The Brotherhood: Blood

by Kody Boye

  “We’ll stop to rest before we leave,” Odin said, “right?”

  “We will,” Miko said. “We’ll take shelter in a bar until the boat arrives.”

  Guess that means he’s not going to tell us, Odin thought with a troubled sigh.

  That didn’t matter though—at least they’d arrived in Elna in one piece.

  When they came upon a fishing bar near the end of the dock, they dismounted, led their horses to the stables and pulled their saddlebags off before stepping into the building. Tanned, shirtless men bearing scars on their hands from nets and knives sat at the bar, drinking shots of liquor and eating bowlfuls of fried fish. Most, if not all of the occupants turned to face them immediately upon entering.

  Uh oh, Odin thought.

  “What can I help you with?” the bartender asked, eyeing Miko’s massive, hulking black figure with uneasy eyes.

  “A room,” Miko said.

  The bartender grimaced at the deepness of the Elf’s voice. “Well,” he said, only turning his eyes up when he felt it necessary. “I have one available, but it’s not for free.”

  “Of course.”

  Miko stepped forward, reached into the side pocket on his cloak, and pulled a few pieces of copper from the pouch before setting them on the table, taking extra care to keep them under his palm until they were within the bartender’s reach.

  “Is this enough?”

  “Yes sir,” the man said, palming the pieces until they slid into his pocket. “The last room on the left. There’s only two beds, and I’m sorry to say you won’t likely fit.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “First meal’s free with the purchase of the room. That includes liquor as well. Come back down whenever you’re ready. I won’t forget you.”

  The man smiled at the last little bit. Odin imagined it was more out of unease than actual goodwill.

  “Yes,” Miko nodded. “Thank you.”

  Odin and Nova followed the Elf up the stairs and cast glances at the men staring at them from the bar before they disappeared behind the wooden wall.

  Once down the hall and inside their room, they settled their saddlebags near the wall. Nova stripped off his shirt and cast it near the bed of his choice—near the wall, just under the window. Odin immediately went to his master’s side and helped him out of his cloak.

  “Are you all right?” Odin asked when the Elf’s face came into view. It’d been the first time since the beginning of the journey that he’d seen any part of the creature.

  “Yes. I’m fine.”

  “The cloak didn’t bother your skin?”

  “No.”

  Well, of course, Odin thought, taking the gloves and setting them in the chest at the end of his bed. The sun would’ve bothered him more than the cloak.

  He, and especially Nova, suffered the aftereffects of being in the sun for so long. The skin on both of their arms had chafed, while their cheeks, almost constantly exposed to the elements, looked raw and hollow, as though carved from clay and textured with the very sand they’d had to contend with for the past few days.

  “Thank God we’re finally finished travelling for now,” Nova said, throwing himself on a bed, clawing and sniffing the clean sheets as if he’d never before seen them.

  “We’ll be leaving in a few days,” Miko said, taking a seat on the floor.

  “Yeah, but at least there’s beds on a big boat.”

  Odin shrugged and sat down beside the Elf. Miko reached back and undid the intricate series of loops he’d kept his hair in for the past while, along with the braid that lay strung behind his head. When all the purple fell down his back and onto the floor, Odin couldn’t help but stare. He still hadn’t become accustomed to the amount.

  “We’ll go and eat later,” Miko said. “Let me rest for a bit.”

  “I can wait.” Nova rolled onto his side, propped himself up on one elbow, then pressed his hand against his cheek. “You need a little rest anyway. Out of all of us, you’re the one who’s had the most trouble, going around in that cloak the whole time.”

  “The cloak doesn’t bother me.”

  “I know, but still….” Nova gave a one-armed shrug. Odin brought his knees to his chest.

  “I can wait too,” Odin said, then added, “for the food, I mean.”

  Miko nodded. Nova set both hands on his chest before saying, “I’m gonna get some sleep for now. Wake me up when we go for food.”

  “We will,” Odin said.

  Nova readjusted his position and closed his eyes.

  Standing, Odin stretched his arms out over his head and walked to the window—where, outside, the harbor flourished with activity. Small fishing boats and canoes went in and out of the individual docks bringing with them nets full of fish, while fisherman with broad shoulders and strong backs carried them to their specific locations. Some went to the nearby vending stalls, fresh for sale to those common. Others came across the street, where they disappeared directly into the bar.

  “Sir,” Odin said, looking over his shoulder when Nova began to snore lightly under his breath. “Can I ask you something?

  “You may.”

  Odin returned to the bed. He sat down atop it and set his hands on his knees. “A little while ago, I tried making another image, like I did with the water.” He paused, unsure how to continue. “Did Daughtry tell you about that?”

  “He mentioned something.”

  “Well, a few nights ago, I tried doing the same thing, but with light this time. I made a dog instead of a horse because I wanted to try something new, right? Well… I was only able to keep it going for a little while, and I was just wondering—”

  “Why you couldn’t sustain it longer.” Miko nodded. “You tried this when it was dark, correct?”

  “When we were coming down the hills, actually. It was the night the fog was on the ground.”

  “You were drawing light from places where it wasn’t. The moonlight helped you a little, of course, as the fog itself likely did in reflecting its light, but without a stable source of power it’s difficult to maintain an image for a long period of time. This dog you made out of light—how large was it?”

  “Small enough to be on my hand?”

  “And you held it for how long?”

  “A little while, but not a terribly long time.”

  “If you held it for more than a few moments, it proves your magical strength. Did you get tired when the image started fading?”

  “My head hurt, but it stopped after I got rid of the image.”

  “Did anything else happen? Did you get physically weak or unstable?”

  “No. I got a little buzzed after I did it. I started itching too.”

  “You’ll find that happens sometimes, but it usually only occurs when you pull energy from strange places.” Miko set a hand at the base of Odin’s neck. “I’d advice you to be careful when performing such feats. I’m not saying you shouldn’t experiment—because you should, especially since you’re so young—but you have to consider where you’re drawing the energy from.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. If I would’ve known, I wouldn’t have done it.”

  “I know. I don’t worry about you too much, Odin, because you seem to know your limits. Sometimes, though, it’s not your limits you must consider, but the limits of the things around you.”

  “Sir?”

  “I’ll give you an example.” Miko raised a hand, but did not cast any magic. “Imagine you are trying to draw water out of a forest, but there’s no stream of pond in the immediate area, nor has it rained for a long time. Where would the water come from?”

  “It wouldn’t.”

  “Wrong.”

  Though a bit fazed by the answer, Odin nodded.

  “Can you tell me where it might come from, Odin?”

  “I could try.”

  “Do.”

  “Objects that hold water?” he asked, uncertain, but hoping the answer wasn’t completely wrong.”

  “Correc
t,” Miko smiled, squeezing Odin’s shoulder. “You see, I you were to draw water out of an area where there wasn’t any available source, the magic would draw it out of whatever it could if you didn’t give it a particular target. Say you wanted to draw the element from a tree—the water might come out of the leaves, or it might come out of the bark. However, say you don’t specify where you want the water to come from.”

  “It’d come from anywhere it could,” Odin muttered.

  “Right. Because of that, you might end up hurting something you don’t intend to. Did you know our bodies are made mostly of water?”

  “They are?”

  “Yes. For example: If I wanted to draw water out of nowhere, it would come likely from yourself or Nova. The water wouldn’t come with a simple want, but if you willed it to come with a certain force, you could easily kill a man.”

  “I didn’t know, sir.”

  “Elementary mages do not explain such things because they never take into consideration the survival techniques needed to survive in the field. Most young men with such powers are trained only to attack and nothing but. I’ve seen squires and pages destroy each other with the simple desire to pull water out of a pond. It isn’t a pretty sight, Odin, especially when you know that these young mages are simply being used and trained for their magical ability. What I’m teaching you is something that you will rarely hear out of a magic teacher’s mouth unless a specific question is asked.”

  “It makes you wonder why they even train mages if they don’t teach them properly,” Odin mumbled.

  “Yes. It does.” Miko stood. He walked to the window, where Odin had been standing just moments before, and crossed his arms over his chest. “It doesn’t matter though. Most men die during wars anyway.”

  Odin swallowed a lump in his throat.

  “Although,” the Elf added, turning his head over his shoulder, “that doesn’t mean there’s going to be a war or that you’ll die should there be one.”

  “Can I ask you a question, sir?”

  “You may.”

  “What is your opinion on the country’s state?”

  “You mean in regards to Germa and Ornala’s relationship?” Miko asked, waiting for a nod before he continued. “I think it’s petty. Your king, though ample in his right, is unwilling to divide sections of land in order to sate those of his companions. Germa, meanwhile, is pressuring Ournul to do such things even though they have enough territory left to satisfy their people for hundreds, if not thousands of years. The desert it great, Odin, and it is harsh, but those of Germa know how to maintain themselves within such structures.”

  “I’ve always though they were limited on resources.”

  “Oh, anything but. Sure—it may not rain so often there, but that doesn’t mean they are limited on food or water. Mages can enchant hidden rivers from the ground and turn them into wells. Men and women can farm plants that need not the kind of moisture the ordinary variety need. The king himself is blind and arrogant with greed. You would never see this kind of behavior in a true Elven society.”

  “You’re not—”

  “Referring to Drow? No. They are constantly warring between one another, for one small space of island. No. The true, white-blooded Elves have made it a point to unite in order to keep themselves from separating into such radical parties.”

  “What about the Dwarves?” Odin asked. “Do they fight with one another like humans do?”

  “The Dwarves are humble and keep to themselves. Their philosophy rings true even through such enlightened ears.”

  Odin gave a slight nod. He pushed himself off the bed to stand beside his master. “So,” he said, drawing closer to the Elf. “You’re not going to tell us where we’re going, are you?”

  “Not yet.”

  When Miko turned his head, Odin caught a slight smirk on the Elf’s face.

  The only thing he could think was, Damn.

  When the sun fell to the horizon the ocean turned orange. Beautiful, breathtaking, reflecting the light in hues of red and maroon that made it appear as though a separate entity itself—Odin grimaced, but didn’t bring his hand up to cover his eyes from his place at the window. He hadn’t realized how bright the sun’s reflection off the sea could be.

  “Are you ready?” Miko asked.

  Odin turned just in time to see Miko slide the hood over his face. Nova, just barely rising, pulled his shirt over his head and smoothed out his beard. “I am,” he said.

  “Me too,” Odin added.

  The three of them followed Miko out the door and into the hallway.

  As had happened before, the patrons turned to look at each of them as they descended the stairs.

  “Ah, gentlemen,” the bartender said. “Pleasure seeing you.”

  A few men snickered. Odin ignored them. Nova, on the other hand, muttered something so faint that Odin caught himself saying a quick prayer of respite. There was no need to get into a fight—not now, of all places.”

  “Here here,” the bartender said, gesturing to three open spots on the bar. “Dinner comes with fried fish and liquor.”

  “What kind?” Nova asked, eyes brightened as he settled into his seat.

  “Hard liquor,” the man grinned. “A good mix of seaside ale for the three of you, complete with a bit of rainmelon mixed in.”

  “What’s a rainmelon?” Odin whispered when the bartender turned to prepare the food.

  “It’s a fruit that grows from a vine,” Miko explained, voice lower than normal. “It’s sweet.”

  “Oh.”

  Odin turned to look at Nova. Eyes intent on an amber-pink liquid that stood in a series of large glass tubes no more than a few feet away from the counter, a bit of drool trailed out the side of his lip and into his beard. Odin almost reached up to wipe it aside before the bartender returned.

  “Here you are, son,” the man said, setting a glassful of alcohol in front of Nova. “Enjoy.”

  Nova took a swallow of the stuff. He digested the taste before taking yet another sip.

  “And here you are, sir.” The man set a glass before Odin. “And you, son.”

  Odin’s lip curled up when he saw the drink.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught his master drinking, so he figured he should as well. Upon taking the first sip, he grimaced, face scrunching in disgust. After a moment, however, the bitterness wore off to be replaced by a sweet feeling that he compared to the buzz of magic.

  “Don’t drink too much too fast,” Miko explained. “You don’t want to get drunk.”

  Meanwhile, Nova had just ordered a second.

  You don’t have to worry about me getting drunk, Odin thought, and couldn’t help but chuckle.

  A few moments later, a bartender set a bowl of fish before each of them.

  Just as Odin thought it was all over, the man slid an eye-searing-yellow lemon, bearing a mortal would down the center, onto his bowl. “For flavor,” he said.

  Odin shrugged. He lifted a piece of fish, took a bite and decided he wouldn’t need the lemon after all.

  While he ate, he couldn’t help but take in the way place looked. Though worn by ocean air, sweat, beer, spit and quite possibly even blood, the building had an ornate, rustic look to it that enhanced its charm and even did well enough to bolster its appearance. A few dents lined the far walls—where beer bottles had, most likely, been broken—while on the mantle above them a series of framed fish lay, preserved for all to see

  “You like the place, son?” the bartender asked.

  “Yes sir,” Odin said. “I’m sorry, you never introduced yourself.”

  “Oh, sorry. Most folks around here know me. My name’s Acklan. Yours?”

  “It’s Odin.” Out of respect, he reached over the counter and offered his hand. Acklan seemed taken aback, but shook it nonetheless.

  “What’re you three doing out here?” Acklan asked. “It’s not often I see strangers around here.”

  “I’m a squire, sir. This man here, to
my left, is my master.”

  “Ah. And your friend?”

  “I’m Nova,” the older man said, lifting his hand from his fish and drink. He, too, shook Acklan’s hand before returning to his food.

  “Your master’s not much of a talker, is he?” Acklan smiled, returning his attention to Odin.

  “I… don’t know.” Odin couldn’t help but shrug.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Miko said, turning his head up to meet the man.

  “How come you’re still in that cloak.”

  “I have sensitive skin,” the Elf answered.

  Better than anything I could’ve come up with, Odin thought, sliding a piece of fish into his mouth.

  “Really?” the bartender asked, leaning forward as if to examine the Elf from beneath his shrouded hood. “You know… just between the two of us… I don’t mind if you’re black, so long as you’re not trouble.”

  “He’s not black,” Odin frowned. “Why would you think that?”

  “A lot of those over-the-border types cause trouble when they come through here. It’s no secret that we’re almost at war with those old boys, but that gives us no reason to not serve them, especially if they’re pure-blooded Ornalans. Why, we had a few in here a month or so back that decided to beat a guy up just because he asked what the desert was like.”