Gift of Gold (The Year of Churning Bloods)

by Leone, Hudson

  After a while, the kids around the table began to reply one by one. Most had only been here for two or three years however the oldest looking kid eventually said four. “Alright erm... What are your names?” I asked, hoping that this would be the last of the small talk.

  “Adam, Igor, Luka, Nestor, Pasha, Robert, Vadam, Vanya!” they each responded in rapid succession. I desperately tried to keep their names in my head, however within seconds I had forgotten them all. The oldest of the lot stepped forward and firmly took my hand.

  “Sebastian,” he said, furiously shaking my arm. Looking at Sebastian, one might not have expected much. He had a brutish face and a shaved scalp lined with the ends of coarse hairs beginning to bud. Yet despite these apparent setbacks, he managed to pull off a good natured smile, which warmed the entire room.

  “Jacob,” I responded, now feeling as though my limb had been twisted off.

  “You were in the forest weren’t you? What was it like?” the red headed one in the crowd asked, rushing up to my side.

  “He only just got out! How do you know he’s not traumatized by the things he saw?” another kid responded quickly cutting him off.

  “I’m not traumatized,” I insisted, half lying. The redhead smiled triumphantly at the other one.

  “See! He’s not traumatized! That means he can tell us what happened!” he exclaimed eagerly. The other one shook his head.

  “But do you honestly want to know what’s in that forest?” the blue eyed one countered. More bickering suddenly broke out. I wondered how these trainees ever managed to decide on anything. I tapped Sebastian on the shoulder and took him aside.

  “Do these arguments always happens?” I asked warily. Sebastian responded only with a goofy grin and a half-shrug.

  “C’mon Jacob. Let me show you to your room.” After awkwardly grabbing my belongings, I stumbled after Sebastian and braced myself for the worst. Sebastian lead me through a plain hallway before gesturing to the fifth door on the left and opening it with a flourish. A small bed with a colourful patchwork quilt made up the majority of the room. Beside that was a modestly sized window which overlooked the school gardens, dancing in the early evening light. Much to my surprise, there was even a multi-purpose desk pressed up against the far wall, along with a wardrobe and armour rack. I strolled to the desk and examined the books on its shelves, pleased to see many I hadn’t read yet.

  “So these rooms all belong to the tier one two and three trainees?” I asked, slowly spinning on the spot.

  “Yep!” Sebastian said proudly. “All Pronounced, Emphasized and Bellowed trainees stay here.”

  “Why aren’t there any Emphasised or Bellowed trainees in the distortion quarters then?” I wondered, sitting on my mattress to test its softness. Sebastian shrugged.

  “All of them got promoted I think. There were a couple tier two trainees in here for a while, but they became prefects at tier three, and were allowed to stay in the prefect quarters.”

  “What do prefects even do?” I asked, suddenly remembering that Gregor called himself one Sebastian’s face darkened.

  “They act like extra eyes for the Grimlars and enforce all of the minor punishments within the camp.” Sebastian shivered slightly, before diverting his attention to the rest of the room. “What do you think huh? Do you think you’re going to like it here?” he asked uncertainly.

  “You know what? I think I will,” I replied, smiling just a little. Sebastian pumped his fist, but noticing my gaze, tried to make it look like he was only propping an ebow up against the wall.

  “Let’s get to dinner aye?” he asked, obviously eager to change the subject. As the ten distortion trainees including myself all bustled down to the dining hall, I couldn’t help but worry what the formalities would be like. In The Clog I had heard rumors that there were special places you had to put your forks and five different plates which you had to fill with different food. Stepping into the dining hall however, I felt a strange wave of relief pass over me as I saw it was just as chaotic as the canteen in The Clog. Plates of food were dropped down from passing-by people, only for packs of hungry trainees to frantically scoop what they could from the other prying hands. I stole a large section of a honey roasted ham and a couple of rolls before sitting down and launching into my plate. I was so concentrated on my food, I almost didn’t realize who had decided to sit next to me.

  “Preston!” My voice quivered with mirth as I tried to shout over the commotion of the feast. I put my arm over him and took his bony body into a tight side embrace. “Gods are you alright?” I asked with a degree of mock concern. “You look just as skinny as you were three days ago.” Preston smiled mildly, unsure if I was joking or not.

  “I’m fine Jacob,” he assured me. “I just need to make sure that you’re okay,” he added under his breath.

  “Why wouldn’t I be alright?” I asked with a mouth full of food.

  Preston raised a single eyebrow. “Well for one, you almost got killed by the gauntlet,” he said, counting on his fingers. “Two, there are rumors that say you held Gregor back from promoting and finally, you apparently managed to show-up the Caterwaul with your anti-magic.” Preston tried to laugh, but could only muster a nervous wheeze. “These rumors can’t be true... Can they?

  My lack of a response seemed to answer his question very clearly. I took a sip from a nearby goblet and began to explain.

  “It wasn’t entirely my fault. Gregor tried many times to look into my thoughts even though he was warned by the Caterwaul to leave me alone. I was only defending myself.” Preston stared in disbelief.

  “Why did he want to look into your thoughts so badly?” he asked, ignoring the fact that someone had just stolen his plate full of food.

  “He thought I had cheated,” I replied, instinctively handing Preston one of my bread rolls. He accepted it, but didn’t eat it.

  “Did you though?” he wondered as he gazed deeply into my eyes. The proficiency of his stare was quite unsettling.

  “Did I what?”

  “Did you... cheat?” Preston asked, mouthing the last word soundlessly.

  “No!” I said instinctively. “Well, I mean... No.” I insisted for a second time. In my mind, it never really felt like I had cheated. It was Professor Wenchenberg that had given me the dragon soul. I only drank it because I had no other option. That was bending the rules, not breaking them. It was the professor that cheated. I didn’t have any choice. “Look, I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I told him after slamming down the last bit of liquid in my glass. Preston didn’t move right away. He just kept staring at me in that same unsettling way.

  “Alright,” he conceded, finally breaking eye contact. “Just stay safe,” He hastily pocketed the roll I gave him and slipped out of the dining hall, leaving me to wonder how bad the situation really was.

  ***

  It was couple of hours later and and all the distortion trainees sat huddled together in the freezing common room. For a while I ignored this and simply sat in my bed reading my new books. As time passed, the sound of them shivering grew louder and louder until finally, I forced myself up and out of my room see what the problem was.

  “Why don’t you light a fire?” I asked them dubiously. Sebastian pointed to the fireplace, which was crammed full of books. I raised an eyebrow. “Why did you put the books in the fireplace?” I asked patiently.

  “There’s no more room in the bookshelves, and we can’t leave them on the floor cause we keep tripping on ‘em,” the boy with the bulbous nose responded, jiggling his arms together for extra warmth.

  “There’s plenty of room in the bookcases!” I insisted loudly. “You’ve just put them in wrong. Here I’ll show you!” I took the top most shelf of the books, and rearranged them as they should have been. Now that they had the room to squeeze in a couple more, I dashed to the frigid hearth and took four of the largest books. As I slotted them with ease into the bookcase, the trainees all stared in amazement.

  �
�How did you do that?” one of the smaller ones asked, pointing in disbelief.

  “The magic of organization,” I said grandly. They all stared at me dubiously.

  “That’s not a magic!”

  “What kind of power is that?”

  “Can I try?”

  “Yeah!” I said, suddenly feeling confidence swell up within me. “And with little practice, you too can become a master at this sophisticated art!”

  “This is how you decide to spend your evening?” Umber asked, completely disgusted with me. “Trying to convince children to clean their living space?”

  “Shut up,” I thought to him. “It’s working.” Sure enough, some of the younger ones began curiously rearranging the various objects on the shelves. A couple of them gasped in awe when they saw just how much more space there was than they had originally thought. Cautiously, the older ones began to follow suit. Within fifteen minutes the fireplace had been completely cleared. A great many whoops of joy were exchanged and a few of the kids began to disperse. “Wait!” I commanded. “Don’t you want a really warm fire?”

  “We don’t know how to light a fire and we don’t have any firewood,” the blue eyed one stated morbidly.

  “Well have you checked the storage hold?” I asked before gesturing down the hall.

  “We have a storage hold?” Another trainee asked uncertainly. I laughed loudly.

  “Yeah actually, It’s just next to my room. Take a look.” We all ran to the room I had described and sure enough, there were three large baskets of firewood inside. “Does anybody see any flint and kindling?” I asked, opening up some of the chests that littered the floors.

  “What are those?” A couple of the trainees asked from behind me. I sighed and tilted my head to one side.

  “Well flint is a strange rock which sparks if it makes contact with metal-and don’t ask! I have no idea how it works,” I proclaimed, biting off their next few questions. “Kindling is a very dry material which burns quite easily. It may be scrap paper, or even some dead leaves.”

  “Excuse me, but will this do?” The redhead asked before presenting me with some flaky hay. I examined it briefly and let it run through my fingers. I nodded and turned to Sebastian.

  “Organize a group of boys to pick up the rubbish in the common room. Tell them to move the furniture off the carpet so that it can be cleaned.” Much to my embarrassment, Sebastian gave a fierce salute before rallying up six of the trainees. Taking a deep breath, I asked the two remaining boys to follow me to the fire. “You look like you’re brothers,” I commented while fiercely trying to remember their names.

  “Cousins actually,” the one on the right said. “If you’ve forgotten, my name is Vadam.” I thanked him quickly before moving onto his cousin.

  “And you’re Vanya?” I asked uncertainly. He nodded and I sighed in relief.

  “That shouldn’t be too hard to remember,” I thought to myself lightly. “All right Vadam and Vanya, come over here and we’ll try to start a fire. I grabbed some thin twigs and snapped them apart before setting up a crude little hut. I filled it full of hay and set to work with the flint. Every strike I made sent a flurry of bright sparks downward, however the fleeting specks of warmth never stayed long enough to ignite the hay before me. Seeing how tired my arms were getting, I bashfully passed the flint off to Vanya, who seemed to have much better luck. A small glowing morsel of a spark landed on the hay, and sat there quite patiently.

  “Give it some wind!” I instructed eagerly. Taking my instructions to heart, Vanya pumped up his lungs and expelled a breath unlike anything I had ever seen a ten year old do. “Maybe a bit less next time,” I cautioned before reassembling the knocked over stick hut. The next time when Vanya managed to get a spark to land, Vadam went over and very carefully began to whisper to the flame. The hay caught fire, and we all cheered loudly. Once the twigs had ignited, I showed them how to place proper logs in the fire, to keep it going.

  Confident they were now capable of keeping the fire alive, I strolled over to Sebastian to see how his work was going. Judging by the fact that of the furniture had suddenly vanished, along with the trash on the floor, it seemed to me like he had done his job well.

  “What next sir?” He asked as he jumped to attention. I very nearly swallowed my tongue at these words. For years, ‘sir’ was a title which I was made to address my superiors by. As I looked over the bright face of Sebastian, I didn’t look over a child. I looked at an equal.

  “Sir is a title which either the mighty deserve or the weak demand. I’m neither of those people Sebastian, so as long as I’m under this roof, you will call me Jacob,” I said in a serious voice. Sebastian looked me at oddly but after a moment, the fire reignited in his eyes.

  “Yes Jacob,” he said, smothering himself into a tangled grin.

  “I fail to see what you want to get out of this,” Umber pouted from a comfortable nook in my thoughts. “Do you wish to use these children as your servants?”

  I shook my head. “These trainees have have been bossed around enough,” I explained quietly. “It’s about time someone taught them how to get things done by themselves.” Umber closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

  “Your silly little self-righteous thoughts do you no good Jacob. You need to focus only on yourself for as long as it takes. Furthermore, what independance could possibly come from teaching these little runts how to clean?” Umber demanded, pointedly moving into my line of sight.

  “I’ve learned from Professor Wenchenberg that even the simple actions of kindness and respect can make all the difference,” I replied calmly.

  “You really are the biggest idiot that I’ve ever met,” Umber jeered. “You want to free everyone from this camp and yet you only help with the small unimportant things that get you no closer to your goal.”

  “Yet from the two of us here, I’m the one in command. And if the one in command says that these trainees will have a role model who respects them, then I’ll make it happen,” I stated before swatting Umber away.

  The floors, now clear of all debris and dirt held up many clean chairs and tables which were free of rubbish. The only source of light in the comfortable area, was an enormous fire which slowly chipped away the cold in the room. The sounds and sights in this enclosure were unrecognizable from the scene two hours ago. The clattering of cold jaws was replaced with the happy chatter of the trainees. The disgusting mounds of this and that had been neatly shoveled away, revealing beautiful rugs below the bare feet of the pronounced trainees. I took a deep breath of air and smiled as I realized the room no longer stank.

  “Thank you Jacob,” Sebastian said quietly. This was repeated many times throughout the night, as each trainee excitedly made a comment about what fun it was to have an actual fire, or to be able to scurry around the room without fear of tripping over anything.

  “We can do this every night if you want,” I said before throwing a crumpled sheet of paper in the fire. The trainees around me all voiced their agreements:

  “Can we really?!”

  “Look at me! I’m Jacob! Elder Grimlar in Organization anti-magic!

  “I wonder what else could be in that storage room?”

  Without any concern or care left in the world, I slowly drifted off to sleep and didn’t even bother to carry myself to my own bed.

  Chapter eight

  Dragons and Heroes

  Doeth a leader lead by making mead

  Throwing beads or giving cheese?

  Nay, to lead you must begin at last

  Moving through the ranks quite fast

  A marching drum of footsteps come

  and the leaders know their job’s begun

  “The distortion trainees did what!?” Professor Wenchenberg exclaimed, standing up from his office desk. The indecisive weather outside suggested a fair amount of rain which the Professor had graciously sheltered me from. I bustled about the room with a rag, dusting the various shelves while explaining my first impressions of th
e school to the professor.

  “They cleaned their common room.” I proudly repeated for the second time. The Professor seemed to be at a complete loss for words.

  “I’ve tried to get them to clean that pigsty up for years. It’s unbelievable that you can just waltz in on your first day and take command like that.”

  My cheeks turned scarlet, however the professor didn’t seem to notice.

  “Perhaps it’s all for the best though,” he continued. “It’s good that you’re gaining followers.”

  “Yeah but, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to remember their names.” I admitted without a great deal of enthusiasm.

  “In my age, it’s a wonder that I still can,” he said, scrunching his face up in deep focus. “There’s Sebastian, Adam, Igor, Luka, Pasha, Robert, Vadam, Vanya.” He suddenly froze. “Oh no! I’ve forgotten one!” Professor Wenchenberg groaned, pounding a clenched fist on his desk. He began to grumble to himself, desperately trying to remember which trainee he had left out. “Argh! I remember his face but not his name!”