Chapter 8: Chapter 7: Instincts

CHAPTER

7

Instincts

I

“So what do you want to talk about?” Kyna asked as she sat across Ryen.

After entering Ryen’s room, Ryen had indicated for her to sit on his chair, while he sat down on his bed.

This wasn’t her first time in a boy’s room. The servants would, every morning, clean the rooms of the initiates and change their bedclothes. Since many of the initiates were boys, she had seen plenty of boys’ rooms before, even if they all looked the same.

This was her first time alone with a boy in his room, however, and that changed just about everything. Ryen just wanted to talk, she knew that much. It wasn’t as if anything would happen. But she still couldn’t help but feel awfully conscious of herself—and of him, as he sat down on the bed in front of her, his lags half-crossed in a lazy, relaxed posture, intently looking at her with his pale blue eyes.

It wasn’t as if what they were doing was prohibited. There weren’t any rules saying that an initiate couldn’t invite a servant for a talk inside their room. But it still felt wrong, and she couldn’t help but feel slightly apprehensive at the thought of someone knocking on the door and finding her here together with Ryen, even if they were just talking. It just wasn’t proper, she believed, for a girl and a boy their age to be alone in a room like this.

But she hadn’t refused him. She could have said no; she could have said that she had something to do, that she was tired. She could’ve even said that she simply didn’t want to. But she hadn’t, because it would have been a lie. She wanted to talk with him. What Ryen had said about how he liked to talk to her—the same applied to her. She liked talking to him, being around him. Even though they had only known each other for about a week, she felt as if she had known him for much longer, and just this morning she had been wondering whether she’d get to talk to see Ryen again today and what they’d talk about.

“Well, I must admit I’m still quite curious about Elder Tynwen,” Ryen said. “The first time we talked, I believe you mention that this was Elder Tynwen’s first year as the hall leader of the Mistling Hall, and when he gave the welcoming speed the first day, he gave me the impression that … well, that he didn’t want to be here.” He paused, as if trying to recall something, then added, “I also noticed that all the other elders of the Mistling Hall have, on their clothes, the same symbol, the one with two spirals. Only the symbol on Elder Tynwen’s robes is slightly different, with an additional spiral.”

“Hmmm.” Kyna considered Ryen’s words. None of what he had said had been a lie. She didn’t know why he was so interested in the Hall Leader Tynwen, but she figured there was no harm in sharing what she knew. More importantly, she wanted to be of help to him in some way.

“I don’t know a lot,” she admitted, “but I can tell you what I’ve heard. Just keep in mind that they’re just rumors, all right?” Ryen nodded, and she continued. “Apparently, Hall Leader Tynwen is a prime elder of the sect. All the other elders of the Mistling Hall, they’re inner elders. That’s why the symbol on Hall Leader Tynwen’s robes is different. Inner elders have, on their robes, the Viridian Dyad, which is the symbol with the two spirals, whereas prime elders have the Viridian Triad, which has three spirals. The thing is that, usually, the position of hall leader of the Mistling Hall is given to an inner elder. As far as I know, a prime elder has never held the position before Hall Leader Tynwen. And according to the rumors, the reason why he ended up in the position was that he had a falling out with the sect leader, who stationed him here as punishment. Again, this only a rumor—something the other servants heard from some of the servants Hall Leader Tynwen brought with him.”

“So that’s the case…” Ryen said. “Well, this explains why he didn’t seem all that happy in the welcoming ceremony.”

“Yeah,” Kyna said. Thinking of something, she hesitated for a moment, considering whether to say it, but then decided that since Ryen was interested in Hall Leader Tynwen, he’d probably like to know this too—even more so considering that, in a way, it directly concerned him. “There’s something else. Your assigned servant, Myra—I already told you that she’s also one of Hall Leader Tynwen’s personal servants, right? That’s not just it. She’s his chief servant, and Hall Leader Tynwen also made her the chief servant of the Mistling Hall.”

That was the main reason why all of the other servants walked on eggshells around her. Just being a personal servant—let alone the chief personal servant—of a prime elder would be enough to make her an untouchable existence even if she was currently acting as a servant of the Mistling Hall. But as if that wasn’t enough, she was also made her chief servant of the Mistling Hall, giving her the same authority over the other servants an elder, which meant that Myra didn’t even need to rely on her connection to Hall Leader Tynwen to make the life of any of the servants miserable.

What made things worse was that Myra wasn’t a particularly affable person. Instead, she was a cold, severe woman, a sticker for the rules. Kyna hadn’t been lying when she told Ryen that Myra didn’t like any of the other servants. She looked down on them as if by principle, and within a day of Myra’s arrival, all of the servants of the Mistling Hall, Kyna included, had come to the decision that the less they interacted with the woman, the better, as that way the less reason they gave Myra to dislike any of them in particular, as opposed to simply being subjected to her more general dislike.

“Oh. I see…” Ryen said, his expression thoughtful. He then smiled at her. “Thanks for telling me.”

“It’s nothing,” Myra said, quickly, hoping she wasn’t blushing too strongly. She didn’t think it was fair when he smiled at her like that—so earnestly, so sincerely.

Ryen wasn’t the most handsome boy she had ever seen. He was tall and athletically built, with an oval, fairly handsome face and sandy blond hair. But he wasn’t handsome to the point of drawing the eye. His smile, on the other hand, was unlike any she had ever seen. There was just something about the way he smiled, the way his entire face brightened, the way his eyes would look deep into your own, intent, that made her unable to look away. Not all of his smiles were like that. In fact, most of the time, she noticed he preferred to smirk—a smug, almost condescending curl of his lips as if he was laughing at some joke privy only to himself. But that only made his bright, earnest smiles all the more special.

“Anyway,” Ryen said, “I think that’s enough about the older generation. I’d also like to know a bit about your time as an initiate, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh. Umm.” Kyna wasn’t sure where to start, a bit taken aback by his request. It was the first time he was expressing an interest in her so clearly, so forwardly, so she hadn’t been prepared for it. “What exactly do you want to know?”

“Well, if it’s not something too personal, can you tell me how you ended up becoming an initiate?” Ryen asked, leaning slightly forward in the bed, before elaborating a bit more. “I mean, you’re mundaneborn, right? I’m assuming that you took the entrance examinations of a vassal sect, and the legate there scouted you. Was there any particular reason why you took the entrance examinations in the first place?”

“That…” Kyna furrowed her brow.

Immediately, Ryen raised his hands, apprehensive. “Like I said, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he assured her. “If it’s something you don’t want to share, that’s fine. Everyone has their reasons, and some aren’t the of kind you’d want to share, or even remember. Trust me—I know.”

At that, his expression darkened a little, becoming almost grim, but he was back to normal the next moment, the shift in his expression happening so quickly that Kyna wasn’t sure whether she had imagined it.

“No,” Kyna said. “It’s … it’s fine. I don’t mind.”

It wasn’t fine, actually, and had it been anyone else asking, she would have minded, but it wasn’t anyone else. It was Ryen, and she wanted to share a little of her past with him, even if it was just to see how he’d react, what he’d say. Whether he’d come to the same conclusion as her father had and decide that she wasn’t worth his time anymore.

“I … I took the entrance examination of  Azure Clouds Sect together with my sister. My half-sister. My father, he—”

A knock came from the door, and Kyna froze

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“Master Rhodry?” A cold, severe voice came from the other side.

Oh no.

Ryen shifted his gaze toward the door, his eyes narrowing. He got off the bed, stood up, and leaned in toward Kyna. “Let me handle this,” he said, softly, and she nodded her head.

Kyna then watched as he made his way over to the door and opened it, revealing Myra standing in the corridor.

We weren’t doing anything wrong, Kyna reminded herself. We weren’t breaking any rules.

Immediately, Myra’s gaze landed on Kyna. The older woman’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t say anything and instead focused on Ryen.

“Master Rhodry?” Myra said, giving Ryen a questioning look.

“We were just talking,” Ryen said, meeting her gaze. Kyna didn’t know how he managed it. “I invited Kyna to my room to talk. I had some questions about the Mistling Hall and the sect, and Kyna was kind enough to answer them.”

His voice was firm, brokering no argument. Kyna had no idea from where he got the courage to use that tone with Myra.

“Is that so?” Myra said, staring straight back at Ryen, and for a moment she seemed to hesitate, much to Kyna’s confusion. Then the older woman nodded. “I see. Next time, Master Rhodry, I’d be happy to answer any questions you have. I am your assigned servant, after all. It’s also getting quite late, and I believe that it’s about time Kyna returned to her room for the night. Kyna?”

Kyna didn’t need to be told twice. She promptly stood up from the chair. “Yes?”

“Let us be on our way.”

Kyna promptly made her way over to the door, stopping for a moment to nod goodbye to Ryen, who gave her a small smile.

“Have a good night, Master Rhodry,” Myra said.

“Good night, Myra, Kyna,” Ryen said.

Myra then started walking away, and after giving one last glance at Ryen, Kyna followed. The two of them walked down the corridor in silence, the air tense, Kyna a few steps behind Myra, hoping that she wasn’t in trouble.

As they were leaving the residential wing, Myra broke the silence. “What exactly did Master Rhodry want to know?” She didn’t turn her head to look at Kyna.

Kyna blinked, then frowned. Hesitating slightly, she said, “Nothing in specific. Just some questions about how the sect and the Mistling Hall worked.” She paused, then added, “He also asked some questions about me.”

She made no mention of Ryen’s questions about Hall Leader Tynwen. She didn’t think it’d be wise, although she wasn’t sure why.

Without a word, Myra turned her head to look at her, staring straight into her eyes. Kyna held her gaze for a few moments, mustering courage she didn’t know she had, before averting her eyes.

“I see,” Myra said, simply. “You may head back to your rooms yourself.” The woman then turned around and walked away.

For a moment, Kyna stared, dumbly, at Myra’s retreating back, stunned by the curt and sudden dismissal. Once Myra had turned around a corner and disappeared, Kyna recomposed herself and continued making her way back to her room, more than a little confused about what had just transpired.

A short while later, as she was walking past the entrance of the library, her gaze fell on a boy wearing the robes of an initiate leaving the library, and she almost came to a stop.

She had seen the boy before—back during the welcoming ceremony, and then again a few times afterward.

And whenever she looked at him, for a reason she couldn’t explain, she felt some sort of aversion—some sort of instinctive repulsion, as if there was something wrong about him and she had to do something about it. Just the sight of him made her shiver.

Odder still was that Ryen similarly provoked a reaction in her that she couldn’t explain, except the exact opposite one. Where for the boy she felt an instinctive enmity, when she looked at Ryen she felt an instinctive closeness.

The boy walked past her, his dark eyes briefly falling on her. He gave her a polite nod, and she nodded back. That was the extent of their interaction as the boy carried on walking, most likely on his way back to his room given the time.

As the boy walked away, she couldn’t help but give him one last glance, catching sight of his black hair. Even if it hadn’t been for the strange feeling the boy gave her, she probably would have still remembered him, considering he was the only Kunyuan among the current initiates—and one of the few Kunyuans she had ever seen.

Immersed in her thoughts, Kyna resumed her walk back to her room.

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