Chapter 4: Rachel’s Nerdy Dad

It soon came to pass that Chissler once again had control over our fate. I would’ve revealed his part in our conspiracy, but he held many of the young Lurrannas captive ... including you, son.

Rachel could hardly believe her grandmother lately. First, the woman treats her like dirt for asking questions, then she sulks like a child when Rachel avoids her. And now this.

You picked a heck of a time to act like a worried relative, Saria, Rachel thought to herself, refusing to grant the woman the title of ‘granny’ even in her head.

Just like any respectable Second Level Elemental Mentor, Rachel had chosen to stay to help Éclair with her training for the Final Exam. This was her first time mentoring, and she would have to take many more tests of her own before she was chosen to take the Third Level Trials. It might take years, or perhaps even decades, or perhaps never. Some Elementals never made it to Level Three. Most did and stopped advancing there, but some didn’t. But Rachel would never be able to look Saria in the eye if she didn’t at least make it to Third.

Of course, Rachel would rather be doing other things. Perhaps work on her own skills back at the Ministry, or maybe go on a long-term mission for a few months to get away from Tarrus for a little while. But like the studious Kaves granddaughter she was, she had decided to stay for Éclair’s sake, and to show her grandmother that she could be responsible when she felt like it. And how does Saria Kaves react? Does she give even the slightest acknowledgment to how difficult this decision must’ve been for Rachel due to years of resentment towards Éclair that she was only beginning to resolve? No! Instead, she badgers Rachel to go back to the Ministry and stay out of the way, just when things were getting interesting.

Seething inwardly, Rachel still recalled the overly fatalistic conversation.

“All I’m saying is that it would probably be safer for you to stay back at the Ministry for a little while. At least until the Final Exam is ended,” reiterated the Fire Minister, clearly trying to stay civil this time, but that old manner of condescension in her voice was hard to shake.

Saria Kaves was a tall woman, and very well endowed too, something that not even her flowing red and gold robes could hide. She had long, flowing brown hair and brown eyes, which Rachel had inherited (though her own hair was a fair bit shorter and curlier). The golden symbols of the Fire Ministry adorned the older woman’s red robes, with depictions of Lions and four-legged Dragons sewn into the silken fabric. Her face was angular, but also possessed a regality one would only expect to find in royalty. She had light, fair skin, like Rachel, and was much taller, making her already menacing presence all the more intimidating.

“Elementals should not expect to be safe. The Elemental will make the universe safe for others, but never for himself,” quoted Rachel from the Toramir Edict. She didn’t usually quote from the Edict directly as it seemed too stuffy for her. That was something Éclair would do, but it seemed appropriate as her grandmother did enjoy talking down at her. Now, she had the high ground for once.

“Danger goes hand in hand with the Elemental. He walks with it, but never fears it,” Rachel continued, maintaining a calm expression as she stood at attention despite her irritation.

Saria sighed and crossed her arms under her large bosom. “Don’t throw the Toramir Edict back at me, girl. I memorized all ten thousand verses before even your mother was born. Besides, you said it wrong.”

Despite herself, Rachel frowned, and couldn’t help the petulant tone that came out when she asked, “Which part?”

“Not the point,” retorted Saria with a dismissive wave, though Rachel was genuinely curious to know. “The point is that something is coming ... here ... to this moon. Why do you think the Fire Fleet and the Monastery’s Armada are buzzing all over the skies? Or did you really believe that tripe about it being nothing but a joint training exercise?”

Rachel stiffened at the jibe, but maintained her stance at attention, straight back and arms at her side with a stoic expression. “It’s got to do with Éclair, doesn’t it? Whatever’s coming, it’s coming for her.”

Saria didn’t answer, but from the way her mouth tightened, she didn’t have to. Her grandmother never did have a good poker face.

Rachel spoke calmly, but inwardly rejoiced for scoring at least one victory over her grandmother for once. “If there is anything you’ve taught me, it’s that personal feelings don’t matter when a job needs to be done. The way I see it, my job as Éclair’s elder teammate is to help in her training and protect her if she’s in danger. You’ve drilled it into my skull how she’s more important than I’ll ever be. Even though I doubt she’ll ever take her throne back from Chissler, I’ll still give my life to see to her safety.”

Saria raised her hand in concern, reaching towards Rachel. “I never wanted that for-”

Rachel interrupted, though most would’ve been terrified to do so in the presence of the Fire Minister, and with good reason. “Further, she’s still in the middle of the Final Exam. She hasn’t even figured out she’s taking it yet despite how smart everyone thinks she is. I’m still one of the proctors in charge of judging how she scores, am I not?”

Saria’s hand froze in midair as if she had intended to take Rachel by the shoulder and shake her, then she lowered it slowly. She seemed displeased at being interrupted, but neglected to comment as she said dryly, “Yes.”

“Then according to tradition, the decision of my removal rests with the Exam Overseers who answer to the Wielder Council, not to the Minister. You can’t dismiss me without convening the Council, or unless the Overseers lodge a formal complaint against me, which they haven’t. Not even the Minister can influence the Exams, at least not directly. The balance of governmental bodies is maintained within the Ministry much the same as within the whole of the Empire itself. You’re no more an Empress than Éclair is at this point.”

Rachel was feeling rather smug right up until Saria smiled at her. It was not a grandmotherly smile. “Seems you’ve learned the art of how to find loopholes to annoy me. I always hated that about your mother. Never quite figured out where she got it from. In any case, you do know that I could probably get you removed eventually if I pressed this with the Wielder Council. That ... and much, much more.” Saria leaned forward intimidatingly, a hint of a threat in her leveled tone.

It took every ounce of Rachel’s willpower to stand her ground before the glaring Minister, a virtual demigod in human form. “I know you can, but I don’t think you will. Because in all the time I’ve known you, you’ve rarely taken away a person’s choice before. Especially when that choice involved doing their duty. It’s not like you to coddle those under you and shield them from danger. So don’t give me special treatment now.”

Saria’s glare would not relent as she inched closer, seeming to loom over Rachel. “You’re willing to press this, even if it means the end of your career? Even if I threatened to make sure you stayed a Second for the rest of your life?”

Rachel didn’t flinch at the bluff, or at least she hoped it was a bluff. “Without hesitation, my lady.”

Saria sighed, relaxing as she sat back in her chair. The ‘my lady’ thing seemed to annoy Saria, but strangely softened her at the same time. “You’re right. I wouldn’t take that choice from you. I was already a soldier at your age, so I can expect no less from you. And if even I can’t frighten you at this point, girl, then not much will.” She added almost hesitantly. “Though perhaps, there is much that should.”

Rachel almost jolted, not expecting the Minister to concede so easily. Apparently, she had passed whatever test was meant in that steely-eyed glare. She drew in a deep breath, only now realizing that she had stopped breathing as she waited for Saria’s response. “Will that be all, my Lady Minister?”

The Minister grinned wryly, and Rachel was loathed to find out what it meant. Has she not given up yet? Does she still have something up her sleeve?

“Not quite yet, Second,” said Saria as she went to her desk and grabbed a datapad that sat on the translucent, glass top. The datapad was made of glass with green holographic images of ships from the Fire Fleet floating centimeters above its surface. “Could you take this communique over to the Relay Station for me?”

Rachel frowned. “Can’t you just ... you know ... send it? There’s this little thing called the universal web, also called the uniweb. It’s been around for a while now. Like, the past ten thousand years, give or take.”

I don’t think she’s older than that. Is she?

Saria nodded absently. “I could do that, but you know, I’m old and stuff. And technology scares us old gals, so I’d really rather you take it there for me, ‘kay?” The Fire Minister mockingly copied Rachel’s voice when she spoke.

Rachel knew she should stop arguing and just do the chore. The Relay Station wasn’t even that far. But the way that Saria mocked her way of speaking made Rachel feel like being stubborn. “I’m pretty sure you have plenty of lackeys that can do that kind of stuff for you.”

The Minister’s smile never left her face. “Oh, that I do, but I think I’d rather you be one of those lackeys for me today.”

Rachel opened her mouth to bring up how a proctor should not be detained from her training duties with her student without due cause. As if reading her mind, the Minister cut her off with an upraised finger.

“And before you try to find another loophole to countermand me, you should know that this Communique pertains to the Exams, already reviewed and approved by the Overseers and the Wielder Council. It might even affect the way you are to judge your students going forward. So I’m perfectly within my rights to request that it be brought to the Relay Station in a manner that I deem safest and most efficient ... according to tradition, as you so aptly put it. And right now, that means you, dear granddaughter.” The Minister held out the datapad expectantly.

Rachel ground her teeth as she snatched the datapad from Saria’s hands and stalked away. She just had to find a way to have the last word, didn’t she? And put me in my place while she was at it!

As Rachel made her way around the corner towards the Relay Station (it really wasn’t that far) she couldn’t help but overhear the sound of conversation coming from inside. The door had been left open as if someone had just entered. A guard still stood stationary outside the entrance, of course, but he leaned towards the inside slightly as if fascinated by a circus act.

There was an insistent and frantic chattering going on inside that seemed somewhat familiar. Someone was speaking so fast that his words were almost indecipherable. But that breathy, chittering voice was unmistakable. The way he spoke, so excited and giddy that he hardly bothered taking a breath between sentences, as if desperate to get everything out as fast as possible. Before Rachel knew what she was doing, she ran inside the Relay Station, right past the guard before he could protest.

And right before her eyes stood none other than her father. Renowned Scientist and Psionic Researcher, Doctor Andrew Lanchester. He had slightly pudgy features and half-shaven stubble on his cheeks and chin. His face seemed youthful, but the man was well into his fifties, which wasn’t young for most regular humans Rachel had to remind herself. The man had a messy mop of greasy black hair that hung in tangles all across his face, almost hiding his eyes. He wore a white lab coat over a green T-shirt that bore several small orange and purple stains, no doubt from his countless experiments with various chemicals and such. The man was portly. Not terribly fat, but he did have a sizeable gut all the same.