FictionPress.com - let the words flow
| FictionPress.com - let the words flow |
|
| Home Just In Communities Forums Beta Readers Dictionary Search | Login Register Extras |
“Disgracing the Lion”
Written for my English class with the intent of a sequel. Who knows when or if that sequel will be written.
Bare? His eyes snapped open, and unconsciously his fist rose, blanket clutched in his fingers, to his face. There was nothing between his body and the quilt. ‘Where am I?’ The room was plain and simple. The bed was the centerpiece, covered in cream colored sheets and pillows. On the side was a dresser and one small window all the way up on the wall. To the right was a chest of drawers, all with key holes.
A wave of ill content from an unknown source swept through him. The hairs on the back of his neck rose. The childish urge to hide beneath his blanket was nearly overwhelming.
“Ah, you are awake!” The door as the foot of the bed opened and a tall man had walked through. Something seemed off; the man seemed young, but his waist-length hair was shimmering silver. Eyes, a bright cat green, were slightly hidden behind small silver frames. He was leering at the teen.
Completely unaware of the boy’s staring, he shut the door with his heel and carried in a tray of food that he set on the bedside table. The silver-haired man then sat at the edge of the bed, the leery smile still in place. “Oh, where are my manners? You’re probably so confused.” Without bothering to offer the boy any clothing, he arranged the tray on the boy’s lap and started stroking the boy’s hair in an unnerving manner.
Bite. No. He felt his skin crawling wherever the man touched. ‘I have to get out of here.’
“You have taken quite a bump to the head. I wouldn’t be surprised in your memory was affected. Tell me, do you recall anything?” Still with that incessant touching.
Anything? That’s rather vague. I seem to recall having clothes… Thousands of thoughts raced through his head, but he couldn’t grasp them; they slipped through his fingers. “Anarchy is the course in which man will cause its own destruction.” Where did that come from?
Even the man seemed confused for a moment before throwing on a smile, “Quite the intellectual aren’t we? How about family, friends, maybe your own name?”
His mind had grayed out. Nothing tangible except for one little word… Leon…Some family perhaps or maybe my own name? I suppose it will do. Leon glanced up and said smoothly, “I don’t remember…”
“Nothing? Hmm, this is odd. Keep talking, my dear; let’s just see how much you know.”
“Uh…A government should be neither completely loved nor feared, because love will have the people turn on it at the slightest problem, and fear will cause anger and then hate…”
Through out the questioning, those cat-like eyes never left his own. “You can remember passages from books, theories from scholars and yet not your own name?” He had stood up and began pacing.
A few minutes of silence finally made the boy speak up, “Can I have my clothes?”
“Your clothes? Oh, no need to worry, you won’t be needing them.” Leon felt distinctly uncomfortable at that. Bells made a soft tolling in the distance. “Oh, 12 already? I suppose I’ll need to be leaving….” Then he muttered with a soft sigh, “A father’s work is never done.” He left, and Leon might have never felt so relieved.
He had been too distracted to eat before, and now he felt too sick to even consider it. Escape. He set the tray aside and stood, yanking the sheets from the bed. He wrapped them about like a toga, creeped to the door, and eased the door open.
The room was covered in shelves full of jars. The jars were filled with things that his mind refused to acknowledge. On the far wall was a large ornamental cross with runes etched into the metal. For some reason, this scared him more than the disgusting jars. However, below this cross was a large, unlit fire pit with scraps of cloth. He avoided looking at the cross while sifting through the pile. Leon found a plain white button-up shirt and slightly stiff pair of pants, both covered in soot. ‘Familiar. My own?’ He looked straight at the cross and stepped to it. These runes… I feel like I should know them…
There were two other doors besides the one he came from. One was surrounded by windows. Probably goes outside. The other was worn an old brown. Clothes bundled beneath his arm, he pressed his ear to the wood. Complete silence was all he got. Pulling back, his hand grasped the door knob, and he pushed it open. It was a large room with a queen-sized bed against one wall and a few dressers scattered about. His eyes were practically glued to a table with a pair of boots on it. Somehow he found himself seated at the table with the boots in his hands, lovingly caressing the ridges and bumps in the well worn leather. Even aged and worn as they were, he felt they were well taken care of.
They were a present from… He couldn’t get any further than that. The thought refused to be finished. How dare that man lay a hand on them …Snatching a rag off the table he began to meticulously clean them. There was a bottle of oil in one of the drawers. It was unlabeled, yet he poured the oil on the boots and began rubbing anyway. Don’t want water to leak through.
A while later, he pulled on the clothes and laced up the boots with speed and precision.
Time to leave.
As he stood up the tolling of bells signaled that was one in the afternoon. He felt a grip of panic in his chest.
Darting from the room, he shut the door behind him and ran for the front door. A flash of silver in the window caught his eye. The man was returning. He ran from the door and back to the room he woke up in. He jumped onto the low dresser and futilely tried to open the window. It was stuck.
A soft creak of the door made him freeze. He could hear the man’s soft footsteps from the other room. They were growing louder and closer. Hide. He scrambled to the bed and then pulled the blankets up to his neck, hiding his clothes. The door creaked open and man strode in, wearing a scapular with his hair done up in a high ponytail with a few strands brushing his face. A cleric?
The man’s eyes were drawn to the discarded tray. “Tsk, you didn’t eat any of it.” He reached out to brush the boy’s hair from his face, trailing fingers down his cheek and then his neck. Leon tried to calm himself as the cleric’s fingers brushed just a pinch before the shirt.
“I’ll fix you some more food. You need to help build up your strength so some rigorous activity won’t hurt you.” Cat green eyes were locked on to his own grey orbs as the cleric leered again before leaving the room.
When the door clicked shut, Leon jumped from the bed and clambered back onto the dresser, pounding on the window with such desperation that some god must have taken pity on him, and the window swung open. Peeking over, the ground was about seven below and he sighed in relief. Holding onto the ledge, he threw his legs over and flopped onto his stomach. His belly scratched against the brick as he slid down and then dropped.
Now on the open streets he knew he was lost, but he felt calm. Now to put some distance between us.
Leon jogged as straight out as he could, trying to keep from turning too much or becoming trapped and lost in the alleys. Soon he reached a forest, and that’s when the first little pangs began. His head swam for a moment and darkness overtook him. When the inky blackness disappeared, he was much further in the forest. There were trees on all sides, light only faintly making it through the thick canopy of green.
How did I get here?
Worried now, he glanced at every little detail. His hands hand become much dirtier, his shirt had a large brown stain near the shoulder. He could faintly see buildings behind him and assumed that was the direction he came from. In one final act to keep his sanity, he broke off large pieces of bark from one of the trees nearby and took a large breath before passing by it. He would know where he had been now.
Several minutes of aimless wandering in what he assumed to be a straight path, he met a single human inhabitant of the forest.
She was about as tall as him, with yellowish eyes and black hair cascading down her back. Her waist flared out, hugged tightly by her hide skirt.
“Are you lost?”
Possibly… Not that I have a specific location…
“Are you mute?”
His head was starting to pound again, a deep pain that seemed to resonate from between his eyes. His thoughts were running rampant. He could grasp them all, but they were replaced too quickly. It made him feel like he was swimming. The girl had faded from his vision and was replaced with that inky blackness. Long strands of white symbols circled around him in a language he couldn’t comprehend.
“Are you ok?”
Leon blinked, and his normal vision returned; the girl was only a few inches from him.
“Come on,” she took his hand. “I’ll lead you back to Molot,” she started walking. “Someone should be able to help you there.”
He stood rigid, and she turned back to him. “What’s wrong?”
Leon swallowed before speaking with a scratchy voice, “I need to go somewhere with… a library, a large one…” Why did I say a library? It would be well to assume that the homely little city he just came from would not have one. He needed information, and people were too untrustworthy. These little reasons calmed him somewhat, but it was upsetting that his own mind seemed to be betraying him.
She paused and thought about it for a moment, a finger to her chin. “Well, you can go to Cheve. It has the largest library in Pironos.”
“… Which way is it?” Cheve, that sounds so familiar…
She pointed off into the forest, “It’s a bit northwest of here. If you walk through this forest for a day or so, you should end up there.”
“Thank you…” Leon gently removed himself from her grip and started to walk off. There was an ‘umph’ and something dropped behind him. When he turned around, his eyes widened unbelievingly as he took a small step back.
The cleric dusted himself off and smiled at both of them before turning to the girl, his smile only shaking slightly. “Thank you my dear, for taking care of my patient. I was so worried when I came home to find him gone. He is terribly ill you know, mental.” He laughed.
“Oh, my, will he be ok?”
She can’t be that naïve!
“Yes, of course, of course.” The cleric turned to Leon so he could lead him back to the town, but Leon had already about-faced and ran. His only thought was to keep as much distance between him and that cleric. The branches scratched at his face but he refused to turn; hope was keeping the direction he needed to make it to the next city-- hopefully too far for this perverted cleric!
The trees were getting smaller and more numerous. Leon spotted a thick one and took a leap of faith to the lowest branch, quickly pulling himself up until the foliage was so thick that he could not see the forest floor. He pressed himself against the trunk and forced his breath to slow. His lungs hurt from the mild exertion. The cleric had been right-- he was not fit for rigorous activity right now.
A small crack came from near by. Leon held his breath as light foot steps made there way slowly to his tree. They circled around the tree and came to a stop directly under him. I’m caught.
And then the footsteps moved away from him. The breath burst from his lung and he let his head fall to the side, laughing almost manically in relief. The cleric didn’t find him!
His happiness was short lived however as his vision swam with ink once more and he felt his body stop short of the ground as he fell into the harsh embrace of a hundred tiny branches.
“Oh my! You have me. I was so sure I would win too,” said his opponent dramatically. He was around his late twenties, his wiry red hair layered to his shoulders. He was dressed in a simply tailored suit of navy, made of expensive threads.
“You let him win, Uncle!” Another little boy shouted, as he peered at the table. “No one could beat you at chess!” He looked quite similar to his uncle, though his hair was a darker shade of auburn.
“I did no such thing. Leon must be getting better is all.” The uncle smiled, ruffling Leon’s hair.
The other boy flushed indignantly and grabbed Leon’s hand, tugging him away. “Let’s go play in the garden.”
“Cillian, you be careful. Leon just got over his cold,” said the uncle as he began to put the chess set away.
“I’ll be fine Uncle Matty, you always worry too much.” Leon smiled, running after Cillian as the slightly taller boy ran to the ornate glass doors that led to the gardens.
Leon was totally at a loss now that his destination has been reached. A loud screech echoed in his head, making him flinch and clutch at his ears desperately. And just as suddenly as it came, it faded. Library. I need to go to the library.
His feet carried him without thought down the cobbled roads, following the turns until he finally stood before a tall square building, held up by twisting columns that bordered the outside edge. Grey eyes glanced inconspicuously to both his left and right sides before he moved to the doors and stepped in. He did not question why he knew where he was going, only trusting the sense to get him through this.
After several flights of stairs, he was again before a set of large ornate doors. What could be in here? His hand twitched towards the door knob, but he forced himself to stop. I shouldn’t be going in there… Suddenly the instinctive feeling faded completely. No! Wait, I’ll go in, just please… don’t strand me here…
He put his hand on the knob again and started to turn it.
“You’re not allowed in there!”
Leon turned around to look at the boy behind him. Perhaps boy was a bit off, for even though the voice sounded as if it’s owner had just hit puberty, the kid behind him was probably around sixteen, the same age as Leon.
Now that he had Leon’s attention, the kid spoke up a bit more confidently, “Only librarians are aloud in there.” He adjusted his thick rimmed glasses on his nose, “It’s a private store.”
Private? So there would be rare books in there… I have to get in there. The instinct had come back. “So I’ll become a librarian,” the brunette said simply.
The kid laughed obnoxiously, “You think you could become a librarian!? You?”
Leon glanced down at his clothes and could see the problem. His clothing was torn and filthy. He was surprised someone hadn’t pulled him off the street and questioned him. He kept his voice calm, “What are the requirements?”
The kid adjusted his glasses again, caught off guard. “Requirements? Well, um… you need to be…refined! And um, clean. Intelligent. Know how to read and write…”
“So I’ll only need clothing…” Leon trailed off.
“What?”
Leon looked up sharply, “Where can I make some gold quickly?”
“I, uh …” The kid seemed so confused, eyes wide and face flushed. Leon did not even want to know what was going on in his head. Leon sighed, shaking his head and walked off, leaving the kid behind.
The brunette ran down the stairs until he reached the front desk and quickly asked the woman behind it. “Do you know where I could get information on current job openings?”
He tied the headdress thing underneath his hair and picked at the lacy apron he was wearing over the knee length dress. “God I hate myself.”
The job was thankless, but simple minded. Leon only had to dust the shelves, mop the floors, and do dishes. This pattern did not change until the very last day, when the master of the house asked him to bring tea to the study.
Why the hell do we need these large, ornate serving trays for one little tea cup? He balanced the tray carefully between his hand and elbow while using his other arm to open the study doors. Kicking it open with his toe, clacking the short black heels on the marble flooring, he walked over to set the tray down on a small side table by the master’s armchair.
“Your tea, sir.” Leon turned to leave as soon as he was sure that his message was heard.
“Leona, come here for a second.”
“Sir?”
The politician leered at him, and Leon felt his stomach drop. “How long have you been working for me now, Leona?”
“Nearly a week, Sir.” He made sure his voice was very cold.
The politician nodded slightly and reached out to put a hand on Leon’s waist. “And yet this is the first time me and you have met, am I right?”
“Yes…”
“And yet we have never been properly acquainted…” He slipped his hand down and started playing with the hem of Leon’s skirt.
“Sir… what are you doing?”
The hand was slipping beneath the skirt and was now brushing against his thighs. Without thinking, Leon grabbed the silver platter and bashed the politician over the head. The tea cup shattered on the ground and the politician passed out cold.
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Leon slipped out from the study, shutting the door quietly behind him and proceeded to hunt for the head maid, thinking to himself that he had found a reason for the large, ornate serving trays.
Leon was heading up to the top floors of the gigantic library, a large pile of books in hand. He started to put them in their proper places easily and efficiently. Each book was labeled with a floor number, shelf number, and then a row letter. It was fairly easy to get lost in the place, even with the numbers and signs to directing a person. Oddly enough, Leon traveled through the place as if he knew where everything was kept. It was not the instinct either because most of the time he didn’t need to pay attention to which way he was going. He could easily direct patrons to anything they needed.
Four days after he started working, he felt that it was the day…
Almost everyone was on the first floor after a patron had unwittingly knocked down a domino of shelves. Leon easily slipped up to the forth floor and searched in the back. He didn’t hesitate; heading straight for the private store, he opened the door and slipped in.
He had a few hours until someone would notice his absence.
His instinct was not gone, but it was faded, only telling him that his search was in the room but not what shelf. Unfortunately the room was large, consisting of many thick, old tomes.
He was sitting on the floor, his back against a shelf, piles of books around him. He pulled a tome off the pile and dusted off the cover. There was no title, but at the bottom edge it said in gold gilded letters, “Storm”.
Familiar. He flipped open the cover and parted to random pages, reading quickly. The brunette snapped the book shut and glanced around. He stood up, the book tucked beneath his arm and headed for the door.
Closing the door, he backed up and turned right into that same little librarian with the too big glasses. “What are you doing?” the kid asked quickly.
Leon was not prepared for a situation like this. He backed up, ready to run, trying to hide the book against his side, but the kid saw it.
“I knew it! You’re just some thief! Guards!” Leon bolted to the stair way and quickly started climbing down, skipping some steps. Once he was half way down the first flight, guards had started climbing up. There was no other way down.
“Get him!” The guards had spotted him, and he did not question why they had been so quick to come. Even in their hunking suits of armor, they were a lot faster than he. Leon had turned back to try to lose them in the book cases. He peeked down one aisle, saw no guards, and quickly ran passed it. When he was just about to sneak pass another one, he heard a shout behind him. He took off for the stairs again, but when he passed the last shelf, an arm reached out and grabbed him around the waist.
The child had short black hair that covered his icy blue eyes. He was wearing a large smile on his face. “It’s nice to meet you finally.”
Leon was only about four and a half inches tall, just a few inches shorter than his new brother who was short for a boy that just turned ten. His large grey eyes were filled with curiosity at his now permanent play mate.
They were alone in the garden, laughing as they ran around playing a game that only children could understand. Father had been so worried that we would not get along…
Leon had been dragged down here until he could face proper judgment. It was a small jail for petty criminals with a single guard in each hall. His particular hall was empty save for him and his guard.
Need to get out of here… Leon stood suddenly, idea in place and feeling rather disgusted at himself, he called out, “Guard.” When the guard appeared at his cell door, he made his eyes water up slightly and felt his face flush, almost as if he was use to this. “I’m not feeling so good. Do you think you could help me?” He was not sure if he should be grateful or not that the guard seemed interested.
“You can suffer in your cell until your judgment comes,” the guard bit out.
Leon was not about to give up and made a small whimpering noise, slipping down to the floor, holding his head. He started to slip the first few buttons off his shirt. “Its too hot in here…”
The guard was starting to reach for his keys. Why the hell do the creepy men have awkward fantasies of me? The cell door slid open, and the guard kneeled down to Leon’s level with a disgusting look on his face. The brunette’s hand quickly felt along the cell floor as the guard’s hands were reaching for him.
Leon found a nice sized rock and bashed the guard in the face with it. When the guard did not go down the first time, Leon kept hitting him until the guard’s screams stopped, and the blood had formed a nice halo around his head. Panting, Leon stood up, letting the rock drop from his hand and swallowing thickly. He quickly took the guard’s keys and slid the cell door shut, locking it behind him.
He couldn’t believe he had just done that. He forced himself not to think about it, quickly snuck out of the jail, and headed for the town gates with little incident. He could not stay here after what he had just done.
Leon had no idea where he was going; he just followed the worn path that went through forests, farming areas and across clearings. Eventually, he ended up at Fort Wind, the first line of defense against Everwinter. At least, that was what he was told by the merchants and other travelers that waited outside of the gates. A line was waiting to be let into the fort, and Leon quietly got in at the end. When he finally reached the front, the guard gave him an appraising look. “You, wait here.” Leon swallowed and calmed himself, looking at the ground.
After chatting with one of the nearby guards, the one stationed at the line came back. “You are under arrest.” A few of the travelers and merchants gasped almost in unison, and the guards locked manacles around his wrists, shoving him inside. Leon did not bother to struggle.
He was led by the arm rather gently, walking alongside a guard who took him inside a large guardhouse building. When they walked inside, most of the guards immediately stood and saluted, their fellows soon following suit. They were staring at him though, not at the guard.
As they headed into the back, they completely passed by the jail and walked into a well furnished room. A few guards were sitting there, all facing a larger and older fellow with a short blonde hair and a short, but thick, beard. His armor had a coat of arms on the breastplate. Everyone stopped talking once Leon’s presence had been noticed. “Sir, I found him by the gate.”
“Good work,” said the blonde one. Leon’s shackles were removed and, after a salute, all the regular guards left the room. “Well…” Leon’s attention snapped to the blonde. “I did not think we would find you this quickly.” Leon kept silent as the man walked toward him. He gestured to a chair. “Come sit; there is no reason to be so stiff right now.”
Now the brunette was confused. Why would they be treating a murderer like him in such a comfortable manner? He sat down in the plush armchair hesitantly and nearly jerked when the blonde began speaking again. “We were sure we were too late when news of the assassination had finally reached this area.” What the hell was going on? “Thankfully, it seemed you knew of it ahead of time and left.” The man seemed shaken, but smiled warmly, “We were so worried for you, Commander.”
Commander!? What the hell is he talking about?
“Your brother nearly had a fit when we could not find you.” The blonde chuckled at that. “But, nevertheless, this place is not safe for you anymore. We’ll have to take you back to the palace and place extra guards around for your protection.”
“Excuse me…” Leon said almost too softly. The man looked at him sharply, an eye brow raised in question. “I’m sorry, but… I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.”
“What do you mean?” Now the blonde seemed extremely worried.
“I…” Feeling unsure, especially now that he was in company that apparently knew him, Leon started hesitantly. “I have amnesia…”
The man sat down heavily, cradling his head in his hands. “Oh, god no.”
He was nearly a legend with his military knowledge and sharp wit, but no regular citizens had ever seen his face. It was a security measure. Because he was young and so important the royal guard had decided long ago to keep him secreted away. He had no formal schooling, only tutors as a child. His only living family was his half-brother, Alexei, who was still in Joseh, the capital of Pironos. That was all General Graham could tell him. And now, after learning of his illness, Graham was planning on shipping him out of the country.
“You’ll need to get out of here, to where you can be better protected. You’re too vulnerable here,” Graham told him as they sat around a large table with a map on it, a few other guards in the room. “We’ll ship you out to Everwinter for now. Your safety is of utmost important if we are to win this war, and the assassins won’t be expecting you to appear in their own country. I’ll have a friend of mine waiting in Fort Azuli for you. His name is Ren. He’ll take you to Jadecoast. Their country is officially neutral in this conflict, but his majesty has been bribing them for quite a while. You have a friend there, I believe, that strategist from the Greer family.” Some of the guards laughed slightly, and Graham shushed them quickly. “You should be able to stay there and keep out of this conflict until you are better.”
And thus Leon was carefully loaded into a caravan with a single disguised guard, and they took the week-long trip to the edge of Everwinter; to Fort Azuli.
He was literally dropped off at the gates, and the guard left him. The station was fairly similar here. There was a line at the gates, and he quickly got into it. Most of the people around him were elven. Their sharp faces and dark eyes were appraising him in a hostile manner. Humans were rare around this place, and even then, only humans from Jadecoast or who grew up in Everwinter. His more rounded Pironian features were quite strange where humans normally had angular faces.
Leon quickly took a step back as all the waiting people turned to look at him. A sharp pain blossomed in his face. A rock had split his lip. A few more of the gatherers were starting to pick up stones, throwing them in his direction and a few of them hitting their mark.
“Pironian scum!”
“You dare show your face in this country, devil?”
“Kill him!”
Leon shielded his head with his arms, crying out pathetically as each stone caught him. The sudden neighing of a horse caught everyone’s attention as the hooves stopped right before Leon’s huddled form. A robed form reached out a hand towards Leon. “Hurry, grab on!” Leon grabbed the hand and was pulled up into the saddle just as the horse raced off with a screech when a sharp stone hit its flank. The brunette clung to the form in front of him as the rider tried to calm the horse while urging it on.
When they were several hundred feet away from the crowd, the horse was finally slowed. “I hate elves, always so quick to judge.” He slipped off the hood and let out a thick man of red hair. He glanced back. “I’m assuming you’re Leon? Because this will be very bad if your not.”
“Yes… I am. And I guess this makes you Ren?”
“Right! Well, this makes things simple then.” Ren snapped the reins and the horse took off at nearly triple the speed. “We need to go to Rosa and get supplies, since we obviously can’t go back to Azuli. It will take us a few hours.” At Leon’s sudden clutch, he took a quick glance back, “Are you ok?”
Leon was clinging to his waist, deathly afraid of the speed they were moving. “Just… fine.”
After becoming well aquainted with Ren’s backside, Leon was finally able to get back on solid ground. Ren jumped down after him and led the horse into the city. “You behave, all right?” The redhead turned to Leon, flashing him a quick smile. “This’ll be much faster if you just wait here. Don’t worry, the people here aren’t as… racist.” And now he was left at the archway into city, by himself.
Great…
An hour later, Ren had still not come back. The city was barren except for a few stray merchants. Leon paced back and forth along a wall to one of the buildings, passing by a slim alleyway. That was when it suddenly turned black.
“Yes.”
“And we’re sure this is Strom?”
“Positive. We’ve been tracking him from Fort Wind.”
“Good.”
“Why do we need him? There must be far more intelligent people to use for the ritual.”
“Idiot!” The leader smacked the insolent figure. “Besides the fact that he is vulnerable and unguarded, Strom is probably one of the most intelligent people in Pironos.” He turned back to the table and pulled up a scroll, setting it up on a small table at Leon’s feet. “Let us begin then.”
Two figures on either side of Leon’s head shifted. A large grating noise was heard before a slab was lowered from the ceiling. The slab was stopped, just resting on Leon’s chest, and the figures held it still. The leader fiddled with some levers on the top of the slab. Millions of sharp needles pierced the skin of his chest and stomach, and Leon screamed. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes and some of the cloaked figures laughed.
“Little Lion of Pironos… How does it feel to suffer for your country instead of leading your unwitting people to their deaths?”
The slab was raised, and blood leaked from the shallow wounds dotting his body. A sob escaped his lips as a stinging fluid was spread along his wounds. Leon saw a faint glimmer of light from the corner of his eye and then a sharp cold spread from the palm on his left hand. Pain blossomed through every nerve in his palm. A shadowy figure had pierced Leon’s hand through with an ice pick. Small tremors were going through his fingers. He was sure e screamed, but could only faintly taste copper on the back of his tongue. His vision flickered. A large explosion came from somewhere outside.
“What was that?”
“They are supposed to be keeping the noise down! They know we are conducting a sensitive ritual down here!”
The sound of someone choking was heard nearby, and a door on the far wall swung open with a body flying through. It knocked over two of the figures and kept all the others’ attention as a dagger flew through and pierced the chest of the leader. The rest of the figures pulled out weapons and headed out the door. Five shots rang out and echoed before everything went silent. Leon attempted to turn his head, but couldn’t see anything out of the door. He tried to control his breathing as each little wound stung and brought tears to his eyes.
His wrists were freed and the brunette opened eyes that he did not even realize he had closed. “Oh, this is very bad…Hey there. You okay? What am I saying, of course you’re not.” Red was clouding his vision. “Don’t worry; you’re safe now. I have everything; we’ll patch you up and get headin’ out to Jadecoast.” He felt a jagged pain through his left arm, and gasped hoarsely. “Shh, it’s okay. We just need to slow the blood flow…”
“Ren?” Leon called out faintly. Thin arms slid beneath his knees and neck and hoisted him up.
“Come on, Leon; stay conscious, it’ll make this much, much easier.”
Why is it… these things keep happening to me? W\was Leon’s last thought before darkness again took over his vision.
“Everwinter has a large cult population. The lack of religious control lets them breed.”
Leon’s head was pounding, and the voices loud in his ears did not help. He raised a hand to rub at his forhead before turning onto his side and snuggling deeper beneath the blankets.
“Is he awake?”
“Lucid. Don’t fret, all right? I need you to go to Joseh and keep a close eye on the local politics.”
“But I just got out of that damn city! You heard about the lock down. King James was just about to mobilize troops and did not want a single soul getting out that could warn Everwinter.”
“That and his precious Lion had disappeared.”
Leon let his eyes crack open and saw two redheaded young men talking near the bed he laid in. One was definitely Ren. He was sans his cloak and was instead wearing some sort of black garb that was strapped tight to his frame with a variety of pockets and belts. Leon felt an odd wave of recognition. He’s some sort of spy or thief! The other redhead he felt was extremely familiar; the name was on the tip of his tongue . He was definitely the same age as Leon and probably only a few inches taller. The young man was wearing a black button-up ruffle shirt and slacks with brown loafers. His more auburn red hair was combed neatly away from his face.
“Is Jadecoast going to announce its allegiance soon?”
“Yes. King James has no idea that we have not even been considering allying with Pironos. And I doubt General Graham even suspects you as our informer.”
“Cillian…” The two redheads looked at him, and Leon did not even realize that he had spoken aloud, nor did he understand why or what he had said. The auburn-haired youth came to the edge of his bed and kneeled down.
“Leon? Are you finally awake?”
Ren coughed slightly, “I’ll begin heading out now.”
‘Cillian’ nodded, “Your exact mission plans are with Brenda.”
With that Ren left the room.
The redhead grabbed a chair and pulled it to the head of the bed. “Leon, I’m Cillian Greer. Before your father let you stay at the Strom manor in Pironos, you basically grew up here, in Jade City. This is the Greer house. My uncle, Mathew, raised you, my older sister Brenda, my younger brother Dieter, and me. We’ve known each other practically from birth.”
Leon struggled into a sitting position, most of his body ached, and his hand was throbbing. Cillian helped him prop pillows behind his back while continuing his story.
“When the war was just starting a year ago, King James called me to Pironos. He wanted me to join as your assistant tactician.” He bit his lip slightly before continuing, “When I told the king that I refused, he thought I was being arrogant of my skills. In truth, Jadecoast was already secretly supporting Everwinter and I was not going to fight against my own country.” Cillian paused for a moment. “I was to be executed.”
Leon looked up suddenly at that. He was not quite sure why, but his chest ached at the thought.
Cillian gave him a small smile, “You pleaded for my life. Eventually, they decided to just keep me as a prisoner, a bargaining tool maybe for Jadecoast’s allegiance.” The auburn haired youth looked at Leon, “You probably remember nothing of that time, do you?”
Leon’s mind was filled with images of two writhing bodies in a posh jail cell. After hours of lying upon the soft bed, murmuring nonsense to each other, they detangled and sneaked out of the jail, where one was carried away by horses. Warmth filled his cheeks and Cillian chuckled quietly. “I see you do remember, at least somewhat. That’s good. I would be terribly upset if you had forgotten that night.”
Cillian shifted onto the bed and sat face to face with Leon. He wrapped an arm around Leon’s shoulder and the brunette leaned forward automatically until their foreheads were touching. This felt as if it was a common occurrence, something that was done long before. “We’re going to get you better, Leon. You’ve been hurt badly. Those fools in Everwinter tortured you, and it has left you with little strength. You’re going to need several days of rest before you’ll be able to leave this house.”
“We… Do Brenda and Dieter still live here?” Leon vaguely could remember the tomboyish Brenda who was two years his senior, and then Dieter who was a typical annoying little brother.
“Technically, yes. Brenda is here right now, but Dieter tends to run off randomly. I wouldn’t spare his freedom, though. He is one of the best intel gatherers I’ve ever seen.” Cillian gave him an appraising look. “You seem to remember this family, though it is odd that you cannot remember your flesh and blood one.”
“I… was always closer to yours than I ever was with mine.” Images of the small family, all redheaded except for Leon, filtered through. “What about…Uncle Mathew?”
Cillian looked away, eyes hooded. “We haven’t seen him for more than a year…”
The brunette considered his move carefully before playing his pawn in a very bold first move, opening the path for his queen.
Brenda was the only one that never seemed to be too busy to keep him company. Cillian was worrying his hair grey about the war. Dieter had shown up once and then left just as quickly.
Brenda was probably more masculine than her brothers in many respects too. As a human in an Anima nation, she had an advantage that most human females were rarely even allowed to think about. Human nations tended to run very Patriarchal and Elven nations were a bit more balanced though sometimes leaned Matriarchal. Anima, because their race varied so wildly, cared little for sex based governments.
Anima were supposedly created when humans and elves found themselves trapped in one of the more dangerously magical forests. Certain flowers tended to release toxins, some of which may cause things as simple as lust or complicated as love between any creatures that may unwittingly wander too close. This of course led to some interesting bestial relations. This is only a theory of where most of the anima came from; a theory that most of their kind did not appreciate. Strangely enough, they were never very animal like in appearance. Most of them take distinctly human faces and bodies, only sometimes including oddly-shaped ears, long tails, thick fur, sharp claws, and animal-like eyes. They also gain the abilities from their supposedly animal parents, allowing them to hear, see, jump, and climb much better than their human parents.
Because females and males of the Anima culture did not have very distinct roles, Brenda was allowed to have tutors, like her brothers, only in different subjects. Her mind, unlike her fore mothers and fathers, did not run in the same strategic line as most Greers. She made up for it with her exceptionally powerful presence and mastery with the rapier.
She was still very beautiful. Her long coppery hair was held in a high, loose ponytail. She wore a navy-colored overcoat, obviously with males intended, but it was tailored to her form. She also wore pants and slacks, preferring them to skirts because she considered them too cumbersome.
Brenda slid the pawn in front of her bishop two spaces, before Cillian threw open the doors and walked briskly pass them, out the glass doors, and into the gardens. He would occasionally lash out at the air in front of him or tear at his hair. Brenda gave him a sad look, turning back to Leon. “He’s so worried about this war… He doesn’t like to admit it, but he’s grown far too attached to this country and its citizens. It’s different to fight a war in a country you feel nothing for.”
Leon also stared at Cillian’s frustrated form sadly. “I wish there was something more I could do to help.” As it was, his left hand was still heavily bandaged, and hung limp from a sling.
When Brenda noticed the tear tracks on Cillian’s cheeks, she stood up. “I think we’d better postpone this game temporarily…” She carefully walked outside and behind her brother. It was odd to notice that even now, with her thick soled boots, she was taller than Cillian by about an inch. They began to talk, Brenda seeming to radiate calmness, but Cillian seemed to grow a bit more frantic with each word, until he said something that even made Brenda look shocked. With a sort of silent understanding, they both turned to walk back inside the study. Cillian stood quietly by Leon’s chair, face looking vaguely grim.
“King Trent demands me to make you a prisoner.”
Leon looked as if he was going to be ill. The smell of blood and gurgling screams came back to him. “Why? Does he think I am a threat, even injured as I am?”
“Yes. Your injuries matter little to his thinking. Your mind is his true worry. You never were a very formidable fighter.” Cillian sighed, voice sounding thick. “There is an alternative.”
“What do you mean?” Leon asked cautiously. Alternative methods brought up vaguely disgusting feelings.
Brenda had pushed her chair near Cillian, nudging the back of his legs until he let himself fall ungracefully into it. “Jadecoast is announcing it’s allegiance to Everwinter soon. This will probably be the official start of bloodshed and real battles. His majesty asks that you either join us, or be sent to prison.”
At Leon’s startled look, Cillian continued, “I… would prefer you’d choose the former option. If not for your own comfort than perhaps for my own state of mind…” He looked up at Leon pleadingly. “You know King James is a tyrant who cares little for his own soldiers. He only wants to destroy Everwinter, and now Jadecoast with it.”
“I won’t argue with you on this. I remember little but suffering, both my own and others, while living in Pironos. My memory fails me sometimes, but the feeling is still there.” Leon picked at the bandages on his hand. “I trust you, a lot more than I could say for anyone currently living in Pironos.” Somehow they had fallen into that familiar position again; their foreheads were touching and Cillian had cupped Leon’s hands in his own. Brenda had made herself scarce sometime earlier. “I doubt I will be of much help, but I’ll join you.”