Ascension, Chapter 9

The final chapter of this section of Ascension! Where did the time go? This is definitely not the way that I planned for this to turn out, and I can't cay that I'm completely happy with it so far. There's some major rewrites in the future, but that's part of the joy of writing; nothing's ever finished until it goes to print, and often not even then.
 In the mean time, I'm going to keep chipping away at this. What you've been reading so far is really only the set up of a much larger story, kind of like an origin story in comic books. We've got the world, we've got the characters. Or, rather, we've got the first major setting, and we've got the first set of characters. And, in a little bit, the excrement is going to start dismantling the fan in an extreme way.
 I hope you've enjoyed it so far; keep checking back for updates every Wednesday and Sunday, and feel free to comment on the story so far!

Chapter 9

 ‘How do you feel?’

 Naren looked up as the door to the medical bay opened, and Gawen walked in, a tray of bottles held in his elderly hands. He sat up, puching the thin white sheet away from his body.

 ‘I’m fine,’ he said, as Gawen placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back onto the narrow bed.

 ‘You collapsed in front of the entire court,’ Gawen pointed out.

 ‘That was ages ago-’

 ‘Two hours,’ Gawen interjected.

 ‘-I’m fine now, really.’ Naren said.

 ‘Was he angry?’ he asked after a moment, as Gawen sorted through the bottles on the tray.

 ‘Your father?’ the old man asked. Naren nodded.

 ‘His lordship was concerned, like the rest of us,’ Gawen said.

 ‘You’re a terrible liar,’ Naren said, sinking back onto the bed.

 ‘As are you, if you expect me to believe that you feel ‘fine’,’ Gawen countered.

 ‘It’s just a bit of a headache,’ Naren said.

 ‘You will adapt to the background noise eventually, Naren,’ Gawen spun, his robes flapping around him like the wings of a dishevelled bird. He bowed deeply to the queen, who stood in the open doorway. Naren sprang off the bed, stumbled, and fell. Gawen caught him, supporting the boy as he returned him to the bed.

 ‘I wouldn’t try to move too quickly,’ his mother said, sweeping into the room.

 ‘My lady,’ Gawen bowed again ‘I was just beginning to examine the prince in order to determine the nature of his Blessing.’

 ‘There is no need, Gawen,’ the queen replied, barely glancing at the elderly healer.

 ‘I was with Naren as his power awakened. His telepathic potential is quite remarkable.’

 ‘Telepathy?’ Naren echoed.

 ‘Are you sure, my lady? I have yet to carry out the tests-’

 ‘I would have thought that you would no better than to question me on such matters, Gawen,’ the queen replied.

 ‘Yes, yes. Of course, my lady. Well, I shall send word to the Faceless immediately, so that a proper instructor can be found for his highness.’

 ‘There will be no need for that, either, Gawen. I shall instruct the boy myself.’

 ‘You, my lady?’

 ‘I was a cleric of the priestess in my youth, if you remember, Gawen. I am more than qualified.’ The Queen's smile, as always, failed to quite reach her eyes.

 ‘Yes, my lady.’ Gawen bowed his head.

 ‘You have something to say, Naren?’ his mother asked. Naren jumped. He had been sat in silence during this exchange.

 ‘I-’ he began. What could he say? His mother had mentioned background noise, but Naren couldn’t hear anything. Or could he? Was the vague humming a sign of his Blessing, or was it an after effect of his collapse? Or was he simply imagining it? He hadn’t noticed the sound before his mother arrived. ‘Are you sure?’

 ‘Sure?’ the queen raised a single, immaculate eyebrow.

 ‘About my Blessing. That I’m a telepath.’

 ‘Of course, my darling,’ he mother said with a gentle laugh. Naren tried to remember the last time she had called him darling. ‘Absolutely.’

 ‘But I don’t feel any different,’ he said.

‘Are you sure?’ she prompted.

 ‘I-’ he hesitated again.

 ‘Gawen, would you assist us?’ The queen turned to the healer.

 ‘Of course, my lady.’

 ‘Focus on Gawen, dear,’ she said, coming to stand behind him. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

 ‘Feel his thoughts inside yours.’

 Naren closed his eyes, and tried to concentrate. This was absurd, he knew; he had no idea what he was doing. He had never tried to read another person’s mind before. He thought briefly of Rei, and the pain that her Blessing had caused her. He had heard stories of the suffering that telepaths had undergone in the days and weeks following their Ascension. Stories of girls who had to be restrained to stop them from trying to harm themselves as the thoughts of every person they met rushed into their heads. Stories of boys who had thrown themselves to their deaths to stop the endless streams of hopes, fears, dreams and secrets of those around them. But Naren felt no different. In fact he felt-

 Is he really ready for this? Naren tensed. It was the voice of Gawen, but he knew that the old man hadn’t spoken. Not out loud, anyway. And the voice was different, too. Louder than the healer’s normal voice, more immediate. Like talking to someone in a very small room.

  The queen must be right, of course, the voice continued. Naren was sure now that it was Gawen’s thoughts that he was hearing. It stands to reason that he could inherit his mother’s powers. But how will Lord Azrael take the news?

 It wasn’t just a single narrative of articulated, clear thoughts, either. In between the words was a seething mass of less articulated ideas and feelings. The man was surprised, Naren realised, because he hadn’t shown any of the normal signs associated with telepathy. He was concerned, too, that Naren hadn’t shown any signs of a Blessing at all. He was relieved that his mother had identified his power, and annoyed that she had gone around him in the process.

 ‘Enough,’ Naren said, his voice partially lost in the flow of thoughts from Gawen. He was aware that some of the thoughts weren’t from Gawen. A pair of guards were stood outside the room, and he could hear their thoughts- the first anticipating his dinner, the second recalling a recent visit to a certain house on the Land below- bubbling up alongside Gawen’s.

 ‘Enough!’ Naren gasped, as the conflicting voices rose up around him. How could anyone stand it? And this was just three people. What would it be like to hear the thoughts of a crowd, or the entire of Haven? No sooner had the idea entered his mind than Naren felt the minds of every person, every man, woman and child, flood into his own. He cried out, clasping his hands to his ears to try and drown out the sound, as if the noise were external rather than inside his own head.

 His mother let go of his arm, and the thoughts vanished. The silence they left behind was almost deafening, and Naren shook his head slightly. It was like emerging from a pool with water trapped in his ears.

 ‘Are you alright?’ Gawen asked. Naren nodded. The healer rushed forward then, to catch the prince as he slipped off the bed and fell once more into unconsciousness.

End of Part One.

Ascension, Chapter 8

 NaNoWriMo and Movember are over, and the moustache may be gone, but Ascension travels ever onwards. Just two more chapters until the end of the first section, and then the real story starts. I've had to divide what would have been 'Book 1' into two separate parts to make things more  straightforward, but there you go. Sometimes you have to be prepared to make adjustments, when what was meant to be the first 3 chapters of a story accidentally spills out into 10 (well, 9 and a Prologue, which isn't really a prologue anymore).
 Onwards!

 The guards were barking orders at the crowds, hurrying them through the tall archways that led through the palace to the city outside. Mari spotted her father and brother close to one of these entrances. Set, more than a head taller than their father, was scanning the crowd for her. She waved when she thought he was looking in her direction, only to be unceremoniously pushed aside by a barrel chested man with a thick ginger beard. He glared at her as the crowd swept him away.

 Mari, like the others, had seen the prince collapse after his Ascension. The uneasy silence had been broken as the guards, on some unseen order, had begun barking directions at the people assembled in the courtyard. Although Mari could hardly make out the words that were being said, the meaning was clear. Anyone who wasn’t a citizen of Haven- anyone who didn’t belong here in the floating city- had to leave. Now. 

 Mari realised then that the crowd was taking her in the wrong direction, pushcing and pulling her like the tide towards an archway on the other side of the square. She fought against the pull, desperate to reach her family.

 Mari willed herself forward, against the crush of people. She wanted to be there, not here. There, not here.

  And then Mari was everywhere.

  It was like the Ascension all over again. Mari felt herself expanding into the world around her, her mind permeating every empty space available. She wasn’t just looking down at the rapidly thinning crowds from above; she was also looking up at them from the floor. And she was also, somehow, standing beside, behind, and in front of every single person in the courtyard.

 ‘Mari!’ She heard her father’s voice call her name. The sound was almost inaudible on the other side of the courtyard,, swallowed up by the yelling and grumbling of the crowd, but practically deafening right next to him. And that was where she needed to be. All she had to do was focus; draw herself into that single empty space between her brother and father.

And then she was back in her head, back in her body.

She was stood next to Set and her father.

 ‘How did you do that?’ Set asked, as Mari stumbled into him. The world was spinning around her, and her whole body felt tight; compressed and claustrophobic after existing within the entire courtyard.

 ‘I… have no idea,’ Mari admitted.

 ‘A teleporter? Really?’ Set asked.

 ‘Well, I think my aunt was a teleporter,’ their father admitted.

 ‘Oh,’ Set grinned ‘Cool. No more walking to school.’

 ‘Come on, we’d better hurry,’ their father said, as the crowds continued to buffet them towards the exit. The courtyard was nearly empty now, except for the guards who continued to shepherd people out through the archways, and the Faceless, who hadn’t moved from their position in the centre of the courtyard.

 ‘Why bother? Can’t Mari just zap us home?’ Set asked.

 ‘Uh.’ Mari fidgeted with the sleeve of her top. The mere act of teleporting- if that was what she had done- the few metres across the courtyard had left her disorientated and exhausted. The thought of doing the same thing, over several miles, with two passengers, made her feel physically sick.

 ‘Better not risk it; we don’t want to find ourselves half way between Haven and the ground,’ their father said.

 ‘Oh, yeah,’ Set laughed uneasily ‘Splat.’ Mari grinned sheepishly, as their father led them towards the exit. They had just entered into the shadow of the hallway when Mari felt a light, but officious, tap on her shoulder.

 ‘Excuse me, miss,’ said the guard.

 ‘Yes?’ she asked. Set and her father stopped.

 ‘Come with me, miss,’

 ‘What?’ Mari began to panic. She felt a hand slip into hers, and looked up into her brother's eyes as he moved to stand between her and the guard.

 ‘Hey, she didn’t do anything,’ Set said, trying to stand between her and the guard.

 ‘No, sir,’ the guard barely glanced at Set. ‘These are orders from the Faceless.’

 ‘The Faceless?’ her father asked, casti9ng a wary glance towards the hooded figures. Two of them were looking in their direction, Mari thought, although it was impossible to tell for sure where they were looking.

 ‘Your daughter has been recruited, sir. Into the Honour Guard.’

 ‘What?’

 ‘No, she’s coming home with us,’ Set snarled.

 ‘Set,’ Mari began. The heavy lights overhead began to flicker as Set faced up to the guard. For a second Mari wondered what would happen if her brother tried to fight him. And then she realised that it wouldn’t be a fight; not really. Set might be able to talk to machines, but that was nothing compared to what the guard could do, if even half the stories she’d heard were true. It wouldn’t be a fight. It would be suicide.

 ‘Set!’ Their father snapped, as the light flickered and sparked, threatening to blow.

 ‘Set, its fine,’ Mari said, squeezing her brother’s shoulder. He blinked, the rage in his eyes giving way to a glazed look of confusion as whatever power he might have built up drained away in an instant.

 ‘Mari-’ her father began.

 ‘It’s fine, really,’ she said, moving to stand beside the guard, ‘I’ll see you soon.’

 The crowd surged forwards again, carrying Mari’s family away from her. The last she saw of them was her brother’s face as it vanished beneath the archway.