Immanent Ascension

After Katayoun pulled away from him, he accompanied her back to the main hall. He badly wanted to reach out and clasp her hand, but knew that was a crazy thought. They stopped outside the doors.

“Thanks again, Xerxes,” she said, smiling at him.

“No problem.”

“From now on, just call me Kat.”

“Okay. And you call me Xerk.”

She pushed the door open, and the sound of the revelries rolled over them. “Have fun the rest of the evening.”

“You too.”

Then she was hurrying back to her table. He watched her go, then strolled back to his friends.

Did that just really happen? he wondered. A troupe of jugglers had the attention of the crowd, so his friends didn’t say much as he sat back down. He kept thinking about the embrace. Reliving it. Wishing it had lasted longer.

More food came. More alcohol. As it turned out, the Archons really knew how to drink, and they didn’t discourage the students from doing so. Slowly but surely, he got wrapped up in the fun of the banquet. The hall grew louder and louder as evening stretched into night. There were more performances. Speeches. Singing. The alcohol and food never seemed to stop coming. Eventually, the toasting started to hit home, and things got fuzzy for Xerxes.

“Guys, I’m about to pass out,” he said.

“Aww, come on!” Enusat said, his speech slurred. “One more round.”

“No, really, I can’t—”

Jad threw an arm around Xerxes’ shoulders, and with his free hand, held up a tankard of ale. “One more, Xerk-man! To the Humusi Swordmasters!”

“To us!” Teucer said.

Xerxes reached out to his own tankard. “Alright, fine. To the Swordmasters!”

It wasn’t just one round. It was three or four. Eventually, Xerxes stumbled back to his dorm room. Gandash was already sprawled out snoring when Xerxes collapsed into his bed.

He was no stranger to alcohol, and had been to his fair share of banquets back on Mannemid. But never had he imbued so much at one time.

For about an hour after waking, he lay groaning in bed, until Gandash dragged him to the dining hall. His stomach didn’t seem interested in accepting food, but he forced down some savory broth and a few bites of bread. Eating made him feel a little bit better. A little bit better.

He wasn’t the only Seer who was suffering. Most trudged instead of walked, slumped instead of sat, and croaked instead of talked. The previous night was clearly the grandest banquet any of them had ever attended.

By lunchtime, Xerxes’ headache had shrunk into a minor throbbing in the back of his skull, and his stomach had mostly settled. Still, all he felt like doing was laying in bed.

“I told you to stop drinking,” Gandash said.

“You did? I don’t remember.”

“What’s the point of having a day of rest if you need to spend the whole thing sicker than a dog?”

Xerxes sat up slowly and massaged his temples. “Don’t be such a grandma.”

“Whatever. I’m going to the library.”

“I’ll probably stay in bed for a bit longer.”

“See you.”

As the afternoon wore on, Xerxes felt better. Eventually, he declared himself ‘recovered.’

His first inclination was to find Katayoun. He started at the library, where he avoided Gandash so he wouldn’t be roped into studying. He spotted no strand of red hair there, or in the halls. He prowled the grounds after that, but still couldn’t find her.

Finally, he went to the small clearing in the forest, and sure enough, the Humusi Swordmasters were there. At least, some were.

Kashtiliash and Jad both lay with their backs on boulders, soaking in the afternoon sun. Off to the side was the bag with the practice swords and other gear, untouched.

“Hey,” Xerxes said.

Jad cracked an eye open. “Xerk-man. How you feeling?”

“Mostly recovered. You?”

“Got a ways to go. We kept drinking after we got to our room last night.”

Xerxes found a spot next to Jad and leaned back, enjoying the warmth radiating into him from the sun overhead and from the rock at his back. “You gotta be kidding me.”

“He isn’t,” Kashtiliash said. He still hadn’t opened his eyes. “I was there.”

Jad chuckled. “Can you believe what happened with Randy Gandy?”

“What happened?” Xerxes asked.

“You forgot? He got in a yelling match with some guy. Almost started fighting until a teacher pulled them apart.”

“Gandy’s always been a bit of an angry drunk.”

“Apparently,” Kashtiliash said.

The three of them lay quietly in the sun for a while. At a certain point, Xerxes dozed off.

He woke when Enusat appeared, shuffling loudly through the barrier of trees.

“Why did I finish the bottle last night?” the short mage groaned, flopping into the grass in the middle of the clearing.

“Should’ve listened to me,” Kashtiliash said.

Jad chuckled. “You’ll be fine. Builds character.” A few minutes passed. “You guys ready for the results tomorrow?”

“No,” Enusat said.

“Totally,” Xerxes said. He stretched his arms, then put his hands behind his neck. “I think my performance in the combat part will outweigh the written test. I’m pretty confident I’ll get an officer commission.”

Kashtiliash grunted. “Good luck.”

Jad heaved himself off the rock, stood, and shook out his limbs. “I heard that later on, the officers get to pick who they command. If you make it, Xerk-man, you have to make sure to take care of us.”

“Wait,” Xerxes said, “even you’re not confident of getting a commission?”

Jad shrugged and walked over to pick out a wooden practice sword. “Don’t think so. I’m not a scholar like Randy Gandy.”

Enusat laughed. “I still can’t believe he wore that stupid elephant hat.”

Xerxes still didn’t completely understand the elephant hat thing, but he wasn’t about to reveal his ignorance. “That’s Gandy for you,” he said. “He’s always had his nose stuck in books.”

“It shows,” Jad said. “Hey, want to warm up and do some sparring?”

“Sure.”