Words: 28,000

Sat, 17 Nov 2007 21:53:51 GMT

I've been a bit slack on posting my chapters - whoops! So, here ya go, two chapters in one!

Chapter Seven

“Wake, child!”

There was the rasping sound of my curtains being drawn back. I blinked against the sudden glare of sunlight that streamed through the small window. Moaning, I groped blindly for my thin pillow, wrapping it tightly over my head to shut out the unwanted bright light.

“No time for games, child. Your training begins today.”

Training? I peeped out from beneath the pillow, and caught a flash of dark green eyes which then narrowed at me.

“Dress and follow me,” Kaum said and left the room, leaving me behind, bewildered and confused. I joined him seconds later on the stone walkway that wove around the student dormitories, disheveled, but completely alert.

“Keep your head down, Aya.”

I obeyed quickly. “But—”

“Quiet! We are not in my chambers, but under the view of watchful eyes and listening ears.”

“Oh.” I remembered then that he had once stated it was best that we follow the codes of conduct when outside. Did that mean Kaum didn’t want the other highers questioning his authority, or whether or not he could control a simple student? I supposed it did. And with my father about, it was best I minded the customs anyway.

“This way, child.”

We left the dormitories behind and entered a narrow hall I had never been to before. Kaum quickly led us to a small metal gate. As we drew near, two guards appeared and swung open the heavy wooden doors. As Kaum passed between them, with me trailing a few paces back, the guard bent at the waist, bowing low until we were through, and then they closed the doors behind us.

That had been an odd reaction to receive from guards, even for someone as well known as the Historian. I stared quizzically at the old Opalal now that we were alone, and he smiled. “Come, there is much to show you.”

The gate had led us to outside the Palace walls. For a moment, I was fearful. We had just been attacked yesterday – who was to say if the Humans would try again? However, I calmed myself; I was with the Historian, and I knew he wouldn’t put me in danger.

Walking along the wall, we reached the edge of the ocean where the rocks piled up to the Spherical Palace’s northern side. We turned, walking parallel to the pounding waves, carefully winding our way over the rocks until Kaum stopped in a secluded clearing between two smooth, flat boulders. A light eastern breeze caressed our faces, whistling through tiny cracks and spaces in the rocks, and I remembered the way it had changed direction so easily last night. The skies were cloudy today, and the threat of rain hung overhead in a light mist.

Kaum eased himself onto one of the boulders, and I perched on the other one across from him. I felt my insides grow cold, thinking about how Yuli could have fallen on this very spot, laying hurt on the rocks until help arrived. I had been so foolish to let him leave my side.

“Aya,” Kaum said softly. “There was nothing you could have done to prevent your brother from being injured.”

I looked up at him and realized I had been crying. He handed me his handkerchief, and I accepted it thankfully, drying my tears. “I know,” I said. “And I keep telling myself that over and over.”

“Time heals all wounds,” Kaum consoled. “I noticed your father is staying in the Palace.”

I snorted. “Now there’s a wound time can’t ever heal.”

Kaum shrugged. “Nourith behaves as any higher does – he wants to obey the codes of conduct and raise his own stature.”

“You don’t act like that,” I pointed out.

“Are you so sure?”

I started to answer, then sighed. “I’m not sure of anything anymore.”

Kaum stood. “Let me show you something.” He swept a bony hand over the high stone wall towering above us.

“I don’t see anything.”

“Look closer.” He placed his hand on my shoulder and gently nudged me forward.

Still skeptical, I peered into the shadows to please the Historian. At first, I only saw moss-covered stone, hundreds of years old. Then, my eyes adjusted to the light. To my amazement, the stone wall was covered in unusual symbols. My gaze traveled higher and still there were more of the ancient writing.

“They are runes,” Kaum said behind me. “Though it may seem like scratch marks to you, each mark has a meaning like our own letters. Many of these runes were carved many years ago.”

Runes. The symbols certainly looked old; worn down to almost nothing in some places.

The bottom corner of the inscription caught my eye and I crouched to get a better look. My chest grew tight and, my hand trembling, I bent down and brushed the tips of my fingers along the gashes in the stone I found there. It looked as if someone had just taken a knife and slashed through the letters, making them impossible to decipher. I knew it would take more than that, though, to carve through stone, like a chisel and hammer. Someone had wanted part of this destroyed.

My fingers reached the end of the inscription where the last few marks were jagged and not as smooth as the rest. I drew my hand back suddenly as if I’d been burned.

Still staring at the wall, I said shakily, “Do you know who wrote them?”

“Of course. The first time I saw these beautiful letters, I knew exactly who the maker was.” Walking to the left, he lightly touched a section. “This is the oldest part of the inscription and dates back almost fifty years before the Human war began. Aya, do you know what happened to the Liln city?”

“I heard it was destroyed when the Liln were killed.”

“Not destroyed, not exactly. Lilanya used to exist right here off the shore, a mere half mile from the Palace. It wasn’t located on an island. In reality, it had been built out of the ocean itself, a true water city. The Liln lived in the sections of the city built above the water, and the Harpers, their companions, dwelt among the large pylons below that supported the structures. As Lilanya was only a short boat-ride away, it was not difficult for the writers to wander to the mainland and carve into the side of the Palace.”

“You’re telling me the Liln wrote all of this?”

“The very same. The Liln were quite peaceful, and would rather caper about with their Harper companions than attend any Opalal assemblies. In turn, they were not book-lovers, and had no personal recorded history. Thus, this epigraph is the only thing we have written in the Liln’s own language.”

“Please read it to me, Historian,” I entreated.

Grinning deviously, Kaum saw back on one of the great boulders. “Ah, child. This is where your learning begins.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Why are you here at the Spherical Palace?”

I looked down at my dirty fingers, thinking I should have scrubbed them harder last night. I found no reason not to be honest. “I didn’t want to come here to start with. But Da gave me no choice.”

“I see what you mean. But obviously you were chosen to be tutored in the Palace.”

“Obviously.”

“Let me take another approach.” Kaum sighed, seeming a bit exasperated with me. “What do you wish to accomplish here?”

I thought for a moment. I could tell the Historian about my venture into the dungeon and what the Human Tobias had said, but I wondered if that might put Tobias in more danger than he already was in. And it might get me expelled. Even though I wanted badly to find out the truth about what had really happened those few days before the Liln disappeared, somehow now didn’t seem like the right time to bring the subject up. What if the Liln’s epigraph held the answers to my questions?

“Well,” I said at last. “I believe I would like to learn truth.” Truth about the Human war, I thought, but didn’t add.

Kaum smiled. “There is a lot of truth hidden in this piece of Liln culture. And as you have expressed the need to understand it,” he pulled three small, leather-bound books from inside his cloak, “you may.”

He handed me the books, and I turned them over. They weren’t marked as any particular subject like my chemistry or arithmetic books from my school back home. Never had I seen books other than those I had used for classes, as Da had never seen much use for them.

“The black book is the transcription of what you see behind you with the original runes. The blue one with gold round the edge is the Liln epigraph as translated by me.”

I turned them over, marveling. “And the other?”

“A listing of most of the Liln runes and such,” he said, standing up. “In case you feel the need to recheck my translation. I will leave you alone now, but do not stay long, for it is still not safe. If you have any questions later, you may ask me when we meet tomorrow. Good times, Aya.”

I barely heard his words.. Running my thumb over the gold border of the Historian’s translation, I slowly opened the thick cover. The book’s pages were worn with use, and a strong, slightly angled script filled them. Kaum’s hand. Glancing up briefly to notice I was now alone on the rocks fringing the Spherical Palace, I began to read the very words written on the wall at my back.

“Year of 1391. I am Chahl, wise of the city that sparkles beneath the world. The people have spoken; our happiness is but an endowment seeking a place to etch its joy into history. So the center of Oplalod was chosen and so it shall be.”

I stopped reading. What was Oplalod? Maybe the Liln named Chahl had meant Opalal. That would make more sense, and the center of Opalal, or the Opalal people, would be the Palace, the very spot the epigraph was carved. I checked the translation, but the word was spelled the way Chahl had intended. Storing the question away, I picked up the book and again entered that time almost seventy years ago.

“The Humans have come to the shore once more and we join them in a firelight dance throughout the night. Joy is on every face as the Celebration of Letakia embraces us.”

I reread the last two sentences. It couldn’t be . . .

“Many years from now, new generations will acknowledge the words of Chahl and remember these strange neighbors: the Humans who carry friendship in their hearts and the Harpers who bring their music of chimes. Others come too, the greens and blues, to share our happiness.”

Chahl’s words are not as hard to understand as I had worried they would be. The Celebration of Letakia was the very festival mentioned in the Opalal war proclamation Kaum had let me read. And it wasn’t difficult to understand that the “greens” and “blues” Chahl had spoke of were, in fact, the Drayn and Skayn.

Closing the little book, I looked out across the still ocean. The noon tide was rising and would soon submerge the rocks I sat on, lapping right up to the edge of the Palace. An island used to exist out there where only the sea flowed now.

Gathering up the book of Liln runes, the epigraph transcription, and Kaum’s translation, I picked a path through the rocks and back to the Palace, a place filled with dark secrets I felt I was close to unraveling.

But could I handle what I might find?

***

I headed to the sickroom after hiding the three books under the mattress of my bed. It wasn’t that I was afraid one of my fellow students would take the attractive leather-bound books. I highly doubted that Kaum had given me the only copies. But I didn’t trust anyone to keep the knowledge to themselves. The Historian had taken great care to conceal the lost friendship between the Opalal and Humans. Though I didn’t understand why, I felt like it wasn’t my place to give that information freely.

I also felt like it was wrong for Kaum to keep it from others. I wondered what would happen if my fellow Opalal – and the Humans as well - knew what I now knew. The fact that the two peoples were not originally enemies changed the situation a good deal. Something had set off the spark of war, breaking the bond between the two.

I believed Kaum was hiding more about the war than even the epigraph could expose. Wars didn’t start by themselves, and hate didn’t begin for no reason. Up until a few days ago, I had known who was the cause of this war: the Humans. But then Tobias had come with his strange-colored hair and tearful eyes, and my assurance had come crumbling down.

In the infirmary, the excitement had wound down as yesterday’s visitors returned to their everyday lives. Only a handful of patients still needed special care, and medical staff came in periodically to change bandages and give medication. Among the patients were three common soldiers- one Blue, two Green - and a mixture of Skayn and Drayn on different levels in society, mostly volunteers who had gotten swept up in the battle. Like Yuli.

“Do you need something?” a hospitable physician asked, examining the Green Warrior’s leg, or what was left of it. I quickly looked away from the bloody stump, feeling sick and light-headed.

“No,” I said softly. “No. Thank you. I won’t trouble you.”

Yuli’s bed was the next one over. I ached to see my brother revived and smiling his lopsided smile that I missed so much. Instead, he was just as I had left him. His thin body lay still under the covers, and his complexion was a pasty white with droplets of sweat on his upper lip.

“Oh, Yuli,” I moaned. I fell to my knees at his bedside, grasping his clammy hand, my tears damping the sheet that still covered him lightly.

“A friend?”

I glanced up to see the soldier with green ribbons – a Drayn – laying beside Yuli. He was looking down at me kindly. He looked like he hadn’t slept the past few nights.

I sniffed, wiped my eyes with my sleeve, and sat on a short stool nearby. “He’s my brother.”

The soldier leaned back into his pillow. “Sorry,” he said.

Not knowing why I kept speaking to him or why a higher-ranking Opalal such as himself had first spoken to me, I said, “I shouldn’t have let him go.” The tears came again. “If only I had known—”

“But you didn’t know,” he interjected, staring at the low ceiling. “I’ve asked myself the same over and over since the battle. If only I’d known, I’d not have chosen to be on duty that evening. I’d still be whole, still’d have it. But now . . . ” He indicated the bandaged stump of his leg. “Now I can’t even walk on my own. Sometimes it tingles and feels as if, well, as if I still have all my leg— like it’s still there.”

I didn’t know what to say.

The Drayn soldier smiled grimly. “You didn’t know what’d happen and neither did I. No one does. But what matters is what you do afterward.” He shrugged and turned on his side with his back to me. Presently, his breathing slowed, and I heard a soft, droning snore coming from him after a few moments.

Torn between what to do, I stayed with my brother until the last rays of the disappearing sun had turned everything golden. I kept waiting to see a flicker of life from him. A twitch of an eyebrow, or his hand squeezing mine, but no sign that he had awakened came.

I slipped out of the sickroom, and hurried to the three books stashed under my bed. By the time I had hid them in my small bag, slung it over my shoulders, and adjusted my disheveled braids, a faint glow was all that was left of the day.

Thunder sounded over the hills, and the possibility of rain grew. Scanning the hallway my door opened to, I slinked away from the lanterns lining the black-tiled path that wound through the Palace. I welcomed the security of the darkness, wanting to be alone as I rested myself on the low wall surrounding the same japip tree where Yuli had surprised me. Here, tucked away in the corner of the deserted courtyard, no one would bother me.

Feeling tears well up again at the thought of my brother, I hurriedly opened my bag, finding Kaum’s translation and flipping to where I had stopped earlier. By the dim glow of my candle, I began to read the words of Chahl.

“The Celebration of Letakia has been a tradition among us for as long as records have been kept. And for as long as the Liln prevail, it will remain as much a part of our lives as those of the Humans and the other Opalal races.”

I skimmed over the next pages describing the different ceremonies that made up the Celebration of Letakia, the Liln celebration of life. There was the Dance of Friends dedicated to the Humans, and the Gift to the Harpers which was a tribute to the odd aquatic animals. And the Song of Peace, and Song of Love. Chahl then moved into the ceremonies he deemed the most important and elaborate: the Dances of the Past, Present, and Future

After running through the Dance of the Past that described only the good fortunes and friendships the Liln people had shared, and the Dance of the Present that showed how the good luck still continued, I paused on the Dance of the Future. It spoke only of happiness and prosperity and gave no indication that the Liln had ever expected war was coming.

I skipped through the next few years that only described different ceremonies and parties the Liln held. But then I stopped when I came to a certain year: the year the Human war had begun.

“Year of 1441. Cries pour from Lilanya, our favored city. Words of betrayal are buried within its blessed walls as our meager defenses collapse under the Fury. The Fury shouts ‘you have destroyed Nespa and so we have come to destroy you,’ and yet no Liln here can say what Nespa is or take this Fury away from our friends, the Humans.

With my clear eyes, I have witnessed the unheard of: strewn across the sea’s waters and piled onto the shores are the Harpers. Our companions, our brothers and sisters, our very souls have been slaughtered by the Fury. Strange is it that this night was chosen as the Fury’s arrival, the same night an unscheduled peace celebration was called, and all Liln and Harpers were gathered in Lilanya to hear the message. We waited long and patiently, then the Fury scaled our walls and descended into our midst, weapons in hand, confusion spreading and panic spreading. Not a one was spared. Even now the Humans kill both child and elder, Harper and Liln.

I, Chahl, have escaped to scratch this massacre into history as the Human Fury searches for me. I have called for my Oplalod brothers to come to our aid until my voice is gone and not a face has peered down over the wall.

There were long marks in Kaum’s book that must be the same I had seen on the side of the Palace, then: The Fury has found where I have hidden. I carve these words even as it approaches and shoots fire from its hollow tubes. More long marks. I am wounded, my shoulder pierced with metal balls, bullets, they are called, they come for the last, I ——— our Paladin must come, as has been foretold. This war was not meant to be. The Fury must be stopped among the Humans, and I fear it —— the Oplalod, —— already. I pray you, my brothers and sisters, one will come who —— name is —— the last of the fleeing Harpers have told me so. With the three parts of all Oplalod: hair of the silvers, eyes of the greens, and the ———— Liln, —— as the Fury also com——

The wind came as a chilly blast, startling the eerie calmness that had blanketed the Spherical Palace. With the last rosy glow of the sun now gone, the air was deathly cold, slicing through my meager garments and beckoning me to shiver violently. The chill ran swiftly up my spine, raising gooseflesh on my bare arms and throwing me back to the present day.

Slowly, as if waking from a dream, I unclenched my eyes, glassy with brimming tears, and stared at the Liln translation where it had come to rest at my thigh. I was now aware of the arriving storm as its preceding gale flipped the stiff pages of the book. A great gust whipped at my braided hair, and slammed the book shut just as a slap of thunder radiated overhead. I flinched, accidentally knocking over my candle which I snuffed out quickly.

Lightning quickly followed, and in the brief glow, I spotted an unfamiliar face peering down at me from the top of the outer wall. I yelped just as thunder sounded again. I jumped to my feet, and instinctively clutched the Liln translation to my chest. Still staring, the human – I was sure he was Human now – leapt nimbly to the deep shadows beneath the narrow catwalk.

I instantly recoiled, the backs of my knees hitting the ledge of the japip tree behind me. I knew the man regarding me right now had no idea of the mistake made twenty years ago, and even though I still had yet to discover all the truth about the war, it was clearly a mistake. If only I could tell the Humans this, tell my people what I had learned… I shoved these thoughts away as the glint of a drawn blade flashed in the man’s hand.

Chapter Eight

Fear rose all too readily, the cold terror this man stirred within me. I stood there, my muscles frozen in the same as they had the first time I’d come face-to-face with a Human. I watched helplessly as the man looked left and right before stepping out of the shadows toward me.

As if he’d finally noticed that I was no soldier and was alone, he relaxed, maneuvering slowly to the right and keeping at a distance. My eyes never left the knife gleaming in the moonlight. I choked, thinking I should run or scream. But I didn’t do either.

The man opened his mouth as if he meant to speak, then stopped, and I sensed he was nervous being cornered like he was.

“Please, don’t scream,” said the man at last.

Startled at the pleading in his voice, I let out the deep breath I had been holding and took another.

“Don’t scream,” said the man again and the blade in his hand lowered. Moving forward, he said, “My son and mother were captured, and I—” He faltered when I stumbled away from him.

I found my voice and it came out surprisingly steady. “Come closer and I will scream.”

Slowly, the man laid his knife on the ground and straightened, holding his hands palm up in front of him to show they were empty. “I am alone,” he said. “I only came to rescue my family. Please. I won’t hurt you.”

“I don’t believe you,” I said. But I did. Why did I find myself believing him?

The man suddenly tensed, looking fearfully past me.

I glanced over my shoulder, and nearly collapsed with relief. Striding across the courtyard toward me was Salek. I kept my eyes warily on the Human as the Skayn Warrior drew near.

“Aya,” he said. “It’s awful late for you to be wandering by yourself, isn’t it?”

I said nothing, and the Human picked up his knife. Finally noticing we weren’t alone, Salek cursed under his breath and drew his dagger expertly. I realized with sickening reality that it was probably the same one with which he had killed the Human attacking me before. Salek stepped in front of me, his flashing blue eyes narrowed.

I managed to smile gratefully. “He said he was alone.”

“He said?” Salek glanced at me and arched an eyebrow. “What else did he say?”

“That he was here to rescue his family,” I told him, remembering the plea in the man’s voice.

Salek snorted. “He was lying.”

But I wasn’t so sure. “Be careful, Salek. I don’t think he’s going to back down.”

The Warrior nodded and tightened his grip on the dagger. “Put the blade down slowly and place your hands where I can see them,” he ordered the Human. The man responded by raising the blade defensively.

“Told you.”

“I see we have a minor problem. Alert the Palace, Aya.” I agreed, and he added, “And watch out for more of them.”

Edging away, I broke into a run, the Liln translation still clutched in my arms. I headed for the only person I really knew at the Spherical Palace and where to find him. Locating the path that led to the Historian’s private quarters, I followed it until I recognized the plain wooden door that led into his quarters. Hoping he wouldn’t be too upset at me for disturbing him in the night, I rapped the knocker. I waited and no one came. Worried about Salek, I pounded on the door. Still, there was no answer.

I slumped against the wall just as the rain began to flow. The water fell in an instant downpour, soaking everything in sight. I pressed the Liln translation underneath the vines to keep it dry, but that meant the rest of me was drenched within seconds. My white hair stuck to my face, and my skin turned chilly.

If I couldn’t get to Kaum, I would just have to find someone else to help. But who? I wrapped my arms around the book and leaned over it, hoping that my body would protect it from the rain. Praying Salek could hold on just a bit longer, I continued on. I was bound to see help sooner or later.

By now the winds had calmed and died out, and all I could hear was pounding of the rain on stone and glass windows. I staggered and almost collapsed on my sleep-denied legs. Once more I almost slipped in a deep puddle. I considered heading out of the political wing into the military wing, but I was afraid more Humans might have joined the man in the courtyard. I fixed my gaze on two double doors in the distance, the blood pounding in my temples.

Not taking heed to whom might be on the other side or wasting the time to knock, I flung open one of the doors, not expecting such a great door to be so weightless. I was momentarily blinded by the bright light that came streaming down on me, I could do nothing but squint stupidly at the hundreds of shapes in the light.

No, not hundreds, I realized as my eyes gradually adjusted. Only about a dozen Drayn and Skayn. One of the Drayn, one with pale green hair, rushed over to me. I rubbed my eyes and stared again and saw who it was.

I ran forward and grasped the old Historian’s hand. “Human— Human.” I couldn’t force any other words past my dry throat. Kaum made a motion with his hand and was handed a glass of water.

Taking a large gulp, I swallowed it painfully, and said all in a rush, “There’s a Human in the courtyard, and Salek came and he told me to find help and—”

“Wait, child. I can’t make out a word you’re saying. Slow it down and tell us the whole story.”

I took another drink of the cool water. Calmer now, I began to relate to him what had happened, leaving out the parts about why I had been alone to begin with or why I had believed the Human’s story. When I got to the parts about Salek, I started to remember that we weren’t alone.

Most of the Opalal in the room were clothed in full black gowns. I stared openly at them, not caring that I was disobeying the codes of conduct. I didn’t know what the black gowns meant, or what Kaum was doing with them, and they wore no ribbons to indicate their rank.

“Aya,” Kaum said sharply, and I snapped my head back toward him. “How many Humans did you see?”

“One.”

“Are you sure?”

“Aye. Salek thought there were more,” and my eyes flickered to the Superiors sitting silently around the rectangular table. One of them seemed very familiar. I tore my eyes away. “But I think there is only one.”

Kaum made a gesture with his hand and the two guards— I hadn’t noticed them when I first came in— left the large oval room.

“Will two be enough?” I asked the Historian.

“For one Human it will.”

Once again the Historian surprised me. Even Salek hadn’t believed me at first, but Kaum had with no questions asked.

Now that the Human wasn’t a threat anymore, I wanted to find Salek, make sure he wasn’t hurt, and ask him to help me sneak into the dungeon again. And after reading the Liln translation, I had so many questions, and Tobias was the only Human I knew.

I dipped my head. “Thank you, Historian. I am sorry for interrupting your… meeting.”

“Nonsense,” Kaum replied, waving my apology away.

One of the black-robbed Opalal stood – a Skayn female – and fixed her cool gaze upon me. “If I may ask, Great One— is this the child you have spoken of?”

Kaum laid a hand on my shoulder. “She matches the description, does she not?”

“She does.”

“Then, Superior Tizporah, you have your answer.”

Superior. I had heard that word before, in one of my classes about the Opalal government system. The Superiors were a group of specifically selected officials of high station whose power was second only to the Emperor. Their authority was the final word in all Opalal nations. What was Kaum doing with them?

Tizporah bowed her head, conceding his point. “Have you explained anything to her yet?”

“I don’t understand,” I said, breaking in. Let them think me rude, if they wanted. “Explained what to me?”

“Later, child,” Kaum said. He had a slight edge of irritation – or was that just insistence? – that told me not to push him. “There are more pressing matters at hand. See this as a learning experience for you. I suggest you sit beside Superior Tizporah with your ears open.”

Not knowing what I might need to learn here in this odd late night meeting, I obeyed silently, and took my place. The Skayn female smiled down at me gently.

At the head of the table, Kaum placed a pair of bifocals on his nose and peered at a scroll spread before him. “Let’s see if everyone is present.” Down through the list he read the names of the Superiors. “Hazimo, Ilm, Unva, Ilfnook, Ezi, Tizporah, Zahar… Boushki.”

I recognized the last name. It didn’t take long to find the Professor in the room, as he sat across the table from me. He was taller than all of the others, and he was only one of a few who had their hoods drawn over their heads. A few days had passed since I let my home, though it seemed like much longer, and I hadn’t seen Boushki since he had accompanied me and Da to the Palace. His dark eyes were focused on me, and I resisted the urge to squirm in my seat.

After calling the roll, Kaum shuffled through a few other papers. “First order of business: are there any more reports of Humans who could pose a danger to us?”

“A small group,” Zahar stated, “was spotted not even fifteen miles west of here.”

A thought tugged at the back of my mind at the mention of the group of Humans not far away. Hadn’t Tobias insisted that he wouldn’t tell me the location of something? Had he been talking about these Humans?

Zahar continued. “They are a small party of a few dozen or so, and are of no real concern. With our heightened securities, and the supplemental forces arriving next week, we should be able to handle any sort of attack that comes.”

The stout Drayn to my left snorted. “The Battle of Teruga two years ago, Superior Zahar, was begun by less than half of that number.”

“Only because of Drayn error.” It was Boushki who had spoken, sneering as he did so.

The stout Drayn rose out of his seat. “We had a fire spreading quickly in Dray-anya that same day. You know that, Boushki, yet you chose to ignore it even today.”

“How many Drayns does it take to crush a Human raid?”

“Sirs,” Kaum said, anger in his voice. The two Superiors quieted immediately, though Boushki continued to jeer at the other Superior. “Superior Boushki and Superior Elfnook,” he continued, looking at each of them in turn. “We are friends here. It’s best you remember that. Humans are a threat whether there are one, two, a dozen, or a thousand of them. But our duty is to the Palace, to protect it. Unless these Humans show signs of a pending attack, we let them be.”

During these few minutes, I had watched and listened to the argument in silence, letting recent events catch up to me. Now that they had, something else twitched in the back of my mind. I was surrounded by Superiors, the second-highest ranking Opalal. Being only a student, I knew my place; obedient to all higher than me. Professors and the like were respected in every way, yet they also answered to Opalal leaders. But Kaum . . .

Watching him carefully, I finally realized what was so wrong about this meeting. It wasn’t that it was held in secret – Opalal politicals were so secretive about their doings. No, it was the fact that Kaum was attending it. And not only attending, he ordered the Superiors with such sureness like it was the most natural thing in all the world for someone, someone not even a Professor, to do so. And that’s all Kaum was: a professor, a Historian, nothing more.

The Superiors were so arrogant of their rank, they even tried to quarrel amongst themselves. They certainly would go to the Historian for help if his study in history was needed, but not like this.

Who is he really? I found myself wondering. Historian . . . Kaum . . . who had picked me from all the rest of the scholars learning at the Spherical Palace to study under him; who had violated all mandatory customs without a second thought; who had befriended me, given me what encouragement I needed; who surprised me again and again.

Who was he?

The room had grown silent, and I saw every Superior staring up at me. In my thoughts, I had risen to my feet. My face grew hot, and I wanted to be anywhere but here in this oval room.

Kaum gazed at me thoughtfully, almost as if he was daring me to speak. Lore, I had a right to know the truth, didn’t I? I might just be a student, but if he wanted me to be his student, then I wanted to know who he really was. I hadn’t been sure, but when he looked at me that way with a glint of amusement in his old emerald eyes, I knew Kaum was not just a Historian.

Raising my chin up, I said defiantly, “I wish to be told why you act as though you are higher than these Superiors. I apologize for my rudeness, but— but I wish to know. I . . . ” I faltered, then stood even straighter. “I think I have a right to know.”

From the horrified expressions on the Superiors’ faces, I knew I had spoken way out of turn. “I — I apologize,” I mumbled again, staring at my hands tightly gripping the edge of the table. I expected a harsh rebuke and when he said nothing, I sneaked a glanced up at him.

The twitch in Kaum’s lips had spread to a half-smile. “No apology needed. You are right, Aya. You do have the right to know who I really am. However…” His smile faded slightly. For once, he seemed upset, some thought in his mind causing his brow to furrow. “I didn’t think you would ask this of me as soon as you have.” He spoke slowly, carefully choosing his words. “Your question is not one I can answer now.”

I nodded darkly. Why was I so mad at the Historian? Deep inside I had known he wouldn’t tell me the truth. Even the Liln epigraph had only raised more questions within me. Truth fled Spherical walls the way shadows fled a lit candle, though they were always there, seeping through the beams of light and engraving themselves on the sides of castles.

I clenched my hands into fists and hid them under the folds of my skirt. The Liln translation lay in my lap, and I felt another surge of anger. This book held proof that Humans and Opalal had not always been enemies, that they had once lived peacefully and without fear of each other. Proof such as this could and would change the whole outlook of the war, and yet my own people buried it. Kaum buried it. I was certain Kaum knew the words of the Liln named Chahl who had given his life in order to let us know what had really happened.

Yuli had been injured in a war that should have never begun.

Suddenly, I threw the leather-bound book across the table with a cry that was more of a sob, and fled from the oval room.

Blue Wings

Words: 28,000

just the beginning, methinks