Into the Unreal

1 Firian To Yanon and Lithia Kess, I am the new Head of the Tanyuin Academy. Come with the bearer of this letter. Firian Kess That was all the message needed to say. Firian set down the pen, took a deep breath, and looked down at the curve of the letters. When Sias Jairon’s invitation arrived in his parents’ hands years ago, each lilt of the strong letters had spoken of promise, magic. Did the last Head’s message look so short? Firian sat back in his chair, running his thumb against the armrests. The Tanyuin Head’s office in the Academy was small and stark, but powerful. The blank stone walls, gray like every other room in the Academy, suited him. Scarcity, simplicity, cold—these all made Firian feel more alive. They called attention back to the hot blood coursing through his veins, his own strength, his own stamina. The superiority of the Unreal. The Unreal. Its colors put reality to shame. And the possibilities… He was a god in that imaginary space. And now he was in charge of its best warriors, those who could take out generals and tacticians through mind warfare, spread fear through dreams, communicate with the farthest reaches of the world in an instant. His eyes strayed over the page one more time. Stamped red at the top of the paper, the Tanyuin seal confirmed who he was. It left no room to doubt the position he now held, one of the greatest and most feared in the world. This note would prove his father wrong. Firian had amounted to something. Brett should come too. The realization flooded his mind like the forgotten answer to a question. His sister, at least, would be proud of him. Recent memories crowded in and his stomach clenched uncomfortably. Will she be proud of me? The last Head had steered the Academy into darkness, into war and confusion, clinging to fearful traditions, using its warriors like they were property. He had deserved to die. Firian’s heart thumped as the image of the man’s face returned. The wide eyes, the ashy skin, the struggling legs kicking for breath, the one word uttered in disbelief— “Firian?” The memory moved as he blinked like the negative image of bright light, bright darkness. Firian flexed his clammy hands and stood. He leaned over just to add Bring Brett. Taking the letter to the door of the office, he fought the urge to look at it one more time. He couldn’t help feeling that the little piece of paper didn’t properly convey its own importance. A little note couldn’t express how hard he had worked every day to earn his skills, or the sacrifices he’d made on behalf of the Academy to get to this point. Well, maybe his family had already heard about when he took Kiria hostage. It was news across the continent. Only his promise to work with her instead of against her, now that they were both in power, had created a tenuous truce. Master Belik sat just outside in the stone hallway. He must have dragged a chair from a nearby room so his leg wouldn’t bother him. I need to appoint a new guard. Firian didn’t want to think about what had happened to the last one. Belik turned when he opened the door, his bull neck craning. Light from the hall torches reflected off his glasses, hiding his eyes. “Wrote a letter, did you?” Firian handed it to him. “See that it gets to my family in Raewhith.” The Master moved his head just enough that Firian could see Belik’s eyes rove around his face, evaluating where they both stood in this new relationship. Belik wouldn’t suffer himself to become an errand boy. But this was important to Firian. The Master hummed deep in his throat, almost a growl. Then one side of his mouth lifted. “Telling them the good news?” “Yes.” After all they’d done, they couldn’t afford to mistrust each other now. If prodded, Firian still felt rage like a deep bruise from the lies Belik had told. But the Master was also one of the only people who had believed Firian could end up here, in this office. After Firian moved out of their shared room to stay in the very place where he’d suffocated Sais Jairon in his bed, Bard had hardly spoken to him—as though Firian had done something wrong, when he had only taken drastic action for the good of the Academy. Bard’s cautions still echoed regularly in his mind, but the two of them spent no time together anymore. Strangely, he wished Bard would understand. Firian wouldn’t admit it, but he missed him. Still seated, Belik stretched his jaw. “So, do you want me to send this”—he held up the letter, the bottom of it scrunched in his hand—“or wait for the scouts?” “Send that. Right away. I’ll wait for the scouts.” Belik had told Firian what to do thousands of times. Now it was Firian’s turn. Clearly grumpy, Belik rose from the chair, cursing the stiffness in his leg as he walked away toward the inner courtyard. His uneven footsteps overlapped with the patter of new ones getting louder down the hall. A border patroller marched three people bound in front of him. Bold of him to conduct all three scouts himself. Firian found himself liking the patroller. The scouts from Brithnem wore brown and green and tan clothing. Firian scrutinized them from their heads to their dirty boots. No weapons. Unlike scouts from other countries, people from Brithnem almost never matched. Too much Khelê blood. In fact, one of the scouts, the only woman, was definitely Khelê. She was stout but attractive, a few years older than Firian, with a milky white eye and tattoos on the side of her head that didn’t have a wave of blonde hair. The two men varied as well. One, the tallest of the group, had a beard and was muscled like a seasoned fighter, while the other reminded Firian of a deer, thin and graceful. Firian waved them all into his office. The door clicked closed behind them. “So these are the Kingdom scouts.” He strolled once again behind his desk, the one where all the leaders had sat since the Tanyu split from the Amir so long ago. None of the scouts showed fear. Didn’t they know what he could do to them? What any other Tanyuin Head would do to them? But he had promised Kiria to send them back unharmed. She’d be waiting for them, for the end of the Tanyuin War, for proof that she could trust him. Firian took a deep breath. The border patroller forced the three of them to their knees. Firian’s face flushed. “You’ve come on secret land,” he said. “No one has come from outside and lived.” The thin man leaned, almost imperceptibly, toward the woman in the center as though for protection or comfort. The woman’s white eye grew wider, but she bared her teeth, almost animal-like in defiance. Their sweaty stink began to fill the office. Firian had to watch his words. The border patroller carried a large sword, unsheathed. Firian couldn’t let him misunderstand and stain the floor black-red. “But today,” he continued, “we have the same goal. I am the new Tanyuin Head, and my plans are different from my predecessor.” His lip curled with the word different. “I want to end the war between us.” Already tired of the desk between them, Firian came back around it to stand directly over the scouts. His body cast a torchlight shadow across them. “As proof, I will let you live.” The woman’s chest rose and fell, the only sign of her relief. The patroller’s hand didn’t relax its grip on the sword. “Tomorrow, you’ll return to Brithnem with my terms, and the Academy’s location will no longer be secret.” He felt the force of the patroller’s surprise. His mouth slackened and his knuckles burned white on the hilt. The hum of unsaid questions whirred through the air. Firian stood taller, sure in his decision. The Academy would be exposed, but this decision would provide undeniable proof that Kiria could trust him. He could recruit soldiers from neighboring towns, fend off bands of curious mercenaries, or even whole armies with the Kingdom on his side. Open trade would bring more wealth and power to the Tanyu. Though he hated giving up a long-held secret, he would just hold tightly to the ones that remained about his famed warriors. “Bring my terms to the Second Keeper. When she accepts them, the war will end.” Kiria. He wouldn’t let the other Keepers make such a crucial decision. What did they matter? He ended this war for her. Together, they could use their power to do whatever they wanted. She probably still had that notebook of ideas of how to lead the Kingdom with justice, peace, order… Warmth, almost a caress, snuck up the back of his neck into his hairline. He jerked his head. “Get them up.” The patroller kicked the woman’s heels and the three of them trundled to their feet. “You’ll stay with the border patrollers tonight. In the morning, I’ll give you the terms.” He caught the man’s eye as he turned the three of them away. Don’t hurt them. The patroller nodded, disappointment in his eyes.