by Davis Ashura
Soon enough, the Trim was breathing easily, and Rukh turned to the other members of the Red Team. He Healed them as well until all of them were moving about without evidence of discomfort. None of them mentioned Rukh's non-Kumma Talents or looked askance or fearful while he had Healed them.
It hadn't always been the case. The first time the members of the House of Fire and Mirrors had witnessed Rukh Healing, an uneasy hush had fallen upon them. The silence had included both his fellow Martial Masters and the cadets who had been involved. All of them had heard the stories about Rukh's non-Kumma Talents, but hearing wasn't the same as experiencing. Thankfully, their discomfiture had faded over time, and now, it was gone entirely. Any who required Rukh's help simply accepted it without comment or concern.
“Why did your unit perform so poorly?” Rukh asked Cadet Chopil.
The Trim stood at attention. “It was my fault, sir! I shouldn't have engaged with Cadet Prind,” he replied.
“At ease,” Rukh ordered. “Why should you not have engaged Cadet Prind?”
“I underestimated him, sir!” Chopil shouted.
Rukh's lips thinned. It wasn't the answer he had been looking for. He stepped closer to the Trim. “Who took your life?”
“Sir?”
“Are you deaf?” Rukh barked. “I asked who took your life.”
Chopil licked his lips. “I believe it was Cadet Dristh.”
“So it wasn't Prind?”
Farn arrived just then, and he added his glare to the situation.
Chopil glanced askance at Rukh's cousin and stiffened his spine. “No, sir,” he replied.
“Then why do you think your mistake was in engaging Prind?”
Chopil licked his lips again. “I'm not sure what my mistake was.”
“Pathetic,” Farn said. “Victory is taken by those who deserve it, but even in loss, a wise warrior should be able to understand why he was defeated.”
Impossibly, Chopil stiffened even further, his face turning red with anger or embarrassment.
“You have something to say?” Farn demanded.
Rukh held his tongue, waiting to hear how the Trim would answer.
Chopil hesitated. “Would the Martial Master be willing to instruct me?”
Rukh smiled. “Of course. You lost because you set your strongest against Gold Team's supposed weakest. In essence, you engaged in one-on-one combat while the Golds fought as a team. Cadet Beol recognized your mistake and exploited it. Your supposed strongest was held up by Gold's weakest just long enough for the other Golds to support him and 'kill' you. After that, with their three to your two, the Reds were doomed.”
Chopil frowned. “But in the accounts of your battles in the Chimera caverns and Stronghold, it's how you fought. You stood alone and unbending with your skill and faithful blade against the rage of a horde.”
Rukh scowled. Was that truly the lesson the cadets of his martial academy had taken from his battles? And what was it with the manner in which Chopil had just spoken? It sounded like the Trim had recited some bad drama he'd read. It was absolute stupidity.
“If I could have fought with my brothers against the Chimeras, I would have,” Rukh growled. “And Stronghold was a massacre. Without the Kesarins, we would have all died. I never fought alone there.”
“But, sir, we've watched you train. You defeated two Martial Masters by yourself.” Chopil's voice sounded eager, young, and full of awe.
Rukh wanted to shake the Trim loose of his foolishness. How could a senior cadet at the House of Fire and Mirrors be so wrongheaded? Just a few years ago, Rukh had been just another student to these Trims, but all too often, it sounded like some of them harbored some sort of hero worship toward him. It defied reason.
“I was only able to defeat two Martial Masters because I can Blend,” Rukh reminded the rest of the Trims, all of whom appeared to be listening intently. “Once they accounted for my Talent, they were able to defeat me.”
“But you're still victorious once every third time—”
“Once every third means I'm dead two out of three,” Rukh snapped, having heard enough. “Ten laps. Get it done!”
Cadet Chopil rammed back to rigid attention. “Yes, sir!”
Members of Gold Team snickered as the Reds trotted out behind Chopil.
Rukh's attention surged to them. “And you've earned the privilege of joining them,” he barked. “Move it!”
Groans met his command, but Gold Team was soon trailing after the Reds.
“I've never seen you get so angry at Trims like that,” Farn noted.
“Never had a reason to,” Rukh replied.
Jaresh arrived just then and whistled at the swiftly retreating Red and Gold Teams. “What happened to them?” he asked, walking up to join Rukh and their cousin.
“Your brother lost his temper,” Farn said in his inimitable, laconic style.
Jaresh did a double take. “Really? Everyone keeps going on and on about his patience, like he's some sort of latter-day Maha Sidtha.”
“Don't you have some accounts to receive?” Rukh asked, annoyed by his brother's overly chipper manner.
“Those would be accounts payable, and they've already been paid,” Jaresh corrected in a pedantic tone. “So what did the Trims do?”
“They're just filled with all sorts of idiotic ideas,” Rukh answered. “Speaking of. What brings you out here?”
Jaresh smirked. “Droll,” he said. “Durmer just finished running me and Bree through our paces when Nanna told me to bring you home.”
Rukh nodded, understanding what Jaresh meant about Durmer. Ever since the Kesarins—Aia, Shon, and Thrum—had given Jaresh the Talents of a Kumma, he had been training hard under the Great Duriah's tutelage to master his new abilities. Joining him in his practice was Bree.
The last time Rukh had watched them spar, he'd been surprised by how far their sister had come. There were times when she was able to hold her own against Jaresh. Of course her ability to stand against their brother wasn't because of perfect form or technique on her part—in fact, she was relatively raw in the use of a sword—but because she was just that much faster. Just like Rukh couldn't Blend as well as a Muran or a Rahail or Heal like a Shiyen, Jaresh, though he was now much swifter and stronger than most people, still didn't have the speed, endurance, and strength of a Kumma. Most of the time, his excellent technique and form were enough to overcome Bree's advantages, but not always. Her quickness was an undeniable advantage.
“Did Nanna say what he wanted?” Rukh asked.
Jaresh shook his head. “No. But I imagine it has to do with finding the final MalDin.”
Rukh grunted in disgust. After Ular Sathin had killed himself, his position as a MalDin of the Sil Lor Kum had come to light. It was still hard to believe. Ular had been both a highly respected Muran—a member of the Society of Rajan, no less—but also the worst kind of scum. How had he managed it? How could any man, evil or otherwise, have so proficiently and consistently betrayed everyone who loved and knew him? Rukh couldn't imagine the self-deception and discipline required to have lived Ular's life of lies.
Regardless, after the man's death, his journal—the one describing his role as a MalDin—had come into Nanna's possession. It had been anonymously mailed to him, and after the code in which it had been written had been deciphered, the Sil Lor Kum had been eradicated. All except for the MalDin representing Caste Duriah, and maybe a few lower-ranking members of the so-called 'Hidden Hand of Justice'.
“What does Nanna want me to do?” Rukh asked.
“He wasn't the one who actually asked for you,” Jaresh said. “Bree asked him to ask you—”
“I thought she had her hands full helping out the OutCastes?” Farn interrupted.
“After the contract Bree was able to hammer out on their behalf with Clan Weathervine, they don't really need her assistance any more,” Jaresh explained. “Nanna wants her to help the City Watch find the final MalDin and the rest of the Sil Lor Kum.” He tu
rned to Rukh. “And Bree wants your help.”
“Why? What does she think I can do that she can't?”
“Nothing,” Jaresh replied. “It's more about Rector Bryce. Nanna asked for his help in finding the rest of the Sil Lor Kum, and when Bree found out who she would have to work with, she said the only person who could keep her from hurting Rector was you.”
Rukh snorted. “So she expects me to protect Rector from her?”
Jaresh grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “She says that while others could stop her from hurting Rector, she thinks you're the only one with the skill to do so without killing her in the process.” He laughed. “She must really hate him.”
Farn chuckled. “She still hasn't forgiven him?”
“I guess not,” Rukh said.
“But you have?” Farn asked.
Rukh shrugged. “He was a large part of the reason why I was exiled from Ashoka, but I also remember what he did for Jessira at the Magisterium. After the Magisterium, it wasn't too hard to forgive him.”
Farn shook his head. “Not for me. I'd still want to smash his face into the pavement.”
Rukh smiled, thinking of something Jessira had once told him. 'You aren't a man made to hate,' she had said.
“I thought you were the one who thought first and fought second,” Jaresh said to Farn.
“I guess your stupidity is rubbing off on me,” their cousin replied.
“If it's my stupidity rubbing off on you, then you're still gaining in intelligence,” Jaresh countered.
“So you're saying that even at your stupidest, you're smarter than me?” Farn said with a scoffing snort. “You must have bathed in an open sewer because I smell bilge water.”
“Well you'd know that fragrance better than anyone,” Jaresh said before turning to Rukh. “And just what exactly are you smiling about?”
Rukh coughed into his hand, not wanting to admit the truth. It would only set the other two men laughing. To hear them talk, they seemed to think that Rukh believed that the sun rose and set based on Jessira's presence. “I was just thinking how it's nice to be home and hear the two of you bicker,” Rukh lied. “I missed it when I was in Stronghold.”
“You had a look on your face just then,” Jaresh noted, sounding skeptical. His eyes narrowed.
Rukh mentally groaned. “What look?” he asked, trying to keep his features placid and curious rather than guilty.
Jaresh's eyes widened. “You were thinking about Jessira!” He burst into laughter.
“No I wasn't!” Rukh exclaimed.
“Yes, you were,” Farn said, joining in Jaresh's laughter.
Rukh sighed. “Why don't we get back on topic?” he suggested.
“You mean you don't want to tell us about the wonderful qualities your wife possesses?” Farn asked with a straitlaced, innocent expression.
“Or maybe we can talk about Laya?” Rukh said, giving his cousin a challenging stare.
Now it was Farn's turn to smother a cough. “So why can't Bree forgive Rector?” he asked in an obvious attempt to change the subject.
Jaresh took a moment to glance between the two men and mutter something about OutCaste women under his breath. Rukh couldn't quite make it out. “I'm not sure why Bree still dislikes Rector so much. I mean, Rukh has already forgiven the man, and I would guess Nanna has as well since he's willing to entrust him with this.”
Rukh smiled. “Our sister is a complicated woman.”
“Hating someone isn't complicated,” Jaresh observed.
Rukh shook his head at his brother's lack of insight. “Bree doesn't hate Rector. She hates how she misjudged him, and now, she isn't sure if she's doing so again with her mistrust.”
“It's a conundrum,” Farn agreed.
Aia was laid out on her back with her hind limbs stretched out behind her and her front ones tucked up so her paws were under her chin. From her current position, in the distance she could see a row of tall homes made of red brick and cold, dead wood. She sniffed at the sight. There was no beauty to the hard-edged straight lines and stiff stones that made up the city of Ashoka. Even the occasional edging of grass and trees dividing the roads wasn't enough to soften this Human hive of rugged rocks, noxious noises, and strong smells.
She turned away from the view and let her gaze linger upon the place where she was to meet her Human, Rukh. They always met here. This was one of the few places in Rukh's home where she truly felt comfortable. The fields between the city's massive walls would have been fine, but for some reason, the Humans who dug up the land there—farmers were what Rukh called them—always seemed to take offense whenever Aia or her brothers decided to show up and roll about on the ground or dig in the dirt. They would yell and shout, running about and gesticulating wildly like fearful ostriches. It was most annoying. Some even flung dirt at them like a monkey hurling feces.
Aia snorted. How typical. Humans did look a little like monkeys, so maybe it was only natural that they would act like them as well.
Of course back home, if a monkey—or any other animal—had dared disrespect her, Aia would have made sure they never repeated the error. She had been tempted to teach an unforgettable lesson to the rude Human monkeys who had thrown dirt at her, but Rukh had told her in no uncertain terms that harming one of his kind was prohibited. Aia snorted at the thought. She wouldn't have actually hurt any of them. She would have only pretended to, just enough to get the pesky Humans to leave her alone.
Aia sighed. Rukh would probably still have been mad at her.
She set aside her annoyance with her Human and returned to studying this place Rukh had found for her. Dryad Park was what he named it. It was so quiet and subdued here, at least in comparison to the riot that was the rest of Ashoka. In some ways, it even reminded Aia of her own home.
Rolling hills of grass and wildflowers cupped blue lakes and ponds full of delectable, fat fish. And while Aia knew just how succulent those scaled beasties were, once again, Rukh insisted on ruining her fun. He wouldn't let her splash about and try her paws at catching the slippery fish. He said she'd only scare them away.
What foolishness. Fish had no minds by which to feel fear. And they were so delicious.
Aia frowned, a flattening of her ears, wishing Rukh could see reason. But he had been steadfast in his refusal.
Once again, Aia set aside her annoyance.
Instead, she glanced at a number of old Humans as they moved rocks of various shapes about on strange, flat piece of wood made of colored squares. What were they doing that was so fascinating? There they sat beneath the arms of a small grouping of oak trees, as still and unmoving as Human-shaped boulders. It looked so pointless. Rukh said it was a game called 'chess', but Aia wasn't sure if he was playing a trick on her.
Kesarin games relied on running, hiding, leaping, and rolling, not staring at pieces of rock and moving them fractionally every few minutes.
Stupidity. Not to mention boring.
Aia then turned her sight to a group of large globes of various colors hanging from the branches of the oaks. She smiled. Finally, a Human creation that made sense. She loved the firefly globes. They were so beautiful, hypnotic even, especially when they waved in the breeze and spooled out bright pinpricks of moving light and shadow. It was like something alive then. Shon and Thrum loved to chase those pinpoints, racing after them, all along the ground and even leaping into the trees. Aia, on the other hand, maintained a dignified air while her brothers played their silly games.
But when her brothers weren't around, she, too, would chase the light and shadows. It was so much fun.
Aia settled herself deeper into the warm ground, lost in pleasant memories.
A cloud passed above her, and she wondered why the sky was blue. Was it like the nearby sea, but instead of washing about on the ground, was it water floating high above the world? It made sense. After all, where else could rain come from?
Aia mentally shuddered. She loved swimming, but for some reason, she hated the rain.
It was a miserable experience, and just imagining the water falling on her head was enough to make her whiskers wilt in imagined melancholy.
*Sister, why are you sad?* Shon asked, coming up to her and touching her nose with his before he licked the side of her face.
*Rain.*
Shon pulled up short in startlement. *Where?* he asked in consternation.
Aia laughed. She reached up and grasped her brother's head in her paws. She kept her claws sheathed as she pulled him down until he flopped next to her. He lay beside her, and she groomed the top of his head.
The affection Aia felt for her youngest brother sometimes surprised her. After all, she hadn't always liked Shon, but in the past year, he had grown, not just in size—he was bigger than Aia now and almost as big as Thrum—but also in wisdom. He was no longer the sun-addled pest she had to continually bat on the nose for his silly behavior. It was entirely unexpected, especially since his older brother, Thrum, was still prone to foolishness like galloping about and trying to catch snow in his mouth.
Aia wondered what had caused Shon to change in the ways he had.
Perhaps it was through the influence of Jessira, his Human. She was Rukh's mate—his wife as Humans called things—which meant she had to be someone special. Aia couldn't imagine Rukh settling for anyone ordinary of wit and wisdom. In addition, Jessira was female, and as everyone knew, males were improved through their association with a female.
*Why were you sad?* Shon asked again.
Aia yawned and rolled to her side. *Why is the sky blue?* she asked. *Is it because the heavens are like the sea? Are they full of water, and rain falls when it slips free of the clouds?*
Shon sat on his hindquarters and tilted his head in thought. *Or maybe the heavens reflect the water.*
*Then why don't they reflect the mountains and the grass?* Aia challenged.
Shon shrugged. *Do you suppose our Humans could tell us?* he asked.
Aia snorted. *Humans don't know everything,* she said. *They only act like they do.*
*Not mine,* Shon disagreed. *Jessira is sensible enough to admit when she doesn't know something.*
