Chapter 22: The Boy Who Might Lead

Time went by and the frozen lakes thawed. They watched the snow melt and the green grass flourish as they labored under the training of the priests, their bruises ever growing alongside their skills. In the fourth month of their third year in the seminary a new training was added to the already tasking ones they had: climbing.

They accessed an upper room to have lessons with Father Antuas every morning before training, and after mass. The building that housed the room stood as tall as the towers of the fort. They swam across a water body that surrounded it, then climbed. It taught them that Takaris possessed a fear of heights.

Every day Antuas taught them the history of the seminary. He taught them of its glorious tales. He taught them of its crushing defeats. They learned the assassinations of the different Monsignors, their ages, and how long they were in power. They learned everything worth learning of the history of the seminary. The story of Ingrad and his twelve was not spared.

Father Yggdra also added a new touch to their training on Nurnsahel. He took them into a large room where the ground proved terribly uneven. There, he instructed them to spar.

Within the first month they found the ordeal one of most impossibility. But as the months flew by, they found they developed an understanding of it.

Sethlzaar learned it was all about footing. The training pushed the basic teachings of stance to the extreme before he figured out how to accommodate it.

"Your enemies will not always fight you on level plains," Yggdra said. "And we are not nobles that we would duel in fairness."

Sethlzaar found himself wondering just how much of the different trainings intertwined in their purposes. Obviously, fighting on such a terrain would have proved more tasking if they never ran in the woods under Father Karnamis' tutelage.

Before long Yggdra had them train alongside children from other towers. Sethlzaar understood very quickly the intent of the new sparring partners as he found they displayed a new variety of moves unlike his mates who seemed to have subconsciously developed a series of combos he already knew.

The other children from the different towers only proved new enemies, and nothing more. Sethlzaar displaced them with tricks he found to be beyond them. Though, he never grabbed the wooden knives by the intended blades again.

Still, there was one boy who proved challenging.

Most times Sethlzaar found himself paired with a boy from the Zanujaj tower named Vagris. Vagris proved more adept with his hands than Sethlzaar. He won most of their spars and proved to possess tricks far superior to Sethlzaar's.

Often, Sethlzaar found himself understanding the patterns in Vagris' fighting style only for the boy to switch to a different combo. He found himself looking forward to their coming spars, thinking up ways to attain victory. Each time he lost, and it came with a sense of defeat, and a tinge of achievement.

"Careful!" Soartin shouted on a midday while they trained.

He rushed to Canabi and his sparring partner, a boy from Grig tower. "You don't have to be so violent," he said, "we are not here to kill each other."

"Yes," the boy spat, derogatory. "I suppose you'll be telling me I don't have to win, next."

Truth be told, they were not required to win the spars. Winning was simply an intrinsic reward as far as the boys were concerned. So they sought after it, pushing themselves for the satisfaction. It often led to more violence during spars between towers, as the boys found it as more of a contest between towers than a spar to increase their skills.

Sethlzaar suspected it was the intentions of the priests.

"That's enough, don't you think?" Narvi stated. There was an underlying threat in his voice.

In one quick move Sethlzaar put down his partner and turned his attention to Soartin. His partner struggled, perhaps on instinct, and he pinned him down harder. He kept his attention on Soartin and Canabi, his leg on the nape of the boy's neck.

Narvi had addressed Soartin and was now walking towards him. Everyone stopped and stood on edge. It was not the first time Soartin pulled such a stunt, ignoring his partner to rush to Canabi's aid whenever he felt the boy's partner was becoming too violent. Today, however, it seemed things were to escalate. Yggdra was not with them.

There was a tension in the air, and it seemed everyone felt it.

A brawl was a possibility but Sethlzaar always saw it as boys being boys. Putting boys in such a situation was going to escalate into various things. In this setting, violence was one of them. However, the reason they were on edge was because Soartin had once gotten into a fight when Canabi's partner had furthered his violence into name calling.

Canabi had held back his hurt but Soartin had not. He had rushed the boy and, in a bid to stop the violence, the others had joined in. In a matter of seconds, the arena had erupted in a full on brawl. They had been punished for it, sent to the degrading task of cleaning out the latrines after their strokes from Father Ordan. But the reason Sethlzaar never forgot that day was because it was the first time he broke a finger. It had left him unable to use a sword for a week.

Tamael took a predatory step away from his partner, and towards Canabi's.

"This will not be happening," Narvi warned immediately.

After the winter test Father Ordan had brought Tamael to their room, introducing him to be a new member of their tower. Apparently, a tower with a single child among its mates was not smiled upon.

The first few days had been rather amusing. Takaris sought any and every excuse he could to talk with the boy. For the first time Sethlzaar saw a boy and thought him desperate, remembering how men visited Groc very waking day whenever they wanted something from him.

Tamael had grown close to Alsipin instead and, in time, Takaris withdrew. Slowly, Tamael began conversing naturally with the rest of their mates, becoming one of them. But Sethlzaar felt some days the boy tried too hard. Today was one of those days.

If any of the other children made a suspicious move Sethlzaar was certain they would all join in to defend Soartin in whatever may transpire. But although Tamael had the same intentions, as far as he could tell, the boy was borderline on being the one to start the brawl and Sethlzaar knew no one wanted to clean out the latrines.

Luckily for all of them, Tamael stopped in his tracks the moment Narvi spoke.

"You're a fucking shithead! You know that?" Alsipin complained later, when they were in the dining hall having their evening meal.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Soartin asked, lifting his head from his plate. It seemed he was not going to be insulted by the boy.

"You always do this," Alsipin fumed audibly. "You protect him from everything, like he's some fragile egg. Don't you ever get tired of getting us into trouble?!"

"The unsouled take you!" Soartin cursed from across the table. "Just because you have the body of a small guerrilla and the brain of an oaf doesn't mean he can take the same crap you can."

"Watch your mouth, brother," Alsipin warned, seeming on the edge of his patience. Everyone at the table was aware that Alsipin did not joke with anything that had to do with the unsouled or the touched.

"Or what?" Soartin challenged.

"Or I'll wash it out for you."

"You know what..." Soartin began what everyone was certain would cause more trouble. "I never asked any of you to fight for me, and I'd rather die than take advice from a child who only knows how to tell false tales concocted by a tribe of sav—"

Alsipin's hand moved in a blur and his plate went flying across the table. Soartin dodged it with ease but the plate only proved a distraction. Alsipin leaped across the table. His knee found Soartin's nose. The chaos of scattered plates filled the air as they plummeted to the ground.

"That's enough!" Narvi ordered the moment Alsipin's first blow connected to Soartin's face.

"Oh shut up," Takaris snapped, rising from his seat. Sethlzaar looked up from his food. Takaris lips twisted in anger. "No one put you in charge."

Sethlzaar held his fork in his left hand and watched Takaris as he opened his mouth to say another word. All the while he ignored the continued scuttle between Alsipin and Soartin.

"Sit down, brother," Cenam told Takaris without inflection.

It surprised them. At least all but Soartin and Alsipin.

"He can't just command us and expect us to obey." Takaris spat, recovering from his surprise quickly. "We are not Frent..."

Sethlzaar found himself leaping over the table, fork held like a knife, trashing the meals in different directions. His knees hit Takaris' chest, his whole weight behind it. They went to the ground. There, Sethlzaar placed his fork as close to the boy's eye as he could without injury. Everything was done in an instant. Silence dawned on the table. Alsipin and Soartin's scuttle ended immediately.

"Are you the new F—" Takaris began.

Sethlzaar brought the fork closer to his eye, touching it to his bottom lid. "Please..." His lips spread in a malicious grin. "Give me an excuse."

Sethlzaar saw fear and anger cloud Takaris' eyes but knew with a certainty fear won out. Takaris stayed still. He uttered no other word.

"That's enough!"

Ordan stood before their table. Sethlzaar noted the silence for the first time. He wondered if he or the priest had been the cause. He moved his fork, rose from his brother, and turned his gaze to the ground.

Father Jenael, the seminary's healer, took care of Alsipin and Soartin. Soartin it seemed had a broken nose, a split lip, a swollen eye, and a few bruises. Alsipin had two broken fingers. It explained in the simplest terms who had won the fight.

"Would someone like to tell me what happened?" Ordan asked, as the rest of them stood outside the healer's room.

"Soartin and Alsipin had a minor misunderstanding," Takaris said quietly.

"Of course." Ordan turned to him. "I'm sure yer saw all that from yer place on the floor, Crunt." He rarely called them by their family names, only using it whenever he had an insult stemming from disappointment to offer. "All of yer return to yer quarters," he ordered, exasperated.

They turned, and trooped out, Alsipin joining them from the room.

"Ernshua. Sorlan," Ordan called as they left.

"Yes, Father," Narvi answered.

They made their way to Ordan. Being told to wait was understandable. for reasons unknown to Sethlzaar Father Ordan did not like him, and he had threatened a fellow student's sight. Fights were nothing new among the children in the seminary but there were rules: render no permanent injuries and break no bones.

Sethlzaar had threatened to blind his brother. Punishments were clearly in order.

"Fix this," Ordan told Narvi simply. He spared Sethlzaar a look of disgust, turned, and walked away, leaving Sethlzaar puzzled. Why was I called. And why should Narvi have to fix it? it's not like he did anything.

Narvi seeming to understand what was going on turned and began making his way for the exit.

"Where to?" Sethlzaar asked.

"Talk to Alsipin."

Sethlzaar paused. "If you can't find him, try the Kennel..." .... I guess I should talk to Soartin, he told himself with a resigned sigh.

The healer's room smelled of herbs of various types. Potted plants as well as certain powders were positioned against the open window. Soartin was seated on one of the mattresses present in the room with a swab of cotton up his nose and a slight coloring on his lips.

"Feel like a man?" Sethlzaar mocked.

Soartin made an obscene gesture at him with his hand. "Sod off."

Sethlzaar stopped a few paces away. "You really are going to get him killed, brother," he said, his tone serious. "At least if you keep this up."

"Taking sides with Alsipin?"

"Today is not about sides, brother. Keep cuddling Canabi like that and he's going to get killed when they send him out." He paused, then frowned. "He'll probably die before he even gets the chance to leave these walls."

"You're one to talk, brother, you do the same for Cenam," Soartin shot back. "You think we don't see it, but we do. The way you watch him. The way you're always at his beck and call. You jumped into a fight with Takaris the moment he opposed him." He laughed bitterly, then winced in pain. "I don't have to listen to you."

I really don't have to be here, Sethlzaar reminded himself. Soartin always proved himself incapable of thinking straight anytime it came to Canabi. This was no different.

"Everyone knows there's no love lost between Takaris and I," he clarified easily. "Besides, my case is not what's causing a problem. I'm also not the one who asked my family not to protect me."

Soartin frowned and Sethlzaar wondered if he had caught a glimpse of remorse on the boy's face. Soartin had made a point about his relationship with Cenam, and that had made up part of the reason he had never spoken about how he treated Canabi. At least till now. Actually, if Father Ordan hadn't said anything, and Narvi hadn't gone in search of Alsipin, he wouldn't be here.

They settled into a strange silence.

"You can't possibly begin to understand," Soartin said eventually. "We might all be playing family but he's the only person I can call family in this whole carnage." He rose his head up, cotton swabbed and colored lipped. "We might undergo the same experience here but you are still a child, brother. There are things you cannot understand, yet."

Sethlzaar took offence from Soartin's words. Notwithstanding, he knew Soartin was not wrong. He could not oppose that. Being two years older than him, Soartin was in his fifteenth year, and Canabi, only his thirteenth.

Sethlzaar shrugged simply. "I will not lecture you on this, brother. All I will say is one day you will regret your decision." He turned, made his way to the door. He stopped when he reached it. "And stop starting fights you cannot win." He opened the door. "Only fools do that."

Soartin would eventually come to feel regret, but not for how he treated Canabi. For something else; something that would come to haunt him his whole life.

The talk left Sethlzaar pondering on his relationship with Cenam as he left the room. He's right. But it's not like I don't already know, he assured himself.

The brothers were a mess and, what was worse, Father Ordan expected Narvi to fix it. And for some reason, kept only him around to learn of it. Sethlzaar's mind drifted to Narvi.

I hope he's having better luck with Alsipin.