by Kody Boye
“If you want to fuck, you want to fuck. Trust me—I know how that feels.”
“You haven’t said anything though.”
“Well, yeah, bud—it’s because I’m married. And because I take care of myself.” Nova grinned. Odin merely shrugged. “What?” the man asked, baffled, as though he’d just received a response that could not be taken literally. “Don’t tell me you don’t—”
“Oh, I do,” Odin smiled. “But I don’t know anything about being with a woman, so it’s not like I have much to go on about.”
“Anyway,” Nova laughed, “you probably don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“Not really,” Odin chuckled. “I’m just glad Miko opened up. I try to tell you guys about how I’m feeling.”
“And you know I’m more than willing to listen.”
“Same with me.”
They stopped. Now near the side of the globe, Odin stepped forward, a desperate desire to touch its surface suddenly instilled within his mind.
“What’re you doing?” Nova asked.
“Just looking at the globe,” he said. “It’s kinda neat, isn’t it?”
“If a bunch of you magic guys can keep something like this running, hell yeah it’s neat.”
Nova stepped up beside Odin. Unlike Odin’s indecision, Nova did reach out and touch the globe. Ripples immediately extended from the surface like water would if a stone were cast into it and echoed across its expanse until they disappeared to the limits of the ground and the heights of the sky.
“I wouldn’t try to push your hand through it,” Odin muttered, tempted to reach forward and pull his friend’s fingers away. “You might get it stuck out there.”
“Touching seems wrong enough,” Nova nodded. He pulled his hand back, examined it, then wiped it on the leg of his pants. “It’s like… I don’t know… trying to touch something you’re not supposed to.”
“We were never told not to touch it.”
“Yeah, but you get my point. It’s the act of touching something you’re not sure you’re supposed to touch that makes it feel wrong.”
“You’re right about that.”
Odin knew the feeling more than well. The sword that graced his belt was proof enough of that sentiment.
“You ready to walk back to the infirmary?” Nova asked. “I’m starting to get a little worn out from all this walking.”
“Yeah,” Odin said. “I’m ready.”
The two turned and started back down the road.
“Sir,” Odin said, surprised by his knight master’s sudden arrival. “What are you doing back so soon?”
“The mayor has errands,” Miko said. “Hello, Joseph.”
“Hello,” the man said, looking up from his desk to smile at the three of them. “I haven’t seen you for a while.”
“I’ve been visiting with the mayor.” Miko closed the door behind him. “I’d like to thank you for the attention you’ve paid to my squire and friend. It means a lot knowing I have someone like you watching out for them.”
“It’s all in a day’s work,” Joseph smiled. “I like helping people and bringing them back to health. I wouldn’t be a nurse otherwise.”
“You’ll be a very fine doctor.”
With that short introduction finished, Miko stepped up to the table. Odin lay on the bed, content with his place in the room and the happenings around him, while Nova sat on the couch beneath the windows, hands behind his head and his feet on the opposite armrest.
“I’ve told Master Hakua about the two of you,” the Elf said.
“Why’d you do that?” Nova asked, turning his head to look at their cloaked friend.
“He was interested in who I was traveling with. He wants to meet both of you.”
I wonder why, Odin thought.
Maybe Miko’s urge was starting to get the best of him. He could see no other reason for the mayor’s sudden interest in the Elf’s companions.
“Right.” Nova rolled onto his side, attention set on the Elf. “What’s the mayor like?”
“Very old and wise.”
“I take it he lives in that big mansion up on that hill in the north then?”
“Right. It takes a while to walk there, but it shouldn’t be any trouble.” Miko turned his eyes on Odin. “You’re able to walk?”
“I’ve got a little limp, but I’m ok.”
“It’ll go away,” Joseph said, then waited to see if he had interrupted their conversation before continuing. “You limp because the bone is bruised.”
“So that’s why my side is still purple,” he mumbled.
“Yes,” Joseph nodded. “If the three of you don’t want to walk, a friend of mine can take you in his carriage. He’s got a trio of fine stallions that would be able to pull the three of you.”
“That sounds nice,” Miko said. “If you will, arrange for him to come when the sun rises. The mayor’s invited us for morning tea.”
“All right,” Joseph said, heading for the door. “I’ll go now—unless, of course, you need something?”
After they shook their heads, the doctor’s assistant walked out the door to leave them to thoughts of tomorrow morning and the tea that would come with it.
A whole other side of the village greeted them the following dawn. Drawn in red wood, structured by ornately-carved columns, tipped with roofs slanted and decorated with black stripes likely used to draw heat from the ever-lingering sun—housing the size of barns and with multiple living compartments bordered both sides of the roads, creating a caricature of the people that lived within the Globe Village. Amidst the bustle of early risers and horse-drawn carts, children yelled and screamed, dogs yipped and barked, men in finely-woven robes wandered the streets and women carrying upon their shoulders linens and fruits walked the sides of the roads, tending to those who’d fallen or the elderly rising from a long night’s rest to greet the day. It looked to be nothing other than the ordinary, this place beneath a magical snow globe, and it felt nothing other than inviting despite the circumstance the village existed in.
“This is where the older generations live,” Miko explained, drawing Odin and Nova’s eyes away from the outside world as they passed what appeared to be a playing field. “They were built to help withstand the cold before the mages imbued the floating rocks with heated energy.”
“Just after the land was cursed,” Odin nodded. He turned to look back out at the area, watching the inhabitants play, work or stumble about with abandon. “How long has the village been here, sir?”
“A good while. I can’t say for sure because this part of the world has never particularly interested me, but I assume it’s been here for as long as Ornala has stood, if not longer.”
“So at least a thousand years or so,” Nova said.
Miko nodded.
“Sir,” Odin said, suddenly entranced by an idea. “How has the village survived for so long? I mean, it’s not like every family manages to have a son or daughter with the gift.”
“You’re absolutely right, Odin. But as to your question, I’m not exactly sure how the village has managed to withstand the test of time. Like you’ve said: the gift is rare enough within large populations of people. How is it a small village can have so many people with magic?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ve always seen it as a thing of luck, really. But, there have been cases when older mages have sacrificed their lives to keep the stones going for a much longer time. That’s only happened a few times, but only in the most desperate of situations. Suicide offerings, however, are not uncommon, especially considering that even on their death bed a mage is still immensely powerful.”
Odin turned to look back out at the city. Above, on the large hill that lingered over the village, stood the mayor’s mansion, covering the surface from one side to the other in a grand, luxurious sweep. The sight of the building made him think of how old the mayor could possibly be and just how many mages he had to have employed to keep his people ali
ve. It had to be more than a few dozen, because just a mere handful of men couldn’t produce the amount of energy it took to sustain the globe, much less heat the village.
Unless there’s something other than men here.
Although he trusted the Elf more than anyone else in the world, he was going to hold secrets, possibly ones that could reveal the world and more unto his conscience. Miko seemed to be the master of such things, as it usually took brute, mental force to get him to say anything, and for that Odin had to wonder if there was more to the Globe than was being let on.
He’s not going to get us into anything that’s going to hurt us.
Then again, the Elf had been the one to take them here, where along the way they’d run into both sirens and Kerma.
We got out of that though, didn’t we?
All except for the men who’d succumbed to terrible beauty, or how his arms had been torn apart by Nova and his hip bruised by the Kerma.
I’m okay though, he thought, looking down at his arms, which, contrary to his previous beliefs, had not scarred at all. And my limp is going to go away here soon.
He couldn’t say he regretted coming all this way.
In such a short amount of time, he’d learned more than he would have as a farm boy throughout his entire life.
“Hello, Hakua,” Miko said, bowing his head. “I’d like you to meet my friend, sir Novalos Eternity, and my squire, Odin Karussa.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet both of you,” the mayor of the Globe village said, gripping Nova’s hand, then reaching out to shake Odin’s. “My, you’re quite a fine young man. You both are.”
“Thank you, sir,” Odin said. He turned just in time to see Miko pull his hood down. “Sir!” he cried. “Why are you—”
“I already know,” Hakua said. “He’s too fine a creature to be hidden beneath a cloak.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Miko said, disrobing fully until he stood in only his cape and skirt, feet bare and muscles showing. “I appreciate your kindness.”
“And I appreciate your company. But come—we’ve wasted enough time with chatter. Tea and biscuits are ready.”
The old man turned and led them down a set of stairs and into a fine living room. Here, a series of bedazzling crystal chandeliers of varying colors dangled from the ceiling, casting shards of light gleaming through the windows across the room, while couches the finest of reds lay arranged in a square, each bordered by soft rugs and furs. Hakua took a seat in a fine, plush chair that formed around his body as soon as he settled in, then gestured them to sit.
Odin and Nova sat on a couch. Miko took his place in an armchair large enough to support his frame.
Upon settling down, Odin set his hands on his knees and leaned forward, watching Hakua pour tea from a fine, porcelain pot. “Your home is beautiful,” he said, looking up at the rafters that crisscrossed the ceiling.
“It really is,” Nova nodded. “It reminds me of what my father-in-law’s home looks like, though it’s nothing as big as this.”
“You’ve left a woman behind, coming along on this adventure,” Hakua nodded, lifting a cup and setting it in Nova’s hands. “You’re quite brave, sir.”
“Not brave. Just foolish, I suppose.”
“Foolish, maybe, but brave nonetheless. I would have never been able to leave my wife when she was alive.”
Nova nodded, but said nothing further. Odin watched his friend, waiting for any sign of indifference, then turned to look at his knight master, no longer wondering why he had spent so many long hours at the house. Here—in this grand, luxurious mansion—he could not only rest and talk in comfort, but be himself.
Now that he thought about it, maybe that was what Miko truly desired—to walk and talk freely, unafraid of what someone else might say, think or do.
“Odin,” Hakua said, immediately drawing his attention away from the Elf. “Your master said you came from Felnon. Is that right?”
“Yes sir,” he said. “I grew up there with my father.”
“I’ve heard it’s a truly beautiful place.”
“It is,” Odin smiled. “It’s surrounded by trees on all sides, there’s hills you can climb up and sit on to look at the whole village, streams where you can fish and forests filled with game. It’s… well… hard to describe, but it’s like the trees there are greener, brighter than anything else in the entire country—at least, from what little of it I’ve seen.”
“It sounds wonderful,” Hakua smiled. “And you, Nova—you came from Bohren?”
“Yes,” Nova grinned.
“The land of the hills,” Hakua laughed. “Is it really as hilly as they say?”
“The surrounding area is, but the town itself was built on the flatter parts. Me and my wife live with her father further out of town. The land starts to rise and fall there.”
“Miko said you used to live on a hill?”
“I could see all of Bohren there,” Nova smiled. “My father… he raised me for much of my life there until he passed away a few years ago.”
“I’m truly sorry,” Hakua sighed, setting his cup of tea down. “It’s hard when a man loses his father.”
“It is, but he taught me everything I know, so I can’t say he’s been forgotten.”
“No good father is forgotten,” Hakua nodded. He relieved the table of his cup of tea, then looked at Miko, pale eyes lingering above his steaming tea. “How have you been, kind Elf?”
“I’ve been well. You?”
“I myself have been fine, though I regret to say that my daughter has come down with an illness.”
“What kind of illness?” Odin frowned.
“I believe it’s no more than a cold, but it’s been enough to keep her in bed. My daughter’s always had trouble with sickness, but she’s always come out of them.”
A quick glance at Miko showed more than he needed to see. His expression—a mix between trouble and desire—lay tangled across his face. Eyes out of focus and lip curled to one side, the Elf readjusted his position, if only to ease the likely unsettling heat in his chest.
Maybe I should get him alone, he thought, looking from his knight master, to the mayor, then back again. It might not be good to stay if his urge is getting worse.
“Miko, sir,” Odin said. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”
“You know you can.”
“Alone,” he added, hoping the resounding frown wasn’t a warning of things to come. “If that’s all right, anyway.”
“No, we can speak.” Miko stood, gesturing Odin to rise with him. “Hakua, may we use one of your halls?”
“You’re more than welcome to use an empty room if you’d like,” the old man said. “We’ll be here when you get back.”
Nova offered an odd look, but Odin only shrugged before turning and following his knight master down a hall. They passed a framed piece of artwork depicting the village, the mansion, and of horses and other creatures before they came to the very end, where a large window opened up to reveal the frozen wasteland that lay beyond the almost-invisible, translucent barrier.
“What did you want to speak to me about?”
“Are you all right?” Odin frowned.
“I’m fine,” Miko smiled, mouth harsh and full of lies.
“You don’t look fine. You were squirming in your seat.”
Miko turned and looked out the window.
“Sir,” Odin said, stepping forward, suddenly perturbed by the Elf’s silence. “If you want to leave, I’m sure Nova wouldn’t mind. We don’t want you to be comfortable.”
“So you told him.”
“I…” Odin paused, then sighed. “Yes sir. I did.”
The Elf had nothing to say. He simply continued to look at the window.
“We’re only concerned,” Odin continued, hoping to press the matter further. “We care about you.”
“I told you that in confidence, Odin.”
“I know, but—”
“Would you like me to tell
Nova the things you told me?”
“I haven’t—”
“You’ve told me more than a few things that you wouldn’t want Nova to know. I’ve kept them between us so far, haven’t I?”
“I’m sorry.” Odin bowed his head, unable to meet the Elf’s eyes for the shame he held in his heart. “You can tell him anything you want that I’ve told you.”
“I won’t tell him anything.” A pressure on Odin’s shoulders caused him to look up. Miko stood there, glossy purple eyes showing no trace of anger or hurt. “You’re young,” the Elf said, tightening his grip on Odin’s body. “I expect you to turn to others when you don’t know what to do.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s just… I don’t know how to help you.”
“I don’t believe anyone does, Odin, and I don’t believe anyone ever will. Even I don’t know how to relieve the urge and temptation that rests in my soul.”
“I’m sorry I broke your trust.”
“You haven’t broken my trust at all,” Miko said. “Please, don’t think you have.”
“I… I just… I just want to be the best I can be for you,” Odin sighed, balling his fists. “The only other person I’ve ever wanted to please was my father, and without him here—”
“You turn to me,” the Elf nodded, finishing what Odin couldn’t. “It’s all right. Please, don’t be afraid you’ve done something to disappoint me.”
“All I’ve wanted to do was please you.”
“You have,” Miko said, “and you always will.”
After Miko and Odin returned, they excused themselves from the mansion and headed back to the infirmary with Nova. The whole ride back, Odin couldn’t help but feel guilty and wronged—guilty that he’d revealed something Miko had told him in confidence, wronged because he had no one else but Nova to turn to for advice.
He’s already said he’s all right with it, he thought, looking back up at the Elf.
Still, that did little to relieve the pain in his heart.
“You have a good time up there, bud?” Nova asked, sliding an arm around his shoulder.
“Yeah,” Odin said, somehow managing to force a smile. “I did.”
