Few fears grip the heart of a loving parent more than the fear their child will disappear without a trace. The alarm was no less real for him as Mark’s teacher. His heart pound within his chest as he spent three sleepless days searching in every way he knew possible for his student. He could not leave the cloister to investigate the disappearance. It took another week of sporadic searching using limited methods before he was forced to accept that he had lost his first and only pupil.

Mark was a source of deep pride for Nemo. The boy had grown in a few short years from an adolescent prone to childish tantrums into a respectful young man. It was with great reluctance he formally requested his superior’s audience regarding his student’s disappearance. Even more galling was the denial of his request. Instead he was ordered to be present at an emergency council meeting.

As the last augur with a pupil to train, Nemo had hoped deep inside Mark would be the student not to vanish. Instead his circumstances had become bleak as his esoteric calling was categorically dangerous for those he would seek to train.

On the contrary, introducing any person to augury was once of little risk to both teacher and student. Due to measures taken to ensure the safety of both parties involved, the cost of time spent and the danger of a rite backfiring were the two most common risks. Now kidnapping was at the top of the list. It was quite possible Nemo would never again see the face of his student. He would no longer have the pleasure of watching Mark sink another three-point shot against the Buchanan Bears in double-overtime. Where once Nemo’s ears rang with the roars of a crowd cheering on his first student, now there was only a deafening silence.

Footfalls interrupted the quietude in a corridor hewn of stone. Little chatter was audible within the pale walls of their cloister of augurs as it had been occupied by many a dour man and woman over the last two centuries. Nemo stood peering out one of the many latticework windows in the outmost corridor of the top floor in the central tower. He surveyed the grounds around the tower with suspicion as he ran his right hand through his dark Titian hair.

A white-haired man seated on a white stone bench near to him broke the relative silence. “Do you miss your long locks from your fledgling days, Nemo?” the man inquired as he stroked his braided beard. “Worry not. A man your age grows hair on your head faster than I could grow it on my back,” assuaged the elder.

Nemo dismissed the man and sighed airily. “I appreciate your levity, master Noak.”

“You can stop calling me master any day now,” Noak responded. “You took your first fledgling as we all did.”

“Much obliged,” Nemo began, “but I can hardly call off the habits I learned here at the turn of a hat.”

Noak snickered and said, “I always figured there’d be a better way to teach a bit of respect, but I suppose if it worked on a flighty pup such as yourself. Bringing you here was not something I wanted to resort to.”

“I know, master. It’s just that… I had hoped to pass such respect onto the next generation of augurs,” Nemo confessed as he looked down to the elaborate white fringe of his malachite green robes. Only his fringe differed from other augurs as his garb lacked the gold adornments which symbolized the successful mentorship of a pupil.

“Such bangles are worthless, I told you,” Noak dismissed.

“It is what they symbolize, mas–” Nemo caught himself and corrected with a smile, “Noak. I worry for the well-being of my pupil. I cannot descry the boy.”

With a pensive hum Noak leaned back against the wall and continued to stroke his beard. “Most bothersome indeed,” the old man added, “but not out of synch with the reports from the other augurs.”

“There is something else,” Nemo added anxiously as he turned to face his former mentor. “I nearly saw it happen.”

“Nearly?” he questioned. “How could you–”

“I was projecting just as the cloud was cast,” Nemo informed him. “I saw the horror on Mark’s face… I have never seen such a thing! Even when I first appeared to him he was not that shocked.”

“Lower your voice,” Noak persuaded him. “Mind the wishes of the Pontiff. Her rules are unbending.”

“Melaina did not care to hear the details my experience,” Nemo reported bitterly.

“She was likely as unprepared to answer as we all would be,” he responded. “You should find her more amenable in the meeting.”

With a nod Nemo turned to face the lattice once more, taking in the rays of the afternoon sun. “Indeed, my festive friend. Thank you for the reminder.”

“Fest– what?” Noak blurted in confusion. “Friendly perhaps but–”

“Do not think I didn’t recognize the odor of cinnamon so strong on your robes, old chum,” Nemo clarified with a grin. “Ginger snaps and ale?”

The older gentleman rubbed his swelling midsection with both hands and looked down at his pot belly. “Can’t a man enjoy his retirement?” he grumbled.

Nemo laughed quietly and placed his hands on the window sill. “You have been enjoying them long before retirement, Noak. I would hardly say lunch is the appropriate hour for ale, however,” he chided.

“One ale is not wont to kill a man,” Noak said with a finger pointed at his former pupil. “A life lacking in enjoyment is as hollow as this empty hallway.”

“And ‘a stomach sick with swill is a poor substitute for living life,’ as I recall you saying,” he added. “As long as you listen to your own advice you’ll be fine.”

“I could hardly devour one and not the other,” Noak bemoaned. “They’re an inseparable duo all the way down the hatch.”

He chuckled lightly as he looked out to the trees in the distance. No amount of laughter could shake his tension. Where could Mark be? Without any way to contact the staff at the school or any family member he was left to probe the mystery alone. “My pupil struggled with his homework at times,” Nemo confessed as he ran his right index finger along the stone window sill. “But it turns out I was the one learning.”

“You know what the Canticle says of involvement with your charges, Nemo,” he warned. “But such as it is for the teacher. ‘The one who passes on instruction shall in turn bask in knowledge,’ as I am sure you have observed.”

“Unforgettable words. They will forever be burned into my mind,” he grumbled dejectedly.

“You begrudge your training?” Noak asked in surprise.

“It is not my training which grieves me,” he began. “You brought me up yourself, despite what is etched on that heft of rock.”

“Yours was a unique case,” his mentor pointed out.

“Are we not all unique?” Nemo pressed his elder, his voice raised as he turned to face Noak.

“Be at peace,” Noak grunted as he slowly came to a stand. He took a deep breath and added, “I would rather not have our first conversation after these few months devolve into petty arguments over pithy words.” Noak smiled; Nemo knew in his heart his former master was obliged not to openly agree with the blasphemous sentiment.

“Not even for old time’s sake?” Nemo asked rhetorically, if only to quell his unsettled heart.

“I know your care for the boy must have been great,” Noak observed, “perhaps too much so. You must center yourself once more, for the meeting is about at hand.” The older man motioned to the iron-rimmed oak doors now swinging open to reveal the central chamber of the tower. A young man grasped the solid gold handle of each door, using both of their arms to pull the weight of the massive door outward.

“We shall continue this conversation anon,” Nemo declared as he looked to the servants holding the doors open, their faces downcast as they eyed their simple clothing. He looked back to Noak and told him, “Nonetheless I am happy you came here to greet me.”

“Greet you?” Noak cackled. “I am relying on you to relay the details of the meeting to me. Leave nothing unsaid!”

“You need the mystery to keep you entertained,” Nemo claimed with a smile. “After all, it staves off the boredom of retirement.” He turned to walk away and Noak grabbed him by his shoulder.

“I’m telling you, remember well what happens in there,” he chastised. “You know I cannot read your hurried jottings.”

Nemo dismissed the older man by brushing off the man’s hand and chuckling quietly. He walked toward the young men and looked up at the arched doorway, and back down to the ornate, wing-shaped handles on the doors. He had only entered this chamber once as he was sworn in as an augur, so upon his second entry he found himself at awe again with its design. The round oak table in the center was bathed in the afternoon light pouring through the oculus at the top of the domed ceiling and through the western clerestory windows high on the walls of the octagonal room. One by one, six others entered the room behind Nemo – one woman and two middle-aged men, followed by an older woman and an older man – each arriving but two minutes apart. Nemo seated himself near the entrance while the first group bantered quietly to his left. The older man slowly sat down at his right, next to the woman.

Each person in the room eyed him curiously, which he deemed an uncontrollable action; he had met each person in the room naught but once or twice since he took on Mark as a pupil. He could not match a name to their faces, save for the two he had met before on the grounds outside during his training.

First group took their seats, the two men occupying the chairs to Nemo’s left and the women sitting down next to the gold-embossed chair almost directly across from Nemo. He knew from his inauguration the empty seat to be the place of the Pontiff.

All sat in total silence for two more minutes. The elder Augurs closed their eyes during the serene wait imposed by the Pontiff. The silence was broken as the two young men holding the doors behind Nemo blew tiny whistles to announce the arrival of the Pontiff. At this sound every Augur stood and faced the entryway.

Pontiff Melaina Kinsley strode into the chamber with much aplomb, her gold-fringed white robes flowing elegantly to her pearlescent slippers as the two young men accompanied her, one on each side. She paused for a few seconds at her chair, as did the two young men, then she seated herself on her chair and every other augur followed suit. “Plebeians,” her English accent echoed in the chamber, “leave us.”

The two young men looked to the floor again and paced quickly from the room, pulling the massive doors closed behind them.

“The meeting is in session,” Melaina called out, her voice reverberating throughout the chamber. Her carefully braided brown hair was wrapped around the crown of her head and hung down the back of her neck, a symbol of her lengthy service. Though when Nemo first met her in his childhood she had the face of a doll, wrinkles now lined her hazel eyes.

All sat in silence once more as Melaina reached up to the large, gold-bossed tome on the table in front of her. She thumbed through the parchment pages slowly until reaching a point near to its end and stopped to read through her silver spectacles. “Begging your pardon,” she began, “I am still inspecting the notes of this matter as written by the clerk.”

“Has his penmanship faltered?” asked the older man seated next to Nemo.

“Quite the opposite, Harvey. His writing is concise and his form impeccable,” she answered.

“Impressive for a man of seventy-eight years,” Harvey opined.

“Indeed,” Melaina concurred tersely. She finished reading and looked up to Harvey, “That his service could outlast your tenure as Pontiff Ericson continues to impress.” She paused and eyed all of them, then added more forcefully, “But this session was not called jovially. No doubt the gravity of this dilemma weighs on us all, not the least of whom is our newest augur.” She looked directly to Nemo and he felt affirmation in her gaze. “I apologize for not accepting your summons, Augur Ainsworth. Every augur in this room has suffered the loss of their pupil in the last three months. I trust you do not begrudge my reasons for taking auspices over regaling myself on yet another tale of mysterious disappearances.”

“A slight easily overlooked,” Nemo expressed. “If you would hea–”

“Good,” Melaina interrupted. “Now to get to–”

“Begging your pardon, Pontiff,” Nemo said respectfully, “But there is something important about my pupil’s disappearance.”

“Be mindful, boy,” said the man seated to Nemo’s left.

“Mind your own place, Augur Pritchard,” Melaina scorned in exasperation. “Forgive your fellow augur, Nemo. However, now is not the time for uncivility. Please regale us on the details which makes your case so remarkable.”

“As you wish, Pontiff,” Nemo said. “Unlike my fellow augurs, I was able to successfully project myself to my pupil’s side. Having heard of the vanishings, I had done so to warn him of possible danger.”

“You were not instructed to inform your student on matters concerning only his superiors,” Pritchard interjected. “But please, carry on.”

Nemo looked to the man, masking his frustration before he continued. “My apologies. I fretted for the boy’s well-being. As I was saying, I projected to the boy’s home in San Francisco and was not immediately at his side. I looked for him in his bedroom and I…” Nemo took a deep breath to repress his discomfort and continued, “I saw the shock on his face as he looked at me. Then I saw a flash of light envelop me. I was unable to see anything until light faded and the aetheric cloud settled in.”

“Are you sure it was the cloud?” Melaina inquired.

“Yes. My vision warped and ebbed until no feature was distinct before me,” Nemo confirmed, “just as in my training.”

“It seems Augur Dahl’s more practical method did justice by you,” Melaina noted, still placid as ever. “And it served a purpose in this particular instance. I would not seek to repeat it with future pupils, however. I shall make it a priority to have the clerk record your account. A decision must be made on how to move forward with this ordeal. I open the floor to any who might have a suggestion.”

“Should we not investigate this matter firsthand?” Nemo asked right away. Each person’s head turned quickly as his words were met with the critical stare of every man and woman present.

“I… say again?” Melaina asked, clearly nonplussed as her voice broke from its typically serene state.

“You know,” Nemo started, “Go out there an–”

“I thought you were suggesting leaving the cloister for a moment, but,” Augur Pritchard laughed, “I am sure I was hearing things, right? Perhaps I neglected to properly clean my ears when last I bathed.”

“You were trained,” Melaina began calmly again, “no, raised in these walls from the age of nine. In these nineteen years since your first sunrise in the cloister, which day did Augur Dahl inform you that you were permitted to leave this place? It is not proper for any man, woman or child of any station leave the cloister. Such flagrant risks put the entire order at danger of being discovered,” she scorned volubly.

Nemo frowned and coarsely responded, “My apologies, Pontiff.”

The younger woman seated to the Pontiff’s right spoke up. “You are right, Pontiff, though his spell of poor judgment has clued me in on something I have been musing since Kels– since my pupil disappeared.” Nemo looked gratefully to his peer and her ice blue eyes betrayed her sense of empathy for the man’s plight – and her student’s. “As I took auspices last week, the murder of crows did but briefly form the shape of an eye. I found myself beset by a worrisome thought: perhaps the individual responsible for these disappearances possesses… the sight.”

“What makes you believe there is one responsible for these circumstances, Augur Corra?” Melaina inquired.

“That is why I took auspices, Pontiff,” Augur Corra responded. “I mean, to confirm if I should offer the theory. I discerned a positive answer, but the anomaly puzzled me until Nemo conveyed his tale to us.”

“Such a notion is not beyond my own suspicions,” Melaina confessed. “But it is a troublesome notion, indeed.”

“A Mantis seeking out our pupils would be cause enough for alarm,” Harvey interjected. “Though the ability to see the aether is not intrinsically linked with hostile tendencies, it is far beyond coincidence for six students from across the United States to vanish in such a short span of time.”

“Yes,” Melaina concurred, “our pupils cannot break the pact of apprenticeship, but there could be a Mantis able to recognize the precise aetheric signature of such a pact.” Melaina leaned forward and perused the tome once more for a moment, “I would present the motion to inform the Grand Pontiff. All in favor, say aye.”

“Aye,” echoed every augur in the chamber.

“Very well. Our first auspice will be to determine if we commune with the Grand Pontiff,” Melaina noted. “What shall we do, then? We cannot afford to be idle another half-decade, lest our cloister dwindle yet more.”

“I am unsure if my tenure as an Augur will extend long enough to see me through another pupil,” said the older woman seated to Harvey’s right.

“Adelina,” Harvey trailed quietly. “I, ah… I suppose the same could be said of me.”

Melaina sighed in despair and answered, “We shall take auspices for the both of you as well, but as is the case with such things, it has been a pleasure to learn and teach by your sides, Augurs Ericson and Petran. You lead me well to the conclusion that we have no choice but to accept a new generation of pupils, albeit five years too soon.”

The man seated to Pritchard’s left asked, “I don’t disagree, but is breaking the tradition truly the answer?”

“In my time training you as my future replacement,” Melaina began, “I confess I have instructed you to lean on tradition at all times. But when the cloister is at risk, it is best to first take auspices on the matter.”

In Nemo’s brief time as an augur, or even in training to become one, never had he taken auspices as much as the Pontiff was suggesting now. “Can we do this so frequently?” he asked his peers.

“There was a time during the founding of this cloister when there were many auspices taken,” Harvey informed him. “As I was told by my master, this cloister was up for disestablishment many times in its earliest days. So few men and women lived in the United States that they simply had too few candidates to choose from.”

“I relent to reduce our council to five once more,” Melaina interjected, “and your wisdom will be sorely missed in this chamber. However, we have functioned as five without struggle before.”

“I am grateful for the enlightenment, Harvey,” Nemo said with a nod.

“I formally present the motion to accept new pupils,” Melaina said. “The two auguring for retirement must abstain. All in favor, say aye.”

“Aye,” said the three to Nemo’s left.

“Augur Ainsworth?” Melaina inquired, her brow furrowed.

He looked around the table and asked, “But… what of our current pupils?”

“They are of no consequence to us,” Melaina said coldly. “Pupils have disappeared before, either by accidental death or as victims of murder. Such things are dangers of a corrupt world. What say you on the motion to accept a new pupil?”

“A… aye,” he affirmed hesitantly.

“Then we have nothing else to address in this emergency session,” Melaina informed them. “I present the motion to adjourn. All in favor, say aye.”