Foundations: A Cultivation Academy Series (Bastion Academy Book 1) Read online

  He turned with a start, then his face lit up with a grin. “Jiyong!” He bowed deeply, and I returned the gesture.

  I nodded at the wrinkled paperwork in his hands and the colorful pentagon crest on his dobok. “You made it into Bastion. Congratulations.”

  “You too, I see! I’m so glad to have someone I know at school,” he said jubilantly.

  I smiled. “Same.”

  “ID checks! Have your identification ready.” A man in sungchal armor said as he boarded the stopped train.

  Cho and I smoothed out the papers again and held them out. The guard looked over each sheet, then inspected our faces carefully. “Lucky boys,” he said with an air of superiority that heated my blood. “What’s in your bags?”

  I pulled my pack from my shoulder, allowing the ry munje I’d stored earlier that morning to slip down my arm and into the pack. I unbuckled the bag and threw back the lid, exposing some clothes, a bento box, a portrait of my family, and a few assorted bathroom items.

  The sungchal moved his hand through the clothes and lifted the portrait, then moved on. “Fine.”

  I held back my sigh of relief and buckled up my bag. Cho did the same and the guard moved on. When they checked everyone on the train, they left, and I let my held breath out in a long sigh.

  “They always make me nervous,” Cho said with a shiver.

  I nodded, the weight of the contraband in my backpack seeming to intensify. The Bastion bylaws explicitly stated that no first-year student would be allowed a personal project, since they were too distracting, but I couldn’t leave my artifact at home, not when I was so close to figuring it all out. Tuko and my control panel... well, that was just in case Se-hun was wrong about everything being fine. I had to be prepared for the worst.

  The train honked a quick warning, and the doors closed. Then we were on our way. Cho and I leaned against the window as we approached the massive metal wall that blocked the kingdom from the inner-cities.

  Two people dressed in red doboks stood on a platform next to the gate. They circled their arms overhead as bright yellow munje formed in halos. The two planted their feet, then thrust their arms forward toward the gate at the same time. The halos rocketed toward the iron wall and hit with a crackle.

  The train shuddered, the overhead lights flickering for a moment, and then we were moving forward through the tunnel into the kingdom.

  “Have you ever seen it before?” Cho asked as our car moved into darkness, leaving the last inner-city behind.

  I shook my head. “Never. You?”

  “First for me, too.”

  We waited, kneeling backwards on the seats with faces practically pushed up against the glass, until we saw light coming from the front of the train. My stomach fluttered with anticipation, and Cho’s hands beat against the top of the seat like a drum.

  The tunnel came to an end and bright light blinded me. I blinked away the starbursts in my vision and opened my eyes. Towering buildings of silver and prismatic glass lined the train’s tracks like glimmering guardians. Bridges stretched from building to building above us, and I could see figures walking behind the colorful glass.

  The tracks curved ahead, giving us a view of the sparkling white palace. Turrets taller than the buildings around us shot up into the sky. They flanked the main body of the palace, a massive construct that didn’t seem possible.

  The huge pagoda rose out of the sea of shimmering steel and glass buildings like a mountain of diamond. When the sun hit the angles of the roof, rainbows of light beamed down to the massive tree-filled courtyard below. Twinkling blue water from the bay came all the way up to the palace edge where cannons sat mounted on a thick wall surrounding the base.

  The train curved around the bend and pulled the palace out of view.

  “Wow,” Cho gasped.

  “Same,” I said, breathlessly.

  The train slowed to its first stop, and we watched the people walking on the clean paved streets in their well-tailored hanboks and sun dresses. Everyone was so meticulous, so well put together, and most of them smiled. Their joy was infectious, and I couldn’t keep a grin from my face.

  Tiny food stalls with bright neon signs advertising ice cream, coffee, and street toast were positioned along the roads where trollies sped through. Before I had a chance to take it all in, the train was moving again. Cho and I stepped up to the door, looking at the light sign that projected our position, and the next stops. Ours was close. That realization twisted my stomach, but steady breathing kept my porridge down.

  My hands got clammy when I realized that I’d brought contraband into this place... What could be my punishment for that? Surely expulsion. I could hide my artifact easily enough as the faux bento box, but Tuko and the control panel were another thing entirely. They were much too large to hide on school property, so I’d have to stash them somewhere safe and nearby.

  The train slowed at the next station, one stop away from Bastion, and I got up. “I’m going to walk the rest of the way. I’ll see you there,” I said to Cho-bin as I moved toward the door.

  He jumped up. “I’ll walk, too. I want to see everything.”

  I hid my grimace as he followed me out to the platform. My sour mood instantly disappeared as the scents of the city rushed through my nostrils. It was divine! Sweet, salty, smoky, hot flavors wafted through the air from the shops below us, and my mouth watered. There were flavors I’d never smelled in my entire life, and I conjured some of my ry to translate that smell into something visual.

  My mind’s eye filled with a puffy, circular shaped dough with a hole punched through the middle of it and a coating of dark brown glaze over the top. I let the ry trickle down my arm and swirled my hand through the air, drawing the image.

  “Have you ever had this before?” I asked Cho.

  He shook his head. “It smells amazing. Do you have any money?”

  My heart sank. “No. We should get to school.”

  “I have a little, if you want to share one.” He grinned as he produced some copper guli from his pocket.

  “I can’t,” I said and waved away the offer. I knew how long it took to earn that much in outer-city the legal way. I couldn’t put my new friend out like that.

  Cho nodded solemnly.

  We walked on, following the raised train tracks from the streets below. There weren’t many people on foot between the avenues, since the train ran the length of them. Even fewer walked down the avenues where the trollies—which we discovered were free to use—stopped at every street corner. It was a wonder the people remembered how to walk at all.

  The sweet smells and frequent trolley crossings didn’t taper off as we neared Bastion Academy, and I wasn’t finding any good location to hide Tuko.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you,” Cho said quietly.

  My brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged. “The money. I’m sorry. I should’ve known, you have so many siblings.”

  I shook my head. “I wasn’t offended.”

  We stepped across the next street and glimmering pentagons filled with gold, red, purple, black, and green pulled my attention. We moved around the last tall building, and the stacked pagoda of the school emerged. It was shimmering white, like the palace, but drenched in the colorful light projections of munje.

  The light danced over the surface of the building until it formed together into the crest of Bastion Academy. After a moment, the colors separated again and moved all over the building and surrounding trees.

  Students in the same Bastion doboks filed down the stairs from the train stop and through the wide-open, dark wood gates. The grounds for Bastion must’ve been several squared kilometers, with a private forest sprouting out of the southeast and a dozen buildings poking up behind the tall wall surrounding it.

  My awe morphed to fear as I realized I still had not stashed Tuko. “I need to... go over here for a moment,” I said to Cho as I looked down the dim alley between buildings.

  “W
hat’s wrong?” he asked, forehead wrinkled with worry.

  “I’ll catch up,” I said as I waved him off and proceeded down the narrow passage. It was damp, with savory smelling steam rising from vents just above my head. Through the mist I saw an outcropping from the building, just above a door. There was a narrow platform above that and another vent that billowed with cooking smoke.

  It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. I dug my fingers into the thin lip of the doorframe and directed zo into my hands and arms. With a bit of effort, I pulled myself up to the platform and rolled over the edge. The area was empty aside from the vent and didn’t appear as if anyone ever came up.

  I pulled Tuko and the control panel from my bag and tucked them into the corner, laying one of my water-resistant work shirts across it. I inhaled the salty smoke and closed my eyes, looking into my center. The band shifted until the ry block sat over the crystal in my core, and I breathed, funneling the energy around me through it.

  With a snap, I flicked my hands out and launched the ry at the shirt, coating it in reflective magic. I opened my eyes and stepped away from the bundle. It was nearly invisible now as it mimicked its surroundings—a similar spell to what Se-hun cast the night we were almost caught by sungchal. The spell could last up to several weeks if undisturbed, and so I left it behind with the hope that no one would stumble across it.

  When I emerged at the edge of the alley, Cho-bin was still waiting. He raised an eyebrow at me. “Better?”

  I nodded, not wanting to disclose anything. If there was one thing I knew about doing something illicit, it was not to tell anyone who you didn’t want to see punished for your misdeeds or didn’t trust not to rat you out for them. I felt that Cho was a good guy, so good he would betray our very tentative friendship if he thought I was doing something dangerous. Best to keep him out of the loop, for now.

  We crossed the street to the looming wall of Bastion Academy grounds and joined the group of students as they filed into the building. Adults in brilliantly colored doboks with curling symbols of munje in silver thread flanked the gates, welcoming students and checking their identification.

  A nagging sensation, like being watched from behind, alerted me to an attempted ry intrusion. I focused my munje on deflecting this breach of privacy and casually scanned the crowd for anyone with their eyes on me. The prickle on my neck came again as whoever it was gave their spell more effort. The scent of lilacs filled my nose, though I saw none nearby. It must’ve been a trace of my intruder.

  Amethyst irises darted away from mine as my gaze landed on a girl with long hair as black as night. My breath caught in my chest, and I looked away, but I remembered her features as if I’d looked at her for an hour.

  She had a small, round nose that was slightly upturned, full pink lips that shimmered with gloss, a narrow chin, and ears decorated with cuffs and chains. But those eyes were what lingered in my mind the longest. The way they burned with purple fire, an intensity I’d never seen.

  The sensation of being watched subsided as she retracted her ry. I watched her through the crowd as she moved in front of me, and I squeezed my way past a few students to get in range.

  She presented her papers to the gate guardian. “Jun, Hana.”

  Hana. My chest burned as her radiant eyes flashed through my mind over and over. What was this spell she’d put me under? I breathed deep and ran a cleanse of zo munje through my body, sloughing off any residual ry she’d left behind, but there was none. Yet still, her eyes bore into me through the memory.

  “Law, Jiyong,” I said as I showed the man my papers, keeping my eyes on Hana as she moved into the courtyard. The white stone path leading to the main pagoda glimmered where she stepped, and I blinked, uncertain if what I was seeing was real.

  Cho gave his name behind me. I moved on without him, not wanting to lose her. I stepped between the cherry blossom trees that lined the path when a heavy, unfriendly hand landed on my shoulder with a tight grip.

  It was followed by an even more unfriendly voice. “What do you think you’re doing, ganhan?”

  Chapter 8

  I TURNED TO FACE THE man who’d just called me worse than sewage scum and was surprised to see a boy my age, perhaps a year older, and a few good centimeters taller. He had dark brown hair and eyes, pale skin with tiny blemish scars peppering his cheeks and forehead, a wide nose with nostrils flaring even wider, and a square jaw with muscles clenched.

  “I said, what do you think you’re doing, ganhan,” the bully repeated, and I breathed deep to keep my temper at bay. I’d been called ganhan before; this was nothing new, and neither was this bully.

  Picking a fight with an outsider on the first day to assert his dominance over the school, as if it were his to rule. There were plenty of kids like this in outer-city Primary, and the group always rose up to put them back down in their place. I didn’t think the group would come to my rescue here, though, so it was up to me to do something about it.

  I looked at him blankly. “I’m walking.”

  His lip curled up. “You think you’re funny?”

  “Sometimes.”

  This caused his entire upper lip to rear back in a snarl. “You’re not. You’re a filthy outsider, and you don’t deserve to be walking on these grounds.”

  I pulled my paperwork from my pocket and held it out for him to see. “Yes, I do.”

  Cho stepped to my side with his chest puffed up, though it did very little to make him look intimidating. “Let’s get our schedules, Jiyong.”

  The bully stared me down, then shot a sidelong glance at Cho, who kept his chest inflated the whole time. The bully leaned in closer, and I could see Cho’s fists flexing. I kept my breathing calm and steady, ready to release a burst of zo munje at a moment’s notice.

  The bully whispered as he glared. “Keep your eyes to yourself, or I’ll pluck them out.”

  “Shin-soo,” came a sweet voice as soft as a flute. “Are you picking fights again?” Hana stepped around me and waggled a finger at the bully, Shin-soo.

  He grimaced. “I was defending your honor. He was following you, watching you.”

  Her amethyst eyes looked me up and down. I felt naked under her intense gaze, but she used no spells against me. She looked back to Shin-soo. “Perhaps it’s not my honor you should concern yourself with this time.” She walked away without another word, leaving me, Shin-soo, and Cho with mouths agape as we watched her go.

  Shin-soo snapped his jaw shut and pointed a finger much too close to my face. “I’m watching your every move, ganhan.”

  “Be sure to take notes.” It wasn’t my best comeback, but Hana’s interference had me stumbling over my thoughts. What had she meant about “this time” and her honor? They obviously knew one another from before, but where? Primary, perhaps...

  Shin-soo ground his teeth, then stormed off.

  Cho let out his long-held breath with a sigh. “What did you do?”

  I shrugged. “I felt that girl, Hana, pushing ry munje on me, trying to find something. I was following her, but only because I wanted to know what she was doing, and why.”

  Cho scoffed. “What a great first day. Come on, let’s see where we’re rooming and get the schedules.”

  No one else bothered us as we made our way down the white path to the main pagoda. The first-year students didn’t get to enter the main pagoda right away, but we did get to admire the outside while collecting all of our needed items. The building was several stories high, made mostly of white stone, like the palace. The similarities made their connection more real in my mind. Bastion was a kingdom school.

  The first stop was to get a more permanent ID for the year. I sat on a stool as an en munje user scrawled a finger across a blank metal sheet. Lines etched into the surface soon became evident as my portrait. After a minute, she presented me with a badge complete with an accurate depiction of my face, my name, my class year, and my home city.

  Next stop was for schedules. Instead of paper, howev
er, there were small cylindrical disks the size of my palm—almost like the relic I had in my bag—that projected our names on the air above it in blue light out of a small gap in the top. I picked mine up, and when the base touched my skin, my schedule appeared in more blue light where my name had been.

  I stepped away from the group with Cho, and we compared our class list. We shared Zo Strengthening I with Master Li-Zigi, Munje Recycling with Woong-ji—the instructor who had tested me—and Li Harmony with Sung-ki—the other instructor who tested me and seemed unimpressed with my skill. We had overlapping dining schedules, and a Garden Chore hour, but were otherwise going to be on our own. It could’ve been worse.

  Last stop was for rooming, and for this I was most grateful. The outer-city students had their own lodging farthest away on the grounds, near the glade. While I realized it was a slight against us, it was certainly beneficial to me since I needed to hide contraband.

  Another tiny disk gave us a map of the grounds, with classroom numbers, lodging designations, activity areas, and more. I’d never seen this much ancient technology used for such diverse purposes, and I marveled at the tech. I was going to inspect it more deeply with ma munje as soon as I was alone.

  We carried our bags back out to the courtyard, following the white path along to the south toward the student lodging. There were eighteen resident pagodas in total. The first one on the left was for fifth-year students, males and females. That seemed like a bad idea, but it saved space.

  The next two on each side were for fourth-year males and females, then four pagodas for third year, and from there the number of necessary pagodas increased significantly. I ran the numbers through my head. Five hundred first-year students were allowed in, but by fifth year they all shared a single pagoda with one hundred bedrooms. That was an eighty percent drop-out rate. Or perhaps, fail-out.

  Cho and I wound our way through the little village of students, feeling the eyes of the upper classmen on us as we went. The fifth years were completely uninterested, as were most of the fourth years, but the farther into the resident village we got, the more eyes were on us.