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    Thirdly
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

He's a Bastard - 2. Chapter 2- An Arch-Passage

 

"Didn't mean to interrupt," I replied in a tone that was too huffy and childish even to my own ears. "Then again, I wasn't the one who left the door wide open."

What was that one phrase about never meeting your heroes? While Revelin Eferize wasn't someone I considered to be a hero, his supposed deeds made him out to be someone with just a little more decorum. What, exactly, did I expect to see? A wearied scholar with bags beneath his eyes and unkempt hair toiling away at paperwork behind a desk? Thoughts of desks brought to mind that blasted table again, along with what he and the young redhead were doing on top of it. Wait, I'd almost forgotten about that other guy.

"I'll be going now," the copper-haired man in question announced through clenched teeth as he stomped about gathering his clothing.

"Aww, no! Keith, wait," Revelin pleaded as he helped hand him his shoes. "Don't you want me to guide you back?"

"No thanks," The redhead snorted. "That's the last time I ever let you guide me anywhere." The sound of the door closing behind him seemed to echo in the workroom.

"Right. It took me an entire month to get into Keith's pants. Well, so much for that." Revelin grumbled aloud.

"You," I frowned as I made questioning gestures with my hands out of frustration. "You were the one who sent me a copy of the key in the first place. Not to mention you didn't hear my knocking at the front door, nor did you lock this door!"

"Frankly, kid, I was getting tired of training assistants discovering my frolicking ways," he spoke the last two words in a high, shrilly tone of mockery. "Only to run off and plead to be reassigned to someone else. This time, I wanted everything out in the open from the beginning. Though, from the look on your face, maybe I went a little overboard?"

I opened my mouth as if to refute it. But then I began to doubt. Had Eferize written or explained that he was promiscuous, I still wouldn't have grasped just how carefree he seemed to be had I not seen it with my own eyes. I felt my face begin to flush in embarrassment at the mere thought of him being right.

And then, Revelin's lips formed into the smirk that I would grow to hate and love. At that moment, however, I didn't think anything of that expression and how it never boded well.

"Have you ever operated an Arch-Passage before, little one?" He asked.

"Don't call me that; I'm twenty-one," I responded immediately. The question took a while to sink in. "An Arch-Passage? Not yet, sir."

"Very well," Revelin replied as he dug for his pants and finally slipped them on. My gaze couldn't help but be drawn to his backside with the movement. Shit. What was wrong with me?

"Follow me. And, for future reference, call me Revelin."

"I'd rather not, Mr. Eferize." I countered, keeping my eyes fixated on the ceiling.

"That's hardly fair," Revelin complained. "How would you like it if I continuously called you Mr.Kairos?"

"I'd prefer it, actually," I answered promptly.

"Of course you would," Revelin said with a sigh. "Which is why 'Cy,' it is." I felt my expression falter with those words.

Revelin opened a floor panel in the corner of the workroom before leading me down a set of stairs. A long line of fluorescent lights that reminded me of neon signs lit the entire staircase. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I realized that we were in another room. In the center was an arch that appeared to be carved out of sapphires. My mentor drew my attention to the floor around the arch. Three rings with grooves surrounded the arch. I didn't know what the rings were made of, but the metallic glint reminded me of orichalchum.

My mentor spun the outer ring. "This circle designates which dimension." The ring stopped on a symbol that looked like the zodiac sign of 'Capricorn.'

"What do the symbols mean?" I asked.

"The symbols are placeholders for the different dimensions. Capricorn replaces the number 'one' and, in this case, symbolizes the 'home' dimension," Revelin explained. "Every Wanderer has a different set of twelve symbols. Some use actual numbers, and others use the names of the months. Whatever helps them remember which dimension is which."

"I see."

Revelin spun the ring in the middle. "This circle designates which country." The ring stopped on a symbol that looked like a chicken. "Don't ask me about the symbols here. As before, it's my personal way of remembering which country is which."

"You drew those symbols yourself, didn't you?" I teased. "Not everyone can be an artist." The glare he sent me was plenty of an answer.

Revelin spun the inner and final ring. "This last circle designates which area of the country." The ring stopped on a symbol that looked like a castle.

"Ah, so we're going to Darenvy Castle in Phoenix?"

I tried not to appear too smug when Revelin looked at me in surprise.

"Only so many countries are named after mythical birds," I replied. "At least in this dimension, anyhow."

"Not bad." He admitted reluctantly. "Well, now that the coordinates are in place, we just walk right on through the arch to the other side."

"What does it feel like? Walking through the arch?" I wondered aloud.

"Need me to hold your hand as we walk through?" he teased, reaching out a hand towards me.

"That won't be necessary," I responded, avoiding Revelin's hand altogether.

The ravenet stepped through first. I paused for a deep breath. What I'd learned at the Academy pertained mostly to theory rather than practice. Following Master Revelin through, I hoped hard that I wouldn't embarrass myself on the other side.

Copyright © 2015 Thirdly; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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