Media: BEAUTIFUL ARTWORK OF ALES BY Zuko_42 

Music of the chapter: The Calling by Marcus Warner

Cadence woke up to see the sun break through the barriers of the night. Her stomach no longer hurt, but she was still lightheaded from vomiting.

She set her bare feet on the floor, running them over the rug before stepping onto the cold tiles leading up to the shower curtain. The coldness of the tiles pinched her, waking her up. Her vomit was gone. In its place was a fresh bath filled flower petals, and fluffy towels hanging on a wooden rack.

Steam rose from the surface of the water. She didn't need to test it to know it was still hot. Thanking whoever who had prepared the bath and cleaned up her mess, she quickly stripped out of her old, dirty clothes and sank into water.

She instantly wanted to melt inside it. It had been a long time she had a decent bath. The only few chances she got to use a bathtub was when her father took her up to the Region of Elements to meet the Master Treasurer. The Master Treasurer owned a large house with servants and a garden. She didn't remember much from the annual trips. It mostly comprised of her wandering idly about in the garden or sleeping. Cole never went with them due to his work schedule.

The hot bath was heavenly. Cadence sighed, feeling the rising steam caress her face and scrubbing the dirt off her skin using the mint-smelling soap provided. Feeling like a whole new person, she rose from the now dirty water and dried herself.

It was then she realized she had no clothes to wear other than her old, filthy ones.

Glancing around the room, she spotted the ornate wardrobe. Cadence couldn't wait till the Kesatria showed up and ask for clothes. What if it was a man? The thought of being caught seen in nothing but a towel burned her cheeks as she flung open the doors of the wardrobe and prayed that there were clothes inside.

Her prayers were answered. There were several folded garments in the otherwise empty wardrobe. Cadence took the topmost garment and shook it out.

The fabric was soft to the touch. It was a kubah, handsome robes worn by Kesatria. Cadence stared at it, too afraid to contemplate the consequences of wearing something reserved only for the elite of the elite. She held it in front of her, marveling at the neat seams, the embroidered hem, the painted runes, and long sleeves. There must be a belt somewhere too. Kesatria wore utility belts that enabled them to carry a small range of weapons and potions. Pockets were hidden in the folds of the kubah—a smart way of concealing weapons which could be whipped out with ease when engaged with an opponent.

Someone knocked on her door. Cadence jumped, pressing the kubah against her chest.

"Hello?"

Dewas above, it's Ales.

Without thinking, she pulled the kubah on and wrapped the towel around her shoulders. There was nothing she could do about her wet, straggly hair plastered against her forehead.

Before she could squeak out a prohibition, Ales opened the door and poked his head into the room. Cadence did a double take. He wasn't wearing his mask. The man who looked his early forties was intriguing with his wolf mask, but this, made Cadence feel as if she was staring into the face of the Dewas. She had thought Ales to be younger, but without the mask, his crowfeet eyes and lines on his forehead gave his age away.

"Good morning." He smiled. "Did you have a restful night?"

"I-I," Cadence stuttered. "I suppose so."

"You look dashing in a kubah." Ales gave her a brisk glance-over. "Sadly, you cannot parade around wearing this."

Cadence's cheeks felt like the setting sun. "I have nothing no wear," she mumbled. "I-I-"

"Wasn't expecting me, I know." Ales ran a hand through his hair, letting the soft strands slip through his fingers. "The other Kesatria didn't want to babysit you, so they came up with a ton of the most ridiculous excuses to get you off their hands. So I was stuck with you, but don't get me wrong. I am not displeased to guide you."

Cadence was too busy trying to hide her chest from Ales to pay heed to his words.

Ales laughed. "I had anticipated this, actually. I've brought you some clothes. Recruit robes. I didn't know your size, so I dug out the closest thing I could estimate."

He held out a small bundle of clothes to Cadence.

She relieved it from his hands at once. Seeing Ales was still looking at her, she cleared her throat pointedly.

He caught on, said 'oh' and turned away while she made a mad dash for the changing screen.

Still flushing, she unrolled the bundle to find herself with a simple white robe. It was nowhere as elegantly cut or embroidered like a kubah, but it was its cousin in the sense of convenience. The robe came with pockets, a utility belt just like the Kesatria', and even a small pouch.

When she was done, she stepped out of the screen and cleared her throat again to get Ales' attention.

He turned around. "Have you eaten breakfast? I can ask someone to bring up a tray for you."

Her stomach growled. Whoever who cleared her vomit had also taken away her dinner tray, but hadn't replaced it with a fresh one.

"Something light, please?" she said, fearing her stomach might riot again. "Porridge maybe?"

"Plenty of that in the kitchens," Ales said. "Poor people food, but fills the stomach."

"What do you know about poor people food?" Cadence said. Ales probably grew up in a pampered environment like Khazaria, eating rich food in which commoners like her would have to go hungry for a year before they could even afford a morsel of it.

"More than you can comprehend," Ales said. "You view us Varya through a twisted mirror of gilded gold. I view Murka through a glass-stained window. There's more than rich Varya, Cadence, remember that."

Before Cadence could come up with a reply, Ales clapped his hands. "Now, off to the get you food before you faint. The Feorh who cleaned your room brought a spilled tray back to the kitchens, and I am aware you haven't eaten since we arrived. I don't want the High Priestess to accuse me of abusing you."

"What's a Feorh?"

"Creatures of written runes conjured up by Oracles. They run the whole background operation of the Hall."

"Then why did you send Misha to me last night?"

"I thought you could use some company. Feorhs don't speak. Why didn't you eat?"

"Dinner didn't agree with me," Cadence said. "I'm not used to such opulent food."

"That's not opulent food," Ales said. "It's what we call an army meal."

Cadence gave him a flat look. "You really have no idea what a servant's life is like, don't you?"

"I'm born of the House Sanrovo," he said. "I'm no commoner."

They walked out of the room and Cadence closed the door behind them. Ales pulled out a sheet of paper from the folds of his kubah and squinted at it. "Seamstress, weapons, books, basic recruit lessons..." he muttered under his breath.

"Where's your mask?"

"Oh," Ales said. "I don't wear it inside the Hall. We only wear it during missions or when we are patrolling."

"Wouldn't it be a hassle during a fight?"

"A mask is the highest honor you can bestow upon a Varya. We only receive it after five years of formal training. One year here, and then four years in our respective Hall of Affinity. You are allowed to choose your own mask, something unique and represents you as an individual. Crow masks are overrated, though. Half of the Kesatria wear them. It's confusing since crow masks are worn by witch-doctors."

While talking, they have reached the kitchens. The Hall of Games' kitchen was very much like the Orelik's—enormous and filled with cooks yelling at each other, steaming pots and pans, the overlay of various smells and spices as well as the attacking heat. But unlike Mansion Orelik's that was manned entirely by humans, blue, translucent creatures glided in between the human cooks, each minding their own businesses. Most of them were in the form of animals but had human hands, which made them even more eerie. Those must be Feorhs.

A chubby man with several strands of white hair left on his head waddled his way up to Ales, blue eyes bright in his pink face.

"Rascal!" he boomed, clapping the Kesatria on the shoulder with an empty pan. Ales winced. "It's been a good long while since I've seen you! My, have you grown old. When I last saw you, you hardly had a wisp above your lips!"

Ales actually looked embarrassed. "Maree, you're exaggerating. We just talked last week. Also, we have a guest."

"GUESTS!" Maree boomed again. "Don't mind Ales. He and I had history. When he was still a recruit, he would sneak into the kitchen and steal my apple pies. No one steals Maree's apple pies under his nose, and in his very kitchen! Like I said, don't be an idiot if you can't afford to be one. Stealing is wrong, Ales."

Ales shuffled his feet, like a child being reprimanded by his parents for doing something wrong. "Maree."

"Alright, alright." Maree waved a beefy hand. "I'm just messin' with ya. Gotta put up the stinky Kesatria face, innit? Y'all look like you're constantly constipated. Aha, that rhymed, I'm a genius!"

"The girl needs food," Ales said loudly.

Maree pinched Cadence's arm and made a disgusted noise. "Have your folks been starvin' you, kid? You're as thin as a stick!"

"Um." Cadence didn't know what to say. Tell the cook her parents were both dead and it was her doing?

"She wants porridge." Ales moved over to the stoves, lifted the lid off the pot, and was rewarded with a blast of steam in the face.

"Porridge?" Maree said in disbelief. "No malnourished child shall eat porridge, not in my kitchen."

He directed a finger at Cadence. "Sit," he commanded, sparks flying from his eyes.

She hurriedly obeyed and sat at the chair Maree had pointed her to.

"Bloody hell, stop touching my pots." Maree bumped his hip into Ales, shoving him from another pot.

Cadence was sure it was Maree who prepared her dinner yesterday. He served her a bowl of chicken stew with the most tantalizing aroma, several pieces of bread with burnt crusts, and a small roasted pear, all arranged in a neat tray with a complementing cup of strong tea.

"Eat up," Maree said. "A recruit who starves is no recruit at all."

She took a tentative sip of the soup, making inward threats at her stomach if it decided to hurl everything again. Thankfully, her stomach remained quiet and accepted the food. She decided if she ever got rich and owned her own mansion, she was going to kidnap Maree and make him her own head cook.

"Who is this young lady?" Maree asked Ales. "Some special guest?"

"A sudden addition to our recruits," Ales answered, edging toward the pots again. "Hers is a unique case, but we've got it all under control."

"Her face tells me that I shouldn't pry, so I won't ask. Just make sure she eats her meals, Ales. She is too thin to be healthy."

After a hearty salute and Maree telling Ales to lay off his pans again, Ales led Cadence to the Hall's seamstress who placed her on a stool and started poking her with needles, once again having to endure the process of being called 'painfully thin'.

"I'm starting to think you picked this one from the gutter, Ales dear," Lady Silver said through a mouthful of pins. "She's going to need the smallest size!"

Ales watched Cadence struggle to take off a piece of cloth the seamstress had wound around her with a bemused expression. "You're exaggerating, Di. There are plenty of others smaller and more petite than Cadence here."

"Healthily petite," Lady Silver refused to drop her point. "This one here looks as if she hadn't eaten in weeks!"

Lady Silver worked fast. It was no wonder, she was a Tinker, Varya whose powers were connected with the metals. She flexed her fingers expertly, making silver needles dance across the white fabric, pulling the thread above and under to form Cadence's new robes. Ales, Cadence saw from her peripheral vision, was tinkering with one of the fake busts at the side. In less than one candle bar, Cadence was walking out with a bundle of her new robes with Ales by her side.

"Where is my brother?" She wondered if he was also given a room like she did.

"He is with Kesatria Latisha. She is good with children."

"We're not children," Cadence said indignantly. "We're legal adults."

"Well." Ales turned into a corner so abruptly, Cadence almost walked into a wall. "You're in front of adultier adults. That makes you two, well, children."

I'm not a child. Children do not exist when you're struggling to even find piece of bread for your family. Cadence twisted the bundle hard in her hands until she could feel the threads begging to be released.

"Nevertheless," Ales continued. "Your brother will be briefed on the Right Order, just as I am going to brief you on the Left Order. Then, I'll be giving you your textbooks and your timetable.

"I can't read," Cadence reminded Ales.

"Everyone needs to have textbooks. It's protocol, but I shall alert the Masters and Mistresses teaching you so they'll be aware of your condition."

Cadence was now jogging to catch up. Ales was all arms and legs; one stride of his equaled to three giant steps of hers. "Your textbooks are in my office," Ales continued.

"You have an office?"

Ales laughed. "You say it like it is a bad thing. I'm a senior Kesatria, so yes, I have my own office. It isn't as elaborate as the Masters and Mistresses' though."

This part of the Hall, Cadence noticed, had no windows. Huge braziers carved from stone lined the corridor, studded with smooth, tumbled crystals. It was like the Temples where her father would take her to pray.

"Here we are." Ales stopped in front of a metal door bearing twin embossed snakes on the arch. He inserted a key into the lock and turned it to the side. Metal gear whirred, freeing the doorknob. He inclined his head toward his office. "Come on in."

The room wasn't big, but was large enough to accommodate a desk, a squashed couch, and a small hearth where a fire crackled merrily. Behind the desk was a large shelf crammed with all books possible. Cole would go nuts if he was here to see the leather bound books and thick, gilded spines, the scrolls spread out on top of the cabinet and the papers were strewn all over the table.

Noticing Cadence admiring his book collection, he shrugged.

"Small amount compared to the Iron Library." Ales closed the door, crossed the room and sat behind his desk. "Don't just stand there, take a seat." He pulled out a drawer and rifled through its contents.

Ales must be a person who was fond of literacy. Everywhere she looked, she saw tapestries depicting the Invokers discovering new items, testing out new theories, crowding around a table where they worshiped the Dewa of Wisdom. Every inch of Ales' desk was covered with books, papers covered with his spidery handwriting, empty ink bottles and opened scrolls.

Out of the papers and books, Cadence spotted a small portrait frame. It showed a young woman with large eyes and a head of long, black curls. Next to her was Ales. He looked about twenty, and he had an arm wrapped around the woman's shoulders. Both were laughing, the kind of worry-less, dreamy laugh that only the happiest people could produce. A little child sat on Ales' lap, she couldn't be more than two years old, grinning happily at the painter.

"Your family?" Cadence asked.

Ales nodded.

"Are they in the Hall of Games too?" asked Cadence.

"They're dead, Cadence."

Her father's headless corpse flashed before her eyes. Cadence ground it out by gripping the armrest until her knuckles white.

Ales' face was still. "It's been a long time since Danika and Aria's passing. I'd prefer not to talk about it. Let's focus on current issues instead."

He flipped open the first ledger, took out a sheet of paper and handed it to Cadence.

"Your classes for your first recruit year consists of physical combat, weaponry, history, geography, hunting, basic medicine, and tracking. If you need anything, say, books, new robes, recruits tear theirs up a lot, just let me know. I'll do my best to attain those for you."

He picked up a pen and tossed it between his fingers, letting an invisible draft push it into the air before settling back into his palm.

"Now, rules. You are not allowed to leave Hall premises unless accompanied by a Master, a Mistress, or a Kesatria. The only exceptions are during the Dewa festivals, but make sure that you do return, for anyone who leaves without permission will be branded a deserter and the penalty will be death. Do not enter the main Hall sections unless you have written approval. Stick to the army section. Be in time for your classes, refer to your teachers as Master or Mistress. They're easy to spot. Kesatria wear white kubahs while Master and Mistresses wear black and gold robes. Varya recruits wear armbands according to their Affinity. Red for Warriors, blue for Oracles, yellow for Tinkers and green for Naturams. Meals will be served in the dining hall. Food will be available from sunrise to midnight at appointed times. Follow your timetable, mealtimes are stated there. Am I clear?"

Cadence nodded.

Ales waved his hand in dismissal. "Go to your classes, Misha will be there to help you."

Seeing that Ales wasn't interested in her anymore, Cadence took her leave. Once she was outside the door, she took a glance at her timetable. First lesson, geography. She then realized she had forgotten to ask Ales for directions.