The Guardian's Grimoire

by Oxford, Rain

  “Women are respected, men are expected to defend them and mind their manners around them. In formal situations, men stand when women enter the room. You don’t cuss or speak of religion in front of women. But we’re getting away from the subject.

  “When telling someone your name, use the last name, your title, and then your first name. After you’ve met the person, you can use their first, then last name, only to them, or just their last name and title, also only to them. When speaking to others about them, use the last name, title, then first name order. Call children or those who haven’t earned their last name by their first name. You can also use first names with someone you’re very close to, and you use the title with someone older or higher titled than you. People of Duran respect their elders.”

  “Divina doesn’t address you with a title,” I said, looking at her. She looked bored.

  “Divina is… outspoken. Most women don’t act like her,” Edward explained.

  Divina gave me her gorgeous smile and I had the irrational and irresistible urge to reach out and touch her. I quickly turned my attention to Edward. “What is your title?”

  “Mal. There are simple titles, like “mas,” which is that of a doctor, or “do,” which is a servant title. Some are complex, like mine. It means that I’m a father to sons, I’ve been married, I’ve saved a life, I’m able to handle, distribute, and prescribe class five medicine, I’ve completed schooling as one of the best in my class, and some other stuff I forget. I’m also registered as a wizard, but won’t pick up the title because I would only be able to teach wizards who are already good at magic. They usually believe they know better than me.”

  I looked at Divina. “What is your name and title? Divina hardly sounds Asian.”

  “My actual name is Alia Vemie. My title is Sij. It’s Modo oriented, and a Ronez gave me Divina as a nickname. Alia is a mythological goddess said to have come to Duran to spread culture and knowledge between the lands. That’s why he called me Divina; I was named after Alia.”

  “You’re an only child?” Edward asked me. I nodded and he thought for a minute. “When were you born?” I told him and he sat back. “As for your last name is it your father’s?”

  “No; it’s my mother’s, and I’d love to get rid of it.” Had I known my father’s last name, I would have used it the day I turned eighteen.

  “Then take my name. No one would doubt you and it’s a well-respected name,” he said.

  I knew that telling me I could use his name was a big deal, but I really didn’t know what to say until the moment to say anything sailed awkwardly away.

  “As for your title, I really don’t know. You didn’t finish school.”

  “Not college, which is optional. I finished high school, though. I’ve died. Is there a title for that?”

  “Not unless it was to save another’s life or in battle. And you’d have to stay dead. Your job was worth no title. You haven’t married and had no children.”

  “I had a cat that I fed and cared for. Most of the time.”

  “There’re no cats on this world. Try to come up with something you can use.” We both sat there in deep thought for about ten minutes before giving up. “I guess you can only be considered an apprentice in wizardry. You can register as home-schooled and take a very long test to get the credit. I warn you; it’s hard, but school is very important here. Until you do, you’ll take the title, tai. Dylan Reyd Toka Yatunus-tai.”

  It was interesting… I’ve been called worse. “How do you say ‘I am’?”

  “Mokate, and then the name.”

  “How am I going to take an academic test if I can’t speak, let alone read, Sudo?”

  “It’s not difficult to learn. Sudo follows the rules of English closely, Modo is more like Latin, and Vido is more like Hebrew… or Chinese… I get those two mixed up. Writing and reading is simple. Every syllable has a symbol and there are fifty-two symbols. You will have trouble pronouncing several syllables. There are small symbols like a dot or a line you add to the symbol to slightly change the syllable. Names use a much more complicated writing, and you’ll have to learn the symbol for each name. This isn’t a problem when you meet someone because you can ask how to write or say a name. In order to take your title formally, you’ll need to fill out and sign a form. I can fill it out but you must sign your new name in Sudo.” He picked up Divina’s burnt book and found a place inside the cover that wasn’t blackened. He pulled a pencil out of his bag, but it wasn’t the one I used to sign our books. It had graphite and an eraser; just like all the other pencils I’d used. He very quickly wrote my new name down in four symbols. The first symbol was pretty complicated. “Work on this until you can write it naturally and quickly.”

  I nodded and lay on my stomach on the bed to work while Edward and Divina started playing cards. After an hour of listening to them cussing and insulting each other in other languages, I sat up. I was pretty sure the game they were playing was the same one they had started an hour earlier.

  “Can I play?” I asked. Edward sat back and put his hand over his eyes.

  “Sure,” Divina answered. “Kiro lost half an hour ago.”

  He glared at her. “I have not lost. You put the wrong card down and I win. And I let you cheat. That blue knight was worth nothing because there’s a full moon. You used it as a wildcard.”

  “I’m facing west, which makes my last even an odd, which bumps my next card up; therefore, my knight was a silver general.” Edward groaned but she went on. “So… my silver general is a wildcard under the full moon.”

  “Never mind,” I said. The game gave me a headache just neuron-linking about it.

  “No, seriously, this game is over. You lost, Kiro. Give up.”

  “I will not. I have not lost. I have never lost at cards. Go.”

  She put down a card and he put one on top of it. She must have predicted his choice, because she put down three cards at once and pushed them to the side. She then put another card down and smirked at Edward. He stared at the card keenly.

  “What are you waiting for?” Divina asked. He didn’t respond. After a few minutes, she asked again and he smirked at her.

  “The time shift.” He set a card down. Divina was deep in thought for a second before she made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a cry. Edward’s cruel sneer grew and he sat back.

  It was interesting to watch their unguarded reactions. It was very, very clear that both of them absolutely hated to lose. If that was how they acted over a game of cards, I could only imagine how they would be in a real battle.

  “No. You… I have a gold general.”

  “There’re two players. There is nothing to beat me,” he responded. She glared at him. “You wanted me to give up because you knew I could win with this card.”

  “There’s no rule against bluffing. If you weren’t so stubborn…”

  “I would have lost.” Edward looked at me. “Divina and I get a little competitive when we’re playing each other, so you’re probably better off with private lessons,” he said. I nodded, surprisingly relieved, and went back to my name practice.

  Divina relaxed on the bed while I sprawled on the floor with the book in front of me. I wrote for hours until my hands cramped up and my chest hurt, then I rolled over and studied the ceiling. The lamp was growing dim and the sun had set. Edward and Divina had both fallen asleep. It occurred to me that while they worried about wearing me out, it was I who was wearing them out. I got up slowly, in desperate need to stretch. I didn’t want to practice my Sudo signature anymore, but didn’t want to sleep, either. Instead, I decided to explore the ship. I knew it was stupid, but I really hadn’t gotten to be on my own, or more importantly; out of their watch, in so long.

  The second I stepped outside and slid the door shut, I felt a rush of adrenalin.

  Chapter 9

  I was minding my own business, sneaking around, but stopped dead when I reached a room full of angry voices. At any second, the door could open a
nd someone would come out. Surely I wouldn’t get in trouble… until the person started talking to me. As quietly as I could, I took off in the other direction. I was rounding a corner when we collided. He was much heavier than me (and steady as a rock wall) so I took most of the damage, but when I looked up, I realized we were both on the ground.

  “Ite, ite, moshi ite!” he said. He was out of breath, though he was already pulling himself to his feet. I was less graceful, and when we were both on our feet, I recognized him.

  “Sorry,” I said, the word slipping out before I could stop it. I froze. It was the guy from dinner with the black hair and purple/blue eyes who talked to me, and I just spoke in English. He frowned and I waited for everything to explode.

  We both just stared at each other with wide eyes.

  Then he very slowly reached out his hand. “Loge. Mokate Ishte-le Mordon.”

  I’m not the brightest person sometimes, but I’m not slow. I shook his hand and tried not to groan as his grip crushed mine. “Logbi. Mokate Yatunus-tai Dylan,” I said slowly, not bothering to mimic his accent.

  “Kedose me sekemas?” he asked, to which I said nothing. His frown returned. “Modo te lekiris?”

  He was getting suspicious, so I made a surely fatal decision. If I was lucky, no one would believe him when he ran off to tell someone. And everyone knows I’m lucky.

  I sighed. “I…” I pointed to myself, “speak…” I make the classic sign of speaking, “laba Sudo.”

  He frowned, but then smiled brightly.

  “Semo de…” he pointed to me, “laba…” then clapped his hand over his mouth. “Daka gorame?”

  He was asking if that’s why I didn’t speak earlier. I got the idea that he had known I wasn’t mute. I nodded. “Yes. Mowa.” Instead of reacting with fear the way Edward figured people would, he seemed to find it cool.

  “Yes,” he nodded as he mimicked me. “Mika sora Laba?” he asked.

  “Laba is no. Laba. No.”

  He repeated the term.

  “I…” I pointed to myself, “speak…” I made the speech sign again, “English.”

  “I… speak… Sudo.” He copied my expressions and even my accent.

  And so we were friends just like that. We would never see each other after sunrise, he was several years younger than me, and we could hardly talk to each other, but it was nice to meet someone who wanted to hang out with a foreigner.

  “Mordon!” Some man was calling my new friend, and he sounded angry.

  Mordon’s eyes widened in surprise and fear right before he grabbed my arm and pulled me with him down the hall. Given that the alternative was sticking around to meet an angry alien, I followed willingly. We ran until we rounded the corner of a three-way fork and ducked down. He peered over the corner before looking at me and laughing quietly.

  “Tera a kesato…” he pointed back behind him and then made the motion of holding a cup. “…kuso de dzumoga …” he pulled a little, dark blue bottle out of his pocket and mimicked pouring it into the cup.

  “What is this?” I asked.

  “Suia kuso,” he said, making the classic sign of sleep. He then raised his finger in a sign of either “wait” or “however”. “Shimo, kagosa iedo…” As he spoke, he purposely wavered as if drunk, until I nodded that I got the point. “Yabuha migehte.”

  In translation; he used a sleeping potion on someone, but it didn’t work well and the victim got violent.

  “Who?” I asked. He frowned. “Who was that?” I pointed down the hall.

  He thought for a minute before pointing to himself. “Ishte-le.” He pointed down the hall. “Ishte.”

  “Oh, your father. Was that the man sitting next to you at dinner?” I indicated him, pointed to the empty space next to me, and then using the spoon to eat.

  He nodded, then pointed beside me. “Amoke datte?

  I was fairly sure he was asking about Edward. I pointed beside me. “Yatunus-mal Kiro. I call him Edward.”

  “Edward,” he repeated. “Your father?” He picked up languages ridiculously well.

  “No. Laba. My teacher. My mentor…” I couldn’t think of anything to indicate teacher. Then I remembered that the word for “wizard”, which Edward taught me at the springs. “Yabe teacher. He teaches me Yabe.” I pointed from my side, to my head, to myself.

  “Haso to yabe?” he asked, pointing to me.

  I nodded. “Wizard. Yabe.”

  “Oto mo yabe,” he said, pointing to himself.

  Translation: He was a wizard, too. So we carried on like that, talking about anything and everything we could sign until we neither of us could retain anymore words or phrases. Subject change was confusing.

  Mordon help up his finger and fell silent as if he heard something. Obviously, his hearing was fantastic, because about five minutes later, his father called out his name again. He was close enough to hear, but not close enough to determine where his voice was coming from. Mordon could tell, apparently, because he took off down the hallway to our right. I followed, though I worried about getting lost or running into anyone else.

  Eventually, we came to a door at the end of a hall, which Mordon entered without hesitation. I had no reason to object, but when he shut the door, I wished I had. We were in the weapon room. After listening for his father for a few minutes, he turned, looked around, went over to one of the walls, and then picked up two wooden swords. He threw one to me and I very awkwardly caught it before it could clatter to the floor.

  “Laba,” I said quickly.

  “Yes,” he argued.

  “Laba.”

  “Yes.” We raised the swords, still arguing. “Kade?”

  “Ready,” I answered. He swung his sword and I swung mine. They didn’t meet each other; they bashed into our arms. Though we hadn’t used much force, we both dropped our swords and cradled our arms. “Oww…” I groaned. I couldn’t hear what he groaned.

  We tried for only about a minute before he gave up. Mordon seemed to be well trained, but he was strangely awkward with the wooden sword. To me, he acted like he never held a wooden sword before, yet he knew the techniques Edward used.

  Apparently, that meant we had to find something else to do. When he raised his fist like Edward had, I rolled my eyes. Sago didn’t need alcohol and sports to have fun; just brute fighting. I raised my fist but, like Edward, he lowered his arms.

  “Otego nida,” he said. He cautiously stepped forward, reached out, pushed my elbows in, and then raised my fists closer to my face.

  I nodded and he stepped back, raising his fists again, but in a martial arts stance.

  “Ready,” he said.

  “Kade,” I said. I made the first swing and he blocked it, then sent his own. He wasn’t nearly as fast as Edward and I was able to block. If anything, my fight technique was more of a defense, while his was more of textbook routine, as if he knew the moves, but he didn’t want to use them. All the same, he was much better with his fists than the sword, probably because of his size.

  After throwing a few pointless punches, we got a little carried away and ten minutes later, we were wrestling. Neither of us were very good at that. He was faster and stronger than me, but not like Edward was, and I was a little bigger. It was more fun than training with Edward and Divina because, although I didn’t learn as much, I was less embarrassed about it.

  It wasn’t very long before we were both too tired to continue, but as we tried to catch our breath, we were laughing. When the laughing died down, we slowly got to our feet. I took a minute to look around the room.

  His fist came fast from behind, but before I even realized it was coming at me, I had dodged it, swung around, grabbed his arm, and he was suddenly on the ground. I let go quickly. “Sorry,” I said. I wasn’t sure what I had just done, but I was sure I shouldn’t have been able to move that fast and react like that without a single thought.

  “Gojenai,” he said leniently and accepted my hand to help him up. He didn’t seem unsettled by my unusua
l agility. Even though he had been play-attacking, my reaction was engrained by years of boarding school. I just couldn’t remember being that fast before.

  “I should go. Edward is asleep and he might wake up,” I said while signing it as best as I could.

  He nodded. “Bye,” he said.

  “Bedo.” I left and snuck back up to the room.

  I paused at the door, calming myself so I would be quiet and not wake them. The door slid open to Edward and his thinly veiled glare. Divina was sitting on the bed with a less subtle glare.

  “I had to go to the bathroom.”

  “For over an hour?” His voice was tight.

  The food is terrible. “I got lost. I didn’t want to wake you. I really did think I would be back before you two woke up.”

  Edward sighed. “Get in,” he said. I passed him like a live bomb and he slid the door shut. “Did you run into any trouble?”

  “None. I was careful. I’m sorry if I worried you.”

  “Of course you worried us. We know how bad your luck is; we thought you might have accidentally fallen off the ship,” Divina said.

  I hated how they made me feel like a child but, compared to them, I was a child. It had to be terrifying for Edward to have one of the books forced into the hands of someone with so little experience. On top of that, he had to live with a constant reminder that his brother died.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, suddenly feeling more upset about Ronez than Divina’s insult.

  “Go to sleep. I wanted to teach you more but you need your rest now so you won’t make mistakes tomorrow,” Edward said.

  I nodded. I offered the bed to Edward but he said he couldn’t sleep lying down in a ship full of people, so I got in the bed and to my great joy, Divina stretched out next to me. I could smell the sweet scent of incense in her hair and feel her warmth. While trying to quiet my mind, I found my thoughts drifting back to Divina wanting revenge for Ronez’s murder, and I wondered what she thought of natural death. What does any immortal think of natural death?