Rogue Beyond the Wall

by Giselle Jeffries Schneider

  What round was that now?

  Ángelo stole a glance at his brother, who was on his sixth row. Then he looked at Nicholas again.

  Sixth row, but the rows get longer.

  The calculations were difficult. One row equaled two passes. Then it was one row, one pass. Now Salbatzaile was completing one and a half to every pass Nicholas made.

  When did it change?

  His lids snapped wide and he stiffened where he stood just as the boy passed him once more.

  Ten!

  He swallowed and gazed across into the dining room, but he only saw darkness. He knew no one was in there, though.

  Nicholas passed him again and his eyes darted back, taking in those very human ears that peeked out from under the now drenched locks of blond hair. Maybe he still can be something other than just human. Salbatzaile did say his aura was streaked with gold, like his strange eyes. Like his magic.

  Then the boy stopped, just beyond the small rock. and the air filled with panting.

  “All doehne?” Salbatzaile halted next.

  “Yeah,” Nicholas breathed, and he tried to straighten but swayed instead as he gripped his side.

  “Walk it off for now,” Salbatzaile instructed, “and go ahead and join Ángelo for meditation. Tomahrrow ye shall run first, den rake, den meditate.”

  “All right,”

  And with that, Nicholas was walking around the sand garden.

  You are a very interesting boy, Nicholas. I will figure you out.

  Meditation (Nicholas)

  Nicholas finished his second walk around the sand garden regretfully, the small rock marking the end line, and stared ahead at the meditation room. He didn’t know what the process behind his next lesson was going to be, not that he figured out the first lesson, and doing it with Ángelo did not seem like something to look forward to.

  He did give me a gift, though. He looked down at his wrist, where the band rested after he had untied his hair. He is trying to be understanding.

  But he fails at it, his inner voice replied.

  Then his feet went up the steps, and he walked straight into a blinding darkness.

  “Your eyes will adjust,” came Ángelo’s voice.

  Gentle hands slipped over Nicholas’ shoulders, so he let the monk guide him across the threshold.

  “Have you done meditation before?” Ángelo continued.

  “I don’t even know what it is.”

  The room began to clear up, the limited lighting from the sun filling it just enough to reveal the cushions. A pattern on the pebbles outside was just visible, too.

  “Pick a spot.”

  Nicholas looked around, but then chose the closest cushion.

  Ángelo claimed the one straight across and nestled himself cross-legged, a smile wide on his cheeks. “Let me begin by first telling you of the yin and yang outside.” It was here he twisted a little and indicated that pattern. “It represents all that life is. How it manages to balance everything. Light and dark, the afterlife and the earth, strong and nurturing, male and female.”

  Nicholas licked his lips, then bit the lower, as he took all that in. He disagreed with it. All of it.

  “Do you understand the symbolism?”

  He nodded. The symbolism he understood. Except then he shook his head.

  “Explain where you got confused then.”

  “Well,” Nicholas gestured. That was a weighted question. But he directed himself to thinking of the lower-class section, the middle-class section, and then the upper-class section. He remembered the royal family last minute. That was the most minor and what he had worked to try and fix. “It is not that I misunderstood something. I understand the symbol completely.” Then he paused, sealing his lips thoughtfully as he watched Ángelo tilt his head ever so slightly. It was hard to say what the monk before him thought of the hierarchy and whatever place he held in it.

  “So what is the problem then?” Ángelo pressed. “If you understand it, why did you shake your head?”

  “Well,” he resumed as he had the first time, gesturing all over again. How to put this lightly. It honestly wasn’t a light subject. He had gotten Prince Jonathan riled up over it before. “You said it balances life. But that doesn’t seem balanced at all. Have you seen the lower-class section compared to all the others? The way street rats and rogues live?”

  Now he did it, and he prepared himself for the yelling.

  Except Ángelo pursed his lips and simply nodded. “I think I know what you are trying to say. How can they be balanced when so many people are struggling?”

  The monk wasn’t getting it at all, but at least he wasn’t upset. “It’s not just that,” he resumed as he looked out at the object of their discussion once more, grateful to finally have someone to talk to and explain how he felt. Is this what meditation is? Talking? “Everyone in this world is born into a specific section, molded into that section, and then expected to live up to their status. When they do what is expected of them, they are praised. When they do what they find is necessary to survive because they are not given the means to survive properly, they are punished.” The punishment was something he had seen far too many times, even in the peaceful Realm of Haven. Most of the time it was minor, but it was still punishment. Everyone just accepts it and moves on for the sake of utopia.

  “I might ask you, then…” Ángelo eyed him, still not upset. It was just that now he had a look to his features that indicated he had caught a fly in his trap. “… why you haven’t done anything to fix the unbalance.”

  Nicholas puffed up his chest. He could explain all he had done for the lower-class section easily. “I…” Only he stopped himself and turned away to glare at the yin and yang. This was going to make him look bad, but he couldn’t tell the truth to anyone before he told his father.

  “Mhm. Situations like that exist for the sole purpose of those with good hearts to do something about. So it is balanced.”

  He inhaled just to exhale and hold his temper down.

  “Now,” Ángelo resumed, “having the yin and yang outside the meditation room is very beneficial. It helps us, particularly you as a beginner, focus. You may not even realize it does that, but it does. So cross your legs like so…”

  Nicholas did, though with some frustration that Ángelo managed to shove away his issues like nothing. He had thought he found a friend who understood at last, but he had been fooled. Stabbed in the back again.

  “Place the backs of your palms on your knees, touching your thumb and middle finger together, and close your eyes.”

  Nicholas mimicked each action exactly and sighed.

  “We are going to work on a basic type of meditation today to get you centered with yourself. All you have to do is breathe in and out for the count of one and repeat.”

  The gypsies and circle time in the clearing flashed into his thoughts. “Wait.” Then his lids opened to find Ángelo already looking at him expectantly. “Is this like circle?”

  The monk cocked his head. “Circle?”

  “Yes, the g…”

  Ángelo’s brows rose, and Nicholas corrected himself.

  “My friends back home did it.” It was obvious the monks knew, but he was still going to lie no matter what.

  Ángelo nodded and leaned in as though he figured something out. “All right. And how does this circle work?”

  Nicholas adjusted himself on the cushion even though he was comfortable enough and thought back to those carefree days. Then he straightened hesitantly as he didn’t know how to explain any of it, or what happened to him. But those first directions he received were clear enough. “You listen to nature.” Yeah, he nodded to himself. That’s right.

  “Just listen to nature?” Ángelo pressed.

  His fingers tingled, and he looked down expecting to see hands holding his. “While holding hands and sending good energy to each other.”

  The monk’s lips pursed again, and then he
gave his temple a scratch. “Well that is an interesting version of it. And your friends do this?”

  Nicholas nodded.

  “And you did it with them?”

  Nicholas nodded again.

  “Well then I better explain to you the different kinds of meditation so you don’t get confused.”

  “So it is a type?” The question made him feel stupid. The monk had just stated he didn’t know circle.

  “Kind of. There are a few.”

  Nicholas fidgeted further as he focused on the next words to be spoken.

  “The one I plan to have you do first is count yourself into calm. Eventually, you will stop counting on your own and just breathe. Which leads to the second type, focusing on your breathing. How it flows in and out of you. A third type is to focus on your energy as it moves through your body. Then there is the type your friends use, which is sitting and doing nothing but listening to nature and letting your thoughts come and go naturally.”

  Nicholas thought those through, wishing to do the sitting and doing nothing. Something told him, however, it would be a long time before that happened.

  “Counting is better for you right now,” Ángelo resumed. “It will help you calm down and focus until you get the hang of it. Then you can move on to a different type that you might like better, which may very well be sitting and doing nothing…”

  Nicholas nodded, swearing mentally to learn as fast as possible.

  “Or not. I suggest giving them all a try before you retaliate.”

  Nicholas nodded again, this time reluctantly. “All right.”

  Ángelo swept a hand over his knee then, as though cleaning a nonexistent speck away. “I understand your frustration. It can be difficult to try new things when you have gotten used to the old ways.”

  And now I must abandon old ways, Nicholas mused, getting back into position and closing his eyes. I must move on with my life.

  “Now breathe in and out as I count,” came Ángelo’s instruction. “Wuuuunnnn.”

  Nicholas inhaled and exhaled to the drawn-out word.

  “Twoooo…”

  A tickle, not quite an itch, drew his attention to the spot between his eyes. Another got his left cheek. “What if I itch?” That very thing got his temple this time and he scratched.

  “Ignore it. Threeee.”

  Nicholas inhaled again, letting it out slowly, and then smiled as a thought crossed his mind. It couldn’t be helped from there, he had to do it. And mostly because he disliked Ángelo. “What if I cramp?”

  Five Minutes (Sanctus)

  Sanctus detoured around the dining room, relishing in the garden scents. The colors all around. The different shapes life made. It was just a little extra moment, and then he was on the stone path of the sand garden.

  It didn’t take long from there to spot Salbatzaile, who was making his rounds around the big rock. And he was almost done, so Sanctus strolled on over, keeping to the path, and stopped right at the point where his wise brother always finished.

  “Well ‘ello dere, Sanctus.”

  “Salbatzaile,” he nodded in a type of informal bow.

  “Nicholas is still in meditation wit’ Ángelo.”

  “I know. Just thought I would see how he has been doing.”

  Salbatzaile drew up, finishing that last row, and stepped onto the path. “Fine. Fine,” he replied. “‘e did well.”

  “That’s good,” Then he looked across at the meditation room. There was about five minutes left, and he was excited to show Nicholas around the grounds. He knew, deep inside, the boy would appreciate the live garden.

  “And den ‘e attacked me wit’ de rake.”

  He snapped back to his wise brother, heart nearly stopping. “What?” He was pretty sure he misheard.

  Salbatzaile chuckled, though. It was a strange thing to hear after being told one of his brothers was attacked by someone he swore they could trust. “It was not’in. ‘e got agitated and decided to take me by surprise for fun. We got it sorted ooeht. ‘e will be runnin’ before lessoehns.”

  “Running?” Now that was unexpected, but it got him to relax. “Did that work?”

  “‘e ran ten and a ‘alf laps arooennd dis sand garden.” And his wise brother gestured around to the space that engulfed them.

  Sanctus took in the distance. Astounded if that was true. “Ten and a half?”

  “Full ooeht run, too. Didn’t slow once.”

  His brows rose.

  “Thank you, Ángelo,” drifted over Nicholas’ voice.

  He looked back across the sand to see the boy appear through the doorway and into the sunlight.

  “We need to teach ‘im abooeht bowin’ tonight,” Salbatzaile redirected then.

  “Was wondering when we should do that?”

  “Hey Sanctus!” Nicholas waved with a big grin across his features, then he stepped off the last step and made his way around.

  Sanctus looked beyond to see Ángelo with his arms crossed and head shaking. Oh, dear.

  Then Nicholas broke into a trot.

  “I wonder what happened,” he asked through his teeth, working not to move his lips.

  “Hmm?”

  Sanctus shifted his eyes. His wise brother was looking up at him. “Ángelo didn’t look pleased.”

  Salbatzaile shrugged. “Ye shall ‘ave to ask.”

  Nicholas slid to a stop at his side and smiled the extra inches up at him. “I am super excited. I really want to see the entire live garden.”

  “I’m glad,” and he slid his hand onto the boy’s back. “Let’s go.” But Ángelo’s expression and head shaking was clear in his peripheral vision.

  Something to Look Into (Nicholas)

  The garden stretched from the dining room to the lodgings and beyond, and it was possible that every plant life imaginable filled the place. It was no wonder Nicholas thought he had stepped into a forest that first day. Everything surrounding him was large and full.

  His eyes scanned over to the right, catching red berries, blue flowers, and leaves that were a strange blue-green. Then he scanned left, seeing purple flowers, and flowers that were a splash of both white and black. He smiled, and he drew back to the right to land on a row of orange things that he wasn’t sure about as they resembled goldfish.

  “Seraphina and Brida would have loved this place,” he spoke at last. It broke the quiet they had fallen into. Then he stepped closer to the orange things and reached out to gently touch the pedals as he had seen Seraphina do many times. And that was when his stepmother bending over one flashed before him.

  “Hey,” Sanctus’ hand appeared on his shoulder and drew him to a stop.

  It didn’t take much to look up at the monk, although dazedly as he was watching Seraphina fade away in his mind. Only when his vision cleared did he finally meet the sympathy in those dark Carimacan eyes. “It’s all right, Sanctus.” He knew that look. Cedric and Jonathan had given it to him enough times it was hard to mistake, and he hated it. He hated when others felt sorry for him. “I’m fine talking about them this way.”

  “You sure?”

  Those eyes fell deep into his own from there and Nicholas swallowed, not entirely sure about that anymore. This was the first time he had spoken about his stepmother in years. His sister, who he had only recently lost. Although the fact they were on his mind was never without a doubt by anyone. “Yes.” And then he continued further into the garden, just randomly walking with the hope Sanctus would direct him if they got turned around. He also wanted to drop the subject. “So, who planted all this? How long did it take?”

  “I did.”

  He stumbled, but Sanctus caught him under the arm, and he shot his attention back to the man at his side.

  “And not very long at all. I spent a lot of my time putting it together.”

  “You did an amazing job,” he answered as he regained his footing, looking around to see what had snagged his boot.
/>   Nothing was in his path.

  “I love it. Truly.”

  “Thank you.”

  And that was when a glimmer just off to the left side caught his attention. It sparked between a line of foliage that seemed to mark the edge of the live garden.

  “Our library is out there,” Sanctus spoke up despite the question never having been posed.

  Nicholas pulled away from the monk and strode over. Then he slipped his way through the plant life, vines and thorns scraping through his kasaya and into his skin until he came out into an open area. There was a glimmering curtain paces away, yet no library.

  Maybe a diversion? He adjusted his sight, seeing a mountain pass beyond the spell. The library is somewhere else? But to protect a library seemed ridiculous either way, and this spell was designed just for that.

  A presence brushed up alongside him.

  “If it is a library,” he finally asked, “what is with this spell?”

  “Well,” Sanctus replied, “Salbatzaile keeps it protected for his own reasons.”

  Nicholas tried squinting to see if there was something he was missing, but still only a mountain pass showed through the magic curtain.

  “He has some books in there that people would kill for. Actually ran into a few attempts at thievery over the years. Now come along, we have a pond to see.”

  Nicholas twisted to find Sanctus motioning away. The monk was expecting him to follow, but he didn’t budge. “Why tell me about it, then, if Salbatzaile wants it hidden?”

  A sigh. Sanctus returned to face him. “Figured you would come across the shield at some point. Most likely when you decided to venture out on your own. It is a mid-level spell. Another surrounds the library itself. Then another rests on the door.”

  That made Nicholas cock his head. He could visualize the three spells laid out, but it made absolutely less sense than his original theory that the mountain pass was a diversion. “Why not just do one full protection shield?”