by Kody Boye
Next, the figure revealed the same pearl-white skin, albeit on a bare chest which lay divided in two halves of muscle. Seemingly-hewn from the mountains to the east, this muscle, sculpted to the figure’s ten abdominal muscles, continued up the torso until it ended where two equally-impressive pectoral muscles lay—the small, dark nipples atop them revealing the figure’s sex as male.
“I’m nothing to be afraid of,” the mystery man said, undoing the lower half of the cloak to reveal a skirt of pure white with trees sewn into its surface.
“Why did you come up here like this?” Ectris asked.
“His appearance is… not normal,” Jordan said.
Odin caught sight of sharp toenails the same purple color.
“Please, do not be frightened when I reveal my face. I am not here to hurt you.”
With that, the man lifted his hands, undid the clasp of his robe, and let his hood fall back.
To say that the choir had sung the chorus and the stage manager had set upon the stage the most awe-inspiring performance of the last hundred years would have diminished what Odin was seeing. It seemed, for a moment, that his eyes could not comprehend what lay before him, that his mind could not function, and for that it took several long moments for him to comprehend the figure before him.
Is he…
This creature—obviously not in the least bit human, for his facial features shamed even the most handsome man’s—looked upon the two of them with dark purple eyes that seemed to capture within them the essence of the world. Situated beneath a series of impressively-slanted brow bones, his facade eventually descended to beautiful madness by encapsulating his face with high cheekbones and hollow crevices within them. His jaw was strong, while his chin—rounded, almost perfectly, and not in the least bit cleft—completed his face into the awe-inspiring creature that he was. Perhaps his most-striking feature was his hair—purple, just like his eyes and brows, that spilled from the roots of his head, down his chest and back and onto the floor beneath him, the bangs braided and cut to end near the bottom of his face.
To say this creature was anything but beautiful would have destroyed the word of humanity. It was for that reason, in looking upon the creature before him, that Odin found his breath caught in his throat and his lungs desperately pulsing in an attempt to breathe.
“Are you,” Odin started, then found himself unable to finish.
“An Elf?” the creature asked. “In a way, yes.”
“You’re not Elf!” Ectris spat, drawing his knife in one fluid movement. “Stay away from my son, bastard-blooded thing.”
“How did you get past the border with that on you?” Jordan growled, stepping forward and straying his hand to his sword. “Why, I should have you deported and sent to jail for this offense.”
“I assure you,” the creature said, “that I am an Elf, though my father was not.”
“You’re a sick Half-Blood!” Ectris went on. “Inbred, vile, half-breed piece of—”
Jordan, who continued to press forward, stopped when the Elf cleared his throat, a sound comparable to shifting stone upon the side of a mountain.
“My father,” the beautiful creature said, “a Draethel, also known as a Dark Elf or the Scourge, raped a creature of the fairer race. My mother, she was pure Elf, and was an innocent victim in my conception.”
“And you are?”
“I am merely who I am. Nothing more.” The Halfling blinked. Though no discernable emotion lay on his face, Odin thought the thing looked sad, possibly for its mother whom had come under assault by the venomous creatures that he himself was very much a part of. “I am here for the goodwill of your son,” he continued in those latter moments. “Please, put your weapon down.”
Aided by a secondary, yet just as vile look from Jordan, it took only those words for Ectris Karussa to sheath his knife. “If I even think you are going to hurt my son, I’ll kill you.”
“Understandable.” He turned his eyes on Odin. “What is your name?”
“Uh-Odin,” he gasped.
“Odin.” The creature smiled, stepped forward, then fell to a knee. He offered his hand palm-up, unlike the traditional handshake. “My name is perhaps too complicated to explain, but you may call me Miko.”
“Miko,” Odin said, repeating the name under his breath. “Just Miko.”
“Unisto is my shortened family surname, if you must know.”
“All right.”
“I introduce myself only to assure you that I mean no harm. You will find that most enemies prefer their true names are kept secret, even to those they trust the most.”
“Then how do we know you don’t want something?” Ectris asked.
The creature named Miko stood and crossed the room in a few flush movements. Legs swift, arms propelling him forward, he stood before Ectris and stared into his eyes for several long moments, and despite the height difference between the two of them, Ectris made no move to back down. The higher creature—whom, in that instant, could have been considered something of a God among men—stared at Ectris until the man started shaking.
“May I set my hand on your shoulder, Odin’s father?”
“Why?” Ectris growled. “What do you want from me?”
“To assure you that my touch is gentle.”
Ectris turned his head down. In response, Miko set a hand on the man’s shoulder, then drew closer, placing his opposite palm on his lower back.
“From my touch,” the creature said, “do you feel as though I would hurt you, much less an innocent child?”
“No,” Ectris said. “I don’t.”
Miko turned to face Odin. “Would you like to feel my touch, Odin?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“You would only have to touch my hand. If you feel as though I pose any threat, I will leave you be and never return.”
“You don’t… I mean…”
Although he had yet to finish, and while the idea of the creature leaving so voluntarily led Odin to believe that this might have been nothing more than a chance meeting, Miko stepped away from Odin’s father and crouched to kneel at his bedside. He extended his hand, kept his fingers together, then tilted his hand palm-up. It took but a moment afterward for Odin to reach forward and touch the surface of his skin.
“There,” Miko smiled. “How does that feel?”
“Smooth,” Odin said, almost unable to comprehend how there could be so few lines upon the creature’s palms when it seemed that a variety of muscles had to make them up. He continued to press his fingers into the dips and turns of the creature’s hand until he realized his action. Embarrassed, he said, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” the Elf said. “It’s only natural to be curious.” Miko slid his hand out from under Odin’s, then moved it up his arm until it rested on his shoulder. “You’re very sick, aren’t you?”
“I’ve got the Blood Cough.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I’m aware, but it isn’t a pleasant feeling at all.”
“Have you had it, sir?”
“Yes. I have it quite often, actually. It’s the result of my mixed blood—I catch things here and there that most normal, pure-blooded species only have once.”
“My hand,” Odin whispered. “I… the blood… you—”
“Do not worry. I am not vulnerable in my current state.”
Despite the beauty and power that exuded from this creature, he did seem to have a weakness. In a way, it made Odin feel as though the two of them were on equal ground.
“I’m sorry,” Miko said, blinking, as if realizing his stare. “I am not human, so you’ll find I don’t require the things you do.”
“Like what?”
“Blinking, for one. Was that not what you were just frowning about?”
Odin shook his head. “I don’t mean to be rude. It’s just… you’re so different.”
“It’s perfectly fine.” Miko set a hand on Odin’s ch
est. “Lie down. You shouldn’t be sitting up.”
“I’m fine, sir. Really, I—”
“Do as he says, Odin.”
Odin turned his head up to look at Jordan—whom, until that moment, he’d forgotten was in the room. With that said, he settled back onto the mattress and took a deep breath.
“Master Jordan,” the Elf said, rising from his crouched position. “I do not like the conditions he’s in.”
“Neither do I, but as I’ve told you before: the committee believes it would be best for the safety of his peers and those within the castle that he be under surveillance.”
“No one is watching him. Your guards stand outside an iron door, your people walk the streets ignorant, your king sleeps behind a door before which a multitude of armed men stand—what is safety when you allow something glistening to rot under dust? What is your king or his committee accomplishing when they know not what this young man is doing?”
“I—”
“I want him, Master Jordan. I want this young man to be my squire.”
“Sir!” Odin started, attempting to rise, but unable to do so when his father set a hand on his shoulder to hold him in place. “Are you… are you a knight?”
“No,” the Elf said. “I am not.”
“The thing is,” Jordan began, “that given your preferential treatment in regards to your abilities, one may not consider it necessary that the person you train under or serve beneath be royal or even a knight in general. Though it is custom, and preferred, a squire may serve under a nobleman or a figure equaling that status, but in your case, you are a mage and a commoner, and therefore must seek out the best opportunity possible to train your abilities.”
“I have no status except that as a wanderer,” Miko added. “However, given the bylines within your kingdom’s history and the circumstance in which past knights of magical value have been trained, it would be arrogant for you not to serve someone who understands magic.”
“You’re… a mage?” Odin asked.
“All Elves are born mages, my friend.”
“You’d really do that for me?” Odin asked, hoping in his heart, mind and soul that the Elf’s words were not lies. “I’m nothing special.”
“Do you really believe you are not special?” Miko asked.
“I…” Odin paused. “Yes.”
“It pains me to know that a young man in the prime of his life has lost so much of his confidence.”
“Sir?”
“Jordan,” Miko said, turning his attention to the weapons master beside him. “When night falls, I’d like my squire to be escorted to my room and any of his personal belongings delivered there along with my own. I will not, under any circumstance, allow him to remain in this tower, and if need be, I’ll leave the castle if the king’s committee finds this ‘inappropriate’ and find shelter of my own.”
Stooping to gather his guise, Miko retrieved the cloak and the gloves, pulled and secured them onto his body, then slid the hood over his face to hide his true self. “I look forward to speaking with you further,” the Elf said, wrapping his fingers around the entryway’s iron bar. “Thank you for allowing me to meet you. It has been an honor.”
Before the Elf could leave, Odin bowed his head.
Just as the creature walked out of the tower, Odin thought he caught a smile on Miko’s lips.
“Do you approve of him, Father?”
Ectris looked up. From his position near the window—where he’d been standing for the past while gazing at the outside world and its happenings—he content with the situation as a whole, but gave no confirmation on whether or not he cared for the Elf or what he had to offer. Since both Miko and Jordan’s flight, he seemed all the less sure—content, yes, but definitely not sure. “To tell you the truth,” his father said, speaking for the first time in what Odin felt was ages, “I… do. In a strange, twisted sort of way.”
“You promise?”
“I wouldn’t have let him come near you had I thought he was going to hurt you.”
“You drew your knife on him.”
Ectris chose not to reply. Instead, he set a hand on his forehead, sighed, then let it fall to his thigh, where it remained before it was lifted and placed against his breast. “I was afraid of him, son.”
“You’re afraid of a lot of things,” Odin replied, looking down at his hands.
“You’re right. I am.” In but a few swift motions, Ectris crossed the room, took Odin’s face in his hands, then turned it up so they could look each other directly in the eyes. “I was afraid of your magic,” he said, “and to tell you the truth, I still am. You know what helps me get over that fear though?”
“What?”
“Knowing that you’ve had someone help you with it.”
“I could’ve hurt you on accident.”
“Which is why I feel safer around you now, son. There’s… there’s been a part of me that’s been afraid of you ever since I saw you blow up that practice dummy. There were times when you were little when I was afraid to come near you after you got angry or upset because I was convinced that your emotions would backfire and you would hurt or kill one of us.”
“Is that why you left the tent after you hit me, before I ran away?”
“Yes,” Ectris said, guilt washing his face. “That’s exactly why I left.”
“I never wanted to hurt you, sir. I… I just didn’t want my future to go to waste.”
“I wouldn’t have turned you back. You should know that.”
“I started to understand that after I left, but… well… I wasn’t too sure.”
Odin pulled his face away from both his father’s hand and gaze. As always, his eyes strayed to the sheet, where he found his fingers tangled within the fabric’s folds, and tried not to look at the man who’d raised him.
“Look at you,” Ectris said, setting a hand on his arm. “You’ve grown up so much in the past two years.”
“I don’t feel like it.”
“It’s because you’ve been away from people for so long, son. You fail to see what’s happened to you.”
“I’ve been locked in a tower.”
“But you’ve grown up as well. Your muscles have come in—by God, you don’t even look like the scrawny little boy I could barely put a pound on growing up—and you lost the baby fat in your face. You’ve matured into the young man that’s sitting in front of me. You have nothing to worry about, Odin, because I’m damn proud of who you’ve become and what you’re going to become after you leave here on your own.”
“I have your blessing?” Odin asked, turning his head up. “You’ll let me go with him even though he’s not the most normal person in the world?”
“I wouldn’t keep you from your heart’s desire,” Ectris said. “Yes, son—you have my blessing.”
That night, after the dinner bell rang and from all sides of the castle the pages, squires and even the knights came, Jordan entered the tower and beckoned Odin forward. “Are you ready to start your time as a squire?” the weapons master asked.
“Yes sir,” Odin said, haphazardly adjusting his jerkin across his shoulders. “I am.”
“Good. The Elf’s been waiting for you.”
“He has?”
“Oh yes. I’ve been talking to him for a good few hours now, telling him just all you can do and what I think you’re capable of. He’d like to know more about the magic you’ve been practicing.
“Really?”
Jordan nodded. Even a smile, as seldom and rare with this man as it was, crossed his face, brightening his demeanor considerably.
“Go on, son,” Ectris said, patting his shoulder.
“Aren’t you coming?” Odin frowned.
“I’ll leave this meeting up to you.”
“But if I’m staying with him, where will you—”
“I’ll make sure your father has proper accommodations,” Jordan said. “Would you like to stay here for now, Mr. Karussa? I can come back for you, if you’d like.”<
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“I’ll stay here.”
Turning, Odin stepped up to his father, wrapped his arms around his chest, and bowed his head into his shoulder.
“What’s this for?” Ectris asked, setting his hands on Odin’s shoulders.
“Because I love you,” Odin said, moving back to look at his father. “I just wanted you to know that.”
“I know, son.”
Ectris leaned forward, ready to capture Odin in another hug. Before the man could wrap his arms around him, however, Odin pressed a slight kiss to his cheek.
“Thank you,” Ectris whispered, so softly that only Odin could hear.
Odin squeezed his father’s hand one last time before allowing Jordan to open the door.
“Am I going to be all right?” Odin asked after the guards fell into place behind the two of them.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean… about the committee and me getting out of the tower.”
“Oh. That.” Jordan paused in midstride, looked to the setting sun in the distance, then shook his head. “You’ve been released based on the fact that you’ve become an apprentice to a magician.”
“Magician?” Odin laughed. “Do they still use those kinds of words?”
“Have been since the beginning of time, son.”
“What about my sword?”
“You mean the one that’s kept you up here all these years?” the weapons master asked. “It’s been returned to you.”
“There was no issue with that?”
“There’s armed guards everywhere, Odin. It’s not like you’ll get far if you decide to go rampaging through the streets.”
Not that there’s any need to, he thought, all the more content with the knowledge that he was out of the tower and free from his earthly binds.
They continued on throughout the walls before they stepped into the stairwell and began to descend into the main part of the castle. Once there, they walked, guided by torchlight, through a series of halls Odin recognized as the public housing given to those who lived within the castle for brief or even longer periods of time. Jordan continued to lead them through the corridors until they descended another flight of stairs, during which time they broke out near the outer edges of the first floor until they came to the solitary wall that blanketed the southern side of the castle.