Chapter Five
My eyes opened, and a moment later, soft, half-muted groan slipped from my lips. My muscles ached with exhaustion, with both and physical, like my full night of sleep had never happened.
When I was a child, I'd heard stories of the stars above crashing into each other. I'd always wondered what it would have felt like to be pinned between them at the moment of impact. Now I felt as if I knew.
I stretched, not even enjoying the feeling of that. My face felt chilled from the morning air, but my body felt almost feverish. As if it were swampy, yet not sweaty. My eyes lids were stuck together, my lips were stuck together, and it felt like the sides of my throat were too. I reached over, happy I'd fetched a glass of water the night before, and brought it to my lips.
I saw Joseph lying on his bed across the room, covered in his blue blanket with his knees pulled up to his chest. Our eye's met almost instantly. He looked away, feigning aloofness. I wondered how long he'd been looking at me. Had he been waiting for me to wake up?
Was he dreading it? Does he not want me to bother him...? I pondered. Or maybe he has been looking forward to it? It seemed like we had a lot of fun yesterday....
I rolled over and let my eyes close. As excited as I was about hanging out with Joseph again—assuming he would have me—my body still ached with morning exhaustion, and I felt like if I moved too suddenly, I'd vomit.
I curled up into a tight ball and clutched my blanket, keeping it pulled to my chin. I did my best to remain perfectly still, only moving for the more intense, shuddering yawns, and managed to maintain this sore yet peaceful state for several minutes.
Then there was the sound of springs and a sudden shift in the weight on my bed toward the side. A familiar weight, one I'd felt before.
“Mornin' sleepyhead,” a familiar voice rang out the moment my eyes slid open. “It's practically noon.”
“It is...? But it's.... A-Are you sure?”
I couldn't explain it, but something inexplicably morning comprised the room. Maybe it was the light, or possibly the large amount of bodies still tucked up in blankets.
“Okay, maybe I exaggerated a bit, yeah? But it's still later than usual. Especially for you.”
“Um,” I rubbed my face and eyes with the palms of my hands. “I've never slept around you before.... How can you think it's unusual?”
“Heh, I can just tell. You should trust your elders more, yeah?” He didn't look over at me as he spoke. He seemed preoccupied with his hands, looking down at one and picking at his claws with the other.
“My elders...” I sat up and smiled. “I think it's gonna be awhile 'fore you're my elder.”
“Nuh uh,” he insisted. “Anyone older is an elder, yeah? Which means I am your elder and you should respect me.” His tail smacked the bedspread.
“No....”
“Uh huh!” He looked over at me and smiled. “Few more years and I'll be the oldest one here, too. And then it's all milk.”
“Yeah, well, you may end up the oldest, but you still have to answer to Daughtry.”
Joseph looked back at me, at first with surprise, but his eyebrows and the corners of his lips began sinking slowly until his entire expression looked aghast. His shoulders slumped and his wide eyes lowered. He turned away from me and looked down at his claws.
“Yeah...” He muttered, picking at his claws. “I guess so.”
I sat there erect for several moments, too shocked to move.
But... what happened? What did I say?
After the most awkward silence I'd ever shared with him (or anybody), I found the words to continue:
“I mean, you'll, uh, you'll be an elder to pretty much everybody some day. Eventually you won't have to worry about West-End at all and everyone will look up to you!”
I saw him glance over at me, his depression now more empty than sorrowful. He looked back down at the claw he was picking, and a moment later, his tense eyebrows relaxed a bit. He took a deep breath.
“Yeah, I guess that's true.” He replied.
“Yeah...? I mean, yeah, yeah, it is! You're gonna be the-the, oldest, most respected elder ever. I can already tell.”
He closed his eyes for a long a moment, his head still turned away. His eyelids slid open slowly and he turned to face me. A smile formed on his lips.
“Yeah, I think you're right. But nobody is gonna respect me if I don't make it happen, yeah? Means it's time to go train!”
I smiled back at him, glad his good spirits were returning(though still slightly disturbed by the ease in which they could be ended).
“You ready?” He asked me.
“Huh...?”
“You wanted to join me, right? I could show you some moves if you want.” He leaned in a bit, his smile widening.
“Oh, uh... y-you mean right now? Like, right this second?”
“Yeah, of course! While we're young!” He leaned in a bit further, his excitement impossible to fight off. “We'll be back in time for lunch, yeah? It's still pretty early.”
It's early? I thought, with a mental frown. What happened to 'It's practically noon...?'
“Um... Yeah, I guess we can go now, but-”
“-Awesome! Okay, let's do it. Put on your shoes and let's go.” Both his legs tapped nervously against the floor. “Dang, I am so psyched now! Let's go, let's go!”
“Okay, okay,” I tossed my feet over the side of the bed and began putting putting my shoes on. “Keep your claws on....”
The moment I begrudgingly pried myself from my bed, Joseph hurriedly led me through the hallways of West-End. We emerged from the front and immediately turned to walk against the side of the building like last time.
I could see the spot where we'd entered the woods, no obvious trail from the outside; the only sign larger life had ever walked that spot at all were the slightly disheveled weeds that swayed just below the lofty tree branch that hung directly in front of it.
He looked back and forth, to make sure nobody was watching us—even though I suspected people had seen him enter the woods at least a few times in the several years he'd been traveling it.
“You know what, Leonidus?” He said, pulling the branch out the way for me.
“You can just call me Leo,” I interjected.
“Oh. Okay, Leo! ...Hehehe, that helps my point. I was gonna say you act really mature for your age, yeah?”
“I do?”
“Yeah! I mean, you don't act as mature as me—obviously--and not as mature as some of the older brothers like Scott.... But for a twelve year old, you're really smart. And kind too, y-yeah?”
“Oh,” I couldn't keep myself from smiling. “Thanks. I guess I should be proud.”
“Yeah, I think so. Some of the younger kids who come here—though, I'll admit they're not usually twelve—can be little monsters, yeah? Then again, it usually takes them a couple weeks to really fit into the place, so maybe if I just wait a bit....”
I chuckled. “I don't think I am going to turn into a monster. At least I hope not.”
“Hehehe, I don't think so either.” He paused. “I really hope you don't either.”
We walked for a bit in silence. I stayed as close to Joseph as I could, keeping my eyes on his back and around his feet to keep from stumbling or looking around too much.
“Oof!” The moment I made the mistake of looking away, Joseph came to a stop and I plowed directly into his back. He didn't budge.
“Shhh....” With the exception of extending a hushing hand, he remained perfectly still, his ears erect and his eyes glazed over the bush next to us, half focused on it, half empty, as if only a small fraction of his energy was worth delegating to the facilities of sight.
My breath went shallow and my tail curled downward, between my legs. This was the first time I'd ever seen Joseph do something like this; normally he didn't stop for anything. What could he have heard? Had he seen something? Had something seen us? Was there something in that bush just inches away from us?
After standing in abject terror for what felt like eternity, Joseph looked back at me:
“Stay here,” he whispered. “I'll be right back.”
“Wh... But I....”
He disappeared into the brush, his image vanishing almost immediately, the sound of his steps having never manifested in the first place.
I stood alone, the sound of buzzing and humming and leaves swishing around me. With no furry back to distract my eyes, all I could do was look around the wide, wooded area; my imagination turning bushes and innocent formations of sticks into malevolent beasts beyond my ability to fully conceptualize.
Whether or not I could momentarily identify what it was about any one spot in this maddening picture that made me want to collapse to the ground in tears was irrelevant, as it was more that each of the perceived pieces involved invoked a sense of terror, and in some sinister, cyclical process of self-creation and self-affirmation, they each took on the shapes I most dreaded to find, while seemingly taking on no consistent shapes at all.
“J-Joseph...?” I mumbled, arms beginning to shake. “Oh, no. Oh, no....!”
My head whipped back and forth, as if I were watching walls encroach from all angles, moving in a decrepit, angular fashion with the sole purpose of crushing me. I took a deep breath, but still felt a grasping desire for more air. I quickly exhaled and went to inhale ag-
“-GOT IT!”
A large, furry object erupted from the bush, a squirming, sentient tube of beast clutched in it's hand. The squirming tube was abruptly shoved toward my face. I stumbled back and my foot caught on a root. I fell into the bush behind us, and then on to the ground.
“Check it out!” Joseph grinned. “I caught the little bastard!” The squirming tube turned out to be a snake; it's jaw pincered between his thumb and forefinger. “Pretty cool, right...? Hey.... Are you okay?”
Joseph's expression of triumph melted into a look of worry as he approached me and kneeled down.
“Erh!” I pulled away from the snake in his hand.
“O-Oh, um, sorry....” He got up and released the snake, sending it slithering in the opposite direction. “Hey, a-are you... are you okay?”
Tears streamed down my face and I shook my head through small, stifled sobs.
“H-Hey, I'm... I'm really sorry! Really! I didn't mean to... to scare you so much!” He reached to put a hand on my shoulder, but pulled back and looked at it for a moment. “I won't do it again—I swear! Oh, c-crap! Please don't hate me for this!”
I sniffed. “Joseph....” I muttered.
“Y-Yeah?” He leaned in.
“I....”
He leaned in a bit closer.
“I....”
“You?” He turned his ear toward me. “What's wrong?”
“I... had an accident.”
He pursed his brow in confusion and turned to face me. “A what?”
“I-I wet myself.”
“You... wet yourself?” His tone and gaze were stern, as if he were having trouble understanding what those words altogether meant.
I nodded, a fresh wave of tears overflowing from my eyes.
He looked down at my lap and then back up at me. The features of his face were taut and difficult to discern. After several moments, his lips spread, as if in mild shock. “Leo, did you... piss in your pants?”
I cried harder in response.
He looked off into the woods. “Shit....”
“C-Can w-we go back?”
“No!” He snapped back.
I flinched. “B-But wh-”
“-No, I can't take you back there like this. They would...” He looked down at my lap again. “No, I just... No, no, no....”
The crying stopped and confusion set in. Joseph nibbled on his lower lips, looking around the woods as if he were seeking a saving grace.
Why is he so stressed? I'm the one who... embarrassed himself.
“Okay...” He nodded. “Okay, I.... I think I know what we can do, yeah? Yeah, we'll go to my secret place. And, we can work out everything there. Yeah... That should work.”
“S-Secret place?”
“Here,” he extended a hand for me to grab. “Let's go get you cleaned up.”
***
Joseph led me further down the trail, and within a few minutes he turned and began walking off road. I realized quickly that I'd taken his makeshift, light-stepped path for granted. This was a non-stop trek through brush, some of it soft and unimposing, but most of it dense, hard, and sometimes even spiked.
The sodden fabric of my shorts stuck to my bottom and rubbed against my thighs with each step. The fabric of my robes occasionally swung forward and rubbed against the exposed portion of my legs, immediately reminding me of what had happened if I were lucky enough to get my mind off it for longer than a second.
“Um, J-Joseph...?” I pushed two long, thin branches out of the way—one with each hand—only to find a third lodged directly in front of my chest. “Where are we going?”
“We're going to my secret place, yeah?”
“Your secret place?” I pressed.
“Yes, my secret place. Very mysterious, yeah?”
“O-Oh.” I frowned, knowing that I was in no position to feel frustrated, but still wishing he'd given me a little more than 'very mysterious, yeah?' That level of vagueness seemed a bit... cheap.
What confounded me the most was how this 'secret place' located deep in the woods could somehow remedy my woes. Unless it turned out to be a tailor's shop that had opened a tab with a poor, eccentric orphan, and had against all odds managed to survive literally in the middle of nowhere, I was pretty much stuck in my wet, stale-smelling clothes.
“Will we at least be there soon?”
“Yes,” Joseph answered. “It's about the same distance as my training spot.”
“...I'm guessing you don't go there very often.”
“Hmm?” He glanced back at me. “Why do you say that, yeah?”
“Well, uh,” I dislodged myself from a particularly bad patch of thorns. “The path is kinda... rough.”
“Yes, here it's rough. That's because I have an actual path somewhere else, but I figured you didn't want to spend the extra time going all the way around.”
My frown tightened with guilt. Joseph had ultimately chosen this path for my comfort, and his going first meant he was taking the brunt of the sticks and thorns, and he'd torn no small amount of debris out of the way for me.
“By the way,” he continued. “If you pee yourself again, try to do it a little bit closer to the training spot. I have a path there.”
I blushed and looked down at my feet.
He glanced back at me again and snorted. “Don't feel too bad about it, yeah? Could happen to anyone. Really.”
“Y-Yeah?”
“Yeah, definitely.”
“Could it happen to you?” I asked, a bit amused.
“Nope.” He replied quickly, as if he were expecting the question. “I'm not a little kid.”
I frowned. “Hey!”
“Hehehe. Don't worry, you're twelve. You're a little kid either way, yeah? So nothing to worry about.”
“...Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Maybe. Maybe it is supposed to make me feel better, yeah? ...An awful lot of thorns out here.”
For someone so concerned about me, I thought. He sure likes teasing.
After a bit more walking, I heard a noise far off. It sounded like a wall of sound; it was faint because of the distance, but it sounded... unique, as if it were strong enough to swallow up all the sounds around it.
“What's that?” I asked.
“What's what?”
I frowned. “The noise. What's that noise?”
“Oh.” Joseph paused a moment. “You'll see, yeah?”
I frowned harder. “Why don't you just tell me?”
“Because it wouldn't be much of a secret if I told you now, yeah?”
Deciding it wasn't worth pursuing this conversation any further, I scoffed and peeled another branch of thorns from my robe.
The sound grew more intense with every step we took. What had started off as a hiss had turned into a continuous crash, and up ahead I could see a clearing where the sunlight flowed uninhibited and sparkled in the air.
It was at about this point that'd I guessed the secret behind Joseph's second, private area. We emerged into the clearing; before us, a pond as clear as the sky, a waterfall white like the clouds falling continuously like a non-stop rain funneled into one long tube of water.
“Wow!” I cooed. “This is... this is...!”
“Awesome?” Joseph finished. “I know, yeah? Just don't tell anybody about it, or'else they're all gonna come here and ruin it.”
I took a few step forward, the thin spots of grass growing thinner as the dirt turned to a healthy, white sand. I stepped into the clear water and wriggled my toes, that same sand now like silk.
“But... isn't that kinda selfish? This place is amazing!”
“Just trust me, Leo. Trust me.”
Deciding this topic was also not worth pursuing, I took a few steps forward, letting the hem of my robe slip under the water.
“Go ahead,” Joseph began. “Don't be afraid to get your clothes wet, yeah? That's why we're here. To wash off. Plus, you weren't afraid to get them wet earlier, yeah?”
I looked back at him and frowned.
“Hehehe.”
Without waiting for him to contrive any other witticisms, I went forward into the water, submerging myself up to my neck.
“Hmm,” I looked up at him. “Are you gonna get in too?”
It was his turn to frown. “Um, no.... I'm alright. I don't... really wanna get wet or anything.” He forced a smile, but it only made him look more suspicious.
I gave him a curious look. “You... sure? The water's really nice. And I'd feel bad if you were just sitting there waiting on me.”
“Naaaaah,” He drawled. “I'm okay. Really.” He hopped up on a big stone overlooking the pool and sat with his legs crossed.
“Should I hurry, then? I don't wa-”
“-No, no! You don't have to hurry or anything, yeah? Just take your time and have fun. I... I am enjoying just sitting here. It is nice out here, yeah? I don't have swim to have a good time. Sometimes I just come here to sit around. So take your time, yeah? No rush.”
I cocked a brow. “Al-right....” I pushed back through the water, still looking at him. He was looking back at me, clearly making an attempt to look inconspicuous.
After having cleaned my robe to a point I deemed acceptable, I slipped it off and tossed it on the rock Joseph was on. He took it and spread it out, so it would dry in the sun.
I lounged around, wading through the water up to about my neck before turning back and heading closer to shore. I repeated this several times until Joseph spoke up.
“How come you aren't going any deeper?”
“Oh,” I chuckled ruefully. “It's just... I, uh, I can't really swim.” The coolness of the water made me extra aware of my blush. “I know I'm a little old to be saying that, but I never really had a chance to learn....”
“Oh! I could show you sometime! I'm a natural at it, yeah?”
“You could? That would be... cool!”
“Yep! I could make you an awesome swimmer! The best around here! Well, second best. It's a common fact the student can't surpass the master, yeah?”
“Um, isn't it the other way around? Isn't that... the point? “
“The point...? The point of what?”
“Th-Th-The point of the m-master. To teach the student so he passes the master.”
Joseph looked taken aback for a moment, but he quickly collected himself. “Heh, yes, well.... Not in the world of swimming, yeah? It is different in swimming. Especially when I am the master, yeah?” He swelled with pride.
“But, if the student couldn't pass the master, then wouldn't the students just get worse and worse...? Until eventually nobody could swim at all...? Wouldn't we all just lose the ability to swim, and then wade, and then eventually we'd just-”
“-Okay, okay! Maybe it doesn't apply to swimming. But it does apply to me. You can't pass me, alright?” He cleared his throat thoughtfully. “Because I am the master.”
I giggled. “You say that, but... I still haven't seen you actually do the thing.”
“No need. You may take it on faith, knave. Or do you doubt me?!”
“I don't doubt you.” I said with a smile. “Feeling excited, though.... I wonder when I'll finally get these awesome, super-cool lessons you promised me.”
“Well, I d-didn't promise....” His voice trailed off when he saw the sudden disappoint that inadvertently appeared on my face. “Okay, okay, I'll... do it, just not now.”
“Hmm. Okay!” I said, pushing myself back again through the water. A few seconds of silence passed before I spoke up again. “Hey, Joseph?”
“Yeah?” He answered.
“I know you said you don't wanna swim, and that's okay, but... why? And I know you said the thing about not wanting to get wet, but is that the real reason?”
“Pft, y-yeah! Of course that's the real reason. What other reason could I have, yeah?” He crossed his arms. “And if you're thinking I can't swim, you're totally wrong, yeah? It's nothing like that.”
“Oh.... So does that mean the stuff you said before was a lie?”
“...H-huh?”
“That you can swim? Is it that you actually can't and just don't want me to know?”
“Wh-what?! I just s-said... I said that it was—it wasn't!--that! I can swim. Oh, can I swim! I can swim better than a, than a, than a... river. Y-yeah?”
“...You can swim better than a river?”
“Much better than a river. I'm like a river, except with fins and scales and other fishy bits.” He nodded.
“...So you're a fish?”
“I am a mental fish.”
“I'm pretty sure you're just trying to distract me.” I responded, half unamused, half extremely amused.
“I'm just making a point, yeah? I can swim.” He said with finality.
“That doesn't tell me anything, though! There has to be a reason you don't wanna swim.... I just wish you trusted me enough to tell me.”
A pang of guilt crossed his face. He turned away from me, his arms still crossed. He looked as if he was trying to put on haughty airs, as if I were in the wrong for pressing him, but his face betrayed him. There was something on his mind he desperately wanted to get out.
I swam up to the rock and rested my hand on it. “You can tell. I'm not gonna laugh.”
“I... didn't think you'd laugh... yeah?”
I paused a few moments, for effect. “So why don't you wanna swim?”
I saw his throat bob with a heavy swallow, and a moment later I heard a heavy sigh escape his throat. “It's just... I... I don't....” He made a shaking motion with one hand, as if he were half attempting to use it to articulate the missing word.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“I don't... like...” He passed a few seconds as a look of intense nausea came over his face. “I don't like taking my shirt off.... Like, in front of people, yeah?!”
I squinted, and took a moment to consider this.
“Um... that's it?”
His head jerked in my direction and one of his eyelids twitched.
“U-uh, I mean, it's just... not that big of a deal, is all. You made it seem like you were allergic to water or something.”
“I am not allergic to water!” He barked.
“O-oh... Okay, sorry.” I backed away a bit.
He swallowed and turned away again, his cheeks blushing an intense shade of red. “No, it's... fine. I'm sorry. I've just never told anyone that before.”
You haven't? I thought in surprise. It only took a moment of consideration for it to make sense. Joseph had been an orphan for a good portion of his life, and his dad had never cared much for him—but even when it made sense the thought still sent a wave of discomfort through my bowels. Even something like this? He lived without having anyone he could trust or talk to or tell secrets to? Even secrets as small as THIS?
“You, uh, you don't have to if you don't want, but maybe now would be a good chance to practice?”
He looked at me in surprise. “P-Practice?”
“Yeah, practice... You trust me, right? You trusted me enough to tell me that. Maybe now would be a perfect time to... give it a shot? P-Plus,” I went on, immediately seeing the anxiety in his expression. “You'd be able to get in the water and hide yourself right after anyway! Right?”
His jaw moved around awkwardly and he looked down at me. “I guess that's... true....”
I let a few polite seconds of silence pass and then continued urging him on: “So.... You wanna try it?”
He remained perched on his rock for a few moments, and then he glanced over at me, an uncertain expression plastered on his face. “I guess I could do that.” He answered with what sounded like a sigh and a deep breath all at the same time.
He got to his feet in a way that was uncharacteristically deliberate and stood there, looking around awkwardly.
“Not here....” He mumbled.
Joseph hopped off the rock with a surprisingly graceful motion and then walked a bit away, to where the sand met some striving blades of grass.
“Okay,” he said, “I'm, um, gonna do it, yeah?”
I smiled back at him, slightly amused at how big of a deal he was making this, and slightly guilty over my own amusement.
He swallowed, hard enough to make his entire neck bob. His hands rested by his hips, clutching the hems of his shirts, possibly more out of a need to clutch something than out of an actual intention to remove the fabric. Several moments passed.
“Um....”
“I'm gonna do it! Just me a minute... yeah? This is... really weird.”
“It's just a shirt....”
“Urgh!” He let go of the hem of his shirt. “Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, yeah?”
“No! It is a good idea! I didn't mean anything. I just.... What's wrong? Is there something you don't want me to see?”
“No.”
“Is there some reason you need to be wearing a shirt?”
“No.”
“Is there something wrong with your fu-”
“No! There is nothing wrong with me!”
I sat in silence for a moment, unsure of how to carry on without spooking him any further.
“O-Okay, look... just don't... look at me. Don't pay any attention to me, yeah? Go on with your swimming and let me have some privacy....”
“Um, okay. Just don't like wonder off into the woods.... I don't wanna be alone, and I'm kinda worried if you take your shirt off in the woods you'll never come back out.”
“Ha, ha, ha,” he laughed sardonically. “Jokes on you, yeah? I could just put the shirt back on.”
I smiled and turned my back to him, and did my best to focus on the water around me.
From the corner of my eyes, however, I could still see him standing there, in what seemed like anxiety and deep contemplation. He turned around and stood there with his back facing me.
It took several minutes, but eventually his shirt came off. He managed to turn partially sideways, but hadn't turned all the way. All I could see was the black and white fur of his back and sides, and a bit of his exposed arm.
At this point, I felt pretty confident he was hiding something from me. I wasn't sure what—maybe a scar? a weird fur pattern? third nipple?--but whatever it was, it had to be embarrassing. Overcome with curiosity, I stole frequent glances in his direction, but he was watching me, and thus caught every glance.
Feeling like I was getting nowhere, and in fact, inhibiting the natural process known as Joseph removing a shirt, I turned completely around and proceeded to ignore him in a way truer to what had been initially agreed upon.
In a few minutes, I'd mostly forgotten Joseph was even over there. I splashed some water around, using my fingers to make cool looking waves in the water; when suddenly I heard his voice and looked up.
It echoed throughout the small grove, and instead of it coming from behind like I would have expected, it had come from above.
I looked up and saw him standing on the top of a huge chuck of rock, nearly as high as the waterfall itself.
“Hey, Leo!”
“Whoa!” I responded, finding his shirtless profile—still faced away from me—standing at the top of the stone, half turned around to meet me with a grin. “How did you-!”
“-Wanna see something cool, yeah?”
“Um.... Yes?”
“Okay! Watch this!” Joseph took a backward step toward the cliff.
“Wait.... Joseph! You're not... you're not gonna...!”
Before I had a chance to inquire further, Joseph kneeled down and then launched himself back and up, into the air, over the water.
He flipped in the air, and then, with his feet aimed at the water and his back still facing me, and he fell in a way that could only be described as loosely, and then slipped into the water with a nearly imperceptible splash.
I stood there, taken aback, eyes fervently traveling the clear water for Joseph's body. I could see a black form floating in the deep end. It sprang to life and launched upward, surfacing with the ferocity of an amphibian hunter.
“Heh.” He grinned at me. “Pretty cool, right?”
I exhaled suddenly and deeply, realizing just then I'd been holding my breath the entire time. “Oh Gaol...!”
“Hehehe.” He swam toward me.
“I can't believe you just did that.”
“Did what?”
“Oh nothing. Just a backflip off the top of a cliff into a pond!”
“It's no big deal,” he said all too casually and still smiling. “It took a lot of practice to get it right, but I do it all the time, yeah?”
“You do that all the time? But that's so... dangerous!”
“It's cool, though, yeah?”
“W-Well, it's super cool. It's probably the coolest thing I have ever seen anyone do. Ever. ...But that doesn't-”
“-Then that's all that matters, yeah?”
“Of course that isn't all that-!”
“-Don't worry about it.” He swam around me in circles. “I'm a professional.”
I frowned.
“Hehehe,” he slipped under the water and swam out to the deep end, his form disappearing into the glare of the sun.
A thought hit me: the shirt! He isn't wearing it!
When Joseph swam back up, I did my best to keep my eyes level with his, but couldn't resist occasional glances toward his now exposed chest. The water made it difficult to see the details, and he seldom came out above his neck, but from what I could gather, there was... nothing particularly odd about it.
In fact, it was nice. His muscles were tight and developed, and there didn't seem to be even a fragment of unneeded mass on his body. Even with my little knowledge of art, the first thought to came to my mind was one of sculptures, and how with a few years of training and growth, Joseph could make an excellent model.
But why? I thought. If there is nothing wrong with him, why was he so nervous about removing his shirt in front of me? Could he just be shy?
I cocked an eyebrow and squinted at him.
He doesn't really... seem shy.
A large wave of water shot toward my face an instant after Joseph surfaced.
“Hey!”
He dived back down, dodging the wave I sent flying in his direction. When he came back out, he spit a stream of water from his mouth and grinned. “You're gonna have to try harder than that if you wanna splash me.”
Another small tsunami of water coated my face and the air around me. I reflexively sent more water in his direction before I'd even opened my eyes, but dived before I could see if it made contact or not.
He resurfaced again, this time further away. “Hehehe.”
“That's no fair! I can't get you if you're all the way out there in the deep end!”
“Why don't you just swim out here and join me, yeah?”
I frowned and sent another wave of water in his direction. He slipped under the water and came back up when it settled. “Oh yeah,” he drawled, “I almost forgot....”
“That's no fair at all! You said you were gonna teach me how to swim.”
“Of course. But only after I have some fun first, yeah?”
“Tch!” I crossed my arms and pushed myself backward toward shore.
“Aww, come on, don't be like that, yeah?”
“Try getting me over here....”
His eyes moved in a strange, squinty way and an instant later, he slipped beneath the surface and shot in my direction. I stood up a bit straighter, suddenly regretting my words.
When he made it within a few feet, he paused under the water and stared at me as if he were in planning. I readied myself, and a few moments later he shot up from the water. We both sent a typhoon's worth of water in the others respective direction.
“I got you!”
“Hmpf! You satisfied now?” He floated on his back, eyes to the sky.
“Yes,” I said with a smug smile. “But I still want to know how to swim and you don't have any excuses now!”
He looked over at me with surprise. “I guess I did say I would....”
“Yep! And now you don't have any more excuses.”
“You already said that, yeah? Like five seconds ago.”
“Yes, because I wanna make sure you don't try to get out of it.”
“Okay,” he sighed and swam over to me. “Now that you can see I can swim, you know that wasn't why I was avoiding it before.”
“Uh huh.”
“The truth is, I was more worried about the actual... teaching part, yeah?”
I thought the shirt thing was the problem.... I remarked internally.
“I don't think I've ever been taught anything before,” he went on. “Other than Scott teaching me about the wealth dis-par-rity and stuff. But that's different. He didn't actually teach me how to dis-pair-ridge wealth, yeah?”
I cocked an eyebrow.
“What I mean is I don't know anything about teaching, yeah? I've never really seen how to do it.”
“So the problem isn't the swimming; you just don't know how to teach?”
“Yeah....” He frowned a bit, floating on his back again. “I'm not sure where to begin, yeah?”
“So...” I squinted. “Nobody taught you how to swim...? How did you learn, then?”
“How I learned most things.... I taught myself.”
“You taught yourself...? But that's.... You just jumped in the water and figured it out?”
“W-Well, yeah....” He spoke with a sudden lack of confidence. “I didn't have a choice, yeah?”
A brief silence passed over us as I considered this in depth.
Did he really not have anyone to teach him how to swim? Did he not have anyone to teach him anything? How did he survive all this time like this? Out here in the woods doing flips and swimming like some kind of amphibious fur monster?
“But I'll teach you. Learning stuff without a teacher sucks, yeah?” He looked at me with a half-smile. “You'll just have to... bear with me a bit.”
“Hmm, okay. Um, thanks. I dunno if I could have done this on my own.”
“Heh, you'd be surprised the kinds of things you can do on your own when you really want to, yeah? Anyway,” he swam a bit closer. “I guess we should start off by... paddling, I guess. If you try to learn in the shallow end, it'll be a lot easier; that's how I learned.”
“O-Oh, okay.” I swam forward a bit, where I could still reach the sand below with my feet. “And, um, if I slip into the deep end on accident, you'll... pull me out, right?”
“No, I'm just gonna let you drown and die so be extra careful.”
I frowned and he grinned in response. “Yeah, thanks....”
“Okay, start paddling. The sooner you learn to do this, the sooner we can race.”
“I'm pretty sure it'll take me a little while before I can race you....”
“Yeah, yeah, sure. Just start paddling. While we're young, yeah?”
Worried about teaching, huh? But you're already doing such a great job....
I pushed against the sand and struggled to pull myself forward with my hands. Several times I had the sensation I'd gotten the hang of it, but each time my chin sank below the waterline and my feet reflexively went down to the sandy floor to push me up.
“Okay, um, try to... smack the water a little less.”
“What?” I called out over the cacophony of splashing—from both my hands and the waterfall.
“You're splashing too much, yeah? Swimming isn't like that. Swimming is a... fishy kinda motion.”
I stopped swimming and looked over at him. “...What is a fishy kind of motion?”
His face scrunched up, as if he were simultaneously in deep thought and slight pain. “It's... like... moving like a fish does, yeah?”
“What does that even mean?!”
“Ehh, don't worry about it. Just try swimming again. This time with less... flailing.”
“Okay...” I pushed off and made another, less aggressive, attempt. I immediately failed, so quickly that it made me realize my previous form had been slightly less awful. I started kicking my legs harder to make up for the loss in force coming from my arms, which helped, but it only brought me to about the same level of success I'd been at prior.
“This isn't working!”
“Oh, yeah, I know.” He remarked, a hand on his chin. “This is going awful. Maybe you'll just never be able to swim, yeah?”
I frowned, harder than I had yet. “It's been like five minutes!”
“Yes, but the first five minutes is the most important five minutes, yeah?” He leaned back and floated on his back. “If you can't get it in the second five minutes, I'd say you're doomed.”
“Grrr,” I splashed water in his direction. “You're not doing much teaching, you know?”
He spit water from his mouth. “I dunno what to teach you, though. Like I said, I learned to do this on my own, yeah? On account of my natural talent.”
I took a moment to reconsider why I ever even stopped frowning, as it would be much easier to just maintain it around him.
I sighed. “Okay... I think the problem is that... I just don't know what to do. I'm trying to mimic what you do, but it just isn't working.”
“You want me to show you again?” He offered.
“Yes; I have another idea too, though. Swim over here.”
He did as I asked, and I studied his strides as best I could over the short distance.
“Okay, I'm gonna try to do what you did, but, I want you to hold me up. Every time I try to do it, I... I end up sinking and my legs get all messed and my body bends and I just can't move right. I think if you help keep me straight I'll be able to figure it out.”
Joseph's eyebrows sank and his jaw went loose. It looked as if his chest had sucked up all the tension in his body.
“You... want me to hold you up... yeah?” He looked down at the water in open-lipped contemplation, and then up at me, and then quickly shifted to look past me, as if he could no longer maintain eye contact.
“Uh huh. You're okay with this... right?”
“Yeah... yeah.... It's just, um....” His eyes darted back and forth. “I-I... I'd have to... touch you, yeah?”
I leaned in a bit, feeling I'd misheard him. “Uh, what?”
“We'd have t-to... touch. Like, if I held you up, yeah? I'd have to... lift you... with my hands.”
“Y---es? What's the problem?”
“Um.... That's gay, yeah?”
Several moments of silence passed between us.
I blinked. “What's... gay?”
He pulled back in shock, but stopped himself short of flabbergastery. “You don't know what gay is?”
“I-I mean.... I've heard the word. But, no, I dunno.”
“Um, gay is... it's, uh... it's like when... two guys... like, um, kinda like, they....” His hands went to fists and back to hands again, moving around the entire while. “Uh, they like... um, you know... they, uh... you know, yeah? Like, you know. Yeah?”
“I don't know what any of that meant.”
He cringed a bit. “Gay is... two guys... like, doing... gay stuff. Touchy stuff. Fish stuff, yeah?” The tip of his tail flipped out of the water and smacked against the surface like a trout.
“F-Fish stuff?” I said with mild alarm. “What is fish stuff?”
“You know....”
“No! No, I don't!”
“Fish stuff. Slimy stuff. Touchy-feely stuff, yeah?”
“Touchy-feely stuff...? You mean, like... what a boy and a girl do when they like each other...?”
“Yeah, that kinda thing, yeah?”
“Oh....” I furled my brow. “How is this like that at all?”
“It's because I'd be.... touching you. And, neither of us are really dressed and, and, it just seems gay, yeah? Really gay.”
“...Doesn't seem all that gay to me.” I muttered.
“Well it is! It's gay. It's super gay and super fishy and, and e-even if it isn't, I'm not gonna do it. I can't do that; it's too weird!”
I responded with a dead-pan. “Yeah, okay.”
He cocked a brow. “...Anyway, since I can't be over there getting all... fishy with you, you're just gonna have to figure out how to do it by watching me.”
“Uh huh.” I turned away. “ I guess I don't have much of a choice.”
This time it was Joseph's turn to frown. “Come on.... Don't be like that....”
“No, it's fine.”
“... It doesn't sound fine, yeah?”
“No, really. It's okay.”
Joseph watched me make faulty attempts at swimming for a few moments before he sighed loudly and swam over. “Okay, I'll... try it. I'll see if I can hold you up, yeah? But I'm not gonna do this long—and you better not tell anyone about this. Ever. Ever ever.”
A smile spread out over my lips. “Okay! I promise.”
“Good.” He moved over to me. “Okay, so.... How do we do this, yeah?”
“I was thinking I'd just hop up and you'd hold me up in your arms. That way I could get a better feel for swimming when I'm up high enough.”
“...And this is supposed to help how?”
“I dunno if it will help. I just wanna try it.”
He swallowed. “Alright, whatever, yeah? Let's just... do this, yeah?”
“Mmmk, put your hand on my belly.”
Joseph looked down toward my belly and pulled his lower lip into his mouth. “You want me to put my hand on your belly?”
“Yeah.” I nodded.
His hands clenched into fists. Our eyes met and he quickly looked away, but immediately looked back up at me.
“...Is something wrong?” I asked.
“Um....” His cheeks began to redden and he breathing quickened. “It's just... um....” He reached out for my stomach under the water, reluctantly.
“Uh, Joseph?”
He closed his eyes and pressed his lips so tightly together they looked white. His hand approached me, but the closer it came to touching me, the slower it moved. A few inches shy of my belly button, he came to a stop and opened his eyes, a look of crushing anxiety and paralyzing fear on his face.
“I-I-I'm sorry. I can't do this.” He turned away and swam off, his eyes wide and his cheeks glowing.
“O-Oh....”
He made an attempt to walk up on the shore, but after a quick downward glance--presumably to his exposed chest--he backpedaled into the water. He remained facing away from me, wringing his hand nervously, probably picking at one of his claws.
“Hey, um, I'm... sorry. I didn't realize it made you so uncomfortable.... I knew it made you uncomfortable, but I didn't-”
“-It's okay.”
My shoulders slumped in the resulting silence.
“I just... I can't do that, yeah? I can't touch other people... like that. And don't ask me why; I don't know. I just can't do it.”
“Okay. I'm-” I stopped myself. “...It won't happen again, alright?”
“Okay. Thank you... yeah?”
I stood there watching him for several moments. He continued to face away from me, his head aimed toward the water. I couldn't see his face, but a strong sensation of guilt told me the look on it was dejected.
“So, um.... We can get out if you want to.” I offered.
“No,” he almost whispered, but caught himself and raised his voice. “We don't have to do that. Just keep practicing your swimming.”
I pouted a bit. “Okay...” I pushed myself back into the water and flipped around to practice my strokes, but the moment I went to put my foot down to stop my slow descent into the water, I suddenly realized there was no ground to put my foot down on.
I'd pushed back too far, and in the sudden panic of my head bobbing under water, I ended up pushing myself back further, into an even more helpless position. Thankfully, the flail was enough to get my head above long enough to loudly choke on water.
The last thing I saw before everything went murky and blue was Joseph flipping around. Beyond the instinctive reaction of my lungs being suddenly filled with water, I wasn't afraid. I knew in just a few moments Joseph would wrangle me free from the water; if anything, I felt guilty, because I knew now how much the physical contact would-
-Before I could completely vocalize the understanding in my thoughts, an arm wrapped around my waist, pulled me against something warm and alive, and yanked me to the surface.
I gasped in shock, not sure whether it came from the fact I'd at first doubted the thing grabbing me was Joseph, or the surprise in finding him there, pulling me over to far shallower part of the pond.
Actually, it was probably just me gasping for air.
I coughed and spit a few times, rubbing my nose in pain. “Ugh,” I forced between coughs. “That all went... straight into my nose.”
Joseph snorted. “Yeah, that tends to happen when you breathe water, yeah? Don't recommend it.”
“Thanks,” I replied sarcastically, still coughing. “I'll try to remember that.”
“No problem. I live to please, yeah?”
It was my turn to snort.
What I wanted to say to him was thanks for moving like a lightning bolt and for shocking me about as much as a lightning bolt would, but something inside me said not to mention it. It seemed vain to think Joseph wouldn't have moved so quickly for just anybody, and presumptuous to insinuate it by mentioning his pace, but mentally I couldn't help but regard it with some degree of competing emotions—emotions that by and large made me feel good.
There had been something satisfying in seeing the abject shock in his expression when he turned around to see me sinking. Despite the cold wind blowing against wet fur, chilling me to the bone, I felt a warmness that went deeper than the bone. A sort of warmth I'd last felt with Mrs. Shire and that I'd missed desperately.
That night I slept soundly.
Chapter Six
Gregory
Gregory pushed back his perpetually damp covers and threw his legs over the side of his stiff mattress. He rested his head in his hands.
I can't sleep....
He had a small, brown, block room at the end of a hall connected to several other identical rooms. Each with a single bed, a single desk, and a single candle. Every Alchemist that lived in the Alchemist's Cave had their room in that hallway—all except for Phreqs, who allegedly did not sleep and did all of his work in view of the rest of the coven.
'It is to amplify his anguish.' Ken had told him. 'Sometimes he will drift off, maybe an hour a week. But that's usually all, and sometimes he even does that with his eyes open.'
Gregory had almost laughed when he heard, but Ken had made no indication it was a joke, and Phreqs had given him no reason to doubt the truth of it.
The moment Gregory was out of sight, he'd shuddered all over.
What kind of madness is this? He'd thought, suddenly terrified. How is that... humanely possible?
He rose from his bed and moved toward the door. “Is it even still dark out....? He mumbled.
I'll go check. I need some fresh air anyway.
Emerging into the hallway told him nothing. The walls were made of the same large, chiseled, stone blocks, and on the walls were red torches.
Blood torches.... He thought. Torches that never go out. Not as long as the one who lit them still lives....
The idea of blood torches had always disturbed him, even when he had still believed them to be a myth. His grandfather had told him stories about them, about how it was rumored there were cults who lived underground that never had to surface. They used dark magicks and underground creatures to sustain their lives. He claimed these 'cults' had discovered the magick needed to create blood torches, and they had done so to continue their necromancy and ancient Fractilizations in the peace of the inner Izyadro seclusion.
Does that mean they're real...? I'd always thought it was just a story. It might have been just a story. But who's to say anymore? Everything I've ever thought I'd known has turned out to be a lie....
This thought made him uncomfortable. He pushed it from his mind and pushed on.
The hallways of the Alchemist's Cave were empty, as usual. Most of the Alchemist's were either out on business, in their rooms doing research, or performing rituals somewhere in the Cave.
I should probably be reading right now. I still haven't finished that book Phreqs gave me. Gregory arrived at the steps leading up to the entrance of the Cave. He moved up and squinted at the bright lights peaking through the cracked wood of the door above. To study it and to reread it, and to do whatever necessary to understand it. That's what he told me to do, but... that's easier said than done. The whole thing is poems and aphorisms. Nothing new for occultic literature, but this is... different. It seems important, like the words do add up, like it's all for a reason, like the weird poems and the strange comparisons... like they're all there for a reason. But that's not enough. This isn't something I can just rush through and hope it makes sense at the end. I have to understand this. I have to understand it all.
According to Phreqs, it holds all the answers.
Gregory opened the door slowly, putting one hand in front of his eyes as he moved forward into the moist, forest air.
It's so bright out here compared to the Alchemist's Cave... but it smells so good, and the warm air feels so nice.
He closed the door behind him and stood there for awhile, letting the warmth wash over him and letting the smell of fresh pine wash his senses clear of the scent of moss and wet earth. After a few minutes of letting his eyes adjust, he moved forward, appreciating the world in a way he'd never done before.
It feels so good out here.... Everything looks... so beautiful.
The morning sun gleamed, the tip of it poking just above the treeline of the forest. A thick mist covered the forest, glowing gray, wafting around, thick enough to look like speckles of dust.
Even heavy mist is drier than the Cave....
He put his hand out and lifted the stem of a bush with far reaching blossoms. He let it sit in his hand, soft and green. He rubbed the leaves between his fingers and then smelled the vine like it was a flower.
Is this really the right place for me? He thought, his lips curling down into a frown. Am I really an Alchemist? And if I'm not, how long can I pretend to be one...?
He let the vine go. It bounced a few times and then returned to bobbing gently in the wind. But where else is there to go? What other place would have me? What other place would I be happy?
He kept on slowly walking, letting his head turn from side to side, taking in every inch of beautiful forest, inhaling the scent of nature deep into his lungs. But it's so dark in there.... It's so dreary. All the Alchemist's I've met are weird, and the texts they study are weirder, and I knew that was a threat when I set out for this place, but that seemed... less of a problem when I thought they might be a hoax. I guess I knew deep down magick was real, but... when I could doubt it still, when I wasn't sure, then things didn't seem so....
He sighed, ashamed to even be thinking it. I guess things didn't seem so real then. Blood torches and blood candles and blood magick didn't exist. The subtle arts of manipulation and control and devastation and the soul.... It wasn't this serious before. It was a distraction. It was a hope veiled in shadows, but now....
...But now there's Phreqs. There is an alleged man who doesn't sleep. A man who carries a scythe bigger than his own body. A man who thrives on anguish, who has followers, who has books of power and magicks that.. I couldn't even begin to imagine.
Gregory put a hand on his chest. His heart pounded.
I didn't know all of this was real. I didn't know magick was... this.
I want to go home.
But... I came here because I don't have a 'home' in the first place.
At least not a real one....
Gregory kept moving forward, deeper into the brush.
I could leave if I wanted to.... I could run away.
No more wet, cold rooms and no more scythes and no more... no more Peaches. I could put down occultic literature for good. I'd never have to pick it up again. And then maybe I'd... I'd forget. Maybe I'd become a normal person again.
Maybe things would stop hurting so much.
He stopped. His mind went blank like it had so many times in the past. He stared straight ahead, into the bushes, the vines, and trees, watching as the amalgamation of green and brown mingled into an indescribably intricate display of utter pointlessness.
No.
I'll never be normal.
I'll never put down the literature.
This is my only chance of things ever getting better.
If the Alchemist's are not... my people. Gregory stopped and looked up at the sky, deep into the blue-gray mist, covering the sun like a thick, wet blanket. If this place isn't my home....
He swallowed. Then I know what has to be done. I'll-
“Hello.”
Gregory jerked his head to the right. Sitting on a large rock, encased in a cocoon of trees and thick bushes was a woman, her dark crimson Alchemist robes pulled up halfway across her pale yellow thighs.
His eyes widened. “Oh, um... h-hello. I didn't see you there. Hello.” He turned his head away, but looked back a moment later. “S-Sorry. Sorry for, for um, interrupting. If I did.”
She cocked her head and stared at him. Silence lingered between them for several smothering moments, until finally she laughed aloud.
“And what exactly is it you think you interrupted?”
Gregory looked back at her, at first confused. His look of confusion turned to shock, and then to horror. “ O-Oh, no, no, nothing like... nothing like that. I mean, nothing at all, I just wasn't sure. You were out here alone, and... I just kinda appeared... and I just-”
“-Hmm, yes,” she cooed. “And you assumed I was doing the only thing a young lady would head out into the woods alone to do, yes?” She smiled at him and spoke with a slow, careful meticulousness, with a confidence he'd never heard from a woman before—it was a tone he'd only ever heard from the loftiest and haughtiest nobles.
A tone just like the most conceited and blindly self-important of the Fox Kin....
“And don't lie,” she went on, still smiling coolly. “Your blush will betray you if you do.”
He pursed his brow a bit. If she is a noble, then I know how deal with her.
He straightened his spine and tightened his expression.“I only meant to be polite. I meant nothing by the comment; I was just caught off guard.” He put his arm in front of his belly and bowed a few inches. “Please forgive me.”
Several oppressive moments of silence passed, then she laughed again, this time harder. “You're a strange one! I tease you and you respond by treating me like a princess?” Her smile turned mischievous. “Do you treat every pretty, young girl like a princess??
His neck tightened and a blush crept up on his cheeks. He desperately probed his mind for something clever to say, some kind of quip, something at least passable, but nothing came to him. Only silence and surprise. He'd always known what to say when his cousins had talked down to him, how to diffuse the situation or what quip to make if he was sore.
But no noble would ever speak like that.... He thought. Nobles never address the fact that they're nobles. They never consider that their nobility is anything less than natural. To them, it should be obvious to everybody just by looking at them.
“Fen got your tongue?” She gave him a mocking look and then laughed again when he averted his eyes. “Enough.” She said, ushering him over with a gentle motion of the fingers. “Let us talk normally now. I suspect that the first, stuttering you, was the real you—not this overly formal one. Had your reaction not amused me so much, I'd regret teasing you.”
Gregory pursed his brow a bit. 'I suspect the first you was the real you... not this one.'
She speaks strangely. Every word is started with elegance and said to completion. And she says things that... require thought.
Gregory took a few reluctant steps forward.
“My name is Alexandra.”
“I'm Gregory.”
“Gregory... the fox.” She spoke slowly, like she were tasting the words. “It has a nice ring to it. I can't say I see many foxes in the Alchemists of the Moth.”
“Alexandra the viper. That also has a nice ring to it.”
She burst out in laughter again, this time harder.
Even when she laughs it's calm and under control. Is it possible that she's not a noble? I've never met a peasant like her before.... He ended the thought and pinched himself on the arm. ---Stop doing that. People aren't peasants anymore....
“Impressive.” Alexandra cooed. “I don't believe I have ever been surprised so many times in such a short conversation. And yes, your eyes are keen—I am indeed a 'viper.' Though there are many vipers, and not many foxes. You are far more... interesting.”
Did the viper comment really not offend her? Even if it didn't, it was so obvious that I was slighting her....
...Did she not notice?
“There may be more northerners,” Gregory began. “But not many of them leave the north. I've heard plenty of interesting tales about what goes on up there, far more interesting than what goes on in the Royal Covens. In fact... some of the things I've heard have been rather strange.”
“Oh? Strange?”
“Yes. I hear that northerners... don't care. They don't care about anything at all. Th-That... they don't care about dying.”
Alexandra smiled and blinked heavily.
“I heard once that if you put a blade to the neck of any solider, even that of the Dominion, they'll cry out for their lives—but if you threaten to kill a northerner they'll just laugh.”
“Mmm, yes, I am familiar with that old wives' tale. It is spoken about up north more than anywhere, since it seems to bring infinite pleasure to the northron warriors.” She chuckled. “And yes, I must admit, there is... a grain of truth to every spec of sand.”
“So it's true?”
“Well, the northron warriors are men, and the common folk are the same. They have fears and worries just like anybody else, and some are stronger than others.... But enough of that. What else do you find strange about us? Surely it isn't just because we're careless?”
Careless...? Does she mean carefree?
“I find it strange how... northerners speak.”
“Oh? She cooed. “And how do we speak that is so strange?”
“You... um, well, the north... they speak so... differently. D-Differently than any other places. Even differently from themselves, which I guess is what makes it is so... peculiar.”
“We speak differently from ourselves? Sounds challenging.”
“I mean that I've met a few northerners and... they all kinda act differently. You're the strangest... I... I mean you're, um.... the most different.”
“But how are we different from any other place? What makes us unique from the Republic on our borders? Wouldn't the Republic, a place that is united by means of its divisiveness, be the same as we are? The Republic hasn't even managed to unify the ban on slavery yet; how are they so alike as to exclude the north to a class of their own?”
“It's... more that the north is so strange. There are customs that... the world recognizes. Things that seem to be intrinsic to man. Yet the north seems to have rebelled against them.”
Her smiled widened. “My, my, you know an awful lot about the north.”
I blushed again, though I wasn't sure why this time. “N-No, nothing like that. I just... kinda see it. It's from what I've heard and read. They don't play the same games at court that other places do, despite still having a king. They don't have the same.. standards. I don't know how to explain it.”
“I believe I know what you are trying to describe. We call it 'respecting the jester.'”
“Ah, yes! That's one of the things I find strange, that jesters are so... important in your society. And among all the united northern clans.”
“It's not so much that they are important, as that they are not belittled. A person can do as they please in the Kingdom of Pianduan. It is recognized that we are all flawed, that we are different. Even the king himself accepts this. There is no Gaol ordained position. Only Gaol ordained luck.”
Gaol ordained luck....
“...Is is true that people will sometimes mouth off to the king himself? I've always heard kings were infamous for taking off people's heads, and that the soft ones always had to deal with revolution.”
“Not true at all. Leng Shou can demand both respect and honesty from his children, and the people of Pianduan recognize this. They love him for it. They love him because he is like them.”
Gregory put a hand on his chin. “I... see.”
“So do you still believe us to be more interesting than the fox kin?” She asked with a teasing tone.
“I believe you to be far more interesting than I thought before. I've heard so little about the north.”
She laughed. “I suppose that is to be expected. The Fen never finds his own tail as fascinating as the tail next to him. Though I insist that while we may be stranger, the foxes are more interesting.”
Gregory cocked an eyebrow at this. “But... aren't they kind of the same thing? Strange and interesting?”
“Are they? Must everything strange be interesting?”
“I... suppose not. But don't they normally come together? What commonplace things are interesting?”
Alexandra shifted her legs over until her whole body was facing Gregory. His eyes went down toward them. Her tan legs were parted an inch, and her crimson red alchemist robe was pulled up to her mid-thigh. “I don't know. What commonplace things are interesting, Gregory the fox?”
He swallowed and forced himself to meet her gaze. Alexandra the viper....
“I only argue that my people are strange, yes, but not very interesting. When strangeness grows around other strangeness, it all tends to meld together. So while all the northern vipers of the Eastern continent are strange, they are strange together—uniformly. The thing that makes them so weird and unique to the rest of the world all comes from the same place. They 'respect the jester' and that is the true origin of the northern quirk. It is a tree that grows strange fruits, each one unique and strange in its own away, but you can only see so many strange fruits before the idea of strange fruits becomes commonplace.”
“So you're saying they all developed this trait... strangeness, but they did it together, all at the same time, so... it made them uninteresting. But still strange?”
“Yes. They all speak uniquely, and they're strange because they 'respect the jester' in a world that doesn't normally, but that uniqueness is the same sort of uniqueness. They do not fear death, but that is because they do not fear, because they do not care, and that not caring underlies everything that they do.” She shrugged. “It is rather dull when you get to the core of it all.”
“Then... maybe they're not interesting. But if all that's true, they're not strange, either.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Oh?”
“That thing that you call 'strange' is just... them. It's who they are. It's that unifying element that makes them... them. Instead of just individuals. It is them. Strangeness would be someone who in someway was not the same thing they are.”
Her smile widened. “Mmm, are all cute foxes as surprising as you are?”
“Uh-...” Gregory froze. “Um, I d-don't-”
She laughed again. “You are adorable.” She scooted forward a bit on her rock, making her dress rise even further. The light was beginning to illuminate her dark hair, and Gregory did everything he could to make himself look away. “Let me ask you something, Gregory the fox. Are we the same?”
“Huh?” Gregory's ear flicked with confusion. “Are... we the same?”
“Yes. You said that my people are all the same, didn't you? You said that... 'unifying factor,' was it? You said it made them what they are, and you said those to whom it does not apply to its fullest degree were not the same, that they were not the fullest degree of the conception 'one with my people?' So I'm asking you, Gregory: are we the same? Does this unifying factor called 'The Alchemists of the Moth' make us the same? Or if that is not enough; the central tenets or even the particular elements common to our members—are they also 'common to our ilk?' So to speak? Can we not be strange to each other?”
“Um, w-well, I... I suppose... no. No, we're not.”
She raised her eyebrows in a look of amusement.
“O-Oh, it's because, um, I'm not really an Alchemist yet. I don't even really know what the Alchemists are about yet.... I mean, I-I do, but, you know... the details.... I need more time. And I haven't gotten my mark yet.”
She cocked her head a bit and got to her feet. “And if you did have your mark? If you knew all the dirty secrets of our little organization....” She approached him. “If you knew everything about us; if you knew everything about Phreqs....” She stopped a couple steps in front of him. “Would you be one of us? Would we be the same?”
Gregory could see her pale yellow flesh glistening in the faint light penetrating the mist. The crimson robes had tumbled down and covered her legs, but now that she was standing, he was aware of her chest and her hips, and he could see her face better, with a more penetrating focus and detail.
Goal, she's... she's really....
“I... guess so.” He said, a couple notches quieter than before. “I-I would be an Alchemist then. So, yes, that would define me. I would be an Alchemist of the Moth. And you would too. We'd... be the same, i-in a way.”
Without a word, she reached up and slipped one shoulder out of her robe and then the other. Gregory watched her chest, his cheeks burning hotter by the second.
What...?
The robe came down calmly but swiftly, until her chest was exposed and her breasts were dangling in front of him, utterly exposed.
She's... showing me her.... That was as far as his line of thoughts got before he noticed the faint glowing purple on her chest. It was not an elaborate symbol, nor was it a simple one. It was a circle superimposed over a square, simple symbols on the outside following the diameter in equal distribution, as well as at the edges of the square.
“This is my marking, Gregory. We all get one, as you already know. But what you may not have known is that every marking is different. Every marking is invoked by a Master, but is created within us, in our image. It is unique, based on our souls, on our bodies, on our proclivities in life and in Magick. And nobody can can read them other than a Grandmaster. Not the Alchemist who wears it, not the Alchemist who conjured it, and not any other Master who has not yet mastered the Highest Art of Alchemy.” She lifted her robe and covered herself.
Gregory's eyes rose. He'd only just then realized he'd been staring the entire time.
“If there was ever any doubt in your heart that we are individuals here, let this marking be the proof. It is the irrefutable, indisputable confirmation from Gaol and from the lesser deities and from the active agents of Alchemy that we are unique. Unique, even though we are one. Strange as individuals, even when we as a group become commonplace. Now, tell me something, Gregory the fox.... How many markings did you see on the circle?”
His eyes widened with shock. “Wh-What?”
She smiled again. “How many markings did you see around my circle. It is a simple question.”
His cheeks burned even hotter. “Um...” He whispered, his voice fading a moment later.
She burst out laughing again, this the loudest outburst yet. “This world contains a lot of beauty, Gregory. It contains magnificent things that are beyond description, fragrances that have the power to invoke memories, and even memories that have the power to invoke aromas; but don't allow yourself to be blinded by the light. Don't let yourself be perpetually distracted by the cacophony, all of which will clamber endlessly for your attention. Don't look to the left or to the right...” She paused, looked down at her chest, and then looked back up at him smiling mischievously. “You have to look straight ahead, and you have to see through whatever lies in your path. That's what it means to be an Alchemist of the Moth.”
He stood there, speechless, trying to not look too much like an idiot.
She walked forward until she was next to him. She put a hand on his shoulder and spoke lowly into his ear:
“And remember, these markings are only proof. They're not the only things that make us unique. The Alchemists of the Moth group does not define us, but we define it. And to say otherwise....” She chuckled. “Well, that is to say that everything in this world is just what a young, lonely girl goes out to the woods alone to do.”
Alexandra moved past him without another word, and disappeared into the woods.
A young... lonely girl?
He swallowed and then took a long, shaky breath.
Alexandra.... Alexandra the Viper.
Chapter Seven
“Come o---n,” Joseph drawled. “I promise; it isn't that hard, yeah?”
“It is extremely that hard!” I called back, narrowly avoiding an overgrown root sticking out of the ground. “I can barely walk all the way to the spot without a nap. You except me to do a backflip off a tree?”
“You don't need to be able to walk a long time to do a backflip--though we should probably work on that!—but it's not super important, yeah? At least not for the flip! A flip is totally different. Totally, totally different!”
“...You're missing the point.”
“I'm not interested in points, yeah? I'm interested in flips!”
I sighed. “You remember what happened last time?”
“Yes, you slipped on the tree and scraped your leg.”
“Yes, and it still hurts. I'm not trying to run at the same tree and do the same thing and hurt myself again.”
“So you'll try it on a different tree, yeah?”
I sighed and walked on, the brush clearing out into faint spots of sunlit grass. Were walking back to West-End from 'the spot,' and we were almost there.
“Is that a yes?”
“No!” I shot back in exasperation. “Look, we'll... talk about it later. We're almost back.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
I shook my head.
We emerged from the woods not long after and began trekking around the side of West-End through the unkempt field. We rounded the corner of the building, where it cleared out into weeds and dandelions.
“Oh. Well, would you look who it is?”
I gasped, immediately recognizing the small band of boys leaned up against the side wall.
The red-haired boy next to the speaker chuckled softly and took a drag from his pipe.
Joseph stopped, and I stopped along with him. I looked up at his face and found a strange expression. It seemed deliberately blanked, but I could tell it'd been just as surprised as mine a moment ago. He continued walking, looking straight ahead as if Blon didn't exist.
“I don't think he heard you,” The red-haired boy, Ant, spoke with an alarmingly deep voice. --No, maybe not deep, but with something reminiscent of sternness, definitely not fit for someone so young.
“Look. Who it is.”
Joseph turned to face him, still walking away. Blon chuckled.
“Hey, I'm trying to talk to you, Fen.”
I jolted a bit. Fen was the name of our race. The usage was technically correct on Blon's part, but that did little to make up for the condemning way he said it. Joseph stopped walking, but kept his eyes forward.
“That's better. I know you're a Fen and all, but that's really no excuse for bad manners.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Sounds like you could use some schoolin'.”
Ant laughed out loud, far louder than I'd ever heard him laugh before.
“Think that's funny, do ya? Well you're gonna love this. Kitty cat, I've got a real surprise for you. See, I'm in a good mood right now, so I'm gonna give ya a free lesson—that's right, totally free.”
Ant shook his head, a pleased yet strangely complex smile on his face. He toked his pipe again. Blon approached us.
“He doesn't need a lesson. His manners are fine.” I wanted to append a 'better than yours' at the end, but my courage failed me at the last instant.
Joseph's head snapped in my direction, his eyes wide.
Blon stopped moving.
“Oh, is that so? So the little runt has got a voice after all?”
From the corner of my eye, I noticed Ant's head turn to face me. I had little energy to devote to the evaluation of his expression, but the anger I'd expected to find was not there, and in it's stead I found amused curiosity.
“You shoulda just stayed quiet.”
“Shut up, Lucky,” Blon fired back. My eyes shot over to him, surprised to find him standing there. Somehow, I'd forgotten he was there at all.
“Listen,” Blon continued, walking towards me again. “It looks like I'm gonna have to start with you cause you don't even have the decency to stay quiet when nobody is talking to you. --Hey, that's a first lesson: shut up.” He stopped a few inches from me, a few inches too close.
Joseph turned back to look at us, his eyes wide, an energy in his expression I'd never seen before.
“Okay, now for lesson two. When you're talkin' to your elders, you don't talk back. You got that? You remember your first day here, right? Yeah, yeah, you remember that. That's what I like about little kids; they got these faces that answer everything for them, even the shit they don't wanna say.”
Joseph's hands clenched into fists. I noticed Ant's and Lucky's gazes shift over to him.
“So if you don't want that to happen again, or, y'know, worse shit than that—and I'll tell you right now I'm capable of some shit—then you better listen closely to lesson two. I don't like people talkin' back to me or talkin' bad to me. You got that?”
Ant half-coughed, half-laughed.
I stood completely still and did my best to conceal my trembling. I desperately wanted to come back with some clever quip, or, if not clever, something rebellious, disrespectful, anything to show him that I didn't care what he said, but even with Joseph by my side, the words didn't come. My mind was devoid of any thoughts other than 'please stop,' and 'I wish this were over.'
“I said you got that, you twerpy little Fen runt?” He reached out and flicked me on the nose.
I pulled back and gasped, grabbing my nose in pain. Tears filled my eyes.
“Hey, stop messing with him.” Joseph's face seemed marginally more serious than his soft, pleading voice.
Blon snorted. “Just because you're technically older than me doesn't mean lesson two doesn't apply to you too, pussy. Or was there something else you wanted to say to me?” Blon approached, stepping even closer to him than he had to me.
Joseph's eyes locked with his, but quickly darted away. They went back up to meet Blon's, but darted away again, and did not return a third time.
“That's what I thought.... Lesson three: learn your place.” Blon tapped Joseph's cheek. Joseph recoiled, but kept his place.
Ant chuckled and brought the pipe to his mouth once again. “What's lesson four?” He spoke gratingly slow.
“Lesson four...” Blon looked at the ground for a moment, and then nodded slowly. “Lesson four.... Lesson four, alright. Lesson four is the one about punishment. Cause Gor' knows I can't be lettin' my kids run amock.”
“Can't have that.” Ant said. “How're you gonna punish 'im?”
“You know... I've had this thing I've been wanting to try out for awhile. It's a simple little exercise. Make sure everybody knows their place and have them pay their respects to me at the same time. But, you know...” Blon looked Joseph dead in the eye and squinted. “I'm only saying this cause it was a free lesson. If you were willing to compensate for it, maybe I could save lesson four for later.”
“Ha,” Ant laughed. “You know Joseph's never got a tak to his name.”
“Hmf. Yeah. True,” Blon looked disappointed. “I know. I knew from the start, too. I guess I just wanted to hear him say it. --Make us all hear how worthless he is, in every, single, way.” He chortled.
I looked up at Joseph and found his eyes still downcast, his aspect just as troubled as earlier. No remarkable changes had come about his expression, but something formless gave the impression that whatever his emotions were, they were intensifying.
“Okay. “ Blon looked up at Joseph, his face equal parts mockery and amusement. “Get on the ground and kiss my feet.”
Joseph jolted, making Blon's face brighten.
“Yep. On the ground. And I'm keeping my shoes on.”
Joseph squinted in a way that made it seem as though his eyes hurt. He looked at Blon, the first time he'd managed to hold eye contact with him, and then he looked down at Blon's feet.
“Wh-What?” Joseph's voice came out almost as a whisper.
“Kiss my feet.” Blon frowned. “Or are you dumb and deaf?”
Joseph's eyes darted around aimlessly, and then they shifted toward me. He stared for several seconds, expression now stricken with terror and confusion.
“I can hurt you real bad, Joseph.” Blon said softly. Almost sympathetically.
The tone turned my stomach.
“Better do it. He looks serious.” Ant chimed in from behind, amused.
Joseph looked Blon up and down a few times. His eyes glistened and the stiff-browed expression he'd maintained for so long started to give way to a sadder, softer look.
His gaze stayed on the ground, and his hands began trembling.
“Well?” Blon said again. “I don't have all day. Some of us actually have things to do, you know? Lesson five: learn to be a little more considerate.
Ant snorted.
Joseph took a step back and then kneeled down. He paused on his knees for a minute, his eyes still on Blon's feet. His eyes had turned bloodshot and the expression on his face seemed so absent and sorrowful I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd vomited right then.
“Gol!” Ant laughed out loud. “He's gonna do it!”
I turned to face Ant in disgust, but he ignored me. Lucky watched the entire thing with curiosity, like an impartial bystander enjoying a good show. Our eyes met, but he quickly looked away.
When I looked back, Joseph's hands were on the dirt and his back was parallel to the ground, like he was bowing. His head moved toward Blon's shoes. He hesitated for a moment, and then went forward.
Ant burst out laughing, in a grating, obnoxious way. Blon laughed in a more refined way, but it was still mocking and twisted.
Joseph sat up, still on his knees, his eyes aimed at the dirt--the thing he undoubtedly identified with more than anything else in the world. They glistened so intensely I expected tears to run down his cheeks at any moment, but they never went beyond the edge of his eye lids.
Blon, Ant, and Lucky wondered off, the two former in front, laughing and muttering about how he was about to cry, and the third following behind, throwing frequent glances in our direction.
I walked over to Joseph and kneeled down. He kept his eyes on the dirt and remained completely still. I lingered next to him in silence.
I knew upon meeting him that Joseph was not the most popular person at West-End. I knew he was a bit awkward and could sometimes talk too much or too quickly. I knew he liked to brag a lot, and even stretch the truth to make himself look better.
I also knew that his shorts were tattered and dirty, just like the other kids. I knew his parents were gone and he was alone and afraid, just like the other kids. I knew his shoes were too small for his feet, and that he went to bed hungry almost every night, just like all the other kids.
Seeing him almost crumpled up on the ground made me feel as if all the blood had been drained from my body. Like I'd been left a hollow, throbbing husk. Despite all the things these starving kids had in common, the few things that made Joseph different from the rest of them—particularly those ears protruding from his head, the fur growing from his flesh, and the tail protruding from his backside—had been enough to justify his ostracization and subsequent condemnation, for reasons that never seemed clear to me.
A moment after letting all of this wash over me, I was struck with a deep, spine-tingling sense of guilt.
I felt terrified, and not just on Joseph's behalf.
I'd thought Joseph approaching me had been a grand gift from Gaol himself. That this stronger soul, who had endured many harsh years, would take me under his wing and protect me from this strange, foreign world I'd been thrust into, so unlike the one I'd previously inhabited. And in my innocence, I'd been expecting a miracle, I'd been absolutely convinced one would come, because I couldn't conceptualize a world as hapless as the one into which I'd be thrust. I'd wanted a miracle denied the glory of being miraculous, because I'd known it would come--whether it was meant to or not.
And now it seemed almost painfully obvious that if anything, my friendship had been the miracle, that my presence had been a gift to him. There was little Joseph could 'protect' me from. The wisdom he contained, while far greater than my own, was severely limited, severely isolated, and severely twisted.
He could not be my hero. The option was to survive with him, instead of because of him.
I put my hand on Joseph's back and thought back to the amazing things I'd seen him do. Like the time he'd done that back-flip off the tree. When he'd removed his shirt despite how much it terrified him to do. When he told me he'd taught himself to swim, and when he'd literally jumped backwards off a cliff and did a flip in the air.
I bet Blon doesn't have the skill to do a backflip off a tree. And I bet Ant doesn't have that kind of courage. And I doubt either of them could teach themselves anything as crazy as a flip off a cliff into the water in a taska. In 10, or even 100 taska!
And then I thought about how he'd come over to me on the first day. How he'd talked me out of my sorrow like a wizard casting a spell. How he'd taken me to his secret spot to help me get cleaned up, so I could avoid the very fate he was suffering now.
“I'm sorry.” The words came out meekly, more meekly than I wanted them to.
He looked over at me, and then back down at the dirt.
I wanted to tell him everything that was on my mind, but I struggled to find the right words to break the ice. Everything sounded wrong in my head.
I felt a sudden rush of anger.
Why were things like this? How could someone like Joseph be so ignored and hated? He was so special, and so unique, and so sweet. Yet nobody seemed to see it other than me.
They all had dirty clothes, but Joseph's were the only one's with multiple shades of sweat stains.
They all had to deal with loneliness, but who among them could match Joseph's optimism in the face of pure trauma?
They all had little to work with, from clothes to shoes, but Joseph was the only one who worked everyday to change that.
Joseph was the only one who wanted a change, and for some reason, this meant nothing to anybody.
They had no right to talk down to him. To make him bow or to make him cry. Who were they and what had they done to earn this right? How could this be allowed to go on? Why did they hate him so much? Why did they hate me?
It wasn't fair.
It just wasn't fair.
Where were all the adults? Why had Daughtry done nothing to stop this from happening? Did he know...? I'd have to mention it to Joseph later, to see if he'd talked to him about it.
Then there was the greater issue; the first rush of negative emotion I'd ever felt toward the divine. Why? If there was a supreme creator, an omnipotent being of pure mercy and justice, if Gaol truly was great—then why was there so much evil in the world? So much pain? Why were Blon and Ant not smited? Had I not waited long enough for the Justice of Gaol? Was this a test?
No.
This could not be a test. Not from the Supreme Creator. This was too harsh, too heinous, too sinister and sick. In one event, in one place and and in one time maybe this could be a test, but I knew this sort of thing went on in other places around the world. I'd read books with similar, and often more horrific scenarios that took place. I'd always thought it was done for the purpose of entertainment, that is a was a fiction, that it did not apply to me. But now I knew this was something that went on in the world. This was how the world worked.
And if it was not a test--or, for that matter, even if it was—how could Gaol allow something so sickening to go on in his Domain? How could he create it?
This idea scared me. It made me feel as if I'd questioned Gaol, and I'd heard he is never to be questioned. I'd felt as if I'd doubted him, and that, I was sure, was far worse a crime. So those words fell away from me for the time being; but one word remained all the while, it's subtext hidden deep inside, in the form of a small, concealed sting inside my chest, left in a place I wouldn't stumble upon it accidentally, a place I could conceal and carry it for as long as I desired.
That word was why.
