The Dark Path

by James M. Bowers

  The day had been a good one for him from the start. Waking with the sun, he arose and dressed in his tattered beige robe. Looking in the mirror, he brushed his raven colored, shoulder length hair and washed his face. Hearing a knock on his door, he walked swiftly across the room to see who was there. On the other side was Meeka.

  "Morning, Gen. Ready to go?" Meeka asked with a large smile, her hand set playfully on her hip.

  Gen tried to keep a straight, solemn face, took one look at Meeka, and lost all control of the expression. Meeka could always make him smile.

  He managed to blurt out a quick "Morning," before she snatched his hand and dragged him down the hall. As he tried to catch his feet up to her speed, he mumbled, "Do we have to hurry?"

  "Yes!" she exclaimed back at him. "We can't be late!"

  He was just as eager as she was to get to the chamber where the ceremony was being held, but his body was protesting for putting it through this much exertion without having eaten first. With an abruptness that startled them both, they arrived at their destination.

  "This is it," Meeka stated, as her demeanor grew somber. She glanced over at Gen, her green eyes glistening. "Are we ready?"

  "Let's go," said Gen. The stern look had returned to his face.

  They entered the chamber, hands still clasped together. This was a big day for both of them. They had achieved their new rank at almost the same time, so the masters had decided to hold a rare, double ceremony.

  The two walked down the main aisle toward the circular, elevated stage in the center. The Schola's Headmaster stood calmly waiting on the stage. Gen and Meeka bowed low before him and rose at his command. Their teacher smiled at them and then turned away to address all those present.

  "These two students have studied long and hard this past year to achieve one goal, the Gray Robe; now all their work pays off." He turned to the two standing before him."Take off those tattered robes and assume your proper place."

  They promptly removed their robes, not embarrassed by their nakedness, although it took all Gen's self control to keep from looking at Meeka. The teacher presented each student with their new robes, and they dressed hurriedly. Gen's eyes drifted around the room at the faces of the crowd. Thomas wore a grin that was almost ear-to-ear. He nodded and winked. Next, his eyes met Aaron's. Aaron wore a look of pure hatred. He spit on the ground and pushed through the crowd toward the exit. Gen looked down sadly and sighed. Aaron had hated him since he and Meeka fell in love. Jealousy must be a powerful emotion. He looked at Meeka and forgot about Aaron. She looked beautiful as ever in the new robe, her reddish, auburn hair shown in the sunlight streaming through the temple windows. Her green eyes flashed with excitement and her cheeks were blushed from the crowd’s applause.

  The memory left him and he sank slowly down to the ground and into a deep sleep.

  When he awoke the next morning, he was surprised to find Meeka asleep in his arms. He didn't stir, didn't want to wake her. This was not the first time he had found her here with him upon wakening, but it was the first time she had let him hold her. Looking down into her hair, he realized that he felt very good with her in his arms. Closing his eyes, he was almost asleep again when he felt her stir and wake up.

  "Good morning," she said softly.

  "Yes, it is," he replied, with a whisper at her ear.

  She turned to face him. "I had a strange dream that you were in trouble," she explained as she gently touched his face, running her fingertips over his cheek. "It was so real... I had to find you so that I knew you were safe."

  "I see you found me."

  "I'm glad I did," she replied contently as she settled back against him.

  They were both silent for a time enjoying each other’s warmth and closeness.

  "We'll be late for class," Meeka said suddenly, realizing that it was mid-morning. "We should go."

  "Yes, we should," replied Gen. Gently, he took his arms from around her waist and sat up. Meeka sat up and stood, stretching. Gen followed her example. The sun was just starting to peek over the tops of the tall trees surrounding the grove. He reached for her hand and they walked out of the woods and onto the trail, hidden from all eyes save his and hers by a basic illusion.

  "Tell me more about this dream," Gen asked, interested, as they walked.

  "I'd rather not," she replied hastily. "Besides, it's fading now," although the fear in her voice suggested otherwise.

  Gen knew not to push the matter. She would tell him when she was ready. He looked over at Meeka and noticed how dirty and disheveled she looked. The pine needles in her hair somehow suited her though. Her deep green eyes flashed in the captured early light and he smiled.

  "What are you smiling about?"

  "You are so lovely with all those needles in your hair." She blushed at his words and he smiled again.

  "We better clean up a bit before we go to class or the master will take the brush to us," Meeka said jokingly. The two walked on in silence till they reached the walls surrounding the Schola. They entered the main gate and walked toward the bath house.

  "Come on, I'll draw the water and you get some towels."

  "Yes, Milady. Is that all Milady?" Gen asked trying to raise her spirits.

  "Why yes, good Sir. That should do for now," she answered, a sly smile appearing on her lips. "Now scoot, before I think of something else for you to do."

  Gen left the main room of the bathhouse in search of towels while Meeka started pumping the water into the tub and singing the spell to heat the water enough to bathe in.

  Gen returned to find a naked Meeka lying in the large, tile-lined tub, steam raising lazily from its surface.

  She looked up at him, casually pinning up her hair and displaying her comely figure. "Come on then, Gen. Stop staring and get in," she ordered, and with another sly grin she added "And close your mouth."

  Gen was stunned. Who was this newer, bolder Meeka? He didn't ponder this long. The sight of her young firm body was just about too much for him to handle. Taking off his robe, he stepped into the hot water, ever aware of Meeka's eyes following his every move. Meeka stared at Gen's nude form. He looked so frail with his robes on, but now that she could look at him, she saw that he was nothing but muscle. Though he was very wiry, all his muscles were dense and he reminded her once again of a cat with his movements. She smiled a bit. Where did he come from? She knew that his past hurt him to talk about and had not pried into it much. She knew he would tell her when he was ready. As he settled himself into the hot water, Meeka moved into his arms.

  "Tell me that you'll never leave me," Meeka said, the fear unexpectedly returning to her voice.

  "I'll never leave you," Gen said seriously. They had played this before but this time something in his tone told her that he meant it.

  Relaxing, she gave herself entirely into his care. He washed her back and neck and poured water from a pitcher over her hair rinsing all the dirt and needles into the clear water. Then she took the washcloth and returned the favor. She loved him. She knew that now. The dream had told her that much. She couldn't stand the thought of him leaving her. She only hoped that he felt the same.

  "Tell me about your home," Meeka said as she relaxed in the hot water. Gen's face turned somber and he was silent for a long time. She thought maybe he wouldn't respond but eventually he spoke.

  "My father was a merchant. We never really had a home to speak of. Memories of my time with him are filled with ships and the vast ocean, so beautiful and yet so terrifying at the same time." He was silent again and his eyes were distant. "After my father was....after he passed away. I grew up in a small village in the mountain region of Nipangu. Life was hard but I learned a lot. When I turned twelve, I felt that I should go. I left on a ship and arrived here. The rest you know." Gen looked down at the cooling water and sighed. He knew he was being rather vague with Meeka, but if he told her the things that he had done in his childhood, she might leave him. It was best she never know.

  "At lea
st you have seen the world. I don't remember much before coming here. I remember the great forests of my homeland. I remember seeing my father, his face covered in odd symbols drawn in blue paint. When he didn't come back the next day, my mother took my sister and I to live with her sister. I don't remember much after we arrived here. The vision started then. I was six when my aunt and uncle brought me here and all I have left from my father is his last name." Meeka looked down as well but Gen could see the tears running down her cheeks. He moved across the tub and placed his hand on her cheek, ever so gently. He tilted her face up and looked into her eyes. He kissed her tears away and then softly kissed her lips.

  "I love you. I will never leave you," he said as he stared into her deep green eyes. He held her close till long after the water had grown cool.

  VI

  The Challenge

  “So, what were you and Meeka up to this morning?” Thomas jokingly asked his friend after the noon meal.

  “Whatever are you talking about?” Gen asked with a smile.

  “Don’t jest with me. I’ve been friends with you long enough to know that when you two aren’t at class, you’re up to something."

  Thomas and Gen had been friends four years. Thomas was a bit taller than Gen with tight, curly black hair and brown eyes. His hands were rough and calloused from the work he used to do before he came to the Schola. His father was a cobbler and he had worked in his father's shop. When he turned ten, his father told him he wanted a better life for him and paid for his education at the Schola. It was very hard for Thomas to leave him, but he didn't want to disappoint his father so he left without complaint. Gen's past was a mystery to him even though they were best friends. He knew that his father had been a merchant and he had spent most of his life in Nipangu. No matter how much he asked though, he could get very little information out of Gen about his time there. It was a sore spot with him and he soon learned not to ask.

  "So, what were you doing?

  "We were talking and lost track of time.”

  “Come on. You’re the most punctual person I know. You weren’t sneaking around in the master’s library again were you?”

  “No. We haven’t done that since....since then.” Gen’s expression grew somber at the memory.

  “Then what were you doing?”

  “Just what I told you.”

  Seeing that it was futile to try to pry the information out of him, Thomas let the matter drop.

  “You missed a great show today. We were working on that flame acceleration spell when Gabriel lost control of the spell and nearly burnt his hair off. It was hilarious!” Thomas thought he saw Gen flinch a bit at that. It puzzled him. Why did Gen hate fire spells so much? He rarely ever saw Gen even light candles with magic. He even carried a tinderbox. Thomas shook his head. Maybe he would ask him sometime, if he could ever get him to answer a question straight.

  Thomas told Gen about all he had missed while Gen pretended he was listening. His thoughts, though, were back to Meeka. Remembering her soft, pale skin under his calloused hands and her soft touch on his back aroused so much passion inside him that he thought he would burst.

  “Hello? Gen? Hey wake up,” Thomas had noticed that Gen was staring off into space.

  “You know what? I think I really love her,” Gen said to no one in particular although the only one that heard him was Thomas.

  Thomas looked into his friend’s eyes and saw a light of seriousness that seldom showed itself these days. Though, when it did, it usually meant he was telling the truth.

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  “Anything I can,” stated Gen still halfway between here and then.

  “She’s a good one, Gen. You better get a good grip and hold on tight. I can’t think of anyone better for you than Meeka. You two are a perfect match.”

  “Do you really think so?” Gen looked up at Thomas. His eyes were questioning. He looked vulnerable. Thomas felt uncomfortable. He had never seen Gen be vulnerable. He was confused for a moment until he decided that it was time for him to be strong for his friend.

  “If I didn’t think so, I wouldn’t have said it. You two will be married and have half a dozen lil trouble makers running around!” Thomas had to laugh at that mental image. His laughter was infectious and soon Gen joined him.

  “Will you be at class tomorrow?” Thomas asked, changing the subject from this path. “I had to practice sword play today with Nat. My arms are still sore.”

  “I’ll try to make it, if only to save you from getting your head chopped off. How many times must I tell you to keep the blade angled so his blows glance off instead of breaking your wrist,” Gen scolded Thomas for the thousandth time about his sword play.

  “Will you practice with me now? Until the next class I mean.”

  If there was one good thing about Thomas, it was that he never gave up.

  “Well, I guess I could use the exercise. Go ahead to the arena, and I’ll meet you there,” Gen said to his friend, who smiled and ran off nearly knocking over some novices in the process.

  Gen turned and walked toward his room. A big hand blocked his way.

  “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Aaron asked as he pushed Gen backward. Gen slid backwards with the shove but instead of hitting the table behind him and falling over as Aaron had planned, Gen deftly placed a hand upon the table top and half pounced half spun himself to a sitting position upon it.

  “I was going to my room until you so rudely interrupted,” Gen replied smoothly, a defensive spell forming in his mind. The masters at the school didn't like violence between the students but they did not stop it when it happened either. It was an odd arrangement, but it kept the Schola from becoming a sort of safe haven and made it more like the real world.

  Aaron had always been a hindrance to him. He was jealous of Gen for two reasons. One, Gen was smarter and had achieved his gray robe a full year before Aaron. Two, Meeka. Aaron liked her, and it infuriated him that she was so attracted to Gen and ignored Aaron’s presence.

  “What for? To hide from me?” Aaron taunted.

  “If you must know, to get my gear. I promised Thomas a little extra practice,” Gen said as he hopped down from the table.

  “You know, I could use some practice myself. You would be a fine partner.” The challenge was clear. Aaron's eyes were filled with pure hatred.

  “Fine, meet me there, the weapon is blades.” If Aaron wanted a duel, he’d get one. It was time he once again put him in his place.

  Entering his room, Gen immediately undressed and started putting on his armor that went beneath his robes. Although it was made of leather, he strengthened it with patches of chain mail. Before leaving, he picked up his bokken, and then, after some thought, picked up his katana too. Slowly drawing the pure black blade loose from its scabbard, he checked it for flaws in the runes engraved along the blade. Staring into the onyx runes, his mind traveled back to the day he made it.

  Firelight from the forge gleamed off of Gen's sweat covered chest. The ringing of the hammer on hot steel carried off deep into the night. His breath labored with the effort of smithing for the past two hours. His muscles felt as if they would burn through his skin, but he would not slow down now. He was almost finished. It had taken him four months of work and he was finally almost finished.

  The master smith looked on with pride. The light of the forge barely lit his ebony skin. His white hair, stained gray from years of smoke and coal dust, was held back in a tight braid.

  Gen covered the blade with the clay coating as the dark elf had shown him. He thrust the blade into the heat of the forge one final time. When it was glowing dimly, he pulled it out and carried it over to the quench tank. He noticed right before he thrust the blade into the water that the color of the sword matched the red of the master smith's eyes. With a hiss, steam rose up from the metal and he listened closely for sounds of imperfections in the blade as it cooled.

  When he withdrew the katana, it was slight
ly curved. Gen took a piece of cloth and wiped it clean. He looked to the master smith then. The dark elf walked over and took the blade from him. He held it into the light and ran his fingers down the length of the blade. Gen prayed to the smithing gods that this blade would pass the master's inspections. The past eleven katanas Gen had forged had not met with the dark elf's high standards. Nodding slightly in approval, he placed the blade down on a workbench. Softly, he began chanting. The blade took on a dim red glow for a few seconds then went black. The dark elf picked it up once more and handed it to Gen.

  "You have done a fine job. Take good care of it and it will take good care of you. Now go see Master Ambern to make the handle and scabbard."

  Gen bowed low before the master smith and walked out quietly. He enjoyed the refreshing night air as he walked over to the archery range to find Master Ambern.

  The arrow made a dull thud as it slid into the center of the glowing target. Another arrow quickly followed, sliding next to the first arrow. Three more followed, all of them filling the center bullseye.

  "That is very good, Meeka," Master Ambern said.

  "Thank you," Meeka replied as she withdrew her arrows from the target.

  Gen stood in the deep shadows and watched as Meeka fired six more arrows. When she walked to withdraw those too, he clapped softly and walked into the light. Master Ambern nodded slightly at Gen as he walked forward.

  "Oh Gen!" Meeka exclaimed. "I didn't know you were there." Gen could feel more than see the blush flash across her cheeks.

  "You are getting very good with that long bow. A couple more years and you'll surpass even Master Ambern here," Gen said with a playful smile.