Birthright-The Technomage Archive by B.J. Keeton Read Free Book Online

holding—” Squalt stopped midsentence when he saw that Ceril wasn’t holding onto his sword any longer. “Where is your sword, Ceril?”
    Ceril held his palms face up and looked at them. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. He had come in with the sword, and he was sure he had never let go of it. Yet, it was not in his hand, nor was it beside his chair or at his feet. The young man hopped up and looked all around the chairs and couch. “I really have no idea, sir.”
    Ceril looked at Professor Nephil, who had a slight grin on his face, as though he thought the whole situation was mildly amusing, but not actually funny enough to laugh at.
    “ Interesting,” Squalt said. The headmaster didn't say what about it was interesting, though. Instead, he moved directly in front of Professor Nephil and handed him the orange sword. The aura immediately shifted colors, from the orange-brown it had been, to a bright blue laced with a silver swirl that constantly rotated from hilt to tip. The headmaster took the sword back and the color became the subdued orange-brown once again.
    He then held it out for Ceril to take, but the young man would not take it.
    “ It's okay, Ceril,” Professor Nephil said. “Just hold it for a second.” It was the first thing that Professor Nephil had said since they had been in the office. The smirk on his face was almost reassuring enough for Ceril to believe him. Almost.
    “ I-I…” Ceril said. “No, no, thank you.”
    “ It’s okay, Ceril,” Squalt said. “Nothing bad is going to happen to you. I just want to test something out with my sword, since we’ve already seen how yours reacts to you.”
    “ What do you mean?” Ceril asked. “It’s not my sword. I-I…” His voice trailed off.
    “ Take it,” the headmaster said. He offered him the sword again. “Please.”
    Ceril hesitated, but eventually reached out and took hold of the sword’s hilt. Again, the blade shifted color. This time, the blade glowed with the bright green and purple that the now-vanished one had at Presentation. The aura was larger and brighter than it was when either Squalt or Nephil had held it. Ceril shoved it back toward the headmaster, but fumbled and dropped it on the floor instead. The glow immediately faded. The blade glinted gold, but nothing else. Ceril wanted to ask what was going on, but the words were stuck in his throat. He just stared at the sword instead.
    The headmaster bent down and picked up the sword. He walked slowly around the perimeter of the room and secured the sword in the empty spot on the wall behind his desk. He then sat down, leaned forward, and steepled his fingers. ”Ceril, you're a very special young man, do you know that?”
    Ceril was silent.
    “ I am afraid, however, that you will not be able to study agriculture at Ennd's during Phase II.”
    That news was enough to break Ceril’s silence. “But…” he muttered. “But…Gramps…”
    “ Instead,” Headmaster Squalt said, rising from his seat, “you will train as a Charon. You seem to have an innate connection with Flameblades that I haven’t seen in years, if not decades or longer. Have you, Lim?”
    “ No,” Professor Nephil said. “Not in a great, long time.”
    “ I can’t say if that connection will be enough to get you through the training, Ceril, but it is likely to give you an advantage over other Recruits.”
    “ I don't know what you're talking about, sir,” Ceril said.
    “ Has your grandfather told you nothing about Ennd’s, young man? About what is expected of you?”
    “ I—umm—he—” Ceril stammered. He recalled the stories Gramps had told him the week before. If there were Instances here, how many of those other legends had connections to Ennd’s?
    “ Well, either way,” the headmaster interrupted, “your grandfather should have told you this was coming. He, of all people, should know that you weren’t going to be able to study,” the headmaster laughed,