V. Adax

Adax wasn’t a morning person, even after two decades of his life being forced out of his bedroll in the orphanage and onto his daily chores. Bleary-eyed, he sat with the small group of Concipios, in the middle of the night, at yet another lecture hall. Spacious, with high ceilings adorned with intricate mouldings and rows of wooden desks arranged in a semicircle. From the outside, the Cloak left the polished floors gleaming, as its dancing light seeped in through the windows lining the walls. On the raised platform at the foot of the desks, stood not a heavy wooden lectern but two chairs, facing one another. In one of them was a middle-aged man —Vector, black-clad— with greying hair and legs crossed at the ankles, his frame unsurprisingly strong and lean for a Vector. A Scion, Mavi, was talking to them. “The stronger the Concipio, the more Vectors they can guide. In contrast, a Vector can only manifest under the guidance of one Concipio at a time. This could prove particularly useful in a battle, if a Vector loses their Concipio or vice versa.” Adax yawned. They knew all that. Scion Mavi went on. “The Cloak has one purpose and one purpose alone; it acts as an amplifier for you. It helps you locate the power within a Vector, and usually, most Concipios are able to do so on their own, no amplifying needed, after a few successful pairings. Now, you will all try to pair with Vector Malan.” Several hours passed, judging by the sunlight bouncing off the Cloak. He was the last one to step on that platform and sit opposite the Vector, who seemed bored and tired. All the other Concipios had left already, a few of them managing to make a successful pairing. Adax clasped hands with the man. The Scion had left the room after being called to deal with an urgent matter, so he just did what he had heard her say to the rest. He closed his eyes and waited until his brain found a way to visualise the connection. Surprisingly fast, he saw a river with a large rock hindering its flow. The water was building up and overflowing around the rock. It needed an outlet. It was so easy. He didn’t understand why the other Concipios had failed. He pictured walking to the river and picking up the rock; It weighed barely anything. The second he did that, he felt an intense heat lick his face and opened up his eyes to see the Vector in flames. No, the Vector was the flames, and was smiling at him. “Good job, kid.” Adax dropped his hands. The man immediately resumed his previous state, clothes and body unscathed. Adax slumped on his chair, satisfied. A Concipio indeed. He got up from the chair, when suddenly, he felt a strong tug from deep inside him, pulling his attention inwards. He struggled to speak, and he frantically grabbed his own throat as it felt that no air was coming in, looking at the Vector in horror. The Vector looked back, naked shock in his expression. Then the man lunged forwards and grabbed Adax’s hands again. Adax took a deep breath, the first gulfs of air grating his chest like sawdust. The man stared at him, and said, “Speak of this to no one.” His eyebrows were creased, his voice low and pleading. Adax could not yet form the words to ask the man what he meant. The Scion’s voice filled the room. “Malan. Are we done here?”, she asked. “Yes,” the Vector replied, squeezing tightly Adax’s hands once before letting go. “He paired, but he struggled.” The Scion nodded. “Good. Concipio Adax, go get some rest.”. Adax got up, confused and scared. His legs shook, but he didn’t need to be told twice. He stole a glance at the Vector, and left.