The Silenced Speaker

Chapter 47

The last two periods of the day passed in a daze for Alzentis, and miraculously, despite his obvious absent-mindedness. Voices still whispered to him, crowding his mind, the repeating words that he had already memorized after the first ten minutes. He doubted the words. He had lived in this world for sixteen years; even after discovering the truth with Kaizlin, he’d never felt like he didn’t belong.

He was different. The difference was inside him, in every ounce of his blood, deep inside the marrow of his bones – something that was born with him, something unalterable. Every time he came into close encounter with magic, or just on any random day, unfamiliar voices would intrude his mind, spreading hints of the other world. The latest one had been two weeks ago, in Canada, when Roxanne first entered his life.

The power of the voice hit him in a blast that time. It wasn’t painful, or unbearable; just overwhelming.

Now, on top of the voices, other words were rushing into his head rapidly, fighting for his attention. Words he was never taught, had never heard, but somehow recognized at once. They occupied the whole of his mind, leaving no room for curiosity, no rooms for questions of their origin, it was impossible to divert his attention anywhere else. He must have looked like a real zombie to other people.

“Did anyone see my pen?”

The class all stared at the girl who spoke. It was Kallistrate, the class captain, why was rummaging frantically in her pencil case and swiveled in her chair to inspect the entire classroom.

By then Alzentis was able to tear his concentration away from the voices. They echoed in his mind like some background music in a movie. Something must have possessed him that moment. He dropped his gaze from Kallistrate, and mumbled something under his breath, not exactly sure what he was doing.

And there it was. Lying in the palm of his hand, a thin pen with tiny inscriptions of quotes of famous people, clearly labeled with Kallistrate’s name. He twirled it once between his fingers, mindlessly, his senses unusually dulled. When he realized what happened, though still baffled, Alzentis leaned down to touch the ground and rose again, pretending to pick something up from the floor.

“Kal,” he called, and caught her attention immediately. “Catch!”

The pen sailed through the air, across the classroom, and the girl caught it with ease. “How did it get all the way over there?” She eyed her pen, and swept the distance between her desk and Alzentis’s with her gaze, puzzled. At last she shrugged, deciding recovering her pen was a result satisfying enough for her.

At the pressing instinct of someone staring at him, Alzentis turned to find the source. It was Roxanne, who hadn’t exchanged a single word with him for days, ever since she asked him to teach her the song that he composed. She was fine then, but since the next time he had seen her, her aquamarine eyes had gone cold – even colder than they had been before; colder than ice cold, harder than diamonds. It made him wonder what had happened between the time she left the music room and the first period after lunch that day. The sharp coldness wasn’t directed at him, for she treated everyone the same way.

That had lasted for almost a week, today being the sixth day. Right now she was gazing at him with astonishment, her silver pen and work forgotten on her desk. He had never seen that expression from her before; nor had he expected it, especially when she had been acting so distant lately.

Still not certain what he was doing, Alzentis shot her a warm smile, and murmured something again. This time he recognized the words to be from the ones swarming into his head.

Somehow, he wasn’t surprised to see the cold silver pen spinning on his desk. Frostedlight, it was.

Roxanne’s eyes were filled with incredulousness. That was strange. She knew he had some connections with magic long ago; it shouldn’t have surprised her that he was able summon her pen.

Alzentis leaned back in his chair. He whispered another chant, watching as the pen vanished in thin air. Knowing where it would be, he cast a glance at Roxanne’s table, smiling radiantly at the sight of Frostedlight lying exactly where it had been.

The ice princess reached for her pen. When she felt the familiar coldness of its surface, she almost flinched, as if there was static electricity. She shook her head, disbelief flashed in her eyes, before every emotion faded. Roxanne tore a page from her notebook, and wrote down a question.

Who are you?

Aware that the class was silent, Alzentis answered on the same piece of paper.

Perhaps I can tell you another time. Not now.

Not while Kaizlin was here. Not while he was battling with the voices. Not while he barely comprehended the answer himself.

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One minute after the bell rung, Roxanne had all her work gathered in her bag, its straps slung over her shoulders and was ready to leave. As usual, she waited for Tathiette and Trenton. Trenton was efficient, but he had to help Tathiette. Without her brother’s assistance, the clumsy Princess could use all the time from now to the end of the world to pack.

It gave Roxanne sufficient time to think. She had taken Natasha’s warning seriously, and treated school as nothing more than a quest that the King and Queen had given her for the past five days. If not for what she had witnessed today, she would have easily stayed perfectly impassive for the rest of the year.

Alzentis. All the mysteries surrounding him and his magic were something she had never encountered before. Delivering voices through air, instantaneous teleportation, performing magic without using energy; and today she had seen the most puzzling of all. He knew chants, chants that belonged to magic more ancient than any she’d known, for she hadn’t recognized a word he spoke. Summoning her pen was almost impossible to achieve, because Frostedlight itself was an enchanted object that knew and obey its master. Let alone giving it back.

She had guessed he was a descendent of those exiled from her world in Exillium before, but they were never known to use chants of any sort.

Before she could make sense of her thoughts, Trenton called for her attention. Glancing at them, she realized that Tathiette was ready.

“I have other plans, Roxanne, as I’ve just told Tathy,” the Prince announced. “I’ll meet you back at the house in an hour or two. You wouldn’t mind riding with Tathy, would you?”

Of course she minded, but of course she couldn’t. Roxanne was officially Princess Tathiette Auetex’s protector, so she had to fulfill her duty. It wasn’t as if she could say no – the ‘say’ part or the ‘no’ part.

Oh. This was going to be awkward.