able to teach this class in my place.” He looked back at the children with their wide eyes and fearful expressions. “It does not matter, children. You are safe here, and I doubt that you will ever see Eliran's Sickle created or put to use. It is better,” He gestured to the drawings on the board. “To learn the advantages and disadvantages of these. Now, for Wolfsbane…”