((Author’s Note: Well, 3rd time’s a charm, isn’t it? This is, indeed, the third time I’ve re-started this story, and now I’ve changed the viewpoint. Maybe this time I’ll get farther, eh? Anyway, I wrote ¾ of this chapter a few months ago and didn’t re-read it when I started writing it again, so if there are mistakes, forgive me?

Oh. And this story will most likely have m/m relationships, but that probably won’t be for a while, unless I get very impatient.))

The King’s Legion

Chapter One

The sharp crack of a whip echoed throughout the air, followed by a muffled cry. I clenched my jaw, but dared not look away. My nails dug into my palms, almost so hard that I feared I would draw my own blood. I felt sick. I wanted nothing more than to run away, but I couldn’t. I had to stand still and silent as I watched my friend get whipped for a crime he didn’t commit. I knew speaking the truth wouldn’t save his life, they would still kill him, and me, too.

I shivered in the morning air, wrapping my arms around myself, and winced as the lash fell on his bare back again, decorating it with another bleeding gash. I could feel my hands shaking, my eyes filling with tears I could never shed. It would be a dead give-away if I cried amongst a crowd of jeering men. They all enjoyed it, watching a sorcerer die.

Pyter cried out again as the whip broke his skin. His hands were bound above him, and on his hands were the black gloves belonging to the King’s Legion. A ten-pointed star was on the back of each glove, laced with the power to contain a sorcerer’s magic, a magic that he had never even had in the first place.

The officer whipping him paused, handing his whip to someone nearby, and raised his hand for silence. The jeering and the laughter died down and the officer began to speak. “This man has committed acts of high treason against the crown.” His voice was soft, but it carried effortlessly through the crowd. “He has been found guilty of the most heinous of crimes. Not only did he show himself as a sorcerer by using his vile magic, but he used it to resurrect a soul that should have belonged to the Gravekeeper. The soul of his daughter.”

They had killed her already, and his wife, too. His wife for consorting with a sorcerer and, worst of all, giving her body to him. They had killed his daughter to right his wrong. Her soul belonged to the Gravekeeper, so they sent it to him. Even if she hadn’t been touched by magic, they would have killed her anyway, for being the spawn of a demon.

The officer spoke again, but I was deaf to his words. I was numb inside. I watched in defeated silence as the officer cut a ten-pointed star into my dearest friend’s breast, right over his heart. From that wound, they would draw every drop of blood out of his body and paint the ground with it. He would still be alive as they killed him.

My hands were shaking. I could feel every muscle in my body trembling. I clenched my jaw tight, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill over. This was not the first time I had watched someone close to me die at the hands of the King’s Legion.

I could feel my heart breaking as I watched them steal his life from him. Bile was rising in my throat, but I forced it back down. I should be dying alongside him. I had healed his daughter. I had been careless, and someone had seen the flash of light. We had heard the shift of gravel as the spy had ran to tell the Legion. Pyter had looked at me with horror-stricken eyes as he had begged me to leave and let him take the blame. It had been hard, looking into the eyes of a man who knew he would die. It took a split second of indecision before I had nodded and fled.

He cried out again, but I couldn’t bare to look at him anymore. I focused instead on the grey sky behind him. It was my fault that he was dying. I wished desperately that my own death would prevent his, but I knew it wouldn’t. Death would be the easy way out. I knew the reason he wanted me to live. If I lived, I would be able to heal more people. I would be able to give their lives back to them. However, it was only a matter of time before the Legion started linking things together. I would suffer the same fate as Pyter. I knew this, yet I proceeded on. I would not deny my calling.

I tried to block out the screams as the officer placed his hand over the star engraved on Pyter’s chest. A red glow emitted from his hand and blood began to flow more freely from the wound. Pyter thrashed in his bonds, screaming. They were using sorcery to draw the blood from his body, plain and simple. I was one of the few who could sense when sorcery was being used. Their sorcery, however, was different. It was crawling with revulsion and the feeling of wrongness.

Finally, he was dead. He slumped in his bonds, covered in his own blood. I started walking, feeling and seeing nothing. I had no idea where I was going. It didn’t really matter, anyway.

“Va’rai!” A hand grabbed my arm roughly. “I called you three times!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.” I stopped, speaking to the man beside me. He was a little taller than I, his bright blue eyes focusing intently on mine. He studied me closely, a few golden strands of his short hair falling over his eyes.

“Va’rai, I know he was your friend, but—“

“Jak, what do you want?” I asked, a little colder than I had intended.

His eyes widened in shock at my tone. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I mean, you can’t have known you were friends with that thing.”

I turned away from him and started walking again. Right now, hearing about how “despicable” and “evil” my friend was because of something he didn’t actually do was the last thing I needed.

“Va’rai!” He grabbed my arm again. “I know you’re upset, but you should be glad there’s one less of his kind on this earth!” I yanked my arm from his grasp and continued on.

“Wait, please, I’m sorry!” he called, running to catch up to me.

I stopped, turning to face him. I took a few deep breaths before speaking. “Jak, I can’t deal with this right now.” I started on again. He stood there, stunned for a moment, before following me again. This time, he was silent, for which I was very grateful for. I walked on, the only sound filling my ears was the sound of his footsteps and mine, treading across broken cobblestones as we passed even worse-looking buildings. It was certainly not the richest part of the city. Far from it, in fact. During the day, the streets were lined with beggars and dirt-covered, thieving kids, and at night, drunks and thugs.

I turned down a narrow alleyway, wanting to avoid the larger streets. I had no desire to see anyone now. Instead, I headed vaguely in the direction of my own dismal-looking home. There were faster ways to get there, I knew, but I didn’t mind the extra walk. Once home, the only thing left for me to do would be to encase myself in my own misery.

“Va’rai,” Jak called softly as I turned down another back alleyway. He almost sounded concerned.

I stopped short in the mouth of the alleyway, but not because of Jak. I took a hesitant step forward, then knelt carefully in the muddy street by a body. It was common for people to end up dead in these streets, especially people like the one I was kneeling before.

“Va’rai, please, get away from him!” Jak hissed at me, but I ignored him, studying the body. He was lying on his stomach, his head turned to the other side, away from me. Prominent was his black head of hair. I guessed that was why he had been beaten to death. His black hair labeled him clearly as a Dreynian, a “raven.”

His clothes were worn, spotted with old blood and travel stains. He wore simply a thread-bare long-sleeved shirt and pants and leather boots that looked like they were being held together by sheer force of will. His condemning black hair was drawn to the back of his head, but in the center of it, not the nape of the neck as most men wore it. More than a few strands escaped their confinement, falling about his pale skin.

I stopped paying attention to Jak’s hurried whispers and warnings and reached out to touch the Dreynian’s cheek. It was still warm. So, it had been a recent murder. I knew now that I sould walk away and forget that I had ever seen this, but I couldn’t pull myself away. There had been too much death in this one day. I felt numb inside, the grief of my friend’s death weighing heavily upon my heart, now joined by this curious sadness over the death of someone I didn’t even know. I doubted he had done anything against the law. He had probably been killed simply because of the color of his hair.

Almost as if in a dream, I crawled around to the other side of his body. I didn’t want to disturb his body, but I had the sudden yearning to see his face. I wanted to know who they had killed.

I was almost struck breathless by his face. It looked nearly as if it were carved porcelain, turned purple and blue from several harsh fists. Blood covered his nose and part of his face, framing his slightly parted lips. Blood also matted his hair down, coming from a wound on his temple. I reached out to touch him again, but withdrew my hand quickly. It was then that I heard the shallow, rasping breath. He was still alive. This time, when I reached out, I did touch him, brushing a few strands of hair away from his discolored and bloody face.

I adjusted my glasses carefully as a smile flooded my features. “He’s alive,” I breathed, looking up at Jak. “They didn’t kill him, he’s alive,” I repeated.

Jak’s face went from horrified to disgust to anger. “And just what the hell are you going to do with him?” he demanded harshly.

I didn’t answer him. Instead, I gathered the limp man’s body in my arms and stood up. This was why I was still alive. This was the reason Pyter had died for what I had done. He had died so I could help others, and I was struck with the strong resolution to do just that. I would not let his death be in vain.

“Va’rai! Va’rai, wait! Can’t you see he’s a raven? Just what do you think you’re doing? You can’t honestly be thinking about helping him, can you? His kind are barely any better than sorcerers, Va’rai!”

“Jak,” I began, shifting the Dreynain’s weight in my arms. “I don’t care what color his hair is. He’s a man, just as you and I are, and he needs help. If I leave him here, he will probably die by someone else’s hand.” I said the words softly, but I might have screamed them, judging by the look on Jak’s face. He looked as if I had driven a knife into his heart.

“There’s a reason someone wanted him dead. He’s probably a murderer himself,” Jak gritted out coldly.

“We don’t know that. Excuse me,” I said, walking past him. The Dreynian was very light for his size, but my arms were already beginning to tire and I didn’t want to waste time on a pointless argument.

“Va’rai,” Jak began again, but I interrupted him. “I don’t care to hear what you have to say on this matter. You’re welcome, as always, to come with me, but I will not change my decision based on what you think.”

By the time we reached my house, my arms were burning. Jak was still with me, bu the had stayed silent the entire time. He stood a few paces behind me and to the side, watching quietly as I fumbled with the door and pushed it open. My house consisted of one cramped room that served as a kitchen and an even smaller room that was the pitiful excuse for my bedroom. I laid the Dreynian down carefully on my bed. I edged past a furious-looking Jak and made my way back to the kitchen. I grabbed the bucket of water I had drawn that morning, found a suitable-looking cloth, and walked back into the bedroom. Jak said nothing as he stood in the doorway, but I could feel his disapproval radiating from him.

I sat down on the bed next to the man, setting the bucket of water on the floor. I wrung out the cloth and held it for a few seconds, hesitating. I heard Jak shift uncomfortably behind me, but he said nothing. After a few moments, I pushed back some of the man’s midnight-colored hair and began dabbing carefully at his face. I was gentle with each movement, careful not to press too hard as I cleaned away the dirt and blood.

Despite myself, I couldn’t help looking at him more than a healer usually would. Dark bruises covered half his face, but it was still the most beautiful face I had ever seen. A thin white scar ran past his left eye, starting at his cheekbone and running almost to his temple. The next thing that caught my eye was the small silver hoop earring that rested in his left ear. I almost reached out to touch it, but I drew my hand back. I didn’t even know this man. I was simply a healer and nothing more.

After I had wiped away all the blood, I pressed the cloth to a particularly nasty-looking cut that was still bleeding. Head wounds always looked more serious than they actually were because they bled so much. I left the cloth there and got up to get something to bandage the wound with. I walked past Jak again, ignoring his cold look. Why he was still here I couldn’t fathom.

It took a bit of searching, but I found the white roll of cloth that I was looking for. The Dreynian hadn’t moved and Jak was still glaring at him with a baleful look. I sighed inwardly and removed the cloth from the wound before lifting up his head gently and wrapping the bandage around it. I tied the ends securely and resumed staring at him. He looked like he was dead, unmoving. I would have assumed him dead were it not for the shallow breath he drew into his lungs and the warmth of his skin.

I glanced uneasily at Jak out of the corner of my eye. I wanted to make sure the Dreynian wasn’t suffering from an internal wound, but I didn’t think I could trust Jak with my secret. I wouldn’t risk exposing myself. If Jak knew, he might turn me in, and I didn’t want to risk it.

I rested my palm on the Dreynian’s cheek. At least he didn’t have a fever, but I still couldn’t mask the worry I felt that something wasn’t right internally. At least with the physical contact I would be able to look into his body, but not as deeply as I would have liked. It would be the only way to avoid looking suspicious to Jak. The contact with the Dreynian’s skin would help, but it would be easier if I could touch him more. Well, it would have to do.

I closed my eyes, trying to ignore my own body and focus on his. It took longer than it usually did, but finally I was able to locate that small thread of consciousness that would tell me what his body felt. His head hurt, but nothing serious. It would heal on its own well enough. He had more bruises on his chest and arms, but there was no blood rushing out of any wounds. His heart was beating soundly… there! Pain was radiating from his left ankle. I tried to focus on it, but it was getting harder. Something was pushing back against me. A sprain, that was all it was. Fortunately it wasn’t broken.

I heard a sharp crack and pain blossomed in my jaw as I was jolted from the Dreynian’s body. My head was reeling. I blinked, trying to connect my own consciousness back to myself. My vision focused and I realized I was lying on the hard, wooden floor. I sat up shakily, still very disoriented. My jaw hurt. I looked up at the bed. The Dreynian was sitting up, a wild look in his eyes.

“Oh, by the Twins,” I breathed. His eyes were an almost translucent blue, almost as pale and clear as ice, but still unmistakably blue.

I heard swift footsteps echo against the floor. I leapt to my feet and intercepted Jak. “Don’t,” I whispered harshly as a strong headache began to take root in my skull. It was a result from being punched and forced back into my body so quickly.

“Va’rai, why are you protecting that monster? He hit you when you did nothing to him!”

“Let me handle this,” I murmured, meeting his eyes and holding them. He looked exceedingly uncomfortable and I thought he was going to fight me on the matter, but then he grimaced and nodded with a bitter look on his face. I turned back to the Dreynian. He looked like a frightened, cornered animal, his back to the wall.

“You’re lucky you’re not dead,” I said softly as I knelt by the bed. His eyes kept darting from Jak’s face to mine. He said nothing, pressing his lips together in a thin line. “There are very few who are lucky to only escape with a few bruises. Most people are killed in those streets,” I tried again, with the exact same result as before. Jak shifted angrily behind me.

I sighed. “Can I at least take a look at your ankle?”

“Don’t. Touch. Me,” he growled in a low voice.

“You sprained it,” I pointed out, trying to be patient. “I just want to help you.”

“Why?” he asked, almost angrily.

“Va’r--“

“Don’t, Jak,” I cut him off, noticing how the Dreynian’s eyes were fastened on Jak. He still looked terrified and I doubted that Jak’s angry countenance was helping.

“If I had wanted to kill you, I would have done so already. Why would I bring you here and help you if I only wanted to kill you?”

“I can think of several reasons.”

“Look, I’m unarmed. I’m not going to hurt you.” I could tell by the look on his face that he didn’t believe me. “Just let me bind your ankle, nothing more. If, for any reason you want me to stop, you have but to ask, okay?” I reached for his foot and pulled it towards me gently, consciously keeping my gaze on his foot instead of his face. I didn’t want to seem threatening or seem like I was challenging him by looking into his eyes. His crystal blue eyes.

It was a delicate task to remove his shoe. His foot had already swelled a great deal and it was difficult to take the shoe off, but I managed to do it without having to cut it off. I knew it must have hurt, but he didn’t make a sound.

I wrapped his foot securely. “There,” I said.

“I don’t have any coin to pay you with.”

“I didn’t expect that you would,” I replied. I chanced looking at him. He still looked wary. “You should stay off your foot if you can. Do you need a place to stay?”

The Dreynian’s eyes darted from my face to Jak’s. I glanced over my shoulder. Jak’s face was almost purple with rage. I got up and approached Jak. He glared daggers at me. Neither of us said anything. I locked my eyes on his, not yielding, but still staying silent. The tension was almost palpable. He shifted a little and I almost thought that he was going to hit me, but he looked away quickly. His hands were clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, but I knew that he wouldn’t do anything.

I knelt back by the bed. “Are you hungry?”

“I don’t have any money.”

“You said that already. I don’t need anything from you. It’s my job as a healer to take care of my patients.” He didn’t say anything in answer.” I caught a glimpse of indecision flicker across his face. His beautiful blue eyes flicked from mine to focus on somewhere else. He took a few shaky breaths. He looked almost childlike. I wrenched my thoughts away from where they were heading.

“I don’t expect anything from you,” I murmured reassuringly.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice as soft as a whisper. “Why are you… helping me and asking nothing in return?”

“The color of your hair holds no meaning for me, nor do the color of your eyes,” I told him, just as softly. “I know what it feels like to be in your position and I want to help you.”

He gave a dry laugh. “How? Your hair doesn’t even have a trace of any color other than blond.”

I adjusted my glasses, choosing carefully before speaking. “There is always a trait in each person that someone else will hate and think is wrong.”

He stared at me coldly and I met his eyes. He looked away first. “You won’t be well spoken-of for this.”

“I’m aware of that, but if you leave here before you’re completely healed, you will be attacked again, and this time you might not escape with your life. I can’t just let you leave here, because if I did, then what I’ve done for you now would be pointless.”

“I have nothing to pay you with.”

“Just tell me your name.”

This time he hesitated a bit longer, staring at anything that wasn’t my face. “Aindrias,” he said at last, bringing his eyes back to mine. I smiled gently at him, offering him my hand. He took it after a few seconds. I clasped it warmly in my own. “I’m Va’rai, and this is Jak.” I smiled reassuringly at him before releasing his hand. He snatched it back to himself as if he had been burned. He shifted uncomfortably, still not bringing his eyes to meet mine or Jak’s.

The silence deepened uncomfortably between us. I wanted to learn more about this man, what he had been doing, why he was here, but he seemed to draw deeper into himself whenever I tried to speak with him. The answers he gave me were short and soft, if he even answered me at all. I didn’t grow impatient or frustrated with him as some might have. I didn’t want to pry into what he didn’t want to tell, but my curiosity was almost overwhelming.

He still wouldn’t look at me. He kept his eyes fastened to the sheets on the bed. It pained me, because that was what I most wanted to look at. From the one brief glimpse I had caught of his eyes, I had wanted to stare into them forever. His eyes were a shade of blue I had never seen before. They were pale, almost translucent. Some people probably found them disturbing, but to my eyes, they were beautiful.

“How does your foot feel?”

“Fine,” he answered shortly.

“If it hurts, I can give you something for it.”

“It’s fine.” His voice wasn’t harsh, though his words were brief. He spoke almost in a whisper, as if he was afraid to disturb the silence.

“Are you thirsty?” I tried again, but he didn’t answer me. I took his silence as a yes and got to my feet. I glanced at Jak, and he stepped aside, letting me pass him. I retrieved a clay cup from a cupboard. The well wasn’t far from the house and it didn’t take me long to fill the cup with water. When I got back, Aindrias was in the same position he had been when I had left. I set the cup on the small table near the bed.

“Let me know if you need anything.” He nodded. I left the room quietly, shutting the door behind me. He would need time to open up to me.

No he was my patient, and I was his healer. It could never be anything more than that. I scolded myself for ever letting my thoughts wander that way.

Jak was waiting for me in the other room. He still looked as angry as before. He stepped closer to me and pressed a cold, wet rag to my jaw. I winced a little at the pressure. My jaw was already starting to swell.

“Thanks,” I murmured, moving to hold it myself, but he didn’t let go.

“Why are you keeping him here after he did this to you?” I almost thought I detected a note of concern in his voice through the anger.

“He was startled.”

“He hit you when you did nothing.”

“And I forgave him for that.”

“His eye twitched and I almost thought he was going to say something, but he only dropped his hand from the cloth and stormed a few paces away. “Va’rai,” he said, his voice strained. He rubbed his brow, still not turning to face me. “You can’t live like this. What would you do if he had pulled a knife on you? Would you still push it off as nothing? What if, the next time, he killed you?” He finally turned to me. “I couldn’t stand to lose you like that. You trust too easily, Va’rai.”

“I’m not as defenseless as I look. If it ever came to that, I could handle myself.”

“You expect me to believe that? I’ve never seen you raise your hand against anyone.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m not capable of it.” I felt the corners of my mouth twitch. I had no intention of killing anyone, but I could if I had to.

“How can you even stand to have one of his kind in your house?”

“He’s a man, just like you and me.”

“No, he’s—“

“Jak. His blood runs as red as mine. His heart beats as surely as yours does. I will treat him no less than I would any other man.”

He sighed. “As stubborn as ever.”

“A man does not deserve to be judged by the color of his hair.”

“Do you know how much trouble you’re getting yourself into by housing him?”

“There are no laws against it.”

“There might as well be,” he muttered. “It will bring suspicion down on you. People will make assumptions.”

“What assumptions do you mean?” I asked him coldly, a glint of anger running through my voice.

He clenched his jaw, but didn’t answer my question. I wasn’t sure if that meant he didn’t know, or if he just didn’t want to say it. I had the feeling I knew what he meant. People always assumed the worst.

“I won’t abandon him on the street to die.”

“So you’ll keep him here and die with him instead.”

“This isn’t something you can change my mind on, Jak,” I said firmly.

“You are such a fool sometimes,” he said softly in resignation. His voice was almost kind again. “Here, sit down, let me help you with that.” He took the rag from me again and dipped it back into the bucket of cold water. He perched precariously on one of the rickety chairs and took my chin in his hand. “Do you have any more of that ointment?”

“Mm,” I muttered in assent, gesturing vaguely over to the cabinet. He grabbed the half-empty jar and began spreading it over my jaw. The pain instantly dimmed, fading to a faint, but constant throb.

“I don’t want to have to do this more than once.”

“I hope it won’t be necessary for you to.” His forehead furrowed at my words, but he didn’t pause with what he was doing. When he was done, he lowered his hands, almost awkwardly, and refused to look me in the eye.

Three loud crashes sounded on the door. I started as a loud voice bellowed, “Open up, in the name of the Crown!”