The Priesthood

Combat is an important skill that all priests ought to learn—the necessary skills for self-defense and the skills one might need to defend others in the face of danger.

The theory was quite simple but useful for coding and the use of magic overall. Because in combat, everything has to be done quickly and precisely, without failure. In combat, one has to be creative in the ways one might use their surroundings; for example, they could freeze the ground, thus making it slippery to stand on.

Preparation was also emphasized. If one knows beforehand that there might be a possibility of a physical or otherwise violent encounter, being prepared for such a possibility can save lives—not just the lives of others but your own.

One might think that magical combat is all about two or more people throwing fireballs at each other, but in actuality, it is much more mobile and quick, and a lot of fights are decided in close quarters.

A priest has to be in constant motion, as there might at any moment be a spell that makes the place where you just were a place where you’ll be buried.

Combat against non-priests is a lot simpler; for that, preparation, awareness, and reaction are keys. A volley of arrows is easily turned around with a strong gust of wind; a sword strike can be countered by making the sword itself suddenly too heavy or adjusting its properties; what if a sword was suddenly soft?

Before, this had been the part of their curriculum that worried Kanrel the most. He wasn’t very athletic, and he didn’t much like the idea of getting beat up by the hands of the other novices.

Now he could probably win against most; that made Yirn his most difficult competition. During the past week, they had had many conversations; they would share things like their thoughts about coding and magic in general and the reason why they had originally chosen to become priests.

For Kanrel, it had been a duty for knowledge, but Yirn had a dream of becoming an inquisitor. A fierce warrior priest whose primary job would be law enforcement and hunting loose priests.

So he had spent much of his time working out his body, which one could easily see, and reading books from inquisitors to inquisitors; these books often held information and thoughts about combat, strategy, and what kind of things one could quickly and easily interact within their own surroundings—all this in preparation.

He had also shown Kanrel one of the codes that he learned recently: he conjured multiple small balls of fire, and then he’d rapidly shoot them forward. It was within the basics of magical combat, but Kanrel found it impressive anyway.

And now they were in a hall designed for practice duels. All of the novices were, and with them was a visiting inquisitor known as Sirius, whose intention was to force all of them to fight each other until they collapsed and could not move any longer.

He showcased elaborate weaving as he would, in mere seconds, summon balls of fire that would explode on impact, and with that, he would conjure a blinding flash of light directed at the imagined enemy that he was fiercely attacking.

He then, with the help of Oidus, made the novices go into pairs so that they would be able to have a practice duel.

Now Yirn stood across from Kanrel, and they eyed each other, waiting for the command to start. It was certain that both of them had already begun coming up with different codes to alter the environment, maybe even form an attacking spell.

"Begin!" Was loudly yelled, and in an instant, Yirn began running at him; at the same time, he threw exploding balls of fire at Kanrel, who had to alter all his own plans and block the coming attacks. Powerful gusts of wind made the balls of fire useless; he then tried to stop Yirn by freezing square meters of ground around him.

Then Kanrel began retreating, but something was off. He turned around and could do nothing; the floor trembled in anticipation of the forthcoming strike; Kanrel’s heart was beating. Was it because of fear? Excitement? Or was he just so caught up in the fight that his heart had to keep up with his mind?

An icy whip, in a glittering arch beneath the light of the hall, baptized the floor with a streak of blood. Kanrel fell to his knees, his face bleeding and half of it missing, but he would survive.

So this was magical combat in practice.

Even this wound would serve as a valuable moment to learn; he remembered the books he had read about magic in medicine and began forming a code based on that information. He would first stop the bleeding and then regenerate the missing side of his face.

He did this all while terrible pain ran through his face over and over again; he still got up as his newly formed code was still working on his face.

Yirn had stopped for a moment in shock; he had not expected what had happened, even when he had been the cause of it.

Kanrel then used this shock to his own advantage and began forming multiple spikes of ice in the air around him, all aimed at Yirn. The young man then woke up from his shock, just in time to dodge the coming spikes. He then slipped on the icy ground and had to roll out of it as quickly as he could.

"Stop!" A loud voice demanded; the duel was over, and all the just conjured spells were made void, except the one fixing Kanrel’s face.

"Well done. You two will make fantastic inquisitors in the future. You've got the right attitude for training—actually attacking using all the things that you know how to use, and not just standing still when attacked or when half of your face is missing." The male inquisitor said it with an even intonation.

"These are exactly the things that I look for in an inquisitor while training."

"You, Yirn, was it? Next time, don’t get shocked by the sight of blood, and go for the kill. And you, don’t ever turn your back to the enemy; you deserved to lose half of your face for that."

"Next!"

And so the practice duels continued; everyone got a chance to impress the visiting inquisitor, but not many of them got any compliments. This went on for hours, and those who had showcased their prowess in combat got to continue practicing against target dummies.

Yirn sheepishly apologized; he had thought that Kanrel would be able to dodge the coming strike, as he himself could’ve done so. Kanrel, on the other hand, thanked Yirn for the valuable lesson in medicine.

Soon the first lecture in combat was over, and Kanrel agreed to meet up with Yirn and Yviev at the laboratory in an hour.

The combat arenas were in the northern part of the academy, behind the laboratory. It was an area of the campus that was most frequently restored, for obvious reasons. Oidus apparently had, as a novice herself, blown half of it into smithereens. And funnily enough, that moment had also been the moment she became obsessed with explosions.

While walking in the corridor, Kanrel saw something on the wall. In bright white and red, there were words written: The Herald is heretical; death to the heretics!

And on the other side of the corridor, there was another phrase: The new passages are forgeries; death to the Herald!

He stood there for a long time before another person went by; they also stopped near the graffiti. She then commented, "The coming of the Otherkind does seem a bit absurd, but I wouldn’t go as far as to call the Herald heretical. Maybe daft instead." She said this with a smile on her face, which froze after she recognized who she was talking to.

The girl quickly apologized and ran off before Kanrel could rebuke her.

Otherkind. Heretics. The Herald. New passages and forgeries? Kanrel did not know what to think; there was just this urge to figure out the truth. He would have to first visit the cathedral, as every temple and cathedral would always have an updated copy of the Book of the Heralds. He had not read it for a while now, so many new passages might have been shared.

He formed a code and removed the graffiti; such doubt shouldn’t be installed in the heads of priests.

The cathedral was as empty as ever, and to be fair, it was only full during certain days of the year and during the ritual. By now, all had opened their eyes and were taking part in the lectures. Those who had taken longer to awaken were somehow more used to their new-found emotional state, and they seemed far more apathetic in Kanrel’s eyes.

When he walked once again into the grand hall of the cathedral, he was reminded of how small and insignificant he was to the world around him. How he meant nothing before the eyes of the Angel, who would emotionlessly judge all those that found themselves within.

They all looked down upon us. All of the angels, small and large; on the columns, the paintings, the carvings, and the mosaics. All of them. Each time Kanrel took a step, he felt his skin crawl. They followed him; those eyes... filled with judgment.

Within the cathedral, there is a library in the south-eastern wing of the building. Hundreds of tall bookshelves filled the whole room; this was the place where most of the religious texts were held. And even more literature about magic. But not even a single erotica novel was in sight; no wonder the library was far less visited than the one across the cafeteria.

In the very middle of the library, there was a pedestal on top of which there was a large tome; its dimensions were 30 centimeters in width and 35 centimeters in height, and there were thousands of pages, half of which were filled with small scripture.

This had been the first time he saw the Book of the Herald after his awakening, and by the Angels, it felt so very different now. Seeing this very tome was the first time since a few weeks ago that he felt anything other than different shades of despair.

He felt touched, and he felt so blessed, and oh, how he wanted to cry from this feeling that something as usual as seeing a book gave him. But this wasn’t like any other book; there are only ten or so of this type of book in the world.

Magically connected tomes that all updated when a new passage was written on the original one. The one that his mother had.

He swallowed his tears and went closer. He carefully found the page that held the last passage that he had read; he didn’t need to be careful, as the book would survive any damage done to it. The pages couldn’t be ripped or burned; moisture wouldn’t ruin them. Nothing would.

There had been three new passages since he had last visited. They read as follows:

Locked; imprisoned those you know as the other. Waiting for the lock to open; waiting for their ascension; to breach the surface; to usurp those above.

Punished for betrayal; conquered and then enslaved by the shadows; by those within, around, and above.

Bloodshed; famine; death. An ending from and for below.

Kanrel read the words again and again. What did it mean? The end of humanity? To the "other"? Or to the Angels? Whose betrayal? What shadows? What lock? Whose ascension?

He took out his notebook and copied the new passages; he would have to read back on the other things that his mother had written, and then he would have to go even further back in time to find out what had been said about the Otherkind before.

With a lot on his mind and all these new passages of shadows within, around, and above, and the coming bloodshed, famine, and more, he then decided to finally go meet up with the others at the laboratory. But tonight, there will be a lot to read about.

Kanrel arrived at the laboratory an hour late; he only saw Yviev there.

"I am sorry for being so late; I had to finish the thing that I was reading." Kanrel apologized.

"At least this is just your first time; as you can see, Yirn is not here either, and he is late every time; he probably has to finish the set of pushups he is doing."

"Push-ups?"

"Well, what else would he be doing?"

Kanrel thought for a moment: "Point taken." He then began sharing the observations that he had made during the combat lecture; he also shared the code that he had used to fix his face.

Yviev also helped him figure out if his face was the same as it had been before. "You’re as ugly as ever, so don’t you worry."

"And if there is any actual difference, you can always get the other side chopped off as well; just ask Yirn, and he’d be happy to help you."