by Nisa Ryan
Lucian had taken Niam in and trained him. Gave him a place to call home, food, and a job, two jobs actually. All without even knowing him. Lucian never once questioned him on who he was, where he was from, or about his past. He had simply accepted him.
Julian also had taken Niam’s moodiness and knew when it was okay to approach and when to leave Niam be. Raina had tried to be his friend in the beginning, but at the time, he had only pushed her away, thinking she was to be a selfish and spoilt girl. In his six years with their family he had only honestly noticed Raina this past year. She had grown beautiful, and she didn’t even know it. But it wasn’t just her beauty that struck him. She was strong, determined, and hot-headed. She took risks, and she had been wounded many times but still fought on, an injured shoulder wouldn’t stop her. At the same time, she was also kind, completely selfless, and concerned for the health and wellbeing of everyone around her. She was nothing like what he had thought she was going to be and that was both exhilarating and alluring on such a deep level that one day it struck him that his heart had grown soft towards the girl, he simply wasn’t sure what to do about it. Niam knew he wanted her but that she was obsessed with Julian and held no interest in him.
With a sigh, Niam left Raina alone, his heart hitched in his throat.
♦♦♦
The day was beautiful, and the bazaar was crowded. Of all the markets in the city, the Grand Bazaar was the largest, boasting almost a hundred different shops. Raina often came here to set up a stall with a few carved toys that couldn’t be sold in the shop with the larger display items. Brightly colored awnings and banners announcing the wares of each stall waved merrily in the sunshine, and as Raina set up shop, Julian and Niam wandered off their separate ways. High overhead, the wisteria leaves flashed emerald green and cerulean blue in the gentle breeze.
It was still early, so it wasn’t yet hot enough to make the close quarters of the Grand Bazaar uncomfortable, but soon enough, the place would begin to smell of animals and sweat. For now, Julian enjoyed the smell of fresh loaves of bread, fruits, cooking meat, and other delicacies as they wafted through the air in a way that made his mouth water. But he wasn’t here to enjoy the festive nature of the market.
Pushing through the crowds, he made his way towards one booth in particular and smiled when he found what he was looking for.
“Ah, your back to look again?” the old woman behind the stall looked at him with a face as brown and worn as leather. Her nearly toothless mouth opened in what he assumed was a smile as she shuffled towards him and pointed at a small necklace made of silver with a smooth blue stone in the shape of a tear hanging from it like a pendulum. It was marked at an impossibly high price, which was part of the reason it hadn’t sold, yet he was sure. It was like it was just waiting there for him, teasing him.
“This is the one you have been eyeing, is it not?” she asked.
Julian nodded, “Yes, it’s perfect.”
The woman steepled her fingers together and nodded, “Today is a special sale for you only. I will take off fifty percent of the price.”
Julian titled his head to the side, suddenly suspicious, had it been damaged by another customer? He asked quietly, his voice tinged with suspicion, “Really? Why such a sudden drop in price?”
The old woman smiled and nodded her head in the direction behind him. Julian turned and, where the crowd had parted, he could see Raina showing a young girl how to work a toy train that had gears inside to make it move. The little girl was fascinated by it, and Raina smiled with genuine affection.
“It’s for her, is it not? I’ve seen you walking with her before?” the old woman let the question trail off as Julian shook his head. She nodded in understanding,
“Then consider this my gift to you. Fifty percent. Take it or leave it!” the woman held out her hand to seal the deal, her fingers were covered in rings, and her arms were enclosed in a variety of bracelets that went all the way up to her elbows. Large loops studded with rough-cut gems encircled her neck and hung from her ears.
Julian smiled and nodded at the offer, taking her hand and shaking on it before digging out his coin pouch. He had been saving up for this necklace for months, and now it would be his for far less than he had initially decided to offer. Raina’s birthday would be perfect, and since it coincided with the Flower Festival tonight, the timing was better than perfect. It was the one day of the year that Wisteria, upon the ninth full moon touching its leaves, burst into purple and gold as the blossoms of the great tree opened to spread their pollen. Within a matter of hours, the magnificent blooms would die and fall away until the next season. It was one of the most significant events of the year, and everyone came out to celebrate.
Julian planned to take Raina out to see the fireworks that would be shooting off of the tall towers of the city walls, and he knew a spot they could climb to that would give them a perfect view of both fireworks and blossoms. Once the show was over, he would give the necklace to her and make his pledge. It was a tradition in their country that a man pledges himself to a woman before he could officially court her. They would file the paperwork, and then, if things went smoothly, after a year, they could wed. He knew he couldn’t turn her into a housewife, and he didn’t want to. He also knew she most likely would never actually wear the necklace, but she would treasure it, keep it safe, and that was enough for him.
The old woman set about wrapping the necklace up, but occasionally, her eyes drifted to an alley nearby, and she cast an errant glance to the shadows as she smiled to her self with glee. It was time. Everything was finally falling into place.
♦♦♦
Niam watched from the shadows as Julian’s prize was wrapped up into a tight little bundle with a piece of gold twine before he pocketed it. It was a nice gesture and one he was sure Raina would appreciate. He caught the jewelers eye a few times, but she made no motion, she knew their arrangement and over the years had kept it. She was paid well for her ears and eyes.
Letting out a frustrated puff of air, Niam almost didn’t hear the movement of soft feet behind him.
Almost.
Spinning on his heel, Niam drew his dagger and held it up against the neck of the stranger. Shoving his foe roughly up against the alley wall, the hood that covered the stranger's face fell back to reveal the short dark hair and striking green eyes of Noël, his older brother. Niam pulled the blade away from his brothers’ neck but didn’t return it to its sheath.
“Noël. What are you doing here?” Niam hissed between his teeth. He looked over his shoulder, but they were deep enough in the alley that the shadows kept them hidden, and the cacophony of sound kept their voices silent.
Noël grinned, pulling his hood back up over his head and leaned back against the wall of the dark alley, it was still moist with last nights downpour and smelt like cat piss and vomit, but he didn’t seem to notice. Niam had not seen his brother in six years, and yet now, here was Noël, and he wasn’t supposed to be. He felt the familiar tingle of energy at the back of his neck as his brothers words slid into his mind like a snake, smooth and cold.
{Brother, how are you?} Noël asked, glancing over at the young man Niam had been watching. It was Lucian’s ward, Julian. That would mean the girl would be close by as well.
It had been a long while since Niam had used his psychic abilities to project his thoughts, or at least it had been a while since he had used them for communication, {It could be better,} Niam replied, tersely flipping his knife around and sheathing it. With a sigh he crossed his arms and asked again, projecting the thought more forcefully, {Why are you here, Noël?}
{It’s going on six years Niam, they want results, and they aren’t getting any. You haven’t reported anything new to us in the past year at all. Have you found out anything, or do we need to bring you back home?}
Niam shook his head and frowned, his hand rested on the knife, fingers trembling.
Noël narrowed his eyes until they were green slits in his grim face, {R
eally brother? If you plan to threaten me you should at least be open about it.}
Niam dropped his hand from the knife, curling his fingers into a tight fist as he shook his head. He had no intentions of fighting his brother here. Even after six long years Noël’s first thoughts were to jump right back to fighting. They had agreed to work together, he would see this through. Noël continued, {Have you confirmed her identity?}
Niam swallowed and shook his head, {I can’t be certain but, perhaps. I’ll take care of it, don’t worry.}
Noël grinned and placed his hands on Niams shoulders, squeezing them roughly, he let his thoughts slip from Niams’ and continued, his voice rough,
“Niam, don’t get attached to them. You’ve earned their trust, they have trained you in their ways and treated you as their own, but you are not one of them. You are a descendant of the Tellemer. If that father of hers knew this? He would kill you. You need to finish the job, but we need her alive. You may be uncertain, but I, brother, have never been more certain of anything in my life. I can practically smell it on the bitch. Even from here, I can see the uncanny resemblance,” Noël nodded his head towards the alleyway entrance. From between the crowds, Niam was able to catch glimpses of Raina at their stall. She handed a wrapped parcel to a customer and smiled kindly. It was hard for Niam to believe that beneath the simple clothes and the kind smile was a skilled thief.
Niam narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists as Noël stepped back into the shadows and seemed to disappear amongst the sparse shadows. Niam had to act, and soon. But not tonight, not on Raina’s birthday. He would give her at least this one last night before everything would change forever.
Climbing up onto the roof of nearby building, Niam stood with his back against a chimney. It was just high enough that he could see the forest beyond the walls and he longed to disappear into them and leave his worries behind.
Chapter 5
The day had gone well, I had managed to sell a few items and made some decent coin at the bazaar. It was enough to buy us some bread and vegetables to last us the next few weeks if I was careful about how I spent it.
Julian had helped me take down the stall and wheel it back home while Niam had disappeared for the better part of the day, but that wasn’t unusual for him. Like a cat, he came and went as he pleased.
I was sweeping the shop front, clearing the floor of wood shavings as best as I could with one hand when Niam returned. He seemed distraught, but when wasn’t Niam upset about something? I shrugged the thoughts away and continued to work as he breezed past me but flinched, letting out a small gasp, when he paused beside me and pressed a hand tentatively to my injured shoulder. I was expecting him to give me grief about it, but it was a surprisingly gentle touch. I opened my mouth to protest as he pulled the broom from my hands and let it fall to the floor, “Niam, what the hell?” I asked, turning on him, but his green eyes seemed to send out a silent plea as I stood there, mesmerized by them and not sure how to react. These days he had started become more forward with me, more physical, than he had ever been before. First, the incident on the rooftop during practice and then when he decided to tease me about my birthday, and now this. I had never seen a look like this on his face before, and it made me blush unexpectedly. His eyes seemed to penetrate me, making me feel naked and unsure. Niam was always confident of himself, but right now, he seemed conflicted about something. And he had never touched me before unless he absolutely had to.
My face softened, “Niam, what is it?” I asked quizzically, tilting my head to one side. The sunlight shining through the windows caught in his green eyes, making them glint with sparks of gold. Moments passed, and I could feel my face turning red as he continued to gaze at me. I forced myself to look away when Niam suddenly wrapped his hands around my face and pressed his forehead against mine. I was too shocked to pull away and simply stood there, feeling the warmth of his hands and his breath across my face with nose and lips so close to my own. It felt like flames were rolling across my body as I reached up with my uninjured hand to grab one of his wrists,
“No. Don’t. Just let me stand here a minute...please,” he whispered. I paused, my fingers still wrapped around his hand. I could feel the roughness of the callouses on his palms, and he smelt like fire. Like smoke and cinnamon and clove. The silence yawned between us, but then he finally broke it, “I’m sorry I hurt your shoulder and that I poked fun at you. I hope you can forgive me for everything I have done and everything I might be forced to do.”
My eyes grew wide, What did that mean?, as Niam lowered his head and his lips were but a breath’s space from mine,
“Na wahi Mahadou ar dreight fer drounen na...and happy birthday,” he whispered over my lips before pulling away. His eyes flickered over my face a moment longer as if he was looking for a reaction, or at least a different one than I was giving him before he closed his eyes and let out a sigh. I swallowed as he pulled away, “W-what did that mean? What you said just then? I’ve never heard you say anything like that before.”
He shrugged his shoulders and grinned, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he said.
I had only ever heard Niam use his native tongue six years ago when we first met him and occasionally after that when he swore. At that time, Niam knew very little of the common language and spoke it brokenly, but he picked it up quickly. We didn’t know how old he was for sure. And we weren’t entirely positive what country he was originally from but it was somewhere far away. His brilliant green eyes and naturally tanned skin spoke of that.
And the tattoos.
Niam had swirling black tattoos up and down his back. When I first saw them they fascinated me, and I spent hours drawing them from memory, trying to catch each detail thinking they might hold hidden clues as to who he was and where he had come from. The night that I had discovered his tattoos, I had helped my father treat an injury Niam had received during one of our first missions with him. He was out cold, and we had to dress the deep wound on his side before it became infected, it was then that I had seen the markings.
And the scars. Two long stripes of puckered flesh on either side of Niam’s spine, they crossed from the crease of his shoulder blades to the small of his back. They were deep and old and cut through the tattoos so he must have gotten them after the ink had long been put into his dark skin. But it had been a long enough time for the scars to completely heal. Neither my father nor Julana and I were sure how he’d survived them. I shuddered every time I thought of what might have made scars like that.
I spent months trying to ask about the tattoos and the scars, but Niam was reluctant to tell us anything about himself, and after a while, we just accepted that we might never know.
Niam stepped back and smacked a hand over my head, making me snap out of my thoughts and push away any pleasant feelings I might have been considering. Whatever I had felt between us in that space of breath was thrown out the door with the sawdust just as quickly as it had formed. He threw the broom back at me, and I barely managed to catch it with my right hand. I let out a frustrated growl and furiously took my anger out on the remaining bits of sawdust on the floor.
Walking back towards the stairs, he laughed, saying, “Have fun on your date with Julian tonight.”
“It’s not a date,” I said with a growl. Niam only shrugged and dashed up the stairs before I could come at him with the broom.
♦♦♦
The night is perfect, I thought. A gentle breeze blew through the city, cooling the heat of the day that began to rise in shimmering waves from the paved streets. Banners of all colors and sizes were strung from roof to roof and between alleyways. The massive central Grand Bazaar was crowded with people playing games, buying festival goods, and enjoying food and music alike. Everyone wore smiles on their faces and were dressed in bright-colored clothing. Paper lanterns were lit throughout the city and cast a pale-yellow glow on the underside of the lower branches and leaves of the mighty wisteria tree.
The moon shone full an
d round above our heads as Julian, and I began to scale the city wall, digging our fingers and toes into the cracks and crevices. We had done this so many times before we didn’t even have to think about it. Every year we attended the Flower Festival together. My father used to join us, but for the past two years, he had decided not to go, and today he was especially against joining us, saying he had a lot of work to catch up on and that we should just go and enjoy ourselves. I couldn’t help but note the smile that twinged the edges of his lips as he spoke.
I had decided to dress up for the festival and wore beige trousers that tied around my ankles beneath a long white tunic style stop, a brown woven obi-sash was tied around my waist, and the knots of it hung down my back with pale pink, brown, and golden ribbons. The sleeves of the tunic ended at my elbows and were equally trimmed with matching flowers. I had put my hair up into a braid that was looped into a ponytail on the back of my head, and I held my bangs out of my face with golden colored hair clips.
Julian had dressed up as well for the occasion, but this year he had gone the extra mile. He wore dark brown trousers; a long deep blue shirt was tucked into a matching blue and brown striped sash. His short sword was pushed through the sash since he never went anywhere without it. He had combed his hair so that his bangs fell to one side, and his blue eyes looked bluer for his clothing.
Julian reached the top first and stretched out a hand to help me up. Though it had been an entire week, my shoulder was still very sore, and it took me longer than usual to scale the city rooftops and then climb up the wall. I took his hand gratefully as he pulled me up to sit next to him. Once there, we unpacked our knapsacks and spread out an array of foods to enjoy while we watched the first of the fireworks begin to skyrocket up into the starry night. As beautiful as the colored rockets were, the crowning event would be the blooming of the wisteria tree itself.