Remembering Dalle and Zeke’s reaction to his mention of the next cycle, Tyen turned to Tarren.
“The students were concerned about a rumour going around the school about a sorcerer called the Raen. Who is he?”
Tarren’s smile faded. “Ah. Of course. You won’t know much about him. He would never have visited a world so poor in magic as your home world.” He glanced around the room. “We’re not supposed to discuss him, as it leads to rumours like these.”
The door to the kitchen opened and servants filed in, each carrying two or three plates in one hand and delivering them to the table in a show of dexterity Tyen had always admired.
“Thank you,” Tyen said as Rojiahna laid a plate before him.
She set down a glass and poured a syrupy purple wine from a round-bellied bottle. “Bel wine from R’parne.” Straightening, she watched him lift the glass.
He took a sip and nodded at the pleasing, spicy flavour. She smiled and continued on.
He started to eat. The Liftre had an impressive collection of beverages from many worlds, and when Rojiahna had claimed she could bring him a different one every night for a lifetime he’d challenged her to do so. So far he could not remember drinking the same one twice, though he hadn’t kept any records and he doubted he’d realise, after so many wines, if she had repeated any.
Tarren, he saw, was not eating. The old man’s gaze was distant and sad.
“Are you all right?” Tyen asked.
Tarren glanced at Tyen and nodded. “Yes. Come see me tonight.” He picked up his cutlery and started eating.
With his friend looking distracted by his thoughts, Tyen turned his attention to the rest of the room. It was abuzz with conversation.
“… of his return has circulated the worlds many times before and proven to be false,” a young female teacher was saying. “What is different this time?”
“The veracity of the reports,” the older woman beside her replied. Her name was Ame, Tyen recalled. “They come from reliable sources.”
Corl, a dark-skinned older man, let out a short laugh. “They said that last time.”
“And great damage was done,” another woman said. “We should not be discussing this, or spreading the rumour further.”
“And if it is true? Would it not be better to warn the worlds the monster is back?” Corl argued.
“Monster?” another teacher injected. “He is no monster.”
“… who may use the rumour to intimidate and bully others,” another teacher was saying as the discussion split into two.
“My people worship him as a god,” a younger teacher said. “Still do. Every time the rumour resurfaces the chance of them seeing their error is delayed by many more cycles.”
“There is no harm in that. My people call him the Deliverer.” At this new voice heads turned to a short, middle-aged man with long hair knotted into a ropey curtain. “He saved us when our world was dying.”
“And delivered you to mine, Kik, to steal our lands and enslave us,” another teacher replied. He looked remarkably similar to the middle-aged man, except his head was smooth and hairless.
Kik’s eyes narrowed. “That was never his intention. We were forced to take action after your people refused to share your resources with us, Areio.”
“That is a lie,” Areio said, pointing at him with his table knife. “We helped you, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted the best lands, the best of everything we had, and you wouldn’t work for it.
Kik rose. “You gave us unworkable land. You wanted us to starve!”
“We were all starving after your people came! We didn’t have crops to feed double the—”
As the argument continued other voices joined in, cutting across the pair’s retorts.
“Perhaps it was his plan all along.”
“That was nearly three hundred cycles ago. It’s not his fault that you can’t settle your differences. Just… get over it.”
“Peace! Peace! We are all here to learn and teach!”
“He rescued the people of my world, too, but there was a price. It was not worth it.”
“Rescued! He helped you wipe out an entire race! To the last child!”
“A race that had enslaved and tortured us. What would you do? Invite them to dinner?”
Tyen had never seen the teachers arguing so passionately about something not related to the running of the school. His ears rang from the noise. He glanced at Tarren, who was watching it all with a look of wry amusement.
“It’s only a rumour!” someone yelled over the voices.
“Yes! We don’t know if he has returned,” another added.
Silence followed, then a few people muttered under their breath. Kik glanced around and sat down. Some of those who had been arguing looked down at their plates and picked up their cutlery.