Page 32 of Eternal Ruin

Page List

Font Size:

Slen slid him a glance again. Nodded.

Something passed between them, too faint to decipher.

The professor’s shoes echoed in the hallway before the door swung open.

“Welcome to Mastering a House Law.” Professor Andreyas’s words rose in the horribly empty room. Last semester, this room had been filled with twitching, nervous students. It was only the three now.

Kidan felt like an insect under his scrutinizing gaze, while his ancient eyes and mahogany face always gave the presence of a painting come to life.

“You should be proud of yourselves for getting this far. This is the most students I’ve had for this class.” He fixed each of them with a look. “I taught your parents in this same room. Omar Umil, the artist. Koril Qaros, the musician. Mahlet Adane, the historian.”

Their parents’ names settled a heaviness in the room. Kidan’s head bowed. It made her skin feel weird hearing her mother’s name, like wearing too-tight clothes or trying to fill out a dwarfing coat.

Slen hardened her face at the mention of her abusive father while Yusef simply looked guilty.

If the professor took note of their reactions, he said nothing.

“Actis, last semester, you had free rein over Uxlay to fulfill your studies of Dranacti, but you will be the hunted from this year on. It is the price you pay for taking a life, that is, allowing yours to be taken as well. Of course, you may defend yourself as you see fit. It’s unlikely any students will pass Dranacti this year. I have yet to meet the cohort but I doubt they’d be as promising as you.”

Promising. Her professor was funny.

“Now, who can tell me what the purpose of a house is?” He settled on the corner of his wide desk.

“To be mastered,” Slen offered at once.

“No, to master yourself,” he corrected, making her brow furrow. “Houses were created to teach humans self-control. Some masters meditated alone in caves for years and understood the importance of conquering the mind and body before attempting to set foot in their houses. As such, there is no difference between ahouse and its master. They are one. The house echoes the mind, shares the body, and manifests the will. Master yourself and you will master the house.”

The house echoes the mind, shares the body, and manifests the will.

Kidan typed those words, absorbing the lessons eagerly. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard this. How a house and its master were not separate entities but one. It intrigued her how that worked.

Mostly, though, everything hinged on understanding this class.

“Houses abide by one singular law—only one. To impart a law on a house, there are three important criteria you will learn. We will cover this during Mastering a House Law. But first, there are two topics we must discuss. Mastering culture and mastering power.”

Kidan’s fingers tingled, her body leaning forward.

“You were all assigned readings over the break. What did you learn fromMastering Culture Before Law?”

As always, Slen began. “The Aarac translation I’ve found on the main topic is ‘culture defines law.’ One cannot set a law without knowing the parameters of a culture.”

“Do you all agree with the statement?”

They nodded.

“Then share your source.”

Unlike last time, Kidan was ready with her notes. “A small village in the highlands of Ethiopia governs itself by different laws than the city. In rural areas, a person could kill their elderly to spare them from illness, but such an act will send you to prison in most mainlands.”

The professor nodded. “A house is no different from a village or a country. It has adopted its master’s culture, and forged a law. If you demand it change its laws, the same way you demand it of a country, do you believe it will let you?”

Kidan’s brows drew together. The answer was obviously no. Professor Andreyas paused, letting the complexity of this course slowly dawn on them. Just like Dranacti, nothing would be plain or easy to understand.

“You would have to understand the master’s culture first,” Yusef said, studying his new glove. “Propose a law that fits their traditions.”

Slen glanced over her notes, messy, quick handwriting. “He’s right.”

Yusef smiled a little. “My favorite words.”