Marc Arden and the Siphilon Academy

- The Grave Grove

That night, an intense fire flared up in Marc's dreams. And in the heart of the fire stood a girl, a year or so younger than Marc, face tight in pain and throat constricted in strain. She didn't have the ability to even scream. Marc started disciplining the fire, his anger coursing fear into the inferno. The fire receded into nothing and Marc found himself staring at the girl. She looked so like him, the only difference between them being her short blonde hair. She had lean limbs like Marc, and as Marc looked more closely, he caught a small bicep pushing her forearm skin out. She stared back at Marc his same dark grey eyes, tearful. She called out to him, but the words were incomprehensible.

The dream dissolved into the past as Marc jolted awake, breathing heavily, perspiration covering his forehead. Marc was surprised to find that he had tears rolling down his cheeks. Marc rushed towards the washroom, the slender face of the girl haunting him in his wake.

He splashed cold water on his face and left the washroom. He stumbled groggily to the stables and sat beside the sleeping horses. It was still dark but a wisp of light on the horizon shot out towards the sky and Marc knew it was time to leave. He roused the horses awake and got them ready. Then hurried back up to get Dom.

One hour later, they were at the outskirts of Acanon. Dom swung himself off his horse, gripping the package of swords. He ripped the brown paper open, just as Marc landed on his feet with a flourish. Conflagre eyed him, looking bored.

Dom laid the swords on the floor and picked up the shorter one, handing it to Marc.

"What do we need these for?" Marc asked, pulling the sword out of its sheath and whooping at the shiny blade. The hilt was dark grey and plain. Marc practiced a few swings with his new weapon before returning it to its sheath.

Dom opened his mouth, before closing it again in quick succession. "Uhh, wolves. Wild animals. That kind of a thing." He shrugged. "We might find them handy."

Marc just nodded, strapping the sheath around his waist, under his tool belt, which still held the dagger of red and blue and black.

Marc mounted Conflagre without another word. The latter whinnied happily. Dom strapped in his sheath as well, before proceeding to unpack his bow and quiver of arrows on his horse's back. He mounted his black stallion and hitched up the bow and quiver onto his right shoulder.

"You'd think we were at war, the way you're acting." Marc chimed.

Dom glanced back at the hazy view of Acanon.

"We'd best get going." He tilted his gaze upwards, speaking in a hoarse voice.

Now the entire sky around the horizon was glowing with soft light. They rode in silence, knowing that there is a long journey ahead of them, Marc had an elating feeling that he wouldn't be back at Acanon for a very long time.

By the time they reached the main path to Cartrile, Marc was growing restless. He couldn't stand the silence and he hated the stiffness that seeped into his limbs. But the thoughts of the girl he dreamt about bothered him the most. With no distractions, it was all he could think of.

Dom clearly noticed Marc's discomfort, so he cleared his throat and began speaking,

"The Siphilons."

"Huh?"

"The higher beings of humans controlling the land."

That got Marc's attention. He readied himself for a long story, easing his grip Conflagre, and leaning on his pack, waiting for Dom to continue.

"A species of evolved humans that could bend elements at will, the guardians of Lorenzia."

"Who were they?"

"They had a leader by the name of Paderon, a Lorenzic name." Dom spaced out in his thoughts before continuing. "He is said to have lived a long plentiful life of a hundred and twenty-one years. He led the Siphilons for only twelve years though. Throughout his reign, a war broke out between two factions of Siphilons, the Elbendi against the Offbendi. Some of the weaker Siphilons - the Offbendi - began demanding control over stronger elements. Many Siphilons died during the first year of the war, almost half of them in total, gone. Everyone else forced into hiding. Both sides had traded major blows and neither side wanted to risk any more Siphilons. Paderon managed to bring about a truce to peacefully negotiate terms over elements. The two factions met at the peak of Mount Garescint, the tallest mountain situated in Andergard, you would know it as the Palm. This is where things turn uglier than ever before in Siphilon history. Paderon talked in fluent Lorenzic to his people and convinced them that fighting isn't the solution to the dispute."

Marc shook his limbs, relieving them from the stiffness, before getting back to listening to what Dom has to say.

"Both factions got along just fine and started to celebrate. They started to drink and dance and enjoy themselves for once, after being at war for so long. Paderon was too pleased with his accomplishment - in keeping peace between the Siphilons - to remain vigilant. Just as both factions prepared messengers to convey message to other Siphilons that war is over, one of Paderon's men stumbled drunkenly into an adversary and slit his throat. The opposition saw this as a break in the truce and a sign of hostility. Within seconds a fully-fledged brawl spread across the mountain peak. Paderon tried in vain to suspend the fight but the thirst for revenge from the enemy was frightening. The brawl ended two days later with many more Siphilons dead and Paderon gravely injured. The entire top half of the Mount Garescint was reduced to rubble. The Siphilons once again receded into hiding, biding their time, and living to rise another day. From that day onwards, Paderon lost a lot of power. He lost a lot of men too. Some dying from the oppositions blows, and some thinking Paderon was dead, and giving in to the enemy. The little rivalry left is the fight between the opposition and the Siphilons who still loved life too much to give up. Here ends Paderon's reign."

Dom wiped a tear from his stricken face as he turned silent after the story. He rode a few paces forward to hide his expression. Marc thought the story was an exciting one and seemed true enough. Still, Marc had some doubts.

"How did you know of this story?"

Dom looked back at Marc in slight disappointment and said,

"Just a childhood fairy-tale."

"Then why does it still cause your emotions to get the better of you?"

"Simple, I have happy memories tied to this story that are very dear to me and somehow I remember every single detail said about this story."

Marc recalled his meeting with the mysterious beast in the Palm to himself. How it still felt so real, so familiar, so strong.

"Thank you for the story," Marc replied.

"You're very welcome." Concluded Dom.

They rode on in silence for about half an hour when Marc regained his restlessness. He cleared his throat.

"Dom, we can't ride much longer. I thought Cartrile was about a day away, you don't possibly expect us to reach there today do you?"

"Oh no Marc, you've lost your usual critical flare. Zero out of three this time. One, we aren't going to ride for much longer. Two, Cartrile is two days away, not one. And three, I don't at all wish to reach Cartrile today."

"But the guide says that Cartrile is a day away!" Marc protested. "And there isn't a clearing around here where we can rest, we missed the last one a mile back. So where would we stay if we aren't going to ride for much longer?"

"I'm glad you asked me that Marc. We'd be spending a day in a grove of mine just about…." Dom veered off the path into a narrow alley between two massive swaying hedges. If Dom hadn't pointed out the entrance, Marc wouldn't have even seen the alley.

They rode through the hedges, so tall around Marc, it made him feel so minute. Marc caressed the hedges with his outstretched hands as he rode atop Conflagre. His horse whinnying appreciatively at the greenery.

"…Here!" Dom concluded. Marc streamed into the grove just behind Dom.

He whistled. The grove was… There was nothing to call it but beautiful. The entire land was covered in rows and columns of vegetation and luscious looking flowers. In the middle of the foliage stood a massive, magnificent medieval made residence.

Dom led Marc down a central path towards the building. Marc took all of it in, awestruck.

"Who maintains all these plants. Surely you don't ride all the way here to water them yourself?"

"You're right. These parts experience plenty of heavy rain, just enough to sustain all this vegetation. But I ride here every weekend just to check on the place, or when I need some time alone."

Just as they were nearing the foot of the building, Dom swung himself off his horse and pulled it towards a stable to the side. Just then Marc realized that he didn't know the name of Dom's horse.

"Uhhh, Dom? Have you named your horse yet?"

Dom made sure his horse was resting, then doubled back to get Conflagre. Marc slid off Conflagre's back, shooting a questioning look at Dom. He smiled and said,

"I call him Paderon." Dom left with Conflagre, shouting over his shoulder, "Get some vegetables and fruits and wait in the house, I'll be back to make some stew."

Marc shouted back assurance and leaped through the rows of plants, picking his favourite. He loved running around his green companions back at the Palm, "how different could this be?" He thought, as picked a bunch of apples for the horses for good measure.

He returned back to the building an hour later, his arms full of cabbages, tomatoes, potatoes, chilli and rosemary. He deposited all the foraging on a large round table at the centre of the living room and looked around.

The room floor was carpeted in thin, red nylon. Behind the round table, on the far side wall rested an unresponsive fireplace. Right around on the other walls stood cabinets and shelves of books, lots and lots of books, and a few ornaments here and there.

The main feature of the room that amazed Marc the most was an intricately made chandelier that hung high up the ceiling. The crystals on it had a sense of deepness, Marc found pleasure losing himself staring into those crystals. They hung themselves on a thin rod of glass, slowly revolving.

Reluctantly, Marc turned right around to where he had entered the house from. He had already seen and felt the big oak door with the enormous door knocker and doorknob. He made his way to one of the alcove windows and gazed outside. Something else caught his attention.

There was an outcropping of rock that stood somewhere to the left corner of the grove, it was weirdly shaped and multicolored, as if the rock was made up of many different materials. Marc squinted closely at the rock and made out a hunching figure on the ground next to it. He recognized the figure to be Dom.

Curiosity fought to get the better of Marc. He decided that instead of stomping there and disturbing Dom for answers, he would wait for him to return.

Marc slinked away from the window and propped himself onto a chair around the table. He grabbed a plum from the pile of food and munched unto it. Flavour flooded into his mouth, making his glands ache.

Sighing contentedly, he leaned against the chair and closed his eyes.

A girl looked up at him, her features blurry. She seemed to be chained at her feet. Marc sensed that she was screaming before he came, but now that he was here she just looked at him questioningly. As Marc neared her, she righted herself and crossed her arms awkwardly.

Marc realized her intentions. It was as if she was speaking to him, "Well? Are you gonna do something or what?"

Marc tried to think of a way to free the girl but all he got back was a feeling of helplessness. His feeling of helplessness turned into a feeling of anger at himself. He had to do something. He decided he would use his anger to help him. He closed his eyes and searched around his body. Suddenly he felt a tug at his arms and sensed his anger seeping into them.

He forced his eyes open and immediately squinted his eyes, for his arms were lit in bright flame. Fear made his arms flare. He willed the fire to die down, and like a sixth sense, he felt a portion of the fire withdraw into him.

He noticed the girl clapping a hand around her mouth. He concentrated on keeping the flame small but increasing the temperature of the flame to just about right.

Lowering his hands to the chains at her ankles, Marc slowly but effectively melted the chains. They fell loose, and the girl stepped forward. Marc immediately extinguished the flames.

The girl threw her arms around Marc in a hug but passed right through him. Disappointed, she turned and ran, shouting behind her back,

"I'll be back soon!"

Marc felt himself tear apart as the girl ran away, his arms lit up again as he fell, drowning in his sleep.

He jerked awake as the main door boomed open. He found his arms glowing in soft fire and hurriedly flapped his arms, panicking. A fleck of fire shot out towards the fireplace. He was horrified and didn't know what it meant at all. He felt a slight loss of strength and a sinking feeling. Any moment Dom would appear at the entrance room. Marc flapped his arms faster until all the flames disappeared. He sighed in relief.

Dom entered the living room, his face impassive, but Marc noticed damp lines drawn down his cheeks. He eyed Dom, confused.

"Everything all right?" Marc asked him tentatively.

Dom eyed him back, saying nothing. His eyes moved from him, to the pile of food he collected, to the singed tablecloth next to Marc. Dom walked out of sight, closing the door behind him and locking it. It was almost evening and Marc was starving. To prevent the tension that was sure to follow, Marc got up and started preparing the vegetable for stew.

Marc sensed Dom staring at his back, but Marc purposefully began peeling the potatoes with his sword.

Dom sighed and dropped the backpacks they both had brought when leaving Acanon. Only a few stale breads remained inside.

"What was that rock out there? I saw you idling around it." Marc inquired.

Dom flinched, then blurted out quickly, "It's a grave."

Marc paused, not sure how to react.

Dom walked across the length of the living room to Marc, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder to indicating that he is fine. He then bustled around the kitchen, getting bowls and spoons for the stew.

"Ah, we seemed to have run out of water. Would you mind starting a fire while I get some water?" Dom asked Marc.

"Not at all."

Dom disappeared into the house and Marc heard a back door swing open and thud to a close. Excited, Marc crossed the room, kneeling in front of the fireplace. The tiny fleck of fire hovered over it, whizzing around wildly. Marc steeled himself, before clamping a fist around the fleck of fire. He flinched but didn't feel any pain. Slowly, he lowered his hands down to the firewood and opened his fists, his palm flat against a piece of firewood. Soon enough, the firewood starting smoking, fire flared to life.

Exhausted but pleased with himself, Marc rubbed his hands rested against the wall next to the fireplace. Dom returned with a pitcher full of water and stared at the crackling fireplace with an amused expression. He began setting up utensils over the fire to make the stew.

"Dom? I wanted to ask, why was Paderon elected as the Siphilon Leader?" Marc wondered out aloud.

Dom looked back at Marc, undoubtedly taken aback by the nature of Marc's question. He turned back to the stew and began speaking,

"Some say it was because of pure nepotism because his great uncle had been the previous Siphilon Leader. But I believe that Paderon had great control over elements. At the age of nineteen, he discovered that his dominant element was Fire. Now, Fire is a rare element to start with, and even harder to control. It takes years to master control over fire entirely. Nevertheless, Paderon developed full control of fire at the age of just twenty one. No small feat. At his same age, many other Siphilon youths had just witnessed the first signs of their dominant elements. Later on, Paderon earned the power to control the element of the Sun. One of the rarest of elements a Siphilon can even witness in action. Siphilons that master the Sun element have the potential to control all the elements below it. So Paderon had half of the elements under his control. The only person who could rival Paderon's feat was a woman called Delaneira. She was the exact counter of Paderon. Which meant that she had control over the Moon element, and the other half of the elements under it. Both Delaneira and Paderon were in the same faction, the Elbendi. But Paderon believed that men were more in command and didn't require Delaneira's presence at the peace talks at Mount Garescint. As you know it was there that Paderon lost the most he has ever lost in his life." Dom spat the last bit out bitterly.

He finished fixing up the stew and both of them filled up their bowls, eager to relieve the constantly nagging hunger in the pits of their stomachs.

As they were eating, Dom and Marc discussed the plan for the journey ahead.

"…so tomorrow we'll reach Cartrile, then what?" Marc inquired after Dom proposed their destination.

"You did say you'd run off to live on your own, didn't you?"

"Yeah but now we both know that's not happening after you entered the equation."

"Well, in that case we'll stop at Cartrile to buy some supplies, and I've got to deal with some personal matters that have recently arisen. After that, we'll be well on our way to Middenheim."

Realization dawned on Marc.

"B-But that's where my mother…" Stammered Marc. "Why Middenheim?"

"Yes, Marc." Dom smiled kindly at Marc with soft eyes. "Your mother. She is just the person I intend to meet."

"D-Do you know her?" Was all Marc said. Dom obliged himself to answer the questions Marc never could figure out.

"I have met her only once before, don't ask me what her name is, because…" Dom said in quick succession so as not to leave any room for Marc to interrupt. "…I believe that she herself is responsible for disclosing her name, I'm sorry. What I can say is that she is very much like yourself, always sporting a strong posture and kept herself in high demeanour. Just by speaking to her, anyone can get an implication that she is a very well-educated person. I am very glad to have known a person like her."

Marc waited patiently for a few seconds for Dom to continue, not wanting him to stop, but understandingly, Marc dropped the conversation. He himself wanted to hear everything straight from his mother, not Dom. Part of him was angry at himself for not asking his father much about his mother, and part of him was angry at his mother for living away all these years. But most of all, he held his father responsible for all this. His father was the one who tore apart their family.

Anger boiled inside him and Marc felt his hands tingle slightly. He scowled, willing himself to calm down, not wanting to cause any sudden explosions of fire. Dom raised his eyebrows at Marc's expression but decided not to quote on it.

"I daresay you'd like some time to yourself to process all that information. And it is getting late, we should rest while we can, and resume riding at dawn."

Marc finished his stew, wiped his mouth with the cuff of his sleeve, and secretly removed any traces of tears welling up in front of his eyes, then stood up.

"Where are the bedrooms?" Marc's voice shook slightly, and Marc felt ashamed of his lack of emotional control. Dom disregarded it and motioned for Marc to follow him.

They headed into the central part of the house and to a double staircase with intertwined partitions, designed intricately. Dom and Marc leaped up the steps, two at a time, and arrived at a landing with one door visible. Dom made Marc wait out while he disappeared behind the door. Dom nudged the door back open with his foot, cradling a big pack of dried meat in his hands.

Marc shot him a rhetorical look but continued following Dom to the next floor. Dom showed Marc the way to his room, handing the meat package to Marc with clear instructions to keep it in an open area in his room, so they wouldn't forget to pack the meat in with the rest of their inventory.

Marc nodded to all of this without paying much attention to Dom. All he wanted to do was lie on a bed on his own and fantasize him meeting his mother for the first time in years.

Dom instructed Marc to go rest, then flashed him a smile before twisting on one heel and heading off in the opposite direction. Marc sighed and hefted the pack of meat securely in his hands and followed the directions Dom had given him. He stopped outside a simple, flat door. No fancy carvings or anything. He swung the door open, careful not to drop any meat, and headed inside. He dropped the pack of meat in the centre of the room, at the foot of a four-poster bed, and looked around. The room looked very cosy, the whole floor was carpeted, and the bed looked so luxurious it even rivalled the beds Marc's father had purchased back at home. There was a wardrobe off to a side of the room, right next to a door leading to a fixed bathroom. Marc entered the bathroom and tried the taps, no water.

Marc sighed and leaned against one of the posters of his bed, ready for a good night sleep. He swung himself around the poster and plopped himself on the bed, sinking into the plush pillows and quilt with a content sigh.

Marc closed his eyes but reluctantly forced them open when he heard the door creak. Dom entered the room, carrying a round package in his arms. He set the package next to Marc on the bed and said,

"Open this when I leave and keep it close. Don't let anything happen to it."

He ruffled Marc's hair and turned off the room lights and with a wish of goodnight, he left the room. Marc groaned as he uprighted himself. He carefully opened the package and a white thing rolled onto the bed.

At first Marc thought it was a football, but closely examining it, Marc recognised that it was an egg. A really big one. Marc stared at it, extremely confused. Coming to a conclusion that Dom had the best intentions at heart, Marc carefully wrapped the egg against his chest, pressed onto his faded scar, and closed his eyes. To be honest, he was too tired to bother himself with the egg. He drifted off into deep sleep.

"Brother."

While running, Marc looked up into the night sky, the stars twinkled brightly at him, reassuring him.

"Brother."

Marc looked down onto his left and saw his sister running at his side. His sister smiled shyly and pointed to the right of him.

"My son."

Marc looked on to his right and saw a woman, gliding along with him, feet not touching the ground, blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. The woman placed a hand on his shoulder and closed her dark grey eyes. Marc looked back at his sister and slowly a broad smile stretched across his face. His sister nodded reassuringly and placed her hand on his other shoulder. She closed her eyes as well.

Marc looked up at the night sky and laughed. The clouds parted away, and the stars glowed. The moon glistened so bright, it shone like a beacon through the night sky. The moonlight shot towards him and hugged his chest. He sensed happiness and love channeling into him from the light. Instinctively, he brought forth the sense of fire inside him, directing it to his chest. As soon as the flaming, orange firelight and the glistening, pale moonlight met, it sparked and turned bright gold.

Marc breathed in happily, but suddenly he felt something dissipate from the light. He cried out as the clouds across the sky and engulfed the moon, wiping the trail of moonlight away, leaving his chest gold. He failed to control his sadness and burst forth an eruption of fire. He felt his legs give away, no energy left to fuel them. He fell down onto the ground, wrapped inside a raging inferno.

Alone.