11. Chapter Eleven

I kept thinking about that guardsman throughout the day, and I didn’t like it.

Sure, he was devastatingly attractive, but he was hardly the first man that I’d ever set eyes on or even taken interest in since I’d arrived in Sophrosyne. Or woman, for that matter. There were thousands of people to encounter every day here, and plenty of them were attractive. I hadn’t even spoken two words to this man. I didn’t even know his name. Why did I want to know his name?

Gods.

This was absurd. I needed to go eat, or study, or something. Clearly, I was out of sorts.

As I made my way towards the dining hall, I busied my mind with thoughts of what I’d actually learned from the lecture.

Certain elements of aether were considered parallels to one another: Fire and Water, Air and Earth, Light and Shadow. These parallels made it easier to draw from one to produce the other, due to their opposing natures. Scholars believed this had something to do with where they fell on the known spectrum of aether. It was theorized that pure aether could be broken down into elemental… fractals? Shards? Something like that.

It was pure aether that flowed through our veins alongside the blood, and so it was pure aether that we returned to the Source whenever we mortals passed on. The aether used in arcana, however, was but a fragmented version of this pure, primary source of power and life.

Professor Larkin had explained it better, but I had admittedly been distracted.

Essentially, what I knew from Amaretta was that elements were merely parts to a whole when it came to aetheric energy, and certain elements worked best together, the spellwork was stronger when you used them accordingly.

That wasn’t to say that you couldn’t draw from Fire to produce Earth arcana—aether was omnidirectional in that way. It was just easier to produce results by using parallels, and for mortals? We needed all the help we could get compared to the Aetherborne.

When I reached one of the dining halls on campus where the Studium offered basic daily fare for students, I was a bit bored with what they had available.

I was a bit bored in general, really. After the lecture in the Wyldwoods, Laurel had invited me out to some networking event at the Biblyos tonight, but I told her I had other plans. It was a lie, of course, but the idea of rubbing elbows with a bunch of sons and daughters of the noblesse made me itchy. I liked Laurel, but she felt more like an exception—almost everyone else that I had encountered so far had been more of the same from my experience on the ship. Not that I had exactly gone looking for anything beyond a few stray conversations with my classmates so far.

As I deliberated over the leafy, spinach-heavy main course, the sudden impulse struck me. Why not skip the salad offerings, and pass the remainder of my evening by partaking in one of my favorite hobbies instead? Obviously, I wasn’t the most social of creatures, but I did love to observe others from afar. And it was a perfect night for people watching.

I knew there was a tavern just a few blocks south, so I took off in that direction, buzzing in anticipation.

It may sound like a dull thing, just watching other people go about their evenings. But I found it fascinating—particularly in new places, and Sophrosyne was still quite new to me. I had so many patterns, turns of phrase, and common habits to learn from the locals.

Perhaps I felt drawn to this as a hobby because I often felt so different, so other in comparison to… anyone else I knew. I had felt that way for most of my life, even before my strange Resonances had manifested—though if that didn’t confirm it, I wasn’t sure what else would.

It was as if I was missing one small, but integral piece of being a human. So it had become a habit, a game almost, to mirror certain behaviors and try to slip into some semblance of normalcy. If I could parrot those around me well enough, I could surely pass myself off as somebody perfectly average. Just another Conduit.

Nobody would suspect that I had something to hide. Nobody would suspect I was different. Not in the ways that mattered.

I wasn’t about to go down that rabbit hole, though. To The Clover it was.

When I reached the tavern, I knew I had made the right choice. It was toasty warm inside, with a blazing fire in the center hearth of the large room, filled to the brim with busy, raucous energy. Various groups of people shared flagons of ale amongst themselves, talking, laughing, dancing, arguing.

This was exactly what I was looking for. I made my way through the crowds to seek something other than spinach for my evening fare. Leaning over the counter to catch the attention of the barkeep, I ordered a simple meal of meat and potatoes, waiting to retrieve it before finding myself a small, unoccupied corner table and settling in. Over a slow sip of cider, I began my observations.

A burly man across the room was trying to impress an attractive older woman leaning against the wall, and I watched intently out of the corner of my eye. I had been caught staring one too many times in the past, so I had learned how to be subtle about it. The older woman was clearly skeptical, but not entirely disinterested in whatever it was the man had to say. Meanwhile, he was preening and overconfident, finding the subject at hand to be most impressive.

With enough practice, it was easy to read people like this. It showed up in the crook of a smile, the glimmer of an eye, whether they were leaning in or out, what direction they were oriented towards. Body language had always been fascinating to me, and I had grown rather skilled with its interpretation over the years.

I snorted under my breath when the burly man ordered himself a shot of liquor, only to set it aflame before taking it down. Why was I not surprised he was a Fire Conduit?

I had set my attention on the older woman, ready to interpret her particular reactions to the Fire Conduit’s showboating, when suddenly someone bumped into my chair hard, leaving me eye level with their groin and cursing under their breath.

“So clearly, I was—ow, fuck!”

“Um, sorry?”

I could hardly see whoever stood before me because they were still so… close.

“No, no, that was my fault, I apologi— Oh.”

Oh?

I looked up at whoever was speaking.

Oh, indeed.

It was that damn guardsman. He was out of uniform, but I would recognize that face anywhere now. I nearly had it memorized. Gods, that was embarrassing to admit, even to myself.

“I would expect a captain of the Elder Guard to be a little more aware of his surroundings,” I said with a sly smile, taking a sip of my drink.

He raised his eyebrows for a moment before returning the smirk and craning his neck towards the two men he’d been conversing with just a moment ago.

“I’ll catch up with you two later,” he called over his shoulder.

I glanced at both men behind him. They were the same pair that had been with him in the Wyldwoods, I was fairly certain—and now that I got a closer look, I had to admit that this trio was a sight to behold together. All handsome in their own right, though the captain still blew them both out of the water.

I definitely recognized the man on the left, with that rich, warm brown skin of his, the tidy goatee, and his dark brown hair that had previously been pulled back into a thick bun atop his head earlier this afternoon. Now that he let it loose, I could see that it was even longer than his captain’s—the wavy, curling tips brushing the bottom of his ribcage. He was smirking now, green eyes twinkling with intrigue as he crossed his arms.

The taller man beside him carried himself differently. He was pale, and compared to his companions, he looked downright ghostly. Up close, I could see that his face was also littered with scars—but none so striking as the man who was still invading my personal space. There was a harsh one across the bridge of his nose, though, beneath stormy gray eyes that looked rather exasperated at present.

“You still owe me a drink, Vistarii,” the first man said, rolling his eyes as if this was something that happened often.

The guardsman who they had just called Vistarii—a last name, maybe?—dug into his pockets, pulled out a single gold coin and flipped it towards the man who had complained.

“Enjoy it, Hans,” he chuckled.

Great. His voice was attractive, too—all low and slow and deep. There was a slight rasp to it, as well, which I found obnoxiously sexy. As if the man needed any more advantages when he looked like that.

I couldn’t help but notice he still hadn’t moved away from where he’d bumped into me, so I was still uncomfortably close to his groin. And good gods, he was tall.

Once the other two men had headed off to the bar, the familiar guardsman finally took a step back, making it easier for me to see his face.

“Well hello there, Little Conduit,” he started with a smile and a curious tilt of his head. “How do you know I’m a captain?”

Little Conduit?

I was hardly little, and besides, he didn’t look all that much older than me. He had to be in his mid-to-late twenties at most. He could be slightly older if he was a Conduit. We aged slightly slower than the average human due to the higher amount of aether in our bodies.

I raised an eyebrow as he helped himself to the seat across from me, and answered his question with one of my own.

“How do you know that seat’s not taken?”

He tilted his head again.

“Is it?”

“I mean, no, but—”

“Ah, so you’re just changing the subject, then.”

You know, I wasn’t sure I particularly liked this man.

“I could tell based on your uniform,” I explained, feeling like this should have been a little more obvious for someone of his rank and status. “Seems like a couple of those fancy tassels and pins indicate a position of leadership.”

“That’s a pretty specific detail to pick up on for a freshling. You must have been paying very close attention, considering I was several yards away from you the entire time.”

“Freshling?” I asked him, ignoring the second implication and the smirk it had earned me.

“Fresh blood. Baby Conduit. First-year. You’re brand-new to Sophrosyne, are you not?”

“Do you keep track of all the comings and goings of the members of the Studium? That sounds exhausting,” I replied, mildly irritated by his suggestion that I was the equivalent of an infant.

“No, though I am very observant,” he replied. “Besides, you were in an entry level lecture this morning. Jude was covering the basics. Even if you weren’t paying much attention,” he added with a wink.

He had a point there. He was also irritatingly perceptive. I sighed.

“I mean yes, I suppose you can say I’m still new here. I arrived about three weeks ago, but I’m also very observant,” I replied, mimicking his tone.

“Clearly,” he said, raising an eyebrow again. That glacial blue eye was drifting a bit, examining me as if he were taking my measure. I could feel my cheeks warm under his gaze.

“Last I checked though, not everyone here is a Conduit,” I challenged.

“True, but the vast majority of us are. And almost anyone attending the Studium is. I’d put money on you being of the majority, as opposed to, you know, the less-than-one percent of the student body that is non-Resonant.”

Us.So he was a Conduit as well. Interesting.

“That would seem like a safe bet, statistically speaking,” I acquiesced, taking another sip of my cider.

“So I’m right then? You are a Conduit.”

His smirk grew, as if he took a certain pleasure in being right. He did seem the type, honestly.

“Yes, of course I’m a Conduit!”

My reply came out more exasperated than I had intended, but surely he could reach such simple conclusions on his own. He gave me a cheeky grin again, as if he could tell he was irritating me. As if he was doing it on purpose.

“What kind, though?” he asked, looking amused and rather pleased with himself after my outburst.

“An observant one, apparently,” I answered sardonically.

At that, he actually laughed—and I let myself appreciate the sound of it in spite of my vague annoyance. It reminded me of the low rumbles of thunder, if thunder could sound so inviting. The warmth in his expression after that laugh left me feeling just a hint more generous.

I raised one hand above the table, slowly wiggling a few fingertips and allowing the Light to flow forth and shimmer just long enough to answer his question, releasing it back into the aether before anyone else could notice. For a moment, his face went entirely slack, though he quickly recovered.

“Holy shit,” he said. “So much for statistics, eh, Little Conduit? You are the definition of an outlier.”

He wasn’t wrong there, either. I had known that Light and Shadow Conduits were rare when I set sail for Sophrosyne, but it wasn’t until I had actually arrived at the Arcane Studium that I began to grasp just how increasingly rare we had become over the last few centuries.

As a few scholars had already pointed out to me, there were only a handful of Shadow Conduits present in the city—and only one known Light Conduit, who split her time between Sophrosyne and the Astral amp; Umbral Isles, home to the House of Light amp; Shadow.

There were other Light Conduits in the world, of course—but it was just the two of us in Sophrosyne at any given moment, apparently. I had yet to meet her.

I ignored his question, which was clearly rhetorical.

“So, do you often find yourself tripping over chairs, joining people for their meals uninvited, and then asking them invasive questions without even introducing yourself?” I asked the stranger with an arched brow.

“My apologies, freshling,” he offered with a slight, sarcastic bow of the head. “Kieran Vistarii, Scouting amp; Reconnaissance Captain of the Elder Guard, occasional babysitter of lectures, and local asshole who trips over the chairs of very attractive women. At your service.”

“That’s a bit of a mouthful.”

“So I’ve been told,” he purred, eyes glimmering with something wicked and alluring as that smirk slid back into place.

Gods. I was beginning to think that damned expression lived permanently on the man’s irritatingly attractive face. It suited him well, though—curling up the left and exposing the slightest of dimples and his sharp jawline. And if he didn’t think I caught that innuendo…

It’s going to take more than that to make me blush, Captain.

I turned his name over in my head like a smooth stone, studying the way it fit him. Kieran Vistarii. Dark, alluring, intriguing.

“And you are…?”

“Arken,” I answered, pretending not to be flustered by the compliment that had taken me an extra moment or two to process. Tripping over the chairs of very attractive women? I probably was blushing now. “Arken Asher.”

“Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Asher. I really ought to be joining my men now before Jeremiah drinks Hans under the table and I have to carry that poor bastard home again. But I figured it was only fair to offer you some company in exchange for your forgiveness over my apparent lack of coordination,” he said.

Did he really think several minutes of his time was such a gift that he could offer it as currency in exchange for his transgressions? He was so cocky, but I held my tongue. Mostly because I liked it.

As he stood up and slid behind me in order to return to his friends, Kieran leaned over my shoulder.

“I do hope you enjoy your time here in Sophrosyne, Arken,” he purred, his mouth dropping dangerously close to my ear.

That tone of his was far too explicit to be used without intention, and my toes might have curled a bit in my boots.

Fucking Hel.

“Thanks?”

I was too tongue-tied to think of something clever, and as he walked, or rather, sauntered off to the other side of the tavern, I could’ve sworn he was chuckling to himself. I felt a pang of regret, almost wishing that I had asked him to stay and join me for a drink.

Dangerous.

If I was lucky, that would be the last I’d see of this man for a while, because he’d essentially ruined my plans. No amount of people-watching would interest me more than Kieran Vistarii, but I would be damned if I let him catch me staring.

Again.