by J. Naomi Ay
While there, I had nodded to him, sweeping carefully around his feet. He had large feet, the runners clearly straining and full of holes, especially around the toes.
I bid the stranger ‘Good day’ while he ignored me as if I wasn't there. That was alright. I wasn't there. I was just another nameless and faceless nobody to a nameless and faceless Karut, neither of us with any place better to be.
Later, when I had finished for the day, and was heading back to my home, I passed that bench again, noticing that the Karut was still there. He was leaving, or at least, he was trying to leave.
Gripping the side of the bench with one hand, his cane in the other, he laboriously pulled himself to his feet. Then, he steadied himself, a grimace of pain crossing his face. Sweat beaded at his brow. His breath came heavily, steaming in the frigid air, as he leaned on his cane, and slowly, took a step.
I watched. What should I do? Offer him my arm or my back? He was much larger than me. If he fell on me, I could be injured, and where would we go anyway? To the next bench? To the overcrowded homeless shelter three blocks away, who would reject him simply because of his race? So, I did nothing, except observe his struggle.
Something in his face seemed familiar to me though. He reminded me of the Emperor, Senya, how the man had looked during my youth, nearly four decades ago. It couldn't be him now. He was dead, or at least disappeared, and even so, he had aged. This man looked to be only a few years older than me, rather than a contemporary of Reggie.
I had seen the Emperor's pic as often as anyone else. One year on his birthday, I had stood below the Palace balconies just to catch a glimpse of the man when he came out.
Our Emperor had shining silver hair and a countenance that glowed, brilliant silver eyes, and a wry smile on his lips. I would sooner the man be dead than to discover he had remained young, especially if it meant he had become this ragged, broken tramp.
Chapter 5
Carolie
The boy was following me, I swear. As I walked towards my classroom, he passed me in the hall. When I came out again an hour later, he was leaning against the wall, right by the door.
"Hey, Sara," I called, trying not to look at the guy.
He was hot, tall and well-built with short black hair, and just a hint of mustache above his lip. Actually, he was really hot, but I certainly didn't want him to think I was interested.
"What's up, Carolie?" Sara replied, studying her cell.
She had her tablet clutched in one arm, pressed up against her chest, and was trying to read a text, while at the same time running down the hall.
"Did you see that guy?"
Sara slowed a little bit, and tossed the cell into her pocket.
"What guy?"
I glanced backward quickly. Yep, he was still there. I was about to describe him, to explain how he had been following me nonstop for at least three periods when it occurred to me that maybe he wasn't interested in me at all.
Maybe, he was really following Sara. Guys did that all day long. Sometimes, they'd try to get close to me, thinking I would introduce them to her. That's probably all it was. That's all it ever was.
"Forget it," I said.
"Who?" Now, Sara grew interested. The warning bell rang above our heads indicating that we had exactly five more minutes to get to our seats.
"I'll tell you later. See you outside in an hour."
"Whatever." Sara tossed her head and her long, glorious blonde curls, before disappearing through the door to her math class.
I shrugged, giving my own plain, brown, straight hair a tiny bounce before heading down the hall to my math class, which was Advanced Trigonometry, three levels above the normal eleventh grade curriculum.
The boy followed me in. In fact, he sat down at a desk two rows behind me. While reaching into my backpack for my tablet, I surreptitiously looked over my shoulder. He was staring at me. Then, he raised his eyebrows, and smiled a little as if he was happy to catch me in the act of looking at him.
I'm sure I blushed about ten thousand shades of red before quickly ducking my head, and pretending to prepare for the upcoming lesson. I could feel his eyes on me though. Throughout the hour, despite my best attempts to concentrate on the formulas and equations, it felt like his eyes were boring holes in my back. Afterwards, as soon as the bell rang, I bolted up from my seat and raced out the door.
Sara was standing in the hall, holding court. She always had at least five girls around her, and at least an equal number of guys. She was beautiful, and she was popular. There wasn't any question about that. It also helped that she was the Imperial Princess, even though that didn't seem like much these days.
Several years ago, when she first came to live with us, when Sam was still alive and Steve was somewhere off in space, Sara was sweet and shy. I was so excited because she was going to be like the sister I had always wanted, when instead, fate had given me the annoying brother, Rory. Sara would follow me around all day, play whatever games I wanted to play, and anything I said she'd automatically agree with.
Now that she really was my step-sister, and now that she had grown up into a teenager, obviously far surpassing me in looks and personality, I hated to admit it, but I didn't really like her.
I didn't really like her dad, Steve, either. He too was full of good looks and charm, sweeping my mom off her feet one minute, and the next, getting into a knock-down, drag-out screaming match with her. Since Steve and Sara moved in full time, I basically hid in my room whenever we were home at the manor house in Turko.
In fact, surprisingly, the only one who I could tolerate these days was that annoying brother, Rory. Maybe, that was because he reminded me a lot of Sam.
Rory was funny. He always had an odd way of looking at a situation, viewing it in a way that no matter how serious it was, he could turn it around into something hilarious. Rory didn't care much for Sara either, and that was putting it nicely. Behind her back, and when no one else was listening, he'd refer to her as Princess Bitch.
He'd refer to Steve as Prince Uncharming, too. Frankly, there wasn't anything that could be done to improve that relationship.
Rory hated Steve on account of Sam, who both of us really missed. Sam had been a great father, even though it was never a question that he wasn't really mine. He had always treated Rory and me as if we were the greatest things ever to happen to him, and neither of us ever doubted that he really thought we were.
Steve, on the other hand, always acted surprised when we were around. It was almost like we had to remind him what our names were.
Sometimes, his brother, Rent came to visit us too. That guy would stare at us as if he hadn't a clue what we were, let alone who we were. After he left, my mom would always tell us not to worry about that. Rent looked at everyone and everything that way, and maybe it was because of something wrong in his brain.
"Sara, we need to go," I said, interrupting whatever interesting and humorous story some football player guy was telling to the crowd.
All of Sara's popular girlfriends, and the other football player guys looked at me as if I had just materialized from some other planet.
Maybe, I had. Maybe, I felt so out of it here because I was one of the few humans in our school. Maybe, I just didn't belong on Rehnor, and never had, despite how many times my mom insisted we were all basically the same.
"The Empress was human," my mom always said, as if that made any difference now.
Now, all that matter was if you were Mishnese. Even being Karupta was totally uncool.
"Just a sec," Sara replied, waving her hand as if she was dismissing me. "I'll meet you outside as soon as I'm done."
I nodded and made some kind of mumbling sound, before hitching my backpack over a shoulder, and heading to the front hall. I was almost to the front doors when I noticed that kid following me again.
He was about a dozen steps behind me, and was starting to get on my nerves. I almost turned around and yelled at him. I almost made a colossal fool of myself
. What if he really wasn't following me and it was just a coincidence?
Once outside, I waited beneath a tree. It was winter then, and the tree limbs were bare. The sky was a light gray, a snow-sky, Sam used to say. I hoped it would snow. I hoped the school would be closed for days and days.
Using my backpack as a seat, I watched the parking lot where parents or, more likely, servants queued up to retrieve the day students.
Our school was an elite institution, expensive, and restricted to privileged youth, although there was a requisite number of scholarship students from Old Mishnah and Karupatani. Just about everybody had a servant, and a limo to pick them up. Sometimes, I wished we could be picked up in a normal speeder, or even take the bus home, but instead, ours always came with flags flying, and the Imperial Crest, or the Crest of Turko on the door.
I heard footsteps behind me, and assumed they belonged to Sara. Finally. She took long enough, although I'm sure it was plenty hard to ditch all the football players and popular girl hangers-on.
“Ready to go?” I asked, before turning around.
“Where?” a voice said, nearly frightening me out of my wits.
The boy was standing right beside me, staring at me with the strangest pale blue eyes. Actually, I wasn’t certain they were even blue. When he turned his head, they seemed to be exactly the color of the snow-sky.
“I wasn’t talking to you.” I felt my face heat up again. “I thought you were Sara, my step-sister.”
“This, I am clearly not,” he replied. His voice was nice, deep and confident, although there was almost a bubble of laughter in it when he spoke. Inexplicably, I felt a shiver creep down my spine. Was he mocking me? Did he think I was a fool? “You are Carolie, are you not?”
I nodded, angrily.
"How do you know my name?"
“I am Arsan,” he continued, as if I had acted thrilled to meet him. “I am a new student here. Might you be interested in showing me around?”
"What?" Did he think we were friends or did he think I was just a servant like everyone assumed I was to Sara. “You want me to show you around?”
Now, he looked around behind the tree, and behind his back as if searching for somebody else.
“I am speaking to only you as there is no one else here, and you are Carolie, are you not?” He raised his hands and smiled broadly. “You are from Earth, by way of Turko?”
“What do you want?” I demanded, planting my fists on my hips. I didn't think he was the slightest bit clever. “Are you trying to use me to get close to Sara?”
Now, it was his turn to look taken aback.
“Sara who?”
"Very funny. You know who I'm referring to."
"Alright," he conceded, holding out his hands again. "I know who is Sara and I have no interest in her. I don't like princesses, and besides that, she is far too short for me. You are tall, and far more beautiful in my opinion."
I made a snorting nose, and probably spat a little bit too.
"Give me a break," I grumbled, picking up my bag, and heaving it over my shoulder. "Thanks, but no thanks. Go google the map."
I started to walk away, but he easily kept up with me. He was tall, and took long determined strides.
"So how about you, Carolie? I will carry your bag and escort you back to your dorm, whilst you enlighten me with the glorious wonders of my new school."
He seemed sincere, and he had seemed a little lonely. As many times as I had passed him today, he was never with anyone else. It was tough being a new student. I had experienced that more often than I could count, and I knew how hard it was to be an outsider, never quite fitting in.
Glancing up at those oddly colored eyes, which now looked almost white, I tried to get a read on his motivations. He had nice eyes, beautiful in a weird way, and fringed by long, thick, black lashes. There was something about them though, that made me think no one would ever know his mind.
"Okay," I agreed, and handed over my backpack. I shoved my cold hands into my coat pockets. "Was today your first day?"
"Yes." Eagerly, he tossed my bag across his back and strode alongside me on the pebbled path which would lead to the gymnasium, and swimming pool. From there, I thought I'd show him the ballfields and stables before heading back up campus to the dorms. "I am still quite confused by so many buildings. I have never before been to a school like this."
"Are you from Karupatani?" He sort of had that look about him, and his accent was obviously not Mishnese.
"Carolie!" It was Sara insistently yelling as her feet pounded on the gravel, sending a cascade of tiny rocks into the manicured lawns. "Wait up! Where are you going?"
I ignored her. In fact, I quickened my own step. Five minutes earlier, I hadn't cared a whit for this guy, but now that Sara was coming, I was sure she was going to steal him.
"Wait up!" she screeched.
Arsan hesitated. He smiled knowingly at me before turning back to her.
"Carolie!" Now, she was getting angry. Her face was bright pink and she was clutching her fists, a sure sign that she was about to launch into a Perfect Princess tantrum. "I told you to wait. Who is this guy?"
"Sara, this is Arsan," I grumbled, waving my hands between them. "Arsan, this is..."
"Thank you, but you do not need to introduce us," Arsan interrupted.
He knelt upon one knee at Sara's feet, which in my opinion, was totally unnecessary. Sara's ego was already enormous, despite the fact that her realm was almost completely in ruins. Chances were, when she graduated, she'd have to go out and find an ordinary job just like the rest of us.
"Do I know you?" Sara held out her hand and blushed prettily, or maybe she was still flushed from running after us.
"No, but we are about to become well acquainted," Arsan said, his deep voice as lyrical as a song.
"You are?" I mumbled. He was after her all along.
"We are?" Sara sniffed. "What makes you think that?"
"I have been sent here to protect you, and you, Carolie."
"From what?" I asked.
"By who?" Sara demanded.
"From everything," Arsan said. "And, by His Imperial Majesty, your grandfather."
Chapter 6
Ber
I couldn’t watch it, and apparently, neither could Angelica. She signed off the papers that ended my brother’s life, and then, called to me before walking out of the room.
“See ya around, Ber,” she said, tossing her hair back behind her shoulder, and casually waving goodbye. “There’s a blizzard coming, and I don’t want to be stuck here. If you ever get to Cyganus, look me up.”
“Right, sure,” I replied, staring out the window at the falling snow, her footsteps clicking across the ward’s linoleum floors. “Goodbye Mom.”
“Are you alright in here, son?” It was a doctor, one of the guys on our medical team. “Would you like to move to another room until it’s over?”
“No.” I shook my head, only briefly marveling how it didn’t bump into Kie’s, and remorsefully wishing that it still would.
If we were back in our old body, my brother would be alive. He’d be yelling at me to watch out, not to turn so fast, give him a little warning before I knocked into him, and took out an eye.
The doctor’s footsteps moved off. Kie’s monitor beeped with each beat of his heart, reminding me that for this moment, he was still here. I waited for it to quiet, for the next beat or the one after to be his last, but still, it continued steadily, even strongly.
The snow fell silently against my window, each perfect flake different, and beautiful in its own way, creating a world that was both magical, mysterious, and deadly. Why couldn’t we have accepted our own imperfect body as beautiful too? Why couldn’t we have seen the magic in being who we were?
Kie continued to breath. His heart continued to pump. The snow continued to fall, turning the world outside completely white. I waited. With each breath I took, I imagined filling Kie’s lungs with air, just as it had been when we we
re the same. With each beat of my heart, I imagined Kie’s blood rushing through his body.
Loud footsteps approached our door.
“Yo dudes!” Our cousin, Loran had arrived and with him the scent of stale cigarettes, spilt beer, and something sweeter, probably Barkuti. “Looking good, men. You’ll be up in no time, and then us three radical hombres are going to take on the town.”
When I turned around, Loran was standing next to Kie’s bed, his hand outstretched as if to high five.
“Yo Ber, what’s shaking my man? Looks like Kie here is still in la la land. What kind of meds do they have him on? I want some of that stuff. I haven’t slept for like, a week and a half.”
Loran looked like he hadn’t slept for a year and a half. His pale blonde hair was long and greasy, and there were huge purple circles under his eyes. His chin was covered in wispy white blonde hair, which might have been an attempt at growing a goatee, or simply because he had forgotten to shave.
“Hello Loran,” I said, which naturally prompted him to stroll around Kie to my bed. Again, he held out his palm.
“Ber, bro, dude,” he cried solemnly, slapping my hand and then hugging me, his voice thick with emotion as if we had been the greatest friends.
Loran was our mother Angelica’s first cousin twice over. The two Cyganian Princesses had married the two sons of the then Duke of Korelesk, and produced both of them. Loran, like me, favored our Lightie origins. In fact, now that I was in a normal body, the two of us could almost be mistaken for twins.
Kie was the odd man out, sporting a shock of bright orange hair, reminiscent of Great-Grandma Luci’s and supposedly, identical to our late grandfather, Captain Marik Korelesk.
“So…” Loran nodded over at Kie. “He gonna make it, or has he slurped his last soda?”
“Angelica unplugged him,” I announced unceremoniously. No sense in beating around the bush.
