The Bond of Blood

by Kody Boye

  Pain blotted his vision and drove him into darkness.

  Nova had just killed his third Kerma when he saw Odin fall. Arms burning, face and beard drenched in blood, he turned to see the creature he had come to know as the tribe leader impaled on Odin’s sword. The other two lay slain near Odin’s feet, while a third lying nearby had just been liberated of its head.

  “Odin’s down!” Nova cried.

  Miko raised his hand and shot a beam of purple light at the western peaks.

  A flash of light lit up the sky.

  Nova’s vision clouded over.

  When it cleared, an explosion shook the hillside and made the ground quiver as if it were trembling. Rock, snow and ice flew into the air and rained down around them as if it were the stuff of stars making its way into the atmosphere. Nova only managed to throw himself from the immediate area just in the nick of time to avoid being struck by a falling piece of ice.

  “Odin!” Nova said, gasping, fighting the weight of his armor to crawl toward his friend. “Odin! Odin!”

  He rolled the young man over, saw the cut on his leg and immediately inhaled a deep breath. While the wound bled, it didn’t seem life threatening, and for that he took to scanning the boy’s body for other injuries. When he found none, he closed his eyes and whispered a silent prayer.

  We almost lost him.

  “Is he injured?” Miko asked, falling by his side.

  “His leg got cut, but I don’t think he’s hurt anywhere else.”

  “Get his sword.”

  Nova stood and slid the hilt of the blade out of the dead Kerma’s chest, kicking the corpse to the side as it fell. The sword, slick with blood and chunks of flesh, looked even more ominous than normal.

  Is your blade black, he wondered, because you’ve tasted more blood than any other sword that’s ever existed?

  He cleaned the weapon as best as he could in the snow and on the Kerma’s cloak before sliding it back into Odin’s sheath. Miko, meanwhile, continued to kneel by the boy, a hand over the wound. Blood slicked the Elf’s pearly flesh and slid through his fingers to create a tapestry of spidery veins.

  “We need to get him to the village,” the Elf said, raising his head. “You’ll need to carry him.”

  “I don’t think I can,” Nova replied, only just realizing how worn out the battle had made him. “His pack, his weight, his sword…”

  Miko unbuckled the black blade and set it at his side, then grabbed Odin’s pack, which had been cast aside sometime during or before the battle. “There,” he said. “Take him into your arms. Be careful though—I think more than his leg was wounded.”

  “Why—”

  “Because the side of this coat is damp.”

  Nova swallowed. “How—”

  “The blunt edge of his pickaxe. I assume that’s what caused the injury.”

  “How bad do you think it is?”

  “I’m not sure. Please, be gentle.”

  “You know I will.”

  Sliding his hands beneath the boy’s body, Nova lifted him up, instantly surprised at how much the young man weighed.

  Almost immediately, the boy started thrashing. He groaned, cried out, then stilled his protest.

  “It’s ok,” Nova said, holding Odin close to his chest. “It’s just me. You’re safe.”

  “It hurts.”

  “It’ll be all right. Don’t worry. I got you.”

  Miko stepped forward, set a hand on the young man’s face, then said, “Sleep” in a soft voice, before continuing with, “until your body begins to wake.”

  For a moment, the air tingled with static. Just as quickly, it left. The boy’s body went slack in Nova’s arms. “Did you—”

  “It will help keep the pain away,” Miko sighed. “Come, Nova—I will try to keep the three of us warm.”

  “How much further do we have to go?”

  “Not much.” The Elf turned. “Now… come. We must get our friend to safety.”

  Closing his eyes, Nova watched the Elf crouch, slide Odin’s sword into his skirt and his scythe to his back, then position the two extra packs into place.

  “I’m sorry I can’t carry anything else,” Nova sighed.

  “The boy is burden enough. Do not worry.”

  Miko took a few steps forward.

  Taking a deep breath, Nova started walking, all the while holding his friend close to his chest.

  You’ll be ok, he thought, stroking Odin’s hair. Have faith.

  2

  When a baby is born, it sees everything—the past, the present, maybe even the future. It sees the Elves that came from the distant lands that lay across the sea and the corruption humanity and others brought with them. It sees the wars raged and the blood spilled across the horizon, feeding crows a feast that would last them for years to come, and it sees men strewn across the battlefield: bloodied, bruised and crazed from the atrocities of war. It may not realize what exactly it is seeing, for it is only freshly-born and ignorant of the world, but there is a reason newborn infants cry. The world is harsh—unbelievably-cruel, even, for it burns those who are young and scars those who are not meant to be touched.

  It was like that baby, whom was very much ignorant of his surroundings, that Odin woke from a nightmare of storms—of snow and blood and little bearish men. He saw before him a wooden ceiling deeply-tinted and worn by age and was instantly blinded by the light from the outside world.

  Where am I? he thought, setting a hand over his eyes. Why is it warm?

  For several doubtful moments he lay there trying to muster the urge to at least open his eyes. Silence clouded his thoughts and confusion rumbled throughout his conscience, echoing across his ears and reverberating along his eyelids. It seemed too peaceful, too normal for it to be outside, in the cold, barren world completely unforgiving and without respect. It was this feeling that came over him for quite some time, trapping him in blissful melancholy, before he heard a man growl nearby.

  Nova?

  “Nova?” he managed, moving his arm away from his eyes and turning his head only to find that his friend wasn’t there. “Where are you?”

  “It’s okay,” someone said. “You’re safe.”

  The new, unexpected voice jarred him upright. Odin nearly screamed when pain shot through his leg and spiraled into his hip.

  “You got hurt pretty bad,” the strange man said, setting a hand on Odin’s shoulders. “You okay, buddy?”

  “I—” Odin blinked. The man, dressed in a sleeveless blue jerkin and pants the same hue, bore tan-colored skin, as if he were an individual pressed into the sun and meant to work in the fields for long periods of time. How this could be Odin didn’t know, as all there happened to be in Neline was snow and clouded skies, but that didn’t necessarily bother him. What troubled him was the presence of another man—of a person other than a nearly-dead, rotting Kerma. “I’m in the Globe Village,” Odin said, dumbstruck, his heart flickering in his chest and strumming peace across his ribcage. “Aren’t I?”

  “You are. Your friend—Nova, I believe you called him—is over there.” The stranger pointed at the opposite wall, where beneath a window Nova lay in bed, sweat gleaming through the layer of red hair on his chest.

  “Is he all right?” Odin asked. “Did he get hurt?”

  “No, he’s not hurt. You, on the other hand—” Odin reached down to grab the blankets, instantly all the more aware of his injuries, but the man caught his hand before he could do so. “You can’t see anything anyway. Besides—even if you could, I wouldn’t let you.”

  “Who are you?” Odin frowned. “A doctor?”

  “A doctor’s assistant, actually.” The man smiled and reached back to scratch his neck. “I’m Joseph. The big man in the black coat said your name was Odin.”

  “That’s right. And that’s my friend Nova.”

  “You three have come a long, long way.” Joseph stood, crossed the room, and pulled a skein off a desk that stood near the wall before offering it to
Odin. “Water,” he said.

  When Odin tipped the skin back, moisture sweeter and warmer than he had ever tasted in his entire life slid down his throat and into his stomach. He didn’t care about its temperature—he’d had enough of the cold. “Where is my master, sir?”

  “He’s speaking with the mayor at his home. I’m sorry to say that I can’t let you out of bed.”

  I don’t want to get out of bed.

  Pain bore no mercy, especially when the throbbing sensation reemerged in his hip.

  “I think,” Odin began, carefully settling himself against the headrest, “that the Kerma hit me with the blunt side of its pickaxe.”

  “You fought with the Kerma?”

  “I fought the tribe’s leader. It had magic, otherwise I would’ve been able to kill him before it could do this.”

  “It’s a good thing we’re protected here,” Joseph said, letting out a nervous laugh. “If the Kerma are revolting, I don’t want to be in the middle of it.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  Though Joseph offered no reply, he smiled, instantaneously easing Odin’s worry of being a burdensome patient.

  “How long will I be in bed?” Odin asked.

  “At least until your hip starts feeling better. Your leg’s not as bad. I was able to stitch that up right away.”

  “Will I be able to walk?”

  “Your muscle wasn’t damaged and your hip is only bruised, though the bruising is deep enough to make me concerned. You’ll be fine, though—in the long run, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’m going to rest now.”

  “That would be for the best.” The assistant stood. “If you need something, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’m more than willing to bring you something to eat or drink.”

  “I will,” he said. “Thank you.”

  Just as the man turned and walked back to his desk, Odin drifted back to sleep.

  This time, there were no storms.

  “Odin… Odin. Hey, buddy. Wake up and say hey.”

  Nova’s smiling, windburnt face appeared as soon as Odin opened his eyes. He couldn’t help but smile when he reached up to grip his friend’s hand. “Hey,” Odin said. “I’m glad you’re awake.”

  “Me too. I had a dream about you that woke me up.”

  “You did?”

  “Uh huh. I dreamed we were back in Ornala sparring with the staves.”

  “And you won,” Odin chuckled.

  “Yeah,” Nova smiled. “I did.”

  Pushing himself into a sitting position, Odin scooted back against the headrest and propped a few pillows behind his back. Nova sat down and nearly patted his leg, but stopped before he could do so.

  “Almost forgot,” Nova murmured.

  “Did you get hurt?”

  “Oh, no—I didn’t. You don’t have to worry about that.”

  “I thought you got hit by an arrow?”

  “I did, but he healed it the night after we fought the Kerma.”

  “But if he healed you, why didn’t he—”

  “Miko said healing you would not help your injury because it was too deep,” Nova sighed. “I think he was concerned about wasting energy. He stopped the bleeding, but he wanted to keep you warm.”

  “What about Miko? If he all right?”

  “You should’ve seen him kill those Kerma. It took hardly any effort at all. And the way he blew the side of the hill up—”

  “He blew the hill apart?”

  “Yeah. He shot a huge beam of magic at the area and everything just exploded. Thankfully we didn’t get hurt.”

  Odin nodded and slid his hands behind his head. He almost pushed the blanket off until he realized he’d been stripped of his clothing.

  “Yeah,” Nova chuckled, “I got a big surprise when I crawled out of bed.”

  “How long have you been up?”

  “Not long.”

  “Do you know where Miko is?”

  “I asked that Joseph guy if he knew. He said he’s visiting with the mayor.”

  “Again?”

  “Again?” Nova frowned. “You were awake earlier?”

  “I’m… not so sure. I don’t know if it was earlier today, yesterday, or—”

  “Well, all I know is that we’ve both been out of commission for a while. Doesn’t surprise me much though, considering what all we went through.”

  “Yeah.”

  Nearby, a door opened. Joseph, garbed in a thin cloth coat, stepped into the building. “Excuse me,” the man smiled. “I had to step out for a moment.”

  “That’s fine,” Odin said. Nova nodded his approval. “How long have we been asleep?”

  “Days. I started to get worried, but your knight master assured me that you were both all right.”

  “He knows us pretty good,” Nova grinned, sliding an arm around Odin’s shoulder. “Huh, bud?”

  “Yeah, he does.”

  “I trusted his decision even though he wouldn’t take his cloak off,” Joseph said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is something wrong with him?”

  “No,” Odin said. “He… just prefers not to be seen.”

  “Which is why I asked—”

  “His skin,” Nova said, “it’s sensitive. He’s very pale. You can see the veins under his skin, so he tries to keep himself covered so others don’t have to see him.”

  “Oh.” Joseph nodded, seemingly-pleased with this answer. “All right. It’s none of my business. I’m just trying to be helpful. You three have come a long way.”

  “Yes sir,” Odin smiled. “Thank you.”

  Joseph turned and walked back to his desk.

  In the silence that followed, Nova reached up and scratched his beard, then turned and looked out the nearby window. “I wonder what it’s like out there,” he muttered.

  “You haven’t been out?”

  “I only just got up, remember? The first thing I did when I got out of bed was wake you up.”

  “All right,” Odin said. “Just wondering.”

  “No worries,” Nova grinned. “Besides—I’ll be more than ready to tour the area once you get to feeling better.”

  Later that evening, just as the sky began to darken, Miko returned, hunching his back and tilting forward his left shoulder to fit through the door.

  “Hello sir,” Odin said. “I hope your day was good.”

  “I’m glad to see the two of you are awake. I was getting worried.”

  “Joseph said so.”

  The cloaked Elf turned, scouring the room. He reached for his hood, but stopped before he could loosen the strings.

  “Probably not the best idea,” Nova muttered.

  “Which was why I stopped.”

  “You know,” Odin started, “if you want to get out of your cloak, you could go get a room at an inn or something. I know I’d want to get out of it if I were you.”

  “Odin’s right,” Nova said. “You should go get a room, get that damn thing off you. When was the last time you bathed anyway?”

  “I’m concerned about the two of you more than I am about myself.”

  “It’s not good to worry about someone other than yourself for too long. A man’s gotta look out for himself too.”

  “I assure you, I’m fine.”

  While Miko crossed the room, toward an armchair that appeared large and heavy enough to support his frame, Odin pushed himself up, grimacing at the throb in his hip. He ignored it, instead pulling a blanket around his body. “Why’d it get so cold all of a sudden?” he frowned.

  “The village runs off a magical heating system made up of stones that float in the sky on the four sides of the village. The mages that live here share the burden of keeping the barrier up, though that in itself requires little actual magic. The heating aspect, however… it requires much more work. You realize how much energy it takes just to heat yourself, Odin.”

  “Right, sir.”

  “But imagine heating a whole village for an entir
e day. It would kill a dozen mages to do it, let alone a handful. So, like they share the task of keeping the barrier up, they share the work of imbuing the stones to provide warmth. They don’t channel the warming magic at night because it would be too big a task.”

  “That makes sense,” Odin said. Nova nodded, but didn’t seem too interested, even though he had given Miko his full attention. “It’s best to just stay inside and under the covers at night then.”

  “Yes,” Miko nodded. “You’ll be fine. You have nothing to worry about. The wood is thick and the cracks are filled with plaster. Even if it does get cold in here—which, obviously, it has—the blankets will keep you warm.”

  Nova rose from his chair and settled down on his bed. Though he didn’t get under the covers, he grabbed the spare blanket at the foot of the mattress and wrapped it around his shoulders.

  “This is where I leave the two of you for the evening,” Miko said, standing to his full height. “I’m going to take your suggestion and get a full night’s rest without my cloak. A bath would also do me some good.”

  “All right,” Odin said.

  “See you in the morning,” Nova added.

  Raising a hand, Miko bade the two of them goodbye before he headed out the door.

  Odin’s leg recovered quickly. His hip, however, showed slow signs of healing, and the first time he’d seen the actual scar on his leg was when Joseph removed the stitches some two weeks after they were inserted. About the length of his palm from middle finger to wrist, the gash stood out on his upper thigh in the quick between his pelvic bone and upper leg, but seemed to have little bearing on his overall mobility. Joseph said that, because of his age, it would most likely heal and disappear altogether—not that it particular mattered, as Odin could care less whether or not he had scars of battle and because he’d fought nobly, but it gave him peace of mind to know that his leg wouldn’t be a hindrance for the rest of his life.

  It’s good to fight your battles when you’re young, the doctor’s assistant had laughed, his stitching tongs and scissors carefully in hand as he’d removed the stitches. I sure wish I’d fought some of mine when I was your age.