by Heath Pfaff
"Is that any question to ask those whose hospitality you are infringing upon?" He answered my question with his own, in a voice that was intelligent, and well mannered. "Besides," he continued, "I am no monster, simply a man like yourself."
"What of him?" I heard myself ask, pointing to the creature with the top half of a bear. The bear eyed me with hungry eyes, great slavering jaws glistening and hungry.
The man laughed. "He is indeed a beast, and he would kill us both if I but let him slip his chain for a second. He hates you and me."
I didn't see the humor in his statement. "Why do you not kill him then, while he is chained and unable to harm you?" That seemed a logical course of action to me.
The bear-legged man's eyes turned hard. "If I were to kill him, would that not make me a monster as great and terrible as he is? He and I are not so different, you see."
I thought on this for a time, trying to find an answer. It seemed to me that letting such a beast live was akin to inviting death, but killing a creature, any creature, that was chained and helpless . . . was that the act of a man? There seemed some other question to this problem as well, something deeper that I wasn't grasping, but that I knew I should.
"Why does he hate us so greatly?" I finally thought to ask.
"Because you and I are both still part man, while he is lost to the beast." The man with the bear legs answered.
"Part man? I am a man, whole." I answered, pounding my fist to my chest. "I am no half-beast as are you and he."
"Aren't you?" The man with the bear legs asked.
I looked down at myself and, sure enough, there were the legs of a great beast beneath me. Those feet that had carried me down the path, uncontrollable on their course, were those of a monster. My eyes shifted up so that I might rage against the man with bear legs, and demand to know what he had done to me, but when they came to where he should have been, I found myself staring eye to eye with the top half of the bear, its chain dangling loose behind it. It jumped at me; forepaws swinging in a vicious arc that I knew would end me.
I awoke, covered in sweat and with the terrors of the night still weighing heavily on my chest and lingering in my mind. I was hardly one to look for meaning in my dreams, but I rarely had such clear visions in my sleep. What it meant was beyond me. I stretched my body, trying to expel the last of my sleep, and decided to put off thinking about my strange dream for some other time. On my desk sat a basin of water and a cloth to clean myself. I didn't know when it had been delivered, but the water was still warm. I was happy to have it. I got up from my bed, mindful of my right side, and stood over the basin, looking at the face I saw reflected within. It had been a long while since I'd really looked at myself, but I did so then. Vibrant blue eyes looked out from beneath hair that was too dark to be called blond but not as dark as was common in those parts. It was cut short, at least in relation to the longer hair styles that were popular among the men of the city, though it was long enough to hang and cover most of my face if I didn't sweep it aside. My face was soft featured, covered in the light hair of a man who was still too young to need regular shaving. I was tall for my age, but not so much so that I stood out amidst a crowd. I was not well muscled and had never been called graceful or quick by anyone. I was an apprentice of lore and such physical attributes had been unnecessary throughout the course of my life. I ran my hand through my reflected image in the basin, remembering the heated words of Kyeia the night before. Ripples broke apart the surface of the water until all that remained in the basin was the wavering light from the window.
"I am nothing special," I repeated to myself, disappointed in the face that had looked out from the water. Only those blue eyes, clear and bright, marked me as different from any number of other boys you would find in any number of towns and cities of the world. Yet, despite my plain nature, I found myself in an unusual situation, still unsure of what my future might hold. Kyeia had been so certain that I was destined for great things, but what those might be was still beyond my imagining.
Merrywin came into my room not long after I washed. She had her normal bright smile and went about her work with diligence, only departing after changing my bandages and providing me with a tray of breakfast and a clean set of clothes. I asked about my own clothing and was informed that there had not been enough left to bother repairing. It was depressing to know I would not see my apprentice loremaster clothing again, mostly because it was the last vestige I had of everything I'd left behind, and I still couldn't get over the feeling that I would not be returning to my life in the city.
My life had been nothing worth recording in the histories, but it had been pleasant enough. I'd had a good job and within the year my parents would have arranged for me to be married to a nice girl, probably one who worked in the field of book binding or scribe craft, so that our two skills would complement each other. I had also looked forward to the prospect of marriage simply because the male side of me had grown quite lonely through my long years of study. At that age, nearly seventeen years, most of my friends had, if not married, at least experienced the secrets of men and women. They had often chided me regarding my naiveté in such regards, but honestly none of it had bothered me. For me romance, or at least the semblance of romance to be had from an arranged marriage, was simply another part of my life that would unravel in its own time. My family had been wealthy enough that it was never a question of me finding someone whom I loved, but always a matter of waiting for my parents to determine who would be a profitable match for me. I was sure they would have made a choice in my best interest. In truth, I probably would have done no better myself. It wasn't that I couldn't speak to women, just that I had no idea what it would take to impress one.
I shrugged my shoulders, as if in doing so I could simply shrug off the thoughts that troubled me. It wasn't so, but it acted as a physical symbol of my readiness to move on. Having finished cleaning, I picked up the clothes that had been brought in for me to wear. The shirt was deep green, like the leaf of a tree at the height of its summer bloom, and the accompanying pants were a rich black. The quality of both was superior and had the stiff feeling of clothing that had been freshly tailored. I was surprised to receive such a nice outfit for free and I slipped into it quickly, finding the fit quite to my liking. The sleeves of the shirt were long but the shoulders and elbow were spacious enough not to bind as I moved. The pants were of a tough material I was not familiar with but was flexible and breathed enough to be comfortable. There were no shoes or boots, which I assumed would be rectified eventually. I looked at myself in the wash basin again, though I could see little more than my collar and a piece of my face in the water that remained.
"Good enough," I said to no one, and sat down to eat my meal. My breakfast was porridge, another small loaf of bread, and water again. Some would have complained about the lack of variety in the beverage, but I had always found cool water to be very refreshing. I ate my food in silence, wondering what I should do once I was finished. My side still ached considerably but it felt well enough that I wanted to be up and doing something. I knew nothing of where I was and the small room I was staying in offered me little in the way of anything to do. I made up my mind as I ate that I would go out and have a look around after my meal. I had not been forbidden to leave my quarters and I couldn't see where there would be any harm in at least familiarizing myself with my immediate surroundings. I harbored a nagging suspicion that someone might be upset with my choice to do some exploring but quieted my worries by again telling myself that no one had said I shouldn't get out and about. Even Merrywin had indicated that I was well enough to be up and about when she brought my food, and if that wasn't the same as saying I should go for a walk then the rules could be damned.
With my breakfast finished I went to the door of my room, half expecting it to be locked when I tried to turn the handle. It wasn't. I pushed the door open and stepped out into a long hallway. The corridor was broken by doors on either side, four beyond me on each side
of the hall to my left and two on each side of the corridor to my right. I guessed, from the uniform appearance of the doors, that I was in some sort of medical ward. Briefly I considered seeing if anyone inhabited the rooms around mine, but decided at the last moment that it would be rude to disturb others who might be resting and trying recover from wounds. Instead I turned to my right and walked to the end of the corridor where there was a door. I grabbed the handle and attempted to turn it, but it was locked.
"Ahhh," I said aloud. My room wasn't locked and I hadn't been forbidden from leaving it because they knew I couldn't go far if I did. I walked back along the hallway to the far end, seeing if there was anything there that I might entertain myself with, but the end furthest from my room contained nothing but more rooms with closed doors and a stone wall with no window. Suddenly the sick ward I'd been in felt more like a prison than a place of healing. I realized that perhaps this was why the window was so high and narrow in my room. I was given the illusion of freedom, but nothing more. I could, I thought, wait beside the door at the end of the hall until someone came through and then try to make a break for it, but that would accomplish little. Whoever it was that had gone to the trouble of having me fetched would not let me go so easily and at least for the moment I was being treated with some level of accommodation. If I tried to run, things might get much worse for me. I walked forlornly back to my room, closed the door, and sat down on my bed. I wished I hadn't gotten up to look around. Before I knew I was locked in, I had felt better about my situation.
There was nothing for me to do, and so I sat and waited. I don't know how long it was, but after a time I heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and then my door opened and Kyeia stepped in. I noticed, as she came in, that there was a figure in a shifting cloak still standing in the hallway beyond my room. It was obviously a guard, there most likely to ensure that I didn't try to make a run for it while I had visitors. I wondered if Merrywin was also accompanied when she did her rounds. It wasn't that I had any intention of trying to run, for I was certain I would be caught before I could even leave the building, but I was interested in understanding just how thoroughly I was being watched.
Kyeia spoke, but I almost missed her words as I was still deep in thought, "...for yesterday. I didn't intend to get so angry. There is much you still don't understand, but I can answer some of your questions now." I only caught part of what she said, peripherally, until the last few words. At the prospect of finally getting some answers, my attention perked. She noticed my jump in attentiveness and held up a hand, indicating that I should wait before jumping into the litany of questions she knew I had. She reached up and pulled back the white hood that had hidden her face from our very first meeting. I jumped at what I saw, unintentionally, but I knew that she'd seen it. She wasn't disfigured at all: if she had been, I would have not been as surprised. I was prepared to handle something like a missing eye, or terrible burn scar, but I wasn't prepared for the truth. Beneath her hood was a beautiful girl, apparently near my age but perhaps a little younger, with hair as white and fine as any I had ever seen. The lines of her face were so gracefully crafted that the word "perfection" slipped into my mind unbidden, but the tranquility of her features only proved to make her most outstanding feature all the more intense. Her eyes were like those of Tempest, though not the same shade of dead black. Instead, they were the deepest violet I'd ever seen, broken only by the white ring in the center, and the streaking, ever shifting, lines of lightening.
My words bubbled free from my mouth before I could stop them. "You're not human... like Tempest, you're..." She put a finger over my lips, the touch cool and electrifying.
"I am of the race known as Uliona, and though my eyes are like those of Tempest, Tempest is not of my people. My people serve your king by way of sacred Pact and I am a servant of that Pact. Tempest is a Knight of Ethan, and holds a far superior place in the chain of command."
As she spoke, I remembered Merrywin calling Kyeia a "Bound One" the day before, and now I thought about that further. Was Kyeia bound by her people's pact to serve Tempest? They traveled together constantly, and though I had not suspected anything other than a girl and her bodyguard before, now I wondered if there wasn't more to it. The two seemed to have a deep secret understanding of which I wasn't part. I had felt it during our travels together, brief though they were. I held my tongue, wanting to know the answer but I found myself unable, or unwilling, to phrase the question.
She continued, "You have been brought here to receive a very rare type of training. As I explained to you before, you have been selected, through the crystals, because you possess traits that will enable you to succeed in this training where others would fail. I am still not at liberty to discuss the exact nature of the training, the outcome of the training, or the nature of my people's Pact with the king, but I can answer other questions that you might have." Her tone of voice was professional, almost dispassionate, as though she were trying to keep her distance from me. I felt a brief pang of jealousy at Tempest, feeling that something had been lost between Kyeia and me since we'd traveled together. Possibly, I realized, because I had misspoken the day before.
"How long will this training take? Will I be allowed to return home when all is done?" They were not the questions that I found most pressing, but all those I would have asked if I'd had my free will were beyond the scope of what Kyeia was willing to answer.
"The training time varies, depending on how apt you are at the work. I would say no less than a year and no more than two. Once your training is finished," She paused here, seeming deep in consideration about how to proceed. "...once you've finished your training, you could return home, if you wanted to. None of the others have."
"The others? When will I meet them?" I asked, curious to see what I was being trained for.
She shook her head. "I don't think I can talk about that."
I thought for a moment, my eyes lingering on hers, and the beautiful shape of her face. Despite her eyes, so foreign and strange, I felt myself once again inexplicably wanting to lean forward and kiss her. I turned away from her, trying to break the hold she seemed to have over me. It was foolish to let my mind wander down such avenues. I knew very little of her, and her only concern with me was her duty, which I felt she would perform no matter what that meant to me. How little I truly knew of her.
"How long am I to remain locked in?" I asked, deciding the time for tact had failed. If she was surprised, she didn't show it.
"You will be released later this evening, but you shouldn't try to leave, Lowin." She said. I wasn't sure whether this was a warning or a friendly pleading. "They won't let you go, and things will be much harder for you if you run."
I tried not to show my disappointment, but I felt my shoulders slump. I was, indeed, a prisoner. I had hoped, foolishly, that perhaps the medical ward was kept locked for other reasons or that Kyeia would deny that I was caged when I made the accusation, but such was not the case. Any appearance of freedom I might have for the next year or two would be false, and what would come after that? I couldn't begin to guess.
"Will there be any others in training with me?" I asked, hoping that I might, at the very least, find a companion to share my time with.
"No, Lowin." Kyeia answered with what I thought might be sympathy, in her voice.
I nodded, suddenly feeling more alone that I'd ever felt in my life. I fell back into my bed, defeated. "I have no more questions," I said, and while it wasn't exactly true, I found myself not wanting to know anymore. I hoped that maybe, by not knowing anything else, I might somehow avoid any more bad news.
Kyeia stayed a few minutes more, quiet, as though there was more to be said or she expected something else from me, but I ignored her. In truth, I wanted to ask her to hold me and tell me that she would be my friend, so that I might have at least one person to turn to in my new hostile world. I said nothing and after a time she got up and left the room. I am not ashamed to admit that I cried then, for a l
ong time, sobbing like the boy I still was. By society's standards, I may have been a man. However, I was still just a child lost in a world of frightening adult concepts, friendless and adrift. Merrywin came in later, to bring my lunch, and though she was cheerful and attempted to make conversation, I turned my back to her and let her go about her work. She must have felt sorry for me because she told me that she would come back later and check my wounds, and then departed, leaving me in the perfect silence of my cell.
I was, of course, being foolish. It accomplished nothing for me to alienate the few people who would actually talk to me, and I knew that. We all want to be saved, and at that time that is what I wanted most of all. I wanted someone to force me to care about the world, to show me that things were going to be all right. There was no one left to do that for me, I knew that as well. I passed several more hours then, wallowing in my own self-pity, waiting for the day to end. When my door opened next, I had every intention of ignoring whoever it was. I guessed it was Kyeia, back to try to talk with me again, since it wasn't yet time for dinner. Therefore my shock was complete when I felt someone grab me by the back of my shirt and lift me from the bed, swinging me around until I was looking into a pair of intense black eyes. At first I thought it was Tempest, come to beat me for ignoring Kyeia earlier in the day but I realized quickly that I was looking into the eyes of someone else entirely. The gaze that met mine was that of a woman. She was tall though, taller than I, and strong. The arm that protruded from her Lucidil Cloak was fur-clad like Tempest's, a claw with articulate digits ending in razor-sharp knives. Her hair was fiery red, tied back from her face severely and though there was beauty in her features it was overshadowed by a brutal ferocity that chilled me to the bone. As for the rest of her form, it was impossible to distinguish beneath the shifting surface of her cloak.
"I understand you will be starting your training soon." Her voice did not ring with the same terrifying rumble as Tempest's. I thought it might be a distinction between males and females of her race, none the less her voice held command and I answered though it hadn't been phrased as a question. I quickly forgot about my own self-pity.
