Blade Archer ~ Twenty-Six
Mar. 12th, 2013 07:50 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yraeStepping onto the balcony, Kael was confronted with three welcoming smiles. They were smiles he recognised well, smiles he often saw around the palace, in the healing house, from merchants at the markets, polite and open, but just a little too open. They smiled because they knew things would work to their benefit if they did, not because they were genuinely pleased to see him. He offered the same smile in return.
Ronanen, hands full with her beer and glass, pressed her arm against his in comfort. ‘This is Kael,’ she introduced, face beaming and likely completely ignorant of the judgement in her family’s smiles. ‘Kael, this is my mother and father, Dailen and Elak, and my sister Ineli.’
The three family members nodded in turn. Dailen, a diminutive woman with her hair cut in short waves, set her glass on the table and stood to walk over to Kael and welcome him more formally. Her smile looked more real now, and she hooked her arms around his waist in a hug.
‘Dear boy,’ she said warmly. ‘I’m so sorry to hear about your mother. If there’s anything you need, you only need to ask.’
Kael gripped the glass and bottle a little tighter. ‘Thanks,’ he murmured. ‘I don’t want to talk about it, though.’
‘Still raw?’ Dailen asked, pulling away. She looked up at him with a sympathetic smile. ‘Poor dear. We won’t mention it again.’
Elak, a stern looking man with pointed eyebrows, patted the seat beside him. His mouth didn’t look like one used to smiling. ‘Take a seat, pour yourself a beer and tell us about yourself,’ he offered. ‘How long have you got left of your training?’
‘Three years,’ Kael answered as he sat down and pulled the crown off his beer. He poured it carefully, holding the glass sideways as he’d seen the bartenders at the Charging Nira do a hundred times.
‘A friend of mine has a son in training,’ Elak went on, clearly grasping at this common ground. ‘Next year will be his final year. Do you mingle at all with the other year levels?’
Kael shook his head and set the empty bottle on the table. ‘Don’t mingle with me own level that much,’ he answered.
He could see Ineli, Ronanen’s sister, sneering at his language and the four scars on the back of his wrist. Kael drummed his fingers against his knee, just to let her know he’d noticed.
‘I’ll bet that’s part of the reason,’ the older girl sneered.
‘Neli!’ her mother snapped. ‘That’s quite enough! Kael is our guest here tonight. The poor boy is already intimidated enough without you adding to it, young lady.’
Kael shrugged and took a mouthful of his beer. It wasn’t as strong as the palace brew, for which he was grateful, but he knew he wouldn’t be downing it as quickly as Ronanen’s family would. ‘Nah, fair question,’ he allowed. ‘Yeah, I’m a southerner. They’re just what ye thinks they are, and I ain’t losing any fingers over any more of it, neither. That’s me past. I got a job now, and in three years I’ll be a legit blade archer and none of that’ll matter.’
Far from being appalled, as he’d expected, Ineli’s lips spread in an intrigued grin. ‘So what are they all for, then?’
Kael passed his glass to his lips again to buy him time. Every one of them was for a mugging outside a pub, but he knew such an admission wouldn’t be well received. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. ‘If I like ye, may just be I’ll tell ye.’
‘That’s enough, Neli,’ Dailen warned again. The reprimand sounded so much like Kael’s mother that he flinched a little, hiding the movement as he straightened back in his chair.
The evening passed as well as he could have expected, and by the end of dinner he almost felt comfortable in their presence, though he still felt that every word he spoke was being judged.
Ineli tried to grab at as many seedy details of his life as she could, but it seemed to Kael that she was more curious and fascinated by life on the other side of the Main Road than disgusted by it. She was, in a lot of ways, just like Elara. She knew what she wanted and tried as many ways as she knew how to get it. By evening’s end, she knew he was a thief and a pickpocket, but he didn’t tell her how he and his siblings had mugged people and held knives to their throats. Let them think it was all for the thrill and the danger. They didn’t need to know he’d needed it to survive.
The reminiscing, the similarities between Ineli and Elara, the occasional mannerisms from Dailen so like his own mother, the odd half-mention of Kael’s mother followed by an awkward silence that someone filled with an obvious attempt to change the subject… eventually it all weighed heavily on Kael, until he lost track of the conversation and fell into his own thoughts. He was looking again at the scars on his wrist, remembering the frantic running with his brother and sister to escape the Talons, when he realised Elak had asked him a question.
‘Hmm?’ he said, lifting his head. ‘Lost meself, sorry.’
‘I was just asking after your father,’ Elak repeated. ‘He was a fisherman, you were saying? I know a fisherman. Good man. His name’s Wothen. Could be they were friends, eh?’
‘Mm,’ Kael grunted half-heartedly. The word orphan blew over him in a rolling wind. In all the horror that had passed, he hadn’t realised that before. Orphan was the loneliest word in the Raykinian language. ‘I’m an orphan,’ he murmured.
The silence in the room echoed around him, this time unfilled by any trivial topic-changing comment.
Kael pushed himself hurriedly to his feet and strode back out onto the balcony, leaving a mumbled apology in his wake. Outside, he rested his back against the wall, relishing its chill through the fabric of his shirt, and stared fiercely up at the stars. They stayed focussed. He wouldn’t allow them to blur behind any tears.
He had only been outside a few moments when Ronanen rushed out to him and held him in a tight hug. ‘You’re not alone,’ she promised him. ‘You still have your brother and sister, right? And I know it isn’t the same, but you have my mother and father now, too.’
Kael’s breath hitched at the mention of his sister, but he couldn’t correct Ronanen, not without telling her everything. ‘That’s just it,’ he said, holding his voice as steady as he could. He sniffed, but he was relieved at least that he wasn’t crying. ‘They’re just reminding me of everything I’ve lost.’
Ronanen pressed her head against his shoulder. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll ask them to be more careful.’
‘No, I mean just…’ He floundered, looking up again at the stars as he searched for the words. ‘Just by being a ma and pa. Yer pa’s nothing like mine was, but he’s reminding me of him anyway.’ He had thought he was over the loss of his father, at least. Maybe it was everything compounded, the knowledge that his father’s death had inevitably led to his mother’s.
‘You’re doing well,’ she said softly. ‘You’re doing so well. We’ll get through this. You’re not alone.’
Kael took a few deep breaths and released the healer. ‘I’m good,’ he said. ‘Ready to head off, though.’
Ronanen smiled as she took his hand. ‘Me, too,’ she agreed. ‘I have the spare room set up for you.’
It was the first time Kael had ever slept in a bed, but he hardly even noticed the softness of the feather-filled mattress beneath him or the sheets covering him. Moments after his head rested against the pillow, the exhaustion of the day and heaviness of the evening sent him deeply to sleep.
It was with reluctance that he awoke the next morning. He was surrounded by softness and warmth, the gentle caress of the cotton sheets. How did Ni-Yana’s upper class ever wake up with such an embrace every morning?
‘How did you sleep?’ Ronanen’s voice was concerned and quite close by. Kael cracked an eye open to see her sitting beside his bed.
‘Still am,’ he croaked in his gruff morning voice, letting his eye slip closed again. ‘I never slept on a bed before.’ Ronanen curled his hair from his forehead, making him twitch. ‘I’m never moving again.’
Ronanen laughed softly as she played with his hair, combing the knots from it with her fingers. He gave a happy murmur as her nails tingled over his scalp. ‘You’ll have to go to training soon,’ she reminded him.
‘Later,’ he excused. ‘It’s only palu training ‘til lunch.’
‘All the same,’ Ronanen chided. ‘You still have to pass the palu exam, no matter how good you are at blade archery.’
Kael grunted. ‘Ye’ve been listening.’
‘Mhmm.’ She slapped one hand against his back and shook him to get him moving. ‘Come on. You can walk me to work at the same time.’
He groaned and reluctantly pushed himself up onto hands and knees, then hung his legs over the edge of the bed, yawning and rubbing his eyes with the heel of one hand.
Ronanen was still there when he opened his eyes. ‘I sleep naked,’ he warned, glancing down at the sheet he’d deliberately left covering his lap.
The naïve young healer widened her eyes momentarily, then hid a cheeky grin behind one hand. ‘Maybe later,’ she said, and quickly ducked out of the room.
Kael laughed after her and whipped the sheet off to get dressed.
~ ~ ~
I hope nobody actually expected this thing to actually be 50k. I'm at 44-ish right now and. Well. It's not getting finished in 6000 words, let me say that. Damnit there's so much more going on in this kid's life than just training. AND THE TRAINING'S WRONG ANYWAY. What stupid army training program doesn't start teaching your weapon of choice until fourth year? ONE DESIGNED BY A NINETEEN-YEAR-OLD GIRL THAT'S WHAT.
Ronanen, hands full with her beer and glass, pressed her arm against his in comfort. ‘This is Kael,’ she introduced, face beaming and likely completely ignorant of the judgement in her family’s smiles. ‘Kael, this is my mother and father, Dailen and Elak, and my sister Ineli.’
The three family members nodded in turn. Dailen, a diminutive woman with her hair cut in short waves, set her glass on the table and stood to walk over to Kael and welcome him more formally. Her smile looked more real now, and she hooked her arms around his waist in a hug.
‘Dear boy,’ she said warmly. ‘I’m so sorry to hear about your mother. If there’s anything you need, you only need to ask.’
Kael gripped the glass and bottle a little tighter. ‘Thanks,’ he murmured. ‘I don’t want to talk about it, though.’
‘Still raw?’ Dailen asked, pulling away. She looked up at him with a sympathetic smile. ‘Poor dear. We won’t mention it again.’
Elak, a stern looking man with pointed eyebrows, patted the seat beside him. His mouth didn’t look like one used to smiling. ‘Take a seat, pour yourself a beer and tell us about yourself,’ he offered. ‘How long have you got left of your training?’
‘Three years,’ Kael answered as he sat down and pulled the crown off his beer. He poured it carefully, holding the glass sideways as he’d seen the bartenders at the Charging Nira do a hundred times.
‘A friend of mine has a son in training,’ Elak went on, clearly grasping at this common ground. ‘Next year will be his final year. Do you mingle at all with the other year levels?’
Kael shook his head and set the empty bottle on the table. ‘Don’t mingle with me own level that much,’ he answered.
He could see Ineli, Ronanen’s sister, sneering at his language and the four scars on the back of his wrist. Kael drummed his fingers against his knee, just to let her know he’d noticed.
‘I’ll bet that’s part of the reason,’ the older girl sneered.
‘Neli!’ her mother snapped. ‘That’s quite enough! Kael is our guest here tonight. The poor boy is already intimidated enough without you adding to it, young lady.’
Kael shrugged and took a mouthful of his beer. It wasn’t as strong as the palace brew, for which he was grateful, but he knew he wouldn’t be downing it as quickly as Ronanen’s family would. ‘Nah, fair question,’ he allowed. ‘Yeah, I’m a southerner. They’re just what ye thinks they are, and I ain’t losing any fingers over any more of it, neither. That’s me past. I got a job now, and in three years I’ll be a legit blade archer and none of that’ll matter.’
Far from being appalled, as he’d expected, Ineli’s lips spread in an intrigued grin. ‘So what are they all for, then?’
Kael passed his glass to his lips again to buy him time. Every one of them was for a mugging outside a pub, but he knew such an admission wouldn’t be well received. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. ‘If I like ye, may just be I’ll tell ye.’
‘That’s enough, Neli,’ Dailen warned again. The reprimand sounded so much like Kael’s mother that he flinched a little, hiding the movement as he straightened back in his chair.
The evening passed as well as he could have expected, and by the end of dinner he almost felt comfortable in their presence, though he still felt that every word he spoke was being judged.
Ineli tried to grab at as many seedy details of his life as she could, but it seemed to Kael that she was more curious and fascinated by life on the other side of the Main Road than disgusted by it. She was, in a lot of ways, just like Elara. She knew what she wanted and tried as many ways as she knew how to get it. By evening’s end, she knew he was a thief and a pickpocket, but he didn’t tell her how he and his siblings had mugged people and held knives to their throats. Let them think it was all for the thrill and the danger. They didn’t need to know he’d needed it to survive.
The reminiscing, the similarities between Ineli and Elara, the occasional mannerisms from Dailen so like his own mother, the odd half-mention of Kael’s mother followed by an awkward silence that someone filled with an obvious attempt to change the subject… eventually it all weighed heavily on Kael, until he lost track of the conversation and fell into his own thoughts. He was looking again at the scars on his wrist, remembering the frantic running with his brother and sister to escape the Talons, when he realised Elak had asked him a question.
‘Hmm?’ he said, lifting his head. ‘Lost meself, sorry.’
‘I was just asking after your father,’ Elak repeated. ‘He was a fisherman, you were saying? I know a fisherman. Good man. His name’s Wothen. Could be they were friends, eh?’
‘Mm,’ Kael grunted half-heartedly. The word orphan blew over him in a rolling wind. In all the horror that had passed, he hadn’t realised that before. Orphan was the loneliest word in the Raykinian language. ‘I’m an orphan,’ he murmured.
The silence in the room echoed around him, this time unfilled by any trivial topic-changing comment.
Kael pushed himself hurriedly to his feet and strode back out onto the balcony, leaving a mumbled apology in his wake. Outside, he rested his back against the wall, relishing its chill through the fabric of his shirt, and stared fiercely up at the stars. They stayed focussed. He wouldn’t allow them to blur behind any tears.
He had only been outside a few moments when Ronanen rushed out to him and held him in a tight hug. ‘You’re not alone,’ she promised him. ‘You still have your brother and sister, right? And I know it isn’t the same, but you have my mother and father now, too.’
Kael’s breath hitched at the mention of his sister, but he couldn’t correct Ronanen, not without telling her everything. ‘That’s just it,’ he said, holding his voice as steady as he could. He sniffed, but he was relieved at least that he wasn’t crying. ‘They’re just reminding me of everything I’ve lost.’
Ronanen pressed her head against his shoulder. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll ask them to be more careful.’
‘No, I mean just…’ He floundered, looking up again at the stars as he searched for the words. ‘Just by being a ma and pa. Yer pa’s nothing like mine was, but he’s reminding me of him anyway.’ He had thought he was over the loss of his father, at least. Maybe it was everything compounded, the knowledge that his father’s death had inevitably led to his mother’s.
‘You’re doing well,’ she said softly. ‘You’re doing so well. We’ll get through this. You’re not alone.’
Kael took a few deep breaths and released the healer. ‘I’m good,’ he said. ‘Ready to head off, though.’
Ronanen smiled as she took his hand. ‘Me, too,’ she agreed. ‘I have the spare room set up for you.’
It was the first time Kael had ever slept in a bed, but he hardly even noticed the softness of the feather-filled mattress beneath him or the sheets covering him. Moments after his head rested against the pillow, the exhaustion of the day and heaviness of the evening sent him deeply to sleep.
It was with reluctance that he awoke the next morning. He was surrounded by softness and warmth, the gentle caress of the cotton sheets. How did Ni-Yana’s upper class ever wake up with such an embrace every morning?
‘How did you sleep?’ Ronanen’s voice was concerned and quite close by. Kael cracked an eye open to see her sitting beside his bed.
‘Still am,’ he croaked in his gruff morning voice, letting his eye slip closed again. ‘I never slept on a bed before.’ Ronanen curled his hair from his forehead, making him twitch. ‘I’m never moving again.’
Ronanen laughed softly as she played with his hair, combing the knots from it with her fingers. He gave a happy murmur as her nails tingled over his scalp. ‘You’ll have to go to training soon,’ she reminded him.
‘Later,’ he excused. ‘It’s only palu training ‘til lunch.’
‘All the same,’ Ronanen chided. ‘You still have to pass the palu exam, no matter how good you are at blade archery.’
Kael grunted. ‘Ye’ve been listening.’
‘Mhmm.’ She slapped one hand against his back and shook him to get him moving. ‘Come on. You can walk me to work at the same time.’
He groaned and reluctantly pushed himself up onto hands and knees, then hung his legs over the edge of the bed, yawning and rubbing his eyes with the heel of one hand.
Ronanen was still there when he opened his eyes. ‘I sleep naked,’ he warned, glancing down at the sheet he’d deliberately left covering his lap.
The naïve young healer widened her eyes momentarily, then hid a cheeky grin behind one hand. ‘Maybe later,’ she said, and quickly ducked out of the room.
Kael laughed after her and whipped the sheet off to get dressed.
~ ~ ~
I hope nobody actually expected this thing to actually be 50k. I'm at 44-ish right now and. Well. It's not getting finished in 6000 words, let me say that. Damnit there's so much more going on in this kid's life than just training. AND THE TRAINING'S WRONG ANYWAY. What stupid army training program doesn't start teaching your weapon of choice until fourth year? ONE DESIGNED BY A NINETEEN-YEAR-OLD GIRL THAT'S WHAT.