IV. Lyra

“Quiet!”, the older Vector bellowed. Not a Scion, just a Vector. The titles of recognition were exclusively reserved for Concipios. Each young Vector was called in, one after the other, to try out their powers for the first time.  A Scion —a Concipio professor— was waiting inside to pair with them. Inexperienced Concipios such as Adax were too precious to risk pairing with an equally inexperienced Vector. The young Vectors chatted excitedly, wondering what their power would manifest as. “Lyra! You’re next! The rest of you, pipe down, I won’t say it again.” the older Vector, Malan, barked while keeping the door open for her to go through. The auditorium was the only place in the Pillar where Vectors were allowed. They had all stared in awe at the Cloak as they walked through, without getting pushed by it, for once. Built as an amphitheater, the auditorium had wooden rows of desks, cascading towards the center. “Come, child. Lyra, is it?”, the Scion asked, not unkindly. “Yes,” Lyra stood in front of the desk where the Scion was sitting. “Sit. Close your eyes”. Lyra did as she was told, and waited. And waited. She cracked an eye open. The Scion was merely sitting there, eyes closed as well, hands clasped. Her tunic was a deep forest green. Scion green. “Don’t we have to touch?”, she asked, amazed at her own audacity. The woman opened her seafoam green eyes. “An experienced Concipio doesn’t need physical connection with a Vector to close the conduit. Physical proximity is good, because the farther away you are, the weaker the pairing. But if I spend some minutes in your presence undisturbed, I will be able to tell you apart from other sources of power near us, and close our conduit as long as we are both physically close”. “You can tell us apart?”, Lyra asked, fascinated. “Like a person’s handwriting. Many may be very much alike, but there are subtle nuances which someone as experienced as I would be able to notice. Distinctive bloodlines can also be detected. I could read a Vector’s family tree, if I wanted. That’s why inexperienced Concipios need to physically interact with Vectors.” she went on, “so they don’t accidentally tap into someone else.” Lyra nodded, closed her eyes and gripped her chair. Nothing happened for several moments. Then she saw something. She gasped softly.  Deep inside her, at the essence of her, was power. Dormant, coiled tightly, glowing. Was it always there? How hadn’t she noticed? “Take a little of your power, and see what it tells you to do”, the Scion instructed. Lyra couldn’t speak. If she could, she would have asked what the hell it meant to take a little of something that wasn’t tangible, and sure as hell couldn’t tell her anything. She stretched a mental hand to the coil of power. Would that work? She needn’t have worried; almost instantly, her fingers glowed golden as power uncoiled and rushed up her arms, coating her body. She felt its happiness at being finally allowed to unfurl. She let it uncoil until she started suffocating. Her palms started sweating, and through the thundering of her heart and the ringing in her ears, she heard the Scion, let it come out, don’t hold it back. So she did just that. And promptly flew a couple meters off the floor, still gripping the chair, levitated for a few seconds and yelped, before she suddenly felt a void inside. The coil of power had disappeared; The Scion had opened the conduit. With a thud, she fell, the chair tumbling away from her, and winced as she got up, pride hurt more than her body. The Scion smiled. “Good. We can work with that.”