Awakening

Since ancient times, the Rheans performed a ceremony to celebrate the awakening of one of their own. It was a sacred ritual that the Sydurnians had outlawed when they colonized Rhea, forcing thousands of magic users to flee into the mountains.

It was a piece of their culture that Icarum’s father, Dhoro, had given up on when he sided with the Sydurnians, staying behind with his two children.

Yet here Icarum was, kneeling down in front of his grandfather, waiting for his spirit to awaken. Everyone sitting in the cafeteria was dead silent, eager to find out what Icarum’s spirit would be.

Spirits took the form of birds, which were said to descend from the Gods of Creation. The spirit that manifested in one’s body would also serve as the basis for one’s power. Strong, predatory birds would have those traits reflected in their respective spirits. Additionally, awakened spirits would often share many of the same traits as the magic-user. Although the Rheans believed that one’s spirit was predetermined at birth, most children unknowingly grew up to personify the bird they represented.

Thus, due to Icarum’s lack of muscle, the rebels watching his awakening found it unlikely that he’d be an Eagle or a Hawk. A sparrow or a jay would be the logical guess, or maybe an agile roadrunner if you wanted to take your chances.

Rhozo raised up his left hand, and a bright white orb appeared on his fingers. It turned blue, then green, then as black as night.

Later, Icarum would learn that the color would represent the affinity that Icarum’s spirit was attracted to.

The black orb that swelled up to the size of a ball caused rebels to murmur across the room. Shadow affinities were on the rarer side, and eliminated most of the possibilities of spirits that most originally guessed would manifest inside Icarum. He could maybe be a crow, or if he was lucky, a raven.

A short, chubby man covered in soot walked up to Icarum with a pair of metal wings. He told Icarum to lower his head, and he placed the wings on Icarum’s back. They stayed completely still as they were attached.

“Icarum, expergisci.”

Icarum’s body began to glow with white light, which fizzled out into a dark shadow. His heartbeat heightened, and he could feel his entire body sweating buckets.

Rhozo approached Icarum with the orb sitting on his hand. As it came closer, the air around Icarum grew thinner and began to heat up. Icarum gulped.

Rhozo placed his right hand on Icarum’s head.

“This might hurt a bit.”

Before Icarum could respond, he smacked the orb into the center of Icarum’s newly attached wings, plunging it deep into his back. His body absorbed the impact, and his wings began to shake and flutter.

Icarum screamed out in pain. He felt as if his back was being torn apart, with his spine being cracked in two.

The ritual was usually done for young children, before their bones had a chance to develop. Since Icarum was already ten, his body had to be reconstructed to create a suitable host for his spirit. Icarum’s entire body trembled and shook, like the branches of a tree during a hurricane.

His metal wings enlarged, animating into hundreds of dark feathers. Icarum’s eyes turned pitch black, blurring his vision. He wobbled from forward to backward on his knees, trying to maintain his balance, but he could no longer feel the ground with his feet.

The moment Icarum relaxed and figured the pain would subside, it would return to a different part of his body. He felt his mouth burning, and instinctively bit down as hard as he could. Blood trickled down from his lips, staining his new tunic.

The rebels fell into silence. Everyone but Icarum knew the signs of his awakening: dark feathers and bloody lips were all they needed to determine his spirit.

“Icarum Solus Nova,” Rhozo hollered, slamming his cane into the floor, eyes burning white.

“Vulturus, the god of fear and darkness, calls to you.”

Icarum slowly rose to his feet, color returning to his eyes.

“Your spirit has been awakened. From now on, you shall be known as Vulture.”

The crowd applauded, amazed at the events that unfolded in front of them.

Carla moved her chair next to Khal. “There’s never been a Vulture here, has there?”

“There hasn’t ever been a Vulture in recorded history, period.” Khal whispered. “Nobody would ever imagine for either of the two main gods of Creation to grant their power to a human.”

Rhozo signaled a couple of attendants on stand-by, and they walked to both sides of Icarum, supporting his body as he stumbled forward. While everyone gazed at his unfurled wings, Icarum slowly left the cafeteria and made his way up the stairs towards his room.

-----------------------

Rhea, Year 813 of Avia, Day 295

Icarum awoke to a familiar voice.

“If you don’t wake up, I swear I’m going to jump on you!”

Khal stood on his tippy-toes with a wicked grin on his face as Icarum rubbed his eyes. Realizing his predicament, Icarum jumped out of bed and backed away.

“Don’t you dare.”

Khal laughed. “Not that you have much with you, but you should probably pack your belongings. Master Rhozo’s gonna give you a permanent room so you don’t have to stay in this guest one.”

Icarum walked to the bathroom and started brushing his teeth.

“Oh, and one more thing. You’ll have to start attending classes today. After you get there, Master Kaza’ll give you your training assignment.”

“Wait wait wait wait. I have to attend classes?”

“I know, right? Well apparently, since the rebels want independence from Sydurnia to keep their culture and magical roots and stuff, they figured it’d all be in vain if they didn’t teach it to the next generation.” Icarum sulked in response.

Khal saluted Icarum and made his way towards the door. “Well, that’s all that Master Rhozo wanted me to tell you. See ya!”

Icarum’s mind was still foggy from the awakening yesterday, but he was beginning to remember the important details. His spirit was the Vulture, and his power was given to him by the god Vulturus.

How ironic to be granted power by the god of fear and darkness when I’m on a quest for revenge, he thought.

Before the sharp pain that he experienced, Master Rhozo held a black orb in his hand, indicating that Icaurm possessed a shadow affinity. Plus, his wings were black.

Wait. where are my wings?

They were no longer attached to his back, leaving a nasty scar on his spine. He looked around his small room, but the wings were nowhere to be found. He didn’t have the chance to examine them yesterday, so Icarum hoped that he’d be able to soon.

Icarum changed into a tunic and shorts and made his way down the hallway. It was already noon and too late for breakfast, so Icarum decided to head straight to class. Thankfully, Khal had shown him where the education sector of the cave was located the day before.

Icarum sighed. He hated school, and he despised teachers who acted all wise but didn’t really know what they were talking about. He hoped that he’d be able to make it through classes without being expelled and kicked out of the Rebel Army.

He opened the door to his classroom. “Icarum Nova, present,” he said in a dry, bored tone.

“Welcome to our class of novices!” A short, middle-aged man with a brown beard enthusiastically leaped over to Icarum to shake his hand.

“You may call me Master Kaza.” He smiled. “Take any seat you’d like!”

The class looked up at Icarum and began murmuring amongst themselves. Icarum noticed Noah sitting in the corner of the room, and took the empty seat next to him.

“Don’t mind them,” Noah said in his usual high-pitched voice. “They’re all a little on edge because of your spirit.”

“Why?”

Noah chuckled. “Do you really not know?”

“I mean, I get that Vulturus is not exactly loved by the people, but-”

“There’s never been a Vulture before. You’re the first.”

Icarum widened his eyes. “Huh?”

“There are rarer spirits than others, and yours is probably the rarest of them all.”

“Listen up!” Master Kaza shouted from the front of the room. “I know you’re all super excited about your training assignments, but you’ll get them at the end of class.”

Everyone groaned. “For now, we’re gonna do a quick lesson on history!”

Icarum leaned over to speak to Noah again. “Wait, why are you even in this class? Haven’t you been here for years or something?”

Noah placed his forehead on his desk and turned to look at Icarum with a somber look on his face.

“No matter what I do, I can’t seem to pass this class.” He pretended to cry, then grabbed Icarum’s arm.

“Icarum, you look pretty smart. Can you take my final for me?” His puppy eyes were almost too much for Icarum to resist.

Master Kaza threw a piece of chalk at Noah’s head. Noah yelped and winced in pain.

“I heard that!”

“Oh, right. Just to warn you, Icarum, this old geezer’s spirit’s a pigeon. He’ll hear whatever you say, even if you whisper. Kinda sucks. It’s part of his power or something.”

Another piece of chalk was thrown at Noah, but this time, he caught it midair. He stuck out his tongue.

I’m not the class clown for once, Icarum thought. Incredible.

Master Kaza decided to ignore Noah. “You all know the Rhean story of Creation, yes?”

The class nodded. “Since Icarum was born in the Sydurnian-controlled territories, he might know a different version than us. Why don’t you share it?”

Icarum rolled his eyes but began to speak nonetheless. He hated it when teachers randomly called on him.

“The world was created from a Holy War between Phoenicia and Vulturus. All the other gods took sides.”

Master Kaza motioned for him to continue.

“Their war threatened the existence of the world itself, so the Gods agreed to a truce. They planned to lie dormant for centuries, but before their slumber, they worked together to create humans in their own image. I believe that the Gods wanted a piece of themselves to live on before they slept. The End.”

“Thank you, Icarum.” Master Kaza squinted his eyes. “It looks like the Sydurnians have left out most of the story. Connor, can you explain the rest?”

A tall, lean boy with glasses piped up. “With pleasure, Master Kaza. The Sydurnians seem to have forgotten that the Gods bestowed power upon humans through spirits that reside within us.”

Master Kaza nodded. “Finish the story.”

“After the humans were created,” he resumed, “they were sent to different floating islands. All of them were peaceful, albeit one: the Sydurnians. Their constant civil wars awoke Phoenicia and angered them greatly. In response, she sealed their spirits, making it impossible for Sydurnians to be awakened and cast magic ever again.”

Icarum realized that the lesson wasn’t going to be just another boring lecture. His ears piqued up in interest.

“Does anyone know why our story of Creation is so different than Icarum’s?”

A girl in the front raised her hand. “Since the Sydurnians can’t use magic themselves, they don’t want anyone to use it. It’s the only edge we have against their technology.”

Master Kaza smiled. Instead of telling his kids the answers, he loved it when they came to their answers on their own. He glanced at his watch.

“It looks like I can end class early. I’ll start distributing the training assignments that Master Rhozo and I have prepared for you all.”

A loud snore filled the room. Master Kaza grabbed a piece of chalk and prepared to throw it.

Icarum nudged Noah to warn him, but he was fast asleep, drooling on his notebook. The chalk was thrown.

“Ahhhhhhhhhh!” Noah could feel a bump start to swell up on his head. The whole class laughed.