by Kody Boye
“My hand,” Odin whispered. “I… the blood… you—”
“Do not worry. I am not vulnerable in my current state.”
Despite the beauty and the power that exuded from this creature as if it were sweat pooling forth from a working man’s brow, he did seem to have a weakness—that being within his weak, ‘bad’ blood. In a way, it made Odin feel as though the two of them were on stable ground, rather than one of them standing at the foot of a mountain and the other at its highest peak, and therefore allowed him some form of comfort regardless of how incomparable the two of them were.
“I’m sorry,” Miko said, blinking, as if realizing his stare for far too long. “I am not human, so you’ll find I don’t require the things you do.”
“Like what?”
“Blinking, for one. Was that not what you were just frowning about?”
Odin shook his head. “I don’t mean to be rude. It’s just… you’re so different.”
“It’s perfectly fine.” Miko set a hand on Odin’s chest. “Lie down. You shouldn’t be sitting up.”
“I’m fine, sir. Really, I—”
“Do as he says, Odin.”
Odin turned his head up to look at Jordan—whom, until that moment, he’d forgotten had been in the room. With that said, however, he settled back onto the mattress and took a deep breath.
“Master Jordan,” the Elf said, rising from his crouched position. “I do not like the situation he’s in.”
“Neither do I, but as I’ve told you before: the committee believes it would be best for the safety of his peers and those within the castle that he be under surveillance.”
“No one is watching him. Your guards stand outside an iron door, your people walk the streets ignorant, your king sleeps behind a door before which a multitude of armed men stand—what is your king or his committee accomplishing when they know not what this young man is doing?”
“I—”
“I want him, Master Jordan. I want this young man to be my squire.”
“Sir!” Odin started, attempting to rise, but unable to do so when his father set a hand on his shoulder to hold him in place. “Are you… are you a knight?”
“No,” the Elf said. “I am not.”
“The thing is,” Jordan began, “that given your preferential treatment in regards to your abilities, one may not consider it necessary that the person you train under or serve beneath be royal or even a knight in general. Though it is custom, and preferred, a squire may serve under a nobleman or a figure equaling that status, but in your case, you are a mage and a commoner, and therefore must seek out the best opportunity possible to train your abilities.”
“I have no status except that as a wanderer,” Miko added. “However, given the bylines within your kingdom’s history and the circumstance in which past knights of magical value have been trained, it would be arrogant for you not to serve someone who understands magic.”
“You’re… a mage?” Odin asked.
“All Elves are born mages, my friend.”
“You’d really do that for me?” Odin asked, hoping in his heart, mind and soul that the Elf’s words had not truly been lies. “I’m nothing special.”
“Do you really believe you are not special?” Miko asked.
“I…” Odin paused. “Yes.”
“It pains me to know that a young man in the prime of his life has lost so much of his confidence.”
“Sir?”
“Jordan,” Miko said, turning his attention to the weapons master beside him. “When night falls, I’d like my squire to be escorted to my room and any of his personal belongings delivered there along with my own. I will not, under any circumstance, allow him to remain in this tower, and if need be, I’ll leave the castle if the king’s committee finds this ‘inappropriate.’”
Stooping to gather his guise, Miko retrieved the cloak and the gloves, pulled and secured them onto his body, then slid the hood over his face to hide his true self. “I look forward to speaking with you further,” the Elf said, wrapping his fingers around the entryway’s iron bar. “Thank you for allowing me to meet you. It has been an honor.”
Before the Elf could leave, Odin bowed his head.
Just as the creature walked out of the tower, Odin thought he caught a smile on Miko’s lips.
“Do you approve of him, Father?”
Ectris looked up. From his position near the window—where he’d been sitting for the past little while, gazing at the world outside and its happenings—he seemed placid and content with the situation as a whole, but gave no confirmation on just whether or not he cared for the Elf or just what he had to offer. Since both Miko and Jordan’s flight, he seemed all the less sure—content, yes, but definitely not sure. “To tell you the truth,” his father said, speaking for the first time in what Odin felt was ages, “I… do. In a strange, twisted sort of way.”
“You promise?”
“I wouldn’t have let him come near you had I thought he was going to hurt you.”
“You drew your knife on him.”
Ectris chose not to reply. Instead, he set a hand on his forehead, sighed, then let it fall to his thigh, where it remained there for several long moments before it was placed against his breast. “I was afraid of him, son.”
“You’re afraid of a lot of things,” Odin replied, looking down at his hands.
“You’re right. I am.” In but a few swift motions, Ectris crossed the room, took Odin’s face in his hands, then turned it up so they could look each other directly in the eyes. “I was afraid of your magic,” he said, “and to tell you the truth, I still am. You know what helps me get over that fear though?”
“What?”
“Knowing that you’ve had someone help you with it.”
“I could’ve hurt you on accident.”
“Which is why I feel safer around you now, son. There’s… there’s been a part of me that’s been afraid of you ever since I saw you blow up that practice dummy. There were times when you were little when I was afraid to come near you after you got angry or upset because I was convinced that your emotions would backfire and you would hurt or kill one of us.”
“Is that why you left the tent after you hit me, before I ran away?”
“Yes,” Ectris said, guilt washing his face in pale, somber tones. “That’s exactly why I left.”
“I never wanted to hurt you, sir. I… I just didn’t want my future to go to waste.”
“I wouldn’t have turned you back. You should know that.”
“I started to understand that after I left, but… well… I wasn’t too sure.”
Odin pulled his face away from both his father’s hand and gaze. As always, his eyes strayed to the sheet, where he found his fingers tangled within the fabric’s folds, and tried not to look at the man who raised him. However, as impossible as that was, he found himself able to at least retain some form of anonymity, despite the closeness the two of them shared.
“Look at you,” Ectris said, setting a hand on his arm. “You’ve grown up so much in the past two years.”
“I don’t feel like it.”
“It’s because you’ve been away from people for so long, son. You fail to see what’s happened to you.”
“I’ve been locked in a tower.”
“But you’ve grown up as well. Your muscles have come in—by God, you don’t even look like the scrawny little boy I could barely put a pound on growing up—and you lost the baby fat in your face. You’ve matured into the young man that’s sitting in front of me. You have nothing to worry about, Odin, because I’m damn proud of who you’ve become and what you’re going to become after you leave here on your own.”
“I have your blessing?” Odin asked, turning his head up. “You’ll let me go with him even though he’s not the most normal person in the world?”
“I wouldn’t keep you from your heart’s desire,” Ectris said. “Yes, son—you have my blessing.”
That night, after the
dinner bell rang and from all sides of the castle the pages, squires and even the knights came, Jordan entered the tower and beckoned Odin forward. “Are you ready to start your time as a squire?” the weapons master asked.
“Yes sir,” Odin said, haphazardly adjusting his jerkin acorss his shoulders. “I am.”
“Good. The Elf’s been waiting for you.”
“He has?”
“Oh yes. I’ve been talking to him for a good few hours now, telling him just all you can do and what I think you’re capable of. He’d like to know more about the magic you’ve been practicing.
“Really?”
Jordan nodded. Even a smile, as seldom and rare with this man as it was, crossed his face, brightening his demeanor considerably despite the lack of lighting that currently existed within the room.
“Go on, son,” Ectris said, patting his shoulder.
“Aren’t you coming?” Odin frowned.
“I’ll leave this meeting up to you.”
“But if I’m staying with him, where will you—”
“I’ll make sure your father has proper accommodations,” Jordan said. “Would you like to stay here for now, Mr. Karussa? I can come back for you, if you’d like.”
“I’ll stay here.”
Turning, Odin stepped up to his father, wrapped his arms around his chest, and bowed his head into his shoulder.
“What’s this for?” Ectri asked, setting his hands on Odin’s shoulders.
“Because I love you,” Odin said, moving back to look at his father. “I just wanted you to know that.”
“I know, son.”
Ectris leaned forward, ready to capture Odin in another hug. Before the man could wrap his arms around him, however, Odin pressed a slight kiss to his cheek.
“Thank you,” Ectris whispered, so softly that only Odin could hear.
Odin squeezed his father’s hand one last time before allowing Jordan to open the door.
“Am I going to be all right?” Odin asked after the guards fell into place behind the two of them.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean… about the committee and me getting out of the tower.”
“Oh. That.” Jordan paused in midstride, looked to the setting sun in the distance, then shook his head. “You’ve been released based on the fact that you’ve become an apprentice to a magician.”
“Magician?” Odin laughed. “Do they still use those kinds of words?”
“Have been since the beginning of time, son.”
“What about my sword?”
“You mean the one that’s kept you up here all these years?” the weapons master asked. “It’s been returned to you.”
“So there was no issue with that?”
“There’s armed guards everywhere, Odin. It’s not like you’ll get far if you decide to go rampaging through the streets.”
Not that there’s any need to, he thought, all the more content with the knowledge that he was now out of the tower and free from his earthly binds.
They continued on throughout the walls upper passes before they stepped into the stairwell and began to descend into the main part of the castle. Once there, they walked, guided by torchlight, through a series of halls Odin recognized as the public housing institutions given to those who lived within the castle for brief or long periods of time. Jordan continued to lead them through the corridors until they descended another flight of stairs, during which time they broke out near the outer edges of the first floor until they came to the solitary wall that blanketed the southern side of the castle.
“His room is this way,” Jordan said.
“I haven’t been here in so long,” Odin said, awing over the locations around him. “Sir… do I need to worry about running into anyone? I mean, like—”
“Mister Monvich.”
Odin blinked. How long had it been since he thought of that name?
Far too long, he thought, only mustering up the urge to speak when Jordan smirked and cleared any solidity of the situation whatsoever. “Sir?”
“You do remember Herald, right?”
“Well, yes. I do.”
“Are you worried about running into him?”
“No.”
“Then why ask the question?”
“I’m… not sure. I… I guess I’m just nervous.”
“Nervous or not, you have nothing to worry about. You’re almost an adult, Odin—you’ll learn to find your own place in the world sooner rather than later.”
“Yes sir.”
When the end of the corridor came into sight and it seemed they could continue no further, Jordan halted their advance and motioned to the door in front of them. “This is where your master is saying,” he said. “I want you to know something before you enter this room, though, just to make sure you’ve heard it from an outside source.”
“Yes sir.”
“As he’s said, don’t let his behavior frighten you. He means you no harm.”
“I understand.”
“He’s told me to tell you that if he does something that makes you uncomfortable to tell him about it. He hasn’t been around humans for some time.”
“Where did he come from?” Odin asked. “I know it’s impolite to ask, but he… he said he was a wanderer.”
“Which is exactly what he told me,” Jordan said. “He’s also requested I tell you to ask questions, even if you think they seem impolite.”
“I don’t want to offend him.”
“No, but it will offend him even more if he finds you’re withholding something.”
“Can he—”
Is that even appropriate to ask?
To think that the Elf could see beyond the physical barriers of a person and into the thoughts and feelings of those around him was not that big of stretch. It was told, in legend, that Elves possessed uncanny powers of the mind, heart and soul, and knew of things from the earliest memories of childhood that even the oldest of human men did not know. To feel awkward about such a thing seemed unnecessary, for he had nothing to hide and even more to give, but to know that something or someone could just read his thoughts at any time wasn’t exactly the most comfortable feeling.
“Can he… what?” Jordan asked.
“Never mind,” Odin said. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Go on in,” the weapons master said. “He’s waiting for you.”
“Thank you for bringing me, sir.”
“Not a problem.”
Odin bowed his head. Thankfully, his smile was hidden from sight when Jordan reached out to clap his shoulder, as it gave too much of his own personal thoughts away, but he was able to watch the man walk off until he turned down the hall and disappeared from sight.
All right, he thought, looking up and at the door. Here goes nothing.
Raising his hand, he knocked on the door with his knuckles and hoped that he hadn’t made too much noise.
Does it bother them to hear such loud noises?
Before he could entertain the thought any further, a voice spoke to him from the other side of the doorway. “Come in,” it said.
After taking a deep breath, Odin grasped the doorknob and pushed the door open.
Miko rose from his place on the floor to greet him with a single nod.
“Hello sir,” Odin said, making sure the door had shut behind him before turning to face the Elf.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Odin.”
Miko offered his hand palm up. Like before, Odin set his hand atop his newly-acquainted knight master’s hand. It took but a moment for him to realize how gargantuan this creature was than him, since the entirety of his hand only just barely fit in Miko’s palm.
“This is the traditional greeting amongst Elves,” the Elf explained, drawing Odin from his spell of thought. “The males of our society greet one another by touching palms.”
Unsure of what to do or say, Odin merely kept his palm in place.
“The females,” Miko continued, “Are gree
ted with a bow of the head, as it’s considered inappropriate to touch another female unless she gives you permission.”
Odin said nothing.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes sir,” Odin said. “I’m sorry for being disrespectful. I just don’t know what to say.”
“You’re not being disrespectful, Odin. Please don’t think that.”
Miko broke the greeting touch and gestured him to sit near the table. Odin settled himself into the plush seat. Miko, meanwhile, remained standing.
“Aren’t you going to sit?” Odin frowned, then added, “Sir?”
He’d have to remember to address this creature as sir, at the very least. He didn’t want to be disrespectful—like earlier, when he’d said nothing after such an eloquently-worded response.
“The chairs are too small,” Miko smiled. “I’m quite all right. If I feel the need to sit, I’ll use the bed or the floor.”
Odin allowed his eyes to wander the room—where, against the wall, two beds stood, one of which had been stripped of its belongings and now lay on the floor directly beneath the window.
