Mathieu (White Flame Trilogy)

by Paula Flumerfelt

  In a quarter hour, he was showered and wearing a grey cashmere sweater that hung off one shoulder and tight, black jeans that fit him well but left enough room to move. His shoes had been substituted with black flat things, definitely woman shoes. Taking them in hand, he marched into the other room and slammed them onto the breakfast table.

  “What’s the big idea?”

  “Huh?” Avian and Narrie both looked up at him like he was crazy.

  Mathieu motioned to his clothes and then the shoes. “These are girls’ clothing! Is this a joke?”

  Avian grinned. “No, it isn’t. You were chosen because you are so feminine, giving you a deceptive edge. Wearing girls’ clothes makes you seem like a very flat-chested girl, which works well.”

  He didn’t get it.

  Narrie rolled her eyes. “Let me explain. You look like a girl naturally. Wearing girls’ clothes enhances that. That means you can go anywhere with her and people will assume you’re a girl. You’ll never be told you can’t follow her somewhere, meaning no one can get the drop on her.”

  “I don’t look like a girl…” His lip stuck out in a small pout.

  Avian cleared her throat. “I think they look lovely on you. Embrace it. You don’t get a choice.”

  Huffing, he dropped into a chair and crossed his arms. He was not wearing the stupid shoes.

  Smirking, Avian tapped the table, flicking her eyes between him and the shoes.

  “I won’t do it!” He said indignantly.

  “We burned your other ones…”

  “What?!” He practically shrieked. “Not. Cool.”

  Narrie wheeled in a cart of food. “Breakfast.” She handed out the plates: egg whites, bacon, and a pancake for Avian, sausages and waffles for him. The waffles were smothered in a local tangy fruit for him. Narrie had a simple bowl of oatmeal with berries.

  The shoe dilemma quickly forgotten, he sniffed at it. “This smells so good.” Reaching for his silverware, he found it conspicuously gone. “Uh…?”

  “Shoes first.” Avian said, dangling his silverware just out of his reach.

  Mathieu’s eyes flicked between the food and the shoes. Damn it. I won’t wear them. But that food…screw it. Huffing, he took the flats and slid them on. Avian handed over the silverware and he dug into the waffle.

  A groan of pleasure at the delicious, melt in your mouth, waffles rose in his throat. It was beyond anything he’d ever tasted. This was the life… The girls giggled at him and his reaction to the food. It amused them how the things they took for granted were so appreciated by him. It didn’t take him long to demolish the food that had been given to him. Drinking down his glass of milk, he sat back, looking at his feet. His feet fit snugly into the narrow shoes, but he wrinkled his nose.

  He could see the strategic benefit of wearing girls’ clothes, but he didn’t have to approve of it. Pouting, he crossed his arms over his chest.

  Avian yawned and got up. “Let’s go, Mathieu. Time for class.” She grinned sarcastically.

  Chapter

  Four

  It took significantly less time than he would have liked for them to get to Avian’s first class. It wasn’t that he didn’t think her schooling was important, he thought world leaders should be well educated; but he had never been to class or school and the thought of being confined to a room listening to things he didn’t understand didn’t appeal to him. When they got there, the Professor was waiting for them as they entered the library that doubled as a study room. He was a tall, overly thin man with skin the color of cool mocha.

  “Avian.” His voice was slow and deep, with a twinge of a foreign accent. “Let us begin. Language Origins.”

  “Do we have to start with that? It’s so boring.” She looked at him with big eyes, silently pleading as she dropped into her seat. The same two desk from before were there, one presumably for him.

  Smiling slightly, the Professor shook his head. “One hour and fifteen minutes of Language Origins is what we shall start with, as we do every morning. Now, tell me what we learned yesterday.” The man instructed.

  Settling more comfortably into her seat beside Mathieu, feet on his desk, she looked lazily at her teacher. “There are five countries on this continent, all of whom speak a different language. However, each language has a common origin. It can be seen throughout the pronunciation, the rhythm of speech and the use of non-enunciated letters.”

  The Professor nodded, seeming to have know she would be able to summarize the prior lesion without difficulty. “Correct. Today we are going to learn about the ways that languages evolve from a basic, common language into distinct dialects…”

  ~*~

  It was nauseating how much Professor knew and how long he could talk between breathes. He must have covered five full lessons in the hour and fifteen minutes designated for Language Origins. He didn’t relent and he didn’t hesitate; fact after fact was given and neither he nor Avian seemed to be about to stop.

  Everything that the Professor asked or said, she had a quip to accompany it and she never touched the paper that was at her disposal. She had a fast mind and devoured the information, demanding more while maintaining a steady whine about how much she didn’t wish to learn.

  Avian and her teacher bantered between verbal sparring sessions and the atmosphere in the room lightened to a comfortable companionship. Mathieu looked absently at the books on the wall, not interested in the slightest about how languages evolved or anything of the sort. Avian drifted towards him over time, and was eventually leaning against him as she took an oral quiz, more often than not predicting the question and answering it.

  “I hate this…” She whispered lowly to him, feet dangling off of his

  Smiling, he shifted so her weight was resting most comfortably against his side. “What comes after this?” He murmured back.

  Avian sat up with a stretch. “Political Theory.”

  “…Er.”

  “We talk about how Unith and Korinth have grown as countries. ‘Know thy enemy’ and all that crap…” She yawned. The Professor was making notes in a thin ledger while they talked, his pen moving swiftly.

  Mathieu bobbed his head in understanding and glazed back out, thinking back onto the dream he’d had last night. It still bothered him. The realness of it startled him and if he hadn’t woken up still beside Avian with a pain in his knee where it had pressed into the chair while he was sleeping, he’d have genuinely believed that he had been somewhere else. Dreams can seem real like that, right? He asked himself, chewing the inside of his cheek.

  “So,” The Professor said, “today, we are learning about Korinth. What should we focus on?”

  Avian considered the ceiling for a moment, humming to herself, “Let’s learn about their main government structure, shall we?”

  “Very well.” The Professor leaned against the window sill. “Tell me what you know so I can continue from there.” He said, arms folded and eyes closed. The veins under his eyelids stood out predominantly.

  “They’re lead by a woman named Elise, that I know for sure. I’ve even met her.” She stretched and popped her neck. “She has someone like my ‘Kin’ beside her at all times, a woman named Mina, and I know that they aren’t ruled by a throne like we are.”

  The Professor smiled at her. “It is not quite that simple, but it is a start. Korinth is divided into four districts: Western, Eastern, Central and Southern. Each district has its own ruler that makes the decisions for their territory; however, Elise maintains the right to overturn the decisions of the other if she has a suitable reason and can get the two remaining leaders to agree. It must be a three-to-one majority to overturn a law.

  “Now, each district has a different ruler, landscape, and type of people. Something that must be kept in mind is that Korinth is not actually a country, or a principality. It is a city. The whole place is walled in and because it is so large, it is divided for the benefit of all.

  “In the Southern District, Elise rules over the
main collection of people. They call it the capital, but it really is not because a capital is a city unto itself. Elise tends to hold many congregations to hear what the people think and what they feel are true issues. She is a good ruler. Most leaders would do well to follow her example.”

  “Elise is always so polite.” Avian added, nodding to what he said.

  The Professor smiled. “Now, the Central District is run by a man named Nathan. I have never met him, but from what I have heard, he is a militant leader. He is fair to his people and allows them audience if they have need for his help. However, he requires that all males go through some level of military training to ensure combat readiness and that his people are never unprotected.”

  Mathieu wrinkled his nose. “What a dictator…”

  “To an extent, but he is not vicious like most historical dictators are.” The Professor rebutted.

  Avian piped up. “What about the other two districts?”

  “The Eastern District is led by a pair of sisters: Zanika and Zerieve. They are…eccentric to say the least, and they are in charge of a primarily agricultural area. Most of the food that supplies Korinth comes from the Eastern District. On top of that, many of the basic units for tradable products are grown or created within their district so that they can be shipped overseas and traded with the surrounding countries, including Unith.

  “The last district, the Western District, is perhaps the area with the least amount known about it. We know that it is primarily made of ice and mountains, but little else is known.”

  “Hm…” Avian looked at the ceiling for a moment, thinking everything over. “Okay. Tell me about the relationship we have with Korinth as a whole.” She said lazily. It seemed that for everything she learned that interested her, she had to learn something else that was boring.

  “Inquisitive today, are you not?” The Professor smiled. “We technically only have a political relationship with Elise and the Southern District. Unith, in its…” his voice took an annoyed tone that Mathieu hadn’t heard before, “infinite wisdom, believes that Korinth should be viewed as a whole instead of as parts that make up a whole. It would be like a foreign country thinking that Korinth and Unith are still one, so only negotiating with Unith, instead of with each individually.”

  “That’s stupidity at its highest level.” Avian dropped her feet to the floor, rolling her eyes. “When I’m in charge, I’ll treat Korinth with the same respect that we wish to be treated with and open conversations with each of the districts.” She said in a tone that clearly implied she thought that was what should be being done now.

  “That is a worthwhile goal for a future ruler.” The Professor looked at the clock on a bookcase. “Literature time. Pick your poison.”

  Avian hopped up immediately and whipped a book with a worn cover off the shelf and curled up in an armchair. The book fell open and she scanned the page. “Mathieu! Want to hear my favorite story from when I was a little kid?”

  “Later. You need to study.”

  “But…” Avian give him a big pout, which he managed to ignore it.

  “Study. You can read to me later.” Mathieu said, folding his arms over his chest.

  “Promise?”

  He nodded and patted her head, pulling a book off the shelf as well.

  ~*~

  Exactly one hour and fifteen minutes later, Avian set her book down and stretched. She had the air of one who just completed an enjoyable task. Unfortunately, Mathieu hadn’t picked such an interesting book. Instead, he had read for over an hour about the various ways in which the local shrubbery survived. It was the most painful hour of his life.

  “Woo, time for fencing!” Avian hopped up and grinned victoriously, tilting her head to the side. “Ready?” Her hands were on her hips and she was grinning, clearly ready to move on to the next part of her day already.

  Nodding, he stood, as well. “Sure. Where is it at?” He queried.

  She threw open the door and peeked around the door to make sure that no one was watching. It seemed that Avian was rather paranoid about who was around her at all times. Having decided that things were safe, she jumped into the hall. “To the grounds!” She called before taking Mathieu by the hand and dragging him down the hall.

  Mathieu was quickly learning that with Avian, it was her way. No excuses. It would have been enough to label her as rude or obnoxious, however, she had a natural magnetism that made people feel as if they had known her all their life and therefore it was somehow acceptable that they were being bossed around. Which was exactly what she did, boss people around. He wondered if it was a princess thing.

  Dragging him down stairs and other halls towards the sweeping side lawn, Avian talked non-stop about something or other. Some sort of party seemed to be topic of choice. There was a childish enthusiasm mixed in with a healthy dose of sincerity in her voice. She dragged him out of the palace and onto an area where the grass was cut shorter than the rest in a long rectangle. The long, thin area was lined with racks holding fencing foils and safety gear. A broad, dark haired man was waiting for them. He looked vaguely like a bear coming out of hibernation.

  “You’re late.” His voice was a deep grumble from within his chest, projecting loudly.

  Avian blinked innocently up at him, facing the monstrosity of a man before him like he was a kitten. “Blame the new kid. He slowed me up.” She spoke as she went to get her whites and started to pull them on. Once she was dressed, her hair was swept into a pony tail.

  “No excuses. Form.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She pulled on her face guard and took up her foil. Moving to face her instructor, she whipped the foil through the air with a whistle. “Let’s do this.” Avian yawned.

  “En Garde!“ For a few minutes the pair jabbed and parried, avoiding each other in a comfortable fashion. To Mathieu’s inexperienced eyes, they looked like a lion and a gazelle, dancing and avoiding each other in an almost deadly game.

  Soon, the pair started to become more serious. There were touches happening left and right as Avian and her teacher spun and thrust the foils like real swords. The gentle spar was quickly digressing into something like a fistfight with swords. The hilt of the instructor’s foil slammed up into Avian’s stomach. In retaliation, she threw a fist into his sternum, knocking him back.

  Watching with good humor, Mathieu sat off to the side. It was entertaining to watch them ‘spar’ and try to kill each other while maintaining the sense of decorum that was known for existing within fencing. Oddly, he wondered if the man was holding back, or if she was really superior to him in ability.

  He decided that the man was holding back because whenever the woman’s hits became sloppy, he’d return the hit, showing her how to do it properly. And the hit generally was much more powerful that Avian’s was.

  Mathieu found Avian to be an enigma. How did she go from talking about negotiations with Korinth, to childish enthusiasm over a book, and ending on regressing to a near fistfight during a fencing lesson? She was a constant source of surprises, and not just for him it seemed.

  “Alright, let’s break.” The instructor dropped her from the hold he had her in and pulled his face guard off. “You’re doing well today. Managing to stay focused.”

  Avian pulled her mask off too, yawning again. “Thanks.” She lay down in the grass and closed her eyes. “Damn, I’m tired.”

  “You say that every day. Now, who are you?” He turned to Mathieu and gave him an appraising look.

  “Mathieu. Why?” The white haired man said, folding his arms over his chest.

  The man sat in a chair next to Mathieu. “Just wondering who was hired to protect her royal pain-in-the-ass.”

  “Well, that’d be me. I don’t fight like you guys do, but the king felt that I’d be able to defend her in a do or die situation…” He picked at the hem of his shirt.

  Nodding, the man picked up his water bottle and took a long swallow. “Ultimately, that’s what matters.”

  “What’s
your name?”

  “Demetri Uliff.”

  The name meant nothing to him, but the way it was said indicated that he was supposed to be impressed. “That’s er…cool?”

  “You have no idea who I am, do you?” Demetri queried.

  “Not the slightest.”

  Avian perked up. “He was a top notch fighter until he had to retire because of an elbow injury. So now he just picks on me. I mean teaches. Yes, teaches.”

  “You get everything you deserve, child. Don’t complain.” Mathieu took this time to look closer at the man. He couldn’t be that old, maybe thirty or thirty-five, and his had the crooked nose of a fighter. His jaw seemed to be permanently set in a look of displeasure, and Demetri’s nostrils flared whenever he exhaled. The skin that covered him was the color of night.