Chapter 2: Chapter Two—A New Start

Focusing on the passage of time was difficult—everything felt surreal and slown. I wasn’t in pain, but I was far from comfortable, which was outlying better than what I experienced on the ship. Anything was better than that floating hell.

A woman with delicate hands, and a soft, mumbling voice attentively cared for me. Hourly, she moved me around and smeared ointment over every inch of my body, which left my skin oily and uncomfortable. It seemed as if she never took a break. Her presence was felt often in the room in a way that was hard to describe. I knew she was there without hearing or seeing her.

It was well over a week before I heard or was able to consciously process English, likely the latter, and listened to her name spoken for the first time. When May wasn’t lathering things on me, she was pouring disgusting teas into my mouth, which at times caused me to gag. This reflex deterred her little from demanding I consumed every drop. May’s caring voice would often become stern if I resisted the medicine.

Weeks into my care, I was finally able to open my eyes to the beautiful, pale, auburn headed woman taking care of me. I had never seen someone with such light skin that borders on the line of transparency—my island population was of the darker skin tone, and my father was a weird one who travelled from the crown’s homeland to live with my mother but nowhere near her complexion.

May took a seat on the edge of the stiff wood bed, putting her slender hand out. “Hello, Cyrus,” she smiled as I weakly picked my hand up and gently clasped hers, which made her beam with excitement. “That m-much progress.”

I tried to speak, but it was no use, as I couldn’t muster the strength. She flipped a book open on her lap with enthusiasm. The freckles running across her nose were adorable; even her round facial structure made it hard to glance at her without smiling.

May caught me staring, and her silver eyes glimpsed over at me. “Smiling at m-me?” May playfully teased, and I returned my gaze to the wood ceiling. The boards slightly moved as the people above walked around, sending an ever so slight amount of dust trickling down. She patted the open book. “I was informed you speak English, so this makes things easier. The church wants me to teach you about Aurelia, but I think our time can be spent on b-b-better things. I hear n-natives do not know much about magica or things outside the island.”

I spent the next month learning basic information about the world from May. She would spend hours next to my bed reading to me, sometimes novels, but primarily educational things. With the church’s library at our disposal, May taught me about the world’s technology far from my reach on the Island.

Even though my father was from the crown land, he didn’t teach me much beyond how to speak and write English along with basic mathematics. Any worldly knowledge was from the few books my father arrived with in the Outlands when I was six. Apparently, there is this thing called magica, and it uses a fuel source called anima, which is the fire of our soul or something philosophical like that—it all sounded like crazy talk. However, I still listened because my island had spoken of men and women yielding elements.

My voice returned with enough energy to dress myself soon after. May wasn’t much older than me, turning seventeen during my treatment; unfortunately, this made her tending to me very embarrassing. I couldn’t make any worse of an introduction than this in my lifetime; reinventing the bar for cringe was a pastime of mine.

We soon began taking walks around the church to build my strength. It gave us plenty of time to chat, which was a learning experience. I had socialised with few people beyond pleasantries on my island, let alone a girl around my age.

“So, Cyrus,” May smiled, putting her hands behind her back in the white robe as we walked down the stone hallway. “I hope this is okay to ask, but you’re a little less dark than the other natives. I saw s-s-some the other day, and they were a different… shade?”

I looked over at May. “My father was from the crown land. He brought a camera to take pictures of the island for the government or something. Then came back six years after my mother had become pregnant. Father was a little shocked that he had a son. He brought a cat for her as a gift, but it ended up becoming mine.”

“Camera?” May asked, and I nodded.

“Yeah,” I said, putting my hands up to my face. “Like a snap, snap?”

May burst out laughing. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s real.”

She smirked at me. “Mhm.”

“It’s like freezing time onto paper,” I said, sighing. “I’m not crazy.”

“I believe you. I know we are really far behind on those things here. Our city’s j-j-job is to keep an eye on the Liches. P-p-people do not live here for fun.”

My head tilted. “Liches?”

“There’s this element user called The Liche King that can raise corpses. He can supposedly give the ability to others. The Liche King keeps an army huddle around the s-south for some reason which requires the crown’s attention. The military has made a life for themselves here and a once base has since formed into a city during their w-watch.”

“Interesting.”

“Did you and your father have a good relationship?” May asked as we turned a corner before concern fell over her face. “I shouldn’t ask you such personal things.”

I shook my head. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

May nodded at me. “You’ve just been v-v-very quiet. I wonder at times if you hate me.”

“Why would I hate you?”

May stopped turning to me. “Because you were taking away from your f-family.”

I was sure confusion was painted all over my face. “But you didn’t take me off the island. How can I hate you? You saved me. I am nothing but grateful for you,” I said, and May seemed a little taken aback by my words. A silence lingered, and I decided to keep the conversation going. “Father lived amongst what he considered a primitive society. He was adamant I learn to read and solve basic mathematics, but was abraded by my rapid comprehension of the advanced topics. Most likely because a native was more competent than him; we don’t get along well. My mother was just a pretty face, from what I could tell. She didn’t seem to do much on the Island. Everyone just kind of oddly took care of us as neither my father nor mother worked.”

“So, you’re royalty?”

I tittered. “No. We do not have royalty. Each island is led by one War Chief and one Peace Chief. Chiefs are chosen by a tribal council, which is usually voted in by the clan. My parents were not part of that,” I finished, and May nodded.

We continued our walks for months after that. Sometimes I would help her and carry a wood tray around so she could give others that disgusting tea. May seemed highly knowledgeable about medicine and, with that skill, had restored my lost vision to a level beyond its original state. It was a blessing just to get it back, but things soon started becoming sharper than before.

I soon formed what I discerned was a friendship with May, even if it appeared one-sided at times by me. How could I not? In the past six months, she had saved me and been my sole company in the temple. It was hard not to want all her time. Many of the other church girls avoided me altogether. I wasn’t sure if this was because I was native or not. It was like they were scared to talk to me rather than being prejudiced.

“You seem b-b-etter today,” May said, picking up my food tray. “Sorry, the cheese was so sour. Personally, I like it, but most don’t. It was a new recipe,” she said with a smile as a curly strand of hair fell forward.

I smiled, sipping from the wooden cup. May made excellent herbal tea—when there wasn’t medicine in it. The cup rested on my lap as I sat in the rocking chair facing the window. I stared at those tall stone buildings outside for days on end, watching as the blackbirds would land on the roofs, jumping around in the snow as I savoured the tea May brought me.

“It was delicious. You know I can’t dislike anything you make,” I smiled. She gave me a warm smile back—the cheese was horrible. It sent my face into an unattractive spasm the moment it touched my tongue; would I tell her? No, absolutely not. Chivalrous acceptance is an art form, one in which most never bother to paint.

“Let’s walk,” she said, offering her tiny hand out to me.

I grabbed her hand as we strolled down the hall, and the stained glass weakly illuminated the room in many colours. It certainly was a sight to see during the summer, I was told, especially when a blizzard wasn’t going on outside.

“I do hope I get to see the daylight through the glass once before I leave,” I said, glancing up.

“Unfortunately, you arrived as we were about to enter our months of d-d-darkness,” May said as she looked up, and the colours gave her skin some complexion.

We were stuck in the tail end of a polar night, winter, you could call it. The season’s transition meant months of nothing but darkness until summer arrived, bringing sunlight for a similar duration.

“Did you want to talk about something?” I asked as May continued to hold my hand, humming.

She let out a sigh. “The General wants you to report now. I told him six months was not enough, but he insisted.”

I halted on the red carpet, turning to May. “I knew this day would come soon. Thank you for everything. Seriously, you saved my life.”

May gave a strained smile. “And I dr-dr-dreaded it so—I had hoped he would release you from duty, but the war is not getting any better.”

“I heard most on that ship were pardoned from service,” I sighed, returning to our walk as May folded her hands in front of her white robe.

“Most were in their late twenties. Hardly any use after that disastrous trip—but a fifteen-year-old is a different story. You showed him resilience even at your age. That is a hard thing to pass up when desertion is at an all-time high,” May said with pride but also a hint of disappointment. She was always talking highly of me, which was flattering; I was her little miracle patient. “You’re also too mature for your own good,” she finished.

“Sounds like a positive thing.”

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May shook her head. “Maturity is a good thing, but it’s also a sign of a lost childhood. No fifteen-year-old should be asked to share the burden of our sins. That is a chain we m-must carry on our own.”

I laughed. “You sound like an old lady.”

“Hush,” she said with a pout.

“Why is he so caught up on me?” I said, before getting lost in thought.

“Who knows? While I dislike the man personally, he is one of the few people that despise this war and the treatment of our own. What he did in the Outlands, he thought, was best for your people and ours. If the Liches overwhelmed this city, they would be coming for you next—the General doesn’t enslave people. He refused to conform to that practice even when it was legal,” May said as we circled back towards my room in silence. The General would not get off that easy. I didn’t have a choice but to get on that ship. Just because I didn’t have a chain around my neck didn’t mean I was free. For May, though, I would drop the subject.

We stopped at the door awkwardly. May stared up at me with her silver eyes. “This is going to be hard, my friend,” she said, letting such sadness escape her lips that it made me feel a pit in my stomach. Her eyes were so beautifully unique; the blue of them had lost their tint but not their radiance. This made them soul-piercing in the right light. “Are you just going to stare at me?”

I gave her an abrupt hug, which she returned. “It makes me happy you think of us as friends.”

“You can only wipe someone’s ass so many times before that builds a strong friendship,” she teased, putting her face into my shoulder, knowing my response. May was quick with her words but would never commit to the cold front it required.

“Why did you have to go there?” I complained, moaning into the air above me.

I felt her face smile on my shoulder before she spoke, “Because teasing is needed,” May answered, stepping away. “Good luck and visit me in the future after you become a top-tier soldier. I am sure you will make me proud, Mr. Reed,” she grinned, bopping me on the nose before strolling down the hall, glancing back a few times. I saw through her cheerful goodbye. May would stutter her words a lot when we casually talked. She had a speech hindrance, and when her words were smooth, it meant she had rehearsed the conversation many times.

I returned to my room, putting on a thick jacket with a fur hood. As I stood in front of the mirror, I noticed how skinny I still looked around my face. My brown eyes were still slightly sunken. However, my hair had grown back a reasonable amount for the sad state I was in. I sighed at my appearance before braving my way out into the snow towards the barracks. Luckily, the war quarters were near the church.

The icy wind chilled my cheek as I pressed through, trying to navigate the snow-covered roads. Why this couldn’t wait until after the blizzard was beyond me. I wasn’t even sure why th General wanted me so badly. If this was his attempt to apologise for the smack, I wish he would stop.

The building finally came into view through the thick blizzard winds. I saw torches in front of the main gate leading my way. It was freezing, and my lungs were pained from pulling in the frigid air.

As I got closer, two swords stopped inches from my neck. The torchlight bounced off the smooth silver blades scissored at my neck.

“Name,” the muffled voice said to my right, holding one of the swords. Both soldiers were in thick white clothing with a cloth over their mouths.

“Cyrus Reed,” I answered, and the blade on the left dropped, and the other followed quickly as the two people opened the door, allowing me to walk in.

Arriving inside, I met a significant rush of warmth, and a man in a… green suit—that was what May would call them. I was uninformed about this region’s flamboyant fashion.

“Cyrus, I presume,” the man said, pushing his round glasses up his nose before sliding his hand into his pockets.

I put my fur hood back. “Unfortunately.”

“I expected more,” he frowned as he ran his finger through his light brown hair, slicking it back, sighing. “Follow,” he instructed, starting towards the split staircase behind him. We took the narrow flight to the left, walking down a long hallway with portraits of what look like Generals of the past in military uniforms. Finally, we came to a wooden door that the man knocked on loudly at the end of the passageway. I looked up at the golden plaque on the door that read, Lord General.

The General opened the door, not in this armour but a black military suit with fourteen golden stars on the chest. He walked away from the opened door over to a cabinet. We entered, and the man with glasses closed the door behind us. The General pulled a cork off a bottle with his teeth, pouring alcohol into a small glass cup as we stopped in front of his desk, waiting for him. He strolled over and sat down.

He leaned back in the creaky chair, staring at me as he put his boots on the desk. “I am going to give you a chance to be something,” he said, taking a sip of the brown liquid.

“I would rather be something at home,” I replied way too quick.

“I will pretend you didn’t say that,” he said, staring at me like the time he did before slapping my face off.

“Jameson. Let’s get to the point. I would like to skip this little dance of being a beacon of hope, blah, blah,” the man said, leaning on the General’s desk facing me, “I am Edwin, by the way.”

“I am not sure what the point of this is.”

Edwin faced the two chairs in front of the desk towards each other. “Sit,” he motioned, and I walked over, taking a seat. He unbuttoned his green jacket before sitting down and crossing his legs. “Tell me about yourself,” he gestured towards me.

“I am fifteen, almost died on a ship coming here, and would like to be released from the military. The man at the entrance here said he expected more. I agree, I am very lacking in almost every category.” There was silence as General Jameson and Edwin just stared at me. When it became a little too uncomfortable, I, of course, made things worse. “I like cats,” I said, cringing at the words coming out… Why would I say that?

Edwin looked back at Jameson. “You sure about this?”

Jameson leaned across the table. “I told you. There is no way he survived without anima.”

“I will just take the priestess candidate from the church. The Magister will not look poorly on you for not nominating someone,” Edwin said, standing up, buttoning his jacket, “Good luck Cyrus,” he sighed and walked towards the door.

“Wait,” Jameson shouted, standing up with hands on the desk staring at the oak surface, “If I don’t nominate, I don’t get funding. That means I can’t keep a standing army.”

“Surely they would give you money, as letting you struggle would cripple the military’s southern presence and compromise the Empire’s survivance of the Liches,” Edwin said, turning back.

“Please. You know my region consumes more than it produces, and we are way too close to the Liches. The idiot king doesn’t understand the importance of this location. Even the Archon Domain would feel its loss,” Jameson pleaded, looking up, “check him.”

“Checking requires a lot of anima. Which I do not have to spare with these cold conditions.”

I raised my hand to get their attention. “If this is about me using magica, I’ve never done it.”

“You owe me,” Edwin ignored my response, rolling his neck in annoyance, groaning. He sauntered over, putting his hand on the back of my chair, leaning uncomfortably close to my face. “Don’t move an inch when I do this, okay?”

“Your tone concerns me. Can I say no?”

Edwin took his jacket off, tossing it on the General’s desk. He rolled up his white sleeves before slamming his palm into my chest rather abruptly as his hazel eyes glowed a flaring light blue. A burning sensation built around my core, and before long, I grabbed his forearm, digging my nails into his skin. I locked my teeth shut as it felt like my insides were boiling, which was only made worse by nausea. He finally let off, and I, unfortunately, couldn’t stop myself from vomiting on the General’s floor. He stared at me, even more irritated. Edwin stood, holding his hand, confused as his eyes dimmed back to normal.

“Well!” Jameson shouted.

Edwin turned to him, “Anima is present correct, but I could not figure out what his element is. It started to—” he said, resting his hand on his cheek with his index finger pointed upward, getting lost in thought.

A long pause sat in the air. “So, he will work?” Jameson asked impatiently, putting his hand out towards me, leaning on the desk with his other.

Edwin returned to my direction. “Fascinating.”

There was a knock on the door, and the General yelled for them to come in. A woman walked in wearing a black suit, but it was missing a vest underneath.

She pulled the collar of the white undershirt. “Bloody warm in this place,” she groaned, looking over at me with her brown eyes, moving her short blonde hair behind her pointed ear. “Is he coming?” she asked before glancing at the vomit, which caused me to look away from her in embarrassment.

Edwin grabbed his jacket, sliding back into it smoothly, “Oh, he’s coming.” He grinned, buttoning his coat.

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