* * *
The next morning Christill was awakened by the familiar feel of Jin's raspy tongue. Wiping the drool off his cheek once more, he stretched out a long yawn and turned to look out of the window. The morning sun was beginning to peek out over the buildings of Hamal, creating a breathtaking view. He then glanced across the room to see Thibalt fast asleep under his woven blanket.
Getting up to have a drink of water, Christill paused and stared out of the window once more. There was something strange about the city today, something odd about seeing the sun out over the horizon. The answer eluded him. He let the thought slip and moved to the water pail. Yet he could not shake the feeling that he was forgetting something important.
He was stirred by Thibalt's shout as Jin slobbered all over his face. "Jin!" Thibalt screamed. "I was having a good dream." Thibalt propped himself up and wiped his face on his sleeve. "The gods only know how I am ever going to manage getting up before sunrise each morning," he added in.
Christill let out a loud gasp, surprising Thibalt, and causing Jin to drop into a defensive stance. Thibalt's words had jolted his memory. "Thibalt, it's past dawn!" he cried.
Thibalt glanced out the window to see the hot sun blanketing the dry cityscape. "No!" he replied.
"Yes!" Christill returned, in haste. "We have to go now!"
They burst through the house, past Kera, who was preparing some salted meat, and out of the door. They ran as fast as their legs could carry them, swerving in and out of alleys and trying to get to the Mul'Pha Square as quickly as possible.
They finally reached the square, their hearts sinking when they found no Miirvkin boys waiting. A few of the Miirvkin moving through the square cast them looks of distaste. They looked around frantically for the other boys but found none. The only one they recognized was Jin, who had playfully followed them out of the house and through half of the city.
"Go ... home ... Jin," Thibalt said, in between breaths. "What are we going to do now?"
Christill looked around, his distress and fear growing, and then fixed his eyes on the large building that the Disciple had appeared from on the previous day. "We can try over there," he suggested, motioning to the structure on the east side of the square.
Thibalt shrugged his shoulders and began to head for the building. Jin, utterly disappointed, walked back home with his ears pointed down in dissatisfaction. They arrived at the doorway and had to reach up high to turn the handle. The door opened into a large corridor with several openings on either side.
They began to walk past the doors, carefully peering in, looking for any sign of the Disciple. The first few doorways they passed held Miirvkin men, sitting in large chairs with stone writing tablets, who scowled at them. They quickly hurried by these. As they neared the end of the corridor, they heard a familiar sound from a door to their left. There was no mistaking the Disciple's voice. They stopped moving and crept up to the wall beside the door. Within a moment the Disciple's voice ceased and the boys were faced with deathly silence.
Thibalt and Christill looked at each other with frightened faces, and then crept slightly closer to the opening. Thibalt shoved Christill in front of himself and motioned for him to look inside the room. Christill shook his head silently, pointing at Thibalt. Thibalt let out a sigh and popped his head into the doorway.
He found the Disciple standing in the entrance, glaring straight down at him with a face full of anger. Thibalt could not move. The Disciple reached out and pulled Thibalt violently into the room.
Christill watched his brother being dragged into the room and was frozen to the spot in fear.
"If you value your life you will come inside," came the Disciple's voice from the doorway.
Christill could not recall a more difficult moment in his life. He swallowed through the lump in his throat and stepped inside.
The Disciple instantly reached out and grabbed him by the neck, now holding both brothers tightly. He pulled them to the front of the room, where the Miirvkin boys were seated on the floor, and presented them to the group.
"Disobedience will never go unpunished in Hamal," the Disciple said, his voice full of contempt. "This is the first lesson that you will learn today."
Thibalt and Christill both struggled to breathe with the Disciple's surprisingly powerful grip around their throats. The Miirvkin boys, obviously pleased with the display, did not wish to further anger the Disciple and struggled to hold in their delight. The Disciple then threw the boys to the floor, where they crashed on top of each other.
"I refused to allow you to be taught amongst our youths. Told the others that you were nothing but vermin that should be stomped underfoot. But Reinar would have it no other way."
Thibalt helped his smaller brother stand up, averting his eyes from everyone else in the room.
"He may have had his way, but know that I will make sure you are put in your place," he continued.
The Disciple then raised his hands into the air and sent forth two globes of yellow energy that latched onto the brothers' chests. The magic surged into their bodies and they screamed wildly in pain. They both fell to the floor, writhing as the Disciple's power sent fire through their veins.
The Miirvkin boys cried out in shock and moved back. Yet the Disciple watched on with enjoyment as Thibalt and Christill suffered. Regretfully, the Disciple dismissed his magic and left the boys to groan on the floor.
"Now where was I?" he asked, as though nothing of note had happened.
The group was still too shocked to reply, staring wide eyed at the Feldonian boys sobbing in front of them.
"I asked you a question," the Disciple continued. "The next time that I fail to hear a response, you will be joining these two."
A stocky boy in the far corner of the room raised his arm high. "You were telling us about the lands across the s-sea," he stuttered.
"Ah yes," the Disciple said. "Miirvk as I told you, before I was interrupted, is as you would know not the only nation on Kovi. Across the Sea of Turmoil lies the accursed Kingdom of Feldom. It is a land starkly different to our own, covered in colourful vegetation and scattered with forests and rivers." He walked over to a large chest at the front of the room and pulled out a tattered map. "South of Feldom lays the Misty Forest, also called Karmena," he continued, pointing at the map. "Nyrune herself protects the forest from intruders and any man with an unjust heart will meet their end inside of it. Take note, the Karmanians themselves are a worthless people, even more villainous than their Feldonian cousins."
As the Disciple carried on, Christill and Thibalt slowly recovered from their ordeal. Although they held no visible scars, both felt as though their insides had been heavily beaten. They managed to move themselves to the back of the group of seated boys and lay down to rest.
To their surprise, despite the immense pain they had endured, their bodies recovered quicker than they had expected. Christill soon began to absently listen to the Disciple's discussion. He found himself drawn to the descriptions of the foreign lands. Each mention of Feldom gained his attention and he began to wonder what his birthplace was like.
Thibalt on the other hand could not bring himself to even look at the Disciple. His mind was filled with the humiliation and torment that the Disciple had caused them. He stubbornly kept his eyes from the Disciple and focused on the time left until the lesson was over.
As the morning passed, the Disciple told them of the four guardian gods and the magic they sometimes granted the four races of men. The Disciple, being the only man in Hamal blessed with the magical powers of Beon, did not hesitate to point out his own importance. Christill shivered as he remembered the pain the Disciple had subjected them to, and wondered what it would be like to return the favour. Yet he knew such hopes were in vain. Beon was a god that opposed the blessing of magic on mortal men. Only one man in each of his peoples cities was ever granted the right to use his powers. And even those were limited to a basic use of his energy, unlike the other t
hree races of men, where magic was more widespread, and whole academies dedicated to the teaching of such blessings. Beon would never allow another Miirvkin to wield his power in Hamal whilst the Disciple yet lived, let alone a boy of Feldonian birth.
The Disciple's lecture turned to the history of the Miirvkin, describing the founding of Hamal and the pilgrimages that led to the other Miirvkin cities. He talked of the raids on Feldom that were once a common thing, yet had fallen away as the Miirvkin had grown more capable in the use of their own land. Christill soon found himself listening to each word, not allowing his disgust of the Disciple to stop him from finding out more about his homeland.
Thibalt continued to refuse to pay attention until the Disciple mentioned the war between Dargon and the other nations. The thought of brave warriors, fighting side by side over massive battlefields sent shivers down his spine and he unwittingly found himself savouring every word, the images remaining in his thoughts for the remainder of the day.
They soon approached midday and the Disciple signalled that the lesson was over. "Tomorrow, you will recite today's lessons in full. Now go and meet Reinar in the square," he commanded.
Thibalt let out a groan. "I should have listened," he whispered to Christill.
"Don't worry," Christill replied. "I will help you."
As the brothers were leaving the room, the Disciple stopped them. "This will be the final warning that you ever receive. The next time you disobey me, I will not be as forgiving as I was today." He pushed them roughly out of the room and slammed the door shut behind them.
"That man is a monster," Christill said, as they followed the other boys into the square.
"I swear by all the gods, that I will pay him back for what he did to us," Thibalt replied, spitefully.
"We cannot do anything foolish."
"I know," Thibalt returned. "Don't tell Reinar what happened."
Before Christill could reply, the brothers were once again confronted by the large boy from the previous morning.
"I knew that you would make fools of yourselves again," the boy said.
"Just leave us alone. What have we ever done to you?" Christill replied.
"You disrespect me by existing, slave. You should be serving me, not learning beside me. It is disgraceful to our forefathers."
"And who is your father, who deems himself wise enough to judge others," Thibalt interjected.
The boy swung his right hand hard, striking Thibalt in the face. "I am Cathan, son of Bearn. How dare you speak so disrespectfully about your lord!" he snarled.
Thibalt lowered his head and Christill stood speechless.
"I should tell the Disciple what you think of my father," Cathan said.
Christill grabbed Thibalt by the shoulders and led him away from Cathan. They did not look back at him as they headed to the centre of the square. To get angry at another boy was one thing, to make enemies with the future ruler of Hamal was another.
Dawn of the Valiant (The Valerious Chronicles: Book One) Page 8