by Day Leitao
“No.” He felt bad because he didn’t want to offend her. “I was just… resting, thinking.”
Cayla squinted. “I think you’re afraid to jump.”
He shrugged. “I can climb down.”
“Do what you want, but don’t ignore me. It’s rude.” She jumped down.
He climbed down after her and found her on another tree, resting against the trunk, looking at the sky. He followed and did the same on a thick branch beside hers. Perhaps climbing was childish, but it felt good to relax among the trees. There was something comforting in the darkness of the night and the stars. For the first time since his mother had died, he smiled.
* * *
Someone shook Darian awake. It was his father.
“Son, wake up. You’ll start your training today.”
Darian’s eyes took a while to adjust to the brightness from the ceiling. “Training?”
“For the army. You’re my son. Your brother will oversee your training.”
Wait. What? “Brother?”
“Didn’t he come see you last night?”
It hit him. So that was why Sian had been so upset. “You mean Sian? He’s my half-brother?”
Keen frowned. “Of course not. He’s your older brother. A year and a half older. Your mother never mentioned him?”
That definitely explained why Sian had been so hurt.
4
Training
A soldier walked Darian to the military academy. He tried to make sense of the new information, new family, new brother, and new life. The academy was on the other side of the river, near Siphoria. He could see the city with its many buildings, busy streets, and cars moving on rails taking people around it. The military academy was by a high tower, housing living quarters and the administration of the army. Darian was given simple blue pants and a shirt, and told to go to a training arena. Other trainees like him sat on long benches surrounding a flat platform. In the center stood Sian and an older man. Darian wished he could apologize to his brother, say something, but he didn’t know how he could do it in front of all these people.
Sian laughed. “Well, well, here’s the mommy’s boy. And late.” He glared at Darian.
“Keen woke me up. You want to complain to him?”
Sian raised his eyebrows. “Daddy’s boy as well?” He laughed. Some trainees also laughed. “Arriving on time is your responsibility.”
Right. Sian was in the mood to humiliate him. Darian just hoped it would make up for learning that his mother had never mentioned his name. Perhaps not quite. Still, Darian didn’t say anything.
Sian addressed everyone. “We have many hand-to-hand combat techniques. But today we’ll focus on wrestling.” He turned to Darian. “Can you wrestle?”
“No.”
Sian smiled. There was something snarky and unsettling about it. “Of course. Be thankful I’m here to teach you. Come to the center.”
Darian did as he was told.
Sian looked him up and down. “What is this? Who gave you those rags?”
Darian shrugged. Indeed his clothes seemed old and used, but he didn’t really care.
Sian laughed. “Oh. I forgot. You’re used to it.”
Darian ignored what his brother said, hoping it would irritate him even more.
Sian said, “Come here and drop me on the floor.”
“I told you I don’t know how to wrestle.”
Sian crossed his arms. “It’ll be easy for you. I won’t use my arms.” He spread his legs apart. “And I won’t move from this spot.”
Darian took a deep breath. It was better to do what Sian wanted. He stood in front of his brother, who stared at him and didn’t move. Darian didn’t want to move either.
“What? Afraid?” Sian asked.
No. Untrained. It was better to try to attack Sian. Darian tried to tackle his brother, but Sian tripped him before he was within reach. Darian fell backwards on the ground.
Sian laughed. “Oh, that’s too bad. No wrestling for you today. You can go to the study room and read. You’ll be back later for weapon training.”
Darian walked away. He was actually relieved. Later, when he returned to learn about fire weapons, his brother was not there.
Darian had difficulty, and some trainees laughed at him, but he didn’t care. In a way, he wanted to learn to fight. If he had known how when he and his mother had been attacked, he could have saved her. But it was too late now.
He returned to the castle exhausted. His father came to see him and asked how the training was going. Darian described it without getting into specifics and said nothing about the incident with Sian. Keen nodded, then left satisfied. Darian had the odd feeling that his father was less interested in him and more interested in his training. This strange man, who claimed to be his father, acted like a superior, not a family member. Maybe things would change. Later, Darian wondered if he would see Cayla again, but she didn’t show up.
On the second day of training, Sian again challenged Darian, and again dropped him to the floor. Darian left and was back for the afternoon.
At night he saw his father but he didn’t see Cayla. He started to think the girl who reminded him of home had been a dream. At least now he knew how to leave the castle, and he could walk outside the walls where his feet could touch the grass and he could feel the beauty of nature and the strength of the universe. Of course, it would be nicer to do this with a friend, even if he had to do it in a secluded garden.
The following days of training continued like the first two. Darian never wanted to fight his brother, but Sian’s teasing was crueler when he refused, and Darian found it better to comply. He never got a chance to see his brother alone and talk to him. Perhaps it was better to let Sian drop him on the floor, make him a little happy, then go to a room where he could stay alone with his thoughts.
At night, Darian’s father continued to check on his progress. Darian talked about weapons and strategy, but avoided saying anything about the wrestling. His father would nod and leave. This was their only contact. The days passed and Darian still saw his father as a stranger.
One night, when Darian was almost asleep, he heard soft knocks on the door, and got up to open it
Cayla was there. “Up for a night adventure? Or too tired?”
He smiled. “Never tired.”
She stared at him. He realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt. She said, “Nice necklaces.”
He shuddered, but then remembered few people in Whyland knew what twin necklaces were and what they did.
“Thanks. Let me get dressed.” He walked in and put on the first shirt he found.
They walked again to the garden encircled by walls. This time they talked. He told her about his village, leaving out details about their beliefs or their plans to resist the king and his army. She told him about life in the castle and how she spent her days studying with her younger sister and a teacher. Darian felt relaxed and at ease.
* * *
Darian arrived late at the training academy. To his surprise, his brother wasn’t waiting for him, but sitting and watching. Darian was happy he’d have a chance to talk to him.
He sat by Sian and said, “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I don’t know why our mother wouldn’t—”
Sian didn’t look at him. “She’s not my mother, little brother.”
“Our father said—”
“If he meant Bianca gave birth to me, he was right. But that doesn’t make her my mother.”
“I’m sorry.”
Sian looked at him and chuckled. “Save your sorry and pity for those who deserve it.”
“Fine. But you could stop insulting me. I don’t see why you’re doing it.”
Sian stared at him, then sighed. “Oh, well, that’s what I get for looking after my little brother. I wasn’t expecting thanks or deep gratitude, mind you. But if I bother you so much, I can stop overlooking your training.”
“What training? I haven’t learned a single thing from you
.”
Sian tilted his head and looked in his eyes. “How would you like to start? Fasting for two days? Not eating until you drop me to the floor? If you want, I could train you just like I was trained. Is that what you want?”
“I’d like to learn how to fight. You could show me something.” Darian thought he could stroke his ego. “You are the best at it, aren’t you?”
Sian shrugged. “So what? I haven’t heard of a single war won in hand-to-hand combat.” He pointed to his head. “You win here.”
Sian got up and left.
Darian was sorry to see his brother go. He turned to watch the training. Everyone stood in a circle while two trainees fought. Darian had never reached this stage in the training. One trainee immobilized the other on the floor and punched him. Now, punching as far as Darian knew, wasn’t part of wrestling. The trainer, instead of stopping it, encouraged it. Blood poured from the nose of the boy being punched.
Darian ran into the middle of the ring. “Stop it! He’s already immobilized!”
Everyone stared at him, including the boys who had been fighting.
The trainer frowned. “You’ll take his place then.”
Darian wanted to protest, say he’d tell his father or brother, but he didn’t want to sound like a scared boy. The truth was, he had never learned any fighting when he lived in his village or since starting the academy, but he had no choice.
“Fine,” he said.
The boy was tall, muscular, and probably weighed twice as much as Darian. They faced each other in the circle. Darian stood still, paid attention, and dodged whenever his opponent approached. He kept dodging, but the boy eventually dropped him to the ground. Darian wasn’t afraid of the punch, wasn’t afraid of losing the fight, of losing a tooth or getting a purple eye. He was afraid of something else.
At that moment, lying on his back, he remembered the day his mother had died, how he’d been dropped to the ground, and how the man above him had lowered a knife. But there was no knife coming towards him. It was a fist. And yet, it reminded Darian of that day. He wanted to scream, to turn back time, to have been stronger.
Sometimes he wished he hadn’t been saved, that the knife had stabbed him, that he had followed his mother to wherever she’d gone. He wondered if enough punches could do the same. But the fist never hit his face. Someone lifted the boy off him.
Sian.
He laughed. “That was a lovely display. Thank you for putting the mamma’s boy in his place.”
“I didn’t finish,” the boy said.
“You’re finished now. You won. We don’t hit a foe on the floor.”
“That’s not what our trainer says.”
Sian glanced at the trainer. “Of course.”
The trainer shook his hands. “Your father’s orders.”
Sian smiled. “It strengthens character, doesn’t it? I should know, as my character is so strong. Not honorable, mind you, but strong.”
He saw the boy with the bleeding nose and told the trainer, “Take him to a doctor.” He had the same effortless command Darian had heard in the prison. The trainer obeyed.
Sian looked at the trainees. “You all. You’ll fight together. Not against each other. We’re brothers. And sisters. There will be girls if you go to piloting and strategy. So let’s respect each other.” He looked at the boy. “You’re suspended.”
“You can’t do that,” the boy said.
“Yes, I can,” Sian replied.
Darian felt bad for the boy. “It’s not his fault. It’s the trainer’s.”
“Blaming your superiors is cowardice. You can make choices,” Sian said.
That was true. And it was true, despite appearances, that his brother had something in him that was honorable and even idealistic.
“My choice,” the boy said, “is to prove that I’m the strongest. We’re not all brothers. I don’t have a daddy or a brother to defend me. I won’t get a command position just because I was lucky to have a father who’s the main general.”
Sian laughed. “Jealous, pal? I can expel you from the army. Would you like that?”
“If you’re fair like you’re pretending to be, you know I shouldn’t be suspended or expelled.”
“Unlucky you. I’m not fair and I have no intention to pretend to be.”
“You aren’t,” the boy replied. “You are a dirty hypocrite who associates with the lowest people in Siphoria.”
Sian smiled smugly. “Got a problem with that?”
“I don’t think a wannabe general should be spending time with dirty men and women.”
In one second, Sian had the boy on the floor, throwing punch after punch. “Who’s dirty? Who’s dirty? Do you want to repeat that?”
The boy spit blood. “No.”
Sian got up and addressed everyone. “Don’t make assumptions about me or who I keep company. Training is dismissed for today.”
Darian tried to reach his brother, but he had walked away too fast. He wondered what had angered him so much. Sian’s feelings seemed to bottle up under a cool façade. He wondered what those feelings were.
* * *
Cayla knocked on his door at night. Darian had forgotten it. He got dressed quickly. As they walked outside, he told her about his brother. She said she’d heard he went to the worst parts of Siphoria, but had no idea what exactly he did there. Darian thought his brother was perhaps helping small criminals like he’d done in the prison, but he didn’t say anything, because he didn’t want her to know he had been arrested.
He also told her about the teasing and wrestling.
“Sian likes to annoy people,” she said, and then smiled. “But we could practice.”
“What?”
“Wrestling. I’ve always wanted to learn it. I read a book and tried to do some moves—”
“But you’re a girl.”
She squinted. “So what?”
“It’s just…” Even Darian wasn’t sure why he’d said that. “You’d do better with a distance fighting technique.”
She nodded. “I train in that as well. But immobilizing people could be useful, no?”
“Maybe.”
“You think I’m weak? It’s not about strength, it’s about technique.”
She was tall, perhaps even a bit taller than him, and strong for a girl. He didn’t want to imply that she was too weak to wrestle him. “And you can show me some technique?”
She walked to a flat place where the grass was soft. “Come here.”
He stood before her. She pulled one of his arms, pushed his opposite shoulder, and put one of her legs behind his, as if to trip him. She smiled. “See?”
“I guess that’s a perfect move against someone who won’t fight back.”
She squinted. “It’s basic. What did you expect? Do you know anything better?”
“We can start with basic.” He walked towards her and tried the same move, but she pulled his hand and dropped him. It was unfair and annoyed him.
She laughed. “I got you.”
He saw her bright eyes and smile and his annoyance disappeared. “Fine. If I’m allowed to defend myself, I’ll defend myself, but don’t complain.”
“We’re learning. I’m not going to complain.”
She used the same move on him again, but he blocked it and didn’t fall. He came up with a different move, based on what he’d seen, and they practiced. He let her drop him a few times and sometimes she dropped him on her own. He also made sure to drop her a few times; otherwise she’d complain he was going easy on her. In a way, it was good practice—being both beginners, they were able to learn the moves slowly.
At the end, they lay down and laughed. Cayla’s hair was a dirty tangle of grass and earth—Darian’s was probably dirty as well—but neither of them cared.
* * *
Darian didn’t see Sian the next day, nor the trainer or boy who had meant to punch him. They didn’t practice any more fighting or wrestling, but learned about weapons and strategy instead.
His father checked on him as usual. Later that night, Darian got ready to practice with Cayla. When she knocked, he opened the door right away.
Cayla laughed. “For once you don’t look like you’re half asleep.”
“Cause I knew you’d come.”
They tiptoed through the hallways to the garden where they practiced a little. When Cayla asked why Darian wanted to fight, he told her about his mother’s death, how he had watched the men kill her, how he hadn’t been able to defend her, and about the guilt he felt because of it.
She listened, then passed her fingers through his hair. Her hands were soft and her eyes kind “What did she ask you to do?”
He looked down. “Run.”
“Would she have liked to see you hurt?”
“No, but—”
“She defended you and saved you. I think that’s what any mother would have done. If there were three against the two of you—”
“Had I been really good—”
“You don’t know that. You don’t know why this happened, but it was her day to die, and your destiny to survive her. Maybe there’s a reason. And you’re here in the castle now, with a new life…”
“I’m not sure I like my life.”
She pulled her hand away from his hair and looked down. “I thought you liked…”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I like to spend time with you. It’s the only thing that keeps me happy. You’re my best friend.”
Cayla looked away, then looked at him. For the first time, she looked vulnerable and sad. “You know, I never met my mother. She was killed in the confrontation against Lylah.” She looked up. “I’m going to kill her, you know? That’s my destiny. To destroy Lylah.”
Darian understood her feelings of anger and desire for revenge, and didn’t tell her that Lylah was probably already dead. He only nodded.
“I don’t want to compare my story to yours, or to ask for pity… but it must be good to have known who your mother was, to have spent time with her.”
Darian closed his eyes. “It was.”
He lay on the grass, Cayla beside him. “You don’t feel like training today, I guess.”