Chapter 8
The Senior Abbot’s office was almost identical to the one in Jeskai City. The only difference between the two were the books. Zale could tell at a glance that while the shelves were in the same place, most of the books were different. It made sense though, there were an untold amount of abilities that had been documented over the years. There was only so much shelf space.
The Senior Abbot of Delvers Ridge was much younger than the one from Jeskai City. He was only in his thirties, with long hair tied in a braid. Zale would have never guessed he was the Senior Abbot if he wasn’t brought to the office and introduced to him. The Senior Abbot motioned for Zale to sit.
“I’ve read your letter of recommendation. It is always a pleasant surprise when we have talents like yourself sent to us. You may not know this, but each Spirit Hall is rewarded by the Empire for outstanding youths that claim their origin from them. With you training in Delvers Ridge we get to split credit with the Spirit Hall of Jeskai City. This way, we are equally invested in you.”
Zale stayed silent. If there was one thing he had learned growing up poor, it was the ability to tell when those in power were truly done speaking. He always had an itch in the back of his mind about why he was sent away to Delvers Ridge. He knew that the norm was to train and prepare the youths for the school tournament in-house; similar to how Yale Brekk was being trained by Commander Cipher in the Spirit Hall. So why would Jeskai City’s Spirit Hall send him away? Especially if Dual Passives were as rare as he was told.
“General Malchi is definitely a perfect fit for you as a master. I will send someone to bring you to him.”
“Thank you very much sir,” Zale replied.
The Senior Abbot sighed. “Don’t get your hopes up. General Malchi has to accept you as a disciple. If he doesn’t I will assign you to another master here, or you can return to Jeskai City and seek a master closer to home from their Spirit Hall.”
Zale never even once thought of a situation where General Malchi wouldn’t accept him. The last two weeks were brutal. If he had fled home seeking help in the wrong place he would be sick to his stomach.
“Just make sure you don’t give up too quick. Make him see your abilities with his own eyes.”
The Senior Abbot waved his hand in dismissal, signaling the monk outside to direct Zale in the right direction. With a quick bow of respect Zale stood up and followed the monk out of the Senior Abbot’s office and into the streets of Delvers Ridge. He originally thought it was weird the General wasn’t in the Spirit Hall. He always pictured the masters to reside with the monks, or at least in the adjacent City Hall where the barracks were located and the busy day to day bureaucratic running’s of the city. But the more they walked the streets the more it made sense. This was a general, a leader of leaders, a master strategist. He wouldn’t live in the barracks with normal soldiers. He must have a large manor unto himself.
The only problem with Zale’s theory was that the monk was leading him farther and farther away from the center square where the Spirit Hall was located. When he had come into the city he had seen with his own eyes what the outer edge of the city was like. It was no place for a manor. Definitely not a place a well-respected General should be living. Then the monk turned down a side street.
The name of the street was Gut’em Lane. It wasn’t very promising. The locals went from bad to worse when they left the main street. Multiple street brawls and gambling games were being had, in some places they were one and the same. People swarmed in and out of taverns that were lined up directly next to each other for as far as Zale could see. The gutters were wet with spilled beer and blood. Occasionally people would give Zale a look over, but stayed clear when they saw he was with a monk from the Spirit Hall. Most petty crime was overlooked in this section of town. A mugging here, a break in there, even a sporadic murder wasn’t dug into that deeply. But move out of the outer rim of the city and closer to the Spirit Hall and soldiers were rampant and no crime went unpunished. The only time soldiers would make a presence in this part of the city was if a noble went somewhere they weren’t supposed to and found out daddy’s name didn’t mean anything to most people.
The monk led Zale into a bar called Twisted Icky’s. There wasn’t any difference between it and the other places, it was just as loud, and its patronage was just as threatening. A piano was being played in a corner, the song choice upbeat with very crude lyrics. The place was packed to the brim with people. They all gave Zale and the monk a strange look when they entered but generally just minded their own business and continued the festivities. The monk looked around the tavern for a couple seconds then pointed out a booth where a man laid sleeping in it.
“That’s General Malchi,” the monk said.
Just his luck. An ability trying to kill him. And now his recommended match was a drunk. Why was he even surprised at this point? Malchi was in his forties from what Zale could tell, and looked about as rough as Zale had before he reached the Spirit Hall. He didn’t have a beard, but he also hadn’t shaved in a couple days resulting in patchy unkempt scruff. Zale walked over and sat across from the General, noticing he hugged a bottle of booze tightly. He nudged the General awake with his foot but the man just groaned and turned over facing the back of the booth away from Zale. Zale kicked harder.
“What!” the General screamed as he rolled over and stood up.
Zale wasn’t sure what he should do. He looked at the monk for help but the monk just shook his head and stood passively by the entrance of the tavern.
“I was sent by the Spirit Hall of Jeskai City to take you on as a master,” Zale said as he presented General Malchi with his letter of recommendation.
The General didn’t even look at the letter. He just put it on the table and set his bottle of liquor down on top of it.
“They didn’t tell you I don’t take disciples anymore?”
Really? He had spoken to two different Senior Abbots and they both “forgot” to mention the fact that General Malchi didn’t take on disciples. He guessed that was why the Senior Abbot of Delvers Ridge had warned him not to get his hopes up.
“You are General Malchi correct? I was told you would be my best fit as a master. That you would be my best chance at succeeding in the school competition,” Zale replied.
Malchi chugged from his bottle. “It’s just Malchi, I retired from the military years ago. Let me guess, you’re a prodigy they want me to train, right? A rank ability for both passive and active. Bet you even got a family backing you. They thought some talent would make me come out of retirement. Hah.”
He turned his head to face the monk and spoke directly at him ignoring Zale. “I’m not part of anything anymore. I won’t lead your armies, I won’t train your soldiers, and I definitely won’t take disciples.”
Zale was furious. Screw this guy. Who was he to act like he was above everyone. He may have been a General for the Empire years ago, but now he was just a drunk. Zale had no powerful family backing him like Sorana Jeskai. He had no A rank ability. The only thing Zale had to support himself was stories and fake promises. He was told having Dual Passives would make him great. The best of the best. He was given a letter of recommendation to a supposedly great General that could bring out his potential. He was told not to worry about his F rank passive.
What did he have to show for trusting in other people. He had brought danger to his loved ones. He had been forced to flee his own home and family thanks to his own ability. He was in constant fear of the next thunderstorm. His only peace of mind the last couple weeks had been the promise of someone who could help him. The promise of a man that could help him grow. Now he was face to face with a washed up drunk who had the nerve to tell him off. Zale grabbed the bottle of liquor from Malchi’s hands and finished it. It was his first time drinking, and it took everything he had not to spit it out all over the place. Luckily most of the bottle was already gone so what he was finishing wasn’t very much. Zale wiped his mouth off and slammed the empty bottle onto the table. He could tell that Malchi was about to yell at him so he beat him to it.
“You don’t know anything about me. I was raised on a farm working fields my whole life. The clothes on my back and the coin in my purse are all I have to my name. As far as being a prodigy. Hah. See for your damn self. I think you need a refresher on your letters because from what I know F comes a few after A.”
Out of breath Zale smacked his spirit gem embedded in his right hand against Malchi’s, sending his abilities info over directly to Malchi’s brain. There was no way to fake this. The spirit gems could never lie or be falsified. The retired General just sat there a moment in silence. Zale realized he must have been louder than he intended because the music had stopped playing and everyone in the tavern was watching him.
Before the General could gather his thoughts Zale left. He walked right for the door without looking back. The monk followed right on his heels, not wanting to stay longer in the outer edge of the city than needed. By the time Zale reached the Spirit Hall the General was already out of his mind completely. He just hoped whoever the Senior Abbot assigned as his master would be able to help him gain control of his F rank ability Lightning Rod. He thought briefly about returning to Jeskai City for a master but realized it would be a waste of time. It had taken him two weeks to travel to Delvers Ridge and it would take him just as long to return to Jeskai City. Only one year was given to train after the awakening ceremony. An entire month being wasted in travel could make a huge difference. Whatever master he found in Delvers Ridge would have to do.
General Malchi on the other hand couldn’t get Zale out of his head for one second. He didn’t even drink an on the house glass of his favorite whiskey. And as he sobered up the vision of that ability he was all too familiar with flashed before his eyes over and over again like a ghost. That ability was what he hated most in the world. It had ruined him. F rank ability Lightning Rod. He wished he had never seen that ability. He wished no one ever awakened to it. He wanted it gone from the world. He wanted a second chance at conquering it.