Arcane Dropout 3

by Edmund Hughes

  “I was aiming for your shoulder, orphan,” said Harris. “Deepest apologies.”

  Ari rolled his eyes and wiped a spot of blood from the edge of his scalp. Jarvis was already pulling himself back to his feet.

  “I’d be more offended if I wasn’t so sure that you were telling the truth,” said Ari. “It’s common knowledge that you have the aim of a blind cave rat.”

  He couldn’t shift his attention over to enjoy the reaction of Harris and his easily bruised ego, but he still allowed himself a small smile. Jarvis was circling around him, and it was time to finally get serious. He feinted forward, forcing Jarvis to take a step toward the slippery section of rock, and then unloaded a fast volley of punches.

  How many times had he and Jarvis been pitted against each other before? He’d lost count. Ari had sparred against all of the boys in the cavern, back when they’d all been young enough for the fights to go either way. As he’d gotten older and better at fighting, the shame inherent in losing to an orphan had deterred most of his challengers.

  Jarvis had become a tool for the other boys, in a sense. A surrogate through which they could continue their childish games, despite the fact that most of them would never dare to harass him alone and to his face.

  He let himself draw from his anger as he continued his attack. Jarvis blocked the first few punches but took one of the subsequent ones across his cheek. Ari tried to follow through on the attack, but Jarvis got a hand on his shoulder and thrust his knee upward.

  The blow knocked the wind out of Ari and distracted him for long enough to eliminate any chance of dodging out of the way of the next rock that Harris threw, which clipped the tip of his left ear.

  Jarvis waited until Ari had recovered his equilibrium before pushing forward with his counter. Ari did everything he could to dodge rather than block the barrage of punches Jarvis threw at him, but it wasn’t enough. All of their fights usually ended like this. Jarvis had that option. He could, almost without exception, overwhelm Ari’s speed and mobility with a relentless display of brute strength.

  “Hit him in the face, already!” shouted Harris. “Here! We’ll make it easier for you, Jarv.”

  Ari had taken a few too many steps in the direction of the sparring ring’s edge, and he felt two sets of hands grab his shoulders and pull him against the rope. He gritted his teeth and tried, unsuccessfully, to pull himself loose.

  Jarvis punched him in the stomach twice in quick succession but didn’t aim for the face. Despite how often the two of them were pitted against each other, there was still a grudging respect between them. Unfortunately, that sense of sportsmanship and honor did not extend to the other boys. A few boos came from the crowd, along with a couple more rocks.

  “I win,” said Jarvis.

  Ari rolled his eyes. “And what a victory it was.”

  “Mud and blood,” said Harris. “I’m almost impressed that he still hasn’t learned how to hold his tongue. The Choosing ceremony will happen in a couple of hours, and it’s quite possible that this could be our last chance to show our good friend Aristial how much we value his wit.”

  Harris and another boy still held Ari against the edge of the ring, and he felt two more join in. He tried to struggle free, but they pulled him over the ropes in the time it took him to get a single arm loose. He realized what they were doing an instant before they reached the edge of the plateau.

  “Try not to land on your head,” said Harris. “They say it’s best to curl up into a ball during this sort of thing.”

  Ari gritted his teeth and bit back his reply, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of hearing the frustration in his voice. He covered his head as they tossed him over, falling into an uncoordinated roll down the rough, rocky slope.

  Most of the caverns composing the sprawling, underground community of the Golias Hollow served several functions. As such, only the upper level of the dueling chamber was devoted to actual fights, with the space below reserved for several spacious silk worm enclosures.

  Each of the creatures was about the size of a large dog, completely deaf, but sensitive enough to ambient illumination that the glowmoss that the sparring ring needed could serve the secondary purpose of putting them at ease.

  Ari landed in the middle of a group of them, startling the bunch into letting out surprised, ugly squeals, along with a spray of premature silk. It missed him, instead striking the unlucky person who’d been tending to the creatures full in the face and chest. Ari winced when he turned and saw who it was.

  Kerys Weaver. One of the few people in the entirety of the Golias Hollow who Ari truly cared for. She was a petite girl with beautiful green eyes, straight blonde hair only slightly longer than a boy’s, and a heart melting smile that she always seemed eager to share with the world.

  This time, she was not smiling. She was covered in the runny, sticky substance that silkworms spray out of their mouths as a defense mechanism, and both of her hands were balled into fists.

  Gobs of it clung to her hair, her cheeks, her bottom lip, and even the cleft of her surprisingly full cleavage. Her dress had been soaked to the point of being almost sheer, and he could see the curve of her breasts and the points of her nipples in full relief. If Ari hadn’t been the one responsible, he might have drawn a leisurely comparison to how a girl looks when covered in a different sticky, natural substance, except multiplied by a hundred.

  “She looks good dirty, doesn’t she?” laughed one of the boys, from above.

  “It’s the only chance Aristial will ever get to dirty a woman!” shouted Harris. “Blame the orphan, Kerys, not us!”

  Ari heard the sound of footsteps as the group of boys who’d been harassing him ran off. He pulled himself to his feet and winced as he took a closer look at Kerys. Her grey cloth dress looked as though it had been clean before the messy, unfortunate accident, and in the caverns that was no small feat.

  “Aristial… Stoneblood…” said Kerys, through gritted teeth. Her voice was high pitched and small on most days, and her current overflowing anger made it sound like a furious squeak.

  “Kerys…” said Ari. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t exactly choose to fall down here, just so you know.”

  “Well, now,” said Kerys, rolling her eyes. “That fixes everything, doesn’t it?”

  Ari smiled at her and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Don’t listen to what those bastards were saying,” said Ari. “I’m sure I’ll get the chance to dirty you properly someday. That’s why you’re so mad, right?”

  “Aristial!” shouted Kerys. “You stupid, boorish brute!”

  She hit him on the shoulder. Ari caught her hand and gave it a soft squeeze, glancing around the cavern. Most of the other enclosures were empty, and he didn’t see Mistress Tina, the overseer of the silkworms, around anywhere.

  “Come on,” he said. “I’ll make it up to you.”

  “It’s going to take more than a mug of root-ale to make this up to me, in case that’s what you had in mind,” said Kerys.

  Ari blinked and did his very best to act as though she hadn’t just guessed correctly.

  CHAPTER 2

  Ari pulled Kerys down one of the Hollow’s many winding passageways and through the stone masonry workshop, which was filled with the accidentally rhythmic chorus of more than a dozen hammers and chisels.

  Few of the crafters on duty glanced up from their work, which suited Ari just fine. There were no strangers in their community, and he expected to get an earful from any adult who saw Kerys and correctly guessed that he was the one responsible for her sticky state.

  They continued down another passageway, one that led past several residential nooks, each with a door curtain of oiled cave-goat leather. Kerys slowed her pace as she realized where he was taking her, and Ari had to look over his shoulder and urge her on with a nod.

  “Come on,” he said. “It’ll be fine.”

  “Ari, it’s a washing day, not a bathing day,” said Kerys. “The Hollow Lord
will punish us for sneaking into the hot springs out of turn.”

  “What the Hollow Lord doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” said Ari. “He likes you. I’m sure he’d make an allowance, regardless.”

  He glanced her over again and had to force back a smile as he noticed a strand of premature silk hanging from one of her ears that she’d missed when she’d tried to wipe herself off. Kerys bristled under his attention, responding with a blush and a glare.

  “If you think he’d make an allowance, why don’t we simply ask him first?” asked Kerys.

  “In my experience, it’s better to act first and apologize later,” said Ari.

  Kerys rolled her eyes. “Your experience is that of a malcontent and a troublemaker.”

  Ari shrugged and pulled back the leather curtain that cordoned the hot springs off from the rest of the hallway. He gave Kerys a mocking bow, and after a couple of seconds, she sighed and headed on in.

  As tempted as he was to follow her, she did have a point. Sneaking into the hot springs on a washing day was a small offense, but a relatively selfish one that the community tended to make an unnecessarily big deal out of. It made more sense for him to keep watch, he figured.

  Less than a minute after Kerys had entered, his caution was rewarded. Mistress Chella, the Hollow’s lead wash woman, came into view at the end of the passageway. Ari heard her before he saw her, primarily because of the cart she was pushing, which was heavily stacked with iron pots and clay dishes.

  “Young Aristial,” said Chella, in a voice that sounded as ancient as she looked. “You have a suspicious aura around you. The hot springs are off limits today, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

  Ari scratched his head. “The Hollow Lord caught Jarvis and I rough-housing in the dining hall again. Assigned us both extra chores.”

  “Dormiar condemn you both,” sighed Mistress Chella. “If you have so much extra energy, you should spend it on digging. We could use the help.”

  “You’re right about that, of course, Mistress Chella,” said Ari. “And it’s a fair enough punishment, I must admit, but it’s stupid that Jarvis gets to sweep the main cavern, while I’m stuck on wash duty.”

  “Interesting…” said Mistress Chella. “Well, I suppose with your help, I can finish early today.”

  Ari nodded, thinking furiously.

  “Yeah,” he said. “By the way, Benowan was looking for you earlier. He said he had the morning free, since he finished setting up his part for the Choosing ceremony early. Mentioned taking a walk through the rainbow cavern.”

  “Benowan was here?” asked Mistress Chella. “Asking for me?”

  Ari nodded, feeling a little guilty about this lie in particular. Benowan was one of the oldest men in the Hollow, and he’d put off taking a new wife after his old one had passed away several years earlier. Mistress Chella, a widow herself, had been positioning herself to be the target of Benowan’s affections for as long as he could remember.

  “If I were to ask you to take the lead on washing, would you be able to handle it on your own?” asked Mistress Chella. “I would make it up to you, of course. You can put a few root-ales on my tab the next time you’re in the brewing cavern.”

  “Three root-ales, and we’ll call it a deal,” said Ari.

  Mistress Chella gave him a quick nod and hurried back down the hall. Ari breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t plan on taking advantage of her kindness and actually redeeming her reward, but as he stopped to think about it, Benowan had been wandering about rather aimlessly earlier that morning.

  He pulled the cart of dirty dishes toward the leather curtain, then hesitated. There was a reason why bathing days and washing days were separate, and it was as much to preserve people’s modesty as it was to give the water a break to filter through the sponge rocks. On top of that, he was rather fond of Kerys, and respected her as a person too much to peep at her like a horny adolescent.

  But maybe… just a quick look. He did have to wash the dishes, now that he’d entangled himself in falsehoods.

  He pushed the cart through the curtain and tried not to gawk at what he saw on the other side. Kerys was naked in the water, and though the steam obscured most of the illicit details of her body, she was still a sight to behold, and then some.

  The other boys around Ari’s age often jested about the attractiveness of the girls in the community. Kerys was one of the few that none of them could find fault with. She had what many of them called a “wife body”, buxom and curvy in all the right places. Kerys was small, but her breasts and butt were amply sized in proportion to the rest of her, with that awesome buoyancy that most women were lucky to maintain for just a few peak years at most.

  “Aristial!” shouted Kerys, as she noticed his not so subtle staring. “What in Dormiar’s name do you think you’re doing?”

  “Calm down,” said Ari. “I had to agree to handle Mistress Chella’s wash cart to keep you from being caught.”

  “Keep me from being caught?” asked Kerys. “This was your idea!”

  “One way or another, I’m taking on extra chores for your sake,” said Ari. “Besides, I was only looking at you to make sure you hadn’t fainted in the hot water. Again.”

  Kerys set her hands on her hips, a posture that would have been a lot more interesting if not for the billowing steam.

  “That’s only happened a few times,” she said. “More to the point, do you really expect me to believe that as an excuse?”

  Ari sighed. He was good at lying, but not to her.

  “Okay, I was peeping,” he said, smiling a little.

  Kerys made a high pitched, frustrated noise. Ari brought the cart up to the side section of the hot springs, where he could sit down without having her directly in view.

  “Toss me your dress,” he said. “I’ll wash it first.”

  “Oh,” said Kerys. “Thanks.”

  She tossed her dress over. Ari spread it out across the rocks, dabbing a finger against the sticky substance it was covered with. It felt as much like a man’s seed as it looked like it, and he felt a weird flush of arousal as he considered how thoroughly Kerys had been hosed down.

  “Are you nervous at all, about today?” asked Kerys.

  Ari dunked her dress into the warm water, grabbing one of the sponge stones off the cart to scrub at the fabric.

  “A little,” he said. “But I think everyone is. The Choosing is basically a rite of passage for eighteen-year-olds. It’s not just about what happens if you pull a black stone.”

  He heard the sound of splashing water and only barely resisted the temptation to glance over at her.

  “I couldn’t sleep last night,” said Kerys. “I just kept picturing the ceremony in my head and all of the ways it could end up playing out.”

  “Relax, Kerys,” said Ari. “There was only a single girl born this last year, so there’s only going to be one black stone for you to worry about. And I sincerely doubt you’ll even be one of the ten chosen to pull from the urn in the first place.”

  The Hollow Lord was ultimately the one who made the decision about which newly turned eighteen-year-olds would be participating in the Choosing. Ari fully expected Kerys to be given a free pass, given her unique circumstances and that there were 16 other girls of the same age.

  She was the youngest daughter of the Weaver family and the only one of the family’s girls that had survived her childhood. Kerys had suffered from the same weakening sickness that had taken her sisters, but miraculously, she’d lived through it.

  She was still prone to sickness as an adult, and her frail body both bruised and bled easily. Ari couldn’t imagine the Hollow Lord thinking that she’d be a good candidate to potentially send out to the surface, assuming he had any compassion whatsoever.

  “Only a single girl was born,” said Kerys, “but three boys were. And with ten of you having to pull stones…”

  She trailed off, though Ari knew full well where her line of thinking was taking her. The Hollow Lord tende
d to pick the boys for the Choosing based off their standing and worth to the community.

  Designated troublemakers, more often than not, were the first ones pulling stones in the Choosing each year. The same was true of orphans. The fact that Ari fit neatly into the intersection of both categories made his stomach twist into stubborn knots whenever he let himself consider it.

  “That’s just how the Choosing works,” said Ari. He scrubbed a little harder at her dress. “It’s always been this way, ever since we were kids.”

  “It’s so much scarier now,” whispered Kerys. “To think that anyone of our age could be picked, and we’d lose them forever, over what amounts to a game of chance.”

  Ari nodded slowly. It was the harsh reality created by the limited resources of the Golias Hollow. The legends surrounding the Choosing portrayed it as more of a pilgrimage than a death sentence, which is part of the reason why teenagers had traditionally been the ones sent out, rather than the old and infirm.

  Ari had always thought that it would have made more sense to prioritize sending out the biggest drains on the community’s resources rather than young people in their prime, but the Hollow’s rigid adherence to Dormiar’s revered and dogmatic teachings didn’t leave much room for things like common sense.

  It was possible that the Choosing had once been similar to a pilgrimage, but he’d never seen it in that light during his lifetime. Nobody had ever returned from the surface in all the time that anyone he knew could remember. The records they had of Maiya, the continent that existed outside of their self-contained underground world, spoke of horrible monsters, impossible weather conditions, and a “tainted wind” that no man or woman could survive.

  The most terrifying aspect of the surface, at least to Ari, had always been how taboo it was to talk about it. They didn’t speculate about what might be up there. They didn’t reminisce about loved ones who’d previously pulled the black stone in the Choosing. They spoke of the world outside of Golias Hollow less than they spoke of the prophet Dormiar’s fabled Endfate.