“You want me to teach you how to fight?” Nioto was confused by the princes’ sudden request.
Oden nodded, “I thought because you were once a captain in the army then you would have combat experience.”
Nioto sighed, “yes, though that was long ago sweetie,” she placed down the tray of food she had brought to the prince on his desk and looked at them with a deep look of concern in her single eye, “why are you asking this now?”
Oden turned away, holding their arm as they bit their lip, “I know you told me you would protect me, but there are times when you will be unable. I simply wish to know how to protect myself should I ever need to.”
“It is my duty to see to your safety, my sweet Odie,” she brushed a lock of hair from the princes’ face, “but, you are correct, try as I might I can not always be there for you,” she let out another sorrowful sigh, “and perhaps there are enemies I can not shield you from.”
“So then, will you teach me?” Oden bit his lower lip and looked up at her with watery puppy dog eyes.
With a deep breath she sighed in resignation, “yes love, I will teach you.”
And so she would begin to instruct the prince in the basics of fencing after their online studies concluded for the day. For weeks they would spend long hours together perfecting the princes’ form and technique, and whenever Nioto sensed that he had enough, Oden would insist on continuing, pushing themself harder than a child should.
At first their stance was sloppy, and their coordination was lacking, it was clear to Nioto that the prince was not a natural fighter.
“You're expending too much energy with your strikes, the wider you swing the bigger an opening you’ll leave. Use tight fluid motions with your wrist,” she instructed them and they listened. Over time their strikes became more efficient and their stance less sloppy.
After two weeks they began fencing together, not just drills, but a test of the prince's capabilities. Nioto held her sword in her non-dominant hand, while duling the prince. At first he focused to heavily on offense, every attack he made creating an opening, but without being corrected he realized this on their own, and so they became more passive.
When Nioto struck at the prince, they parried the strike, riposted and landed a solid hit on her. After four more rounds of the same Nioto signaled the prince, "that is enough for today," she lowered her foil and gestured for Oden to stop.
"I can continue, I do not wish to stop now," the prince objected.
"You are going to over exert yourself," she brushed her hand across the prince's shoulder, "your body is shaking sweetie, don't force yourself."
"I need to improve!"
Nioto was taken back by their tone, but hid her shock, looking at them with her usual loving gaze and replied, "you have already improved so much, it has only been two weeks and you've shown a lot of growth."
"Then allow me to continue to practice on my own, I feel my balestra needs improvement," they bargained with her.
"Your footwork is fine, your stance is fine, you don't need to force yourself, love."
Oden sighed and hung their head low, "alright, then I will retire for the night."
"Be sure to wash up sweetie, you have had quite the workout today," she giggled as the prince blushed, "and don't worry, I bought you that new soap, so you can smell like a flowery little princess just like you wanted."
"Thank you," Oden bowed their head and handed over their fencing foil before running off to bathe.
Nioto chuckled as she watched the little lord scurry back into the manor.
"Wouldn't unarmed combat be more beneficial for her?"
Nioto spun and drew her rapier as she faced the one who spoke from behind her. "Vox, what are you doing here? Were you not investigating the church in Alest?" She sheathed her foil, relieved that she wouldn't have to fight with a fake sword.
The youthful looking boy hopped down from the stone wall behind Nioto and flashed her a bright friendly smile, "yeah, the Intel was right, what I'm looking for is definitely there."
"Then why are you here now?" She repeated her question.
"Turns out it's not so easy to just sneak in and steal from the Shepherds," it laughed, "and thanks to the little stunt I pulled trying to get it, they've tripled their security."
"Why then would you come here? Wouldn't the Fire Pit be a more suitable place to seek aid?"
"Yeah I mean, I guess, but," Vox rocked on its toes as it talked, taking a moment to pause and hum as it thought about its words carefully, "it turns out I'm going to need a special kind of help getting the heart."
Nioto furrowed her brow, "and what special help do you think you can get here that my Alter can not provide you?"
"Apparently only an anointed one can draw the sword or something like that," it sighed, "and we'll, only anointed ones I know about are of the royal variety."
Nioto took a guarded stance and harsh tone, "you will not be involving the prince in your schemes, wanderer."
"Whoa hey, it's okay, I wasn't going to get her to do anything right now, okay?" Vox cowered under Nioto's powerful glare, "didn't the ceremony get interrupted anyways?"
Nioto relaxed her posture and yawned, "that was a confirmation not an anointing, the prince won't be anointed until they come of age."
The wanderer squatted down and poked at a rock on the ground, "well geez I guess that wouldn't work anyways, guess it's okay though, I doubt that mean ugly sword is going anywhere anyway."
"Sword? Are you referring to the 'Living Word'?"
"Yeppers," Vox jumped back up and stretched its arms and legs, "I tried getting the heart from it, but it wouldn't budge for me. Said only the anointed one could do it."
"We should hope for their sake that Oden is not the anointed one," she placed her hand on Vox's hood, "please do not do anything that would bring danger to my little princess."
"No promises, but I can at least say it wouldn't be till she's older anyways." The wanderers' words brought her no reassurance, only fear for the road that lay ahead.
***
All Isa could see was complete darkness, nothing but an unending black void, she was wholly enveloped in a world of nothingness. Then a spark, followed by a pain within her chest, as though her heart had been shattered into several pieces. She watched as the broken fragments of her heart fell to the ground, two behind her, and another lost to the void. And then she stood there, in the midst of a burning flame that blazed from the kindling of her broken heart. Before her, a dark malicious figure, a man with hungry eyes holding torn pieces of a simple white dress. He leered at her, the hunger in his eyes growing as his mouth opened up in a disgusting grimace. He reached past her to a girl who kneeled motionless on the ground behind her. Sensing this evil man's intentions, Isa grabbed a shard of glass from a broken mirror and lunged at the man, howling at him as she stabbed his arm.
"Stay away from her!" She repeatedly stabbed him until her hands were covered in a mix of both of their blood.
The man threw her to the side and cried "demon!"
Her eyes glazing over as the inky black void began to consume her, she lunged at him once again, then was lost once more in darkness.
"Isa, my child, open your eyes," the sound of her mother's voice coaxed her back to reality.
Her eyes fluttered open and she knew she now sat on a straw mat in the center of a wide open room in the tunnels beneath the city. She blinked a few more times, her vision slowly adjusting to the incredibly dim light around her. She had been training for over six months now, living inside the network of tunnels built by the revolters who came to be her new family. I'm those tunnels, darkness had become her light, having only gone topside a few times a week in order to see her friend Josie and the boys she had rescued. All sorts of unfamiliar things became familiar to her, even the earthy mildew smell of the tunnels that she once found gross became a comforting and familiar scent to her, one that helped lull her back into sanity whenever she felt the shadow in the back of her mind crawl its way to the front. When the world around her came back into focus, she inhaled a long deep breath, holding it in for a moment, then exhaled.
“Have you learned anything new? Is the shadow speaking to you?” Arasta kneeled beside her, and examined her closely.
“Not exactly, but I did see something, like a memory,” it was nothing new at this point, the same flashing images she had been seeing ever since she saved that girl from Loche. Still, the memories were getting clearer, she was certain she could make out the man’s face.
“You remained at front, that at least is progress in of itself,” it was true, everytime she had these memories, the shadow would take over her. This time however she remained in control. Still, that felt like very little progress, perhaps because at the moment the shadow had no desire to take control. Arasta was familiar with her condition, being an alter herself, but even she had never heard of shadows that lived inside alters. It was new territory for the both of them, questions they both had, and hopefully Vox would have the answers.
"Is the wanderer back yet?" Isa asked, her voice hopeful yet tinged with doubt. The woman shook her head, and Isa groaned, "what exactly does that guy do anyways?"
"It's business is its own, but whatever it is, it is for the benefit of the people."
"So you don't know either, huh?"
"We make it a habit of not pressing into the business of gods," she laughed, "perhaps our demonic nature means we don't mesh well with them."
"Gods huh? I don't believe they exist," Isa clicked her tongue, "if a god existed I'd have been made with the right body, not this boy body."
Arasta wrapped her arm around Isa, embracing her in a rare display of motherly warmth, "child your body is not what defines you, you are my daughter regardless of the vessel the gods gave you." It was a sentiment Isa appreciated, but not one she had grown used to.
For so long the world around her refused to acknowledge her as a girl, to many she was just a silly boy, or a delusional nut. Josie was the first to accept her as a girl, and after her Reks, though one had gone missing for years and the other died. Now to have a mother who accepted her as a daughter, it felt foreign, she almost didn't believe she deserved it. Still, she cherished Arasta as much as her hardened heart allowed her. Returning the hug, she whispered, "thanks," as tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Honestly, adorable,” Dylan, the man who showed Isa to the firepit her first day in the tunnels, chuckled as he crept into the room, “sorry that I gotta ruin the moment, but I got some news for you boss.”
Arasta stood and nodded her head to him, “I trust that it is urgent for you to intrude like this?”
“Yeah, something that concerns the both of you, actually,” he began, pausing almost as if he had wanted to build some sort of dramatic tension, though only succeeding in trying Arasta’s patience.
“Out with it then,” she barked at the man.
“Word is the Shepherds are roundin up demon kids from the city and nearby areas to send them to their camps.”
“Would the Shepherds truly exercise such a bold assumption of power? That is tantamount to imprisonment,” for the first time since Isa knew her, Arasta dropped her bold powerful aura, “my faith in the king is nonexistent, and yet it would seem even he would not sit idly by as innocent citizens are being forcibly drafted into the church’s service.”
“Who do you think gave them the order? Take a look at this,” he handed over an envelope with a broken wax seal, “one of our spies copped it off a Shepherd”
She opened it and began to read it aloud, her voice dropping lower with each new sentence, “by order of his majesty, King Marques Bonedarte the third, henceforth it is within the Shepherds holy rights to arrest and take command of all vagrants, demons, petty criminals, sexual deviants, and other’s marked by the church as ‘lost ones’, so that they may be brought into custody and cleansed of their sins. Those who resist seizure, or who attempt to flee are subject to punishment as seen fit by divine retribution, up to or including execution.”
“This may as well be a declaration of war on the Red Light District as a whole,” Dylan spat.
“This is not a decree from the king, but a proposal from the church,” she responded, folding the letter back up, “this seal is a Shepherd Seal, and the bill holds no official signature. Very likely this has been drafted to fool those who may have had their friends and family taken from them,” Arasta walked over to the west wall, where the weapon’s rack hung and lifted her spear, “that being said, it would not be hard for them to convince the king to sign such a bill, as I said before, I have no faith in the goodwill of the king any more than the Shepherds.”
“So what do you think we should do then?” Dylan asked, stepping beside Isa and rustling her hair, “can’t let him go passing any laws that would put this little rascal in danger.”
“I fear for many of our comrades, though most of all I fear for my daughter,” She slammed the spear back into place in the rack, “but to attack now would only give the king all the more reason to sign such a bill.”
“So we’re just gonna wait and see if the kings got big enough balls to go through with it?”Isa challenged her, “action is better than reaction, isn’t it? Things aren’t gonna get better so long as he’s wearin the crown.”
“And so what, you would have us storm the gates of the king's palace in some grand revolt? These may be the kindlings of a revolution, yes, but if not properly stoked the fire will burn up quickly and all we will be left with is ashes.”
“But isn’t that what we are? Rebels? Revolters, whatever you wanna call it?”
“Isa, mind your tongue with me, child!” she chastised the girl, “we are a network of thieves, spies, smugglers, vagabonds, and others who wish to see change in this kingdom. We bring aid to those the church and crown turn away. We are not an army, we are not a charity, we are not a resistance, and we certainly do not have the resources to fight a war.”
“So then what do we do? What is all this training for? What change can this really bring?” Isa stood and stomped her foot on the ground, “you said you’d turn me into one of your spies, but what exactly do you mean for me to do then?”
“I want you to wait and learn, and when the time is right, you will fulfill your purpose,” Arasta kept her voice level and calm, though Isa could sense anger rising in her.
“What purpose? Just tell me what it is you need me to do!”
“I will tell you when the time is right, but now is not the time, then in that time you will be the spark that starts the flames of revolution,” Arasta cooled her fury while Isa’s burned hotter.
“Always with the damn fire stuff, can’t you just talk to me like a normal human being?” Isa roared then stamped her way past Dylan leaving the room behind.
“Just gonna let her go like that?” Dylan chuckled nervously.
“Allowing her to calm her own fury is one of the greatest hurdles she faces, stopping her now would only impede her progress.”
“If you say so…”
Fuming, yet maintaining control, Isa marched her way through the tunnels till she arrived at the lift the Mccory’s manned. She chimed the bell and waited, blowing smoke from her nostrils as she continued to rage internally. Once the lift arrived, it took its sweet time getting her to the top, giving her long enough to mellow her temper. Still, she felt to turn back now would only reignite her anger, and she honestly yearned for the company of her newfound friends, so she left Mccory’s cantina, heading to Kara’s home.
Josie was not home, and Kara was busy tending to customers. Disappointed, she nearly turned back to the firepit when a boy called out to her, “Isa!” She turned and saw Kain running down the street to meet her, “Isa, wait a minute!”
“Heya Kain, what are,” she was interrupted mid sentence as the boy tackled her in a big hug, sending the two of them to the ground. “Gah! Careful!”
The boy giggled, his body straddled overtop Isa as they laid in the streets, “sorry, I just got really excited.”
“Yeah, I can tell,” she chuckled, giving him a slight push, “aight, come on, don’t want the Shepherds catchin you mountin me in public now.”
“But you’re a really comfy cushion, do I gotta get up?” he teased her.
Picking herself back up, Isa pushed him off her, “quit foolin Kain, I’m serious.”
Pouting, he moved to her side and huffed, “fine, if you insist,” once he was off her, a mischievous little smile slid across his face and he tackled her again, “huggies!”
“Gah!” nearly toppling over again, Isa let out a yelp, “gawddammit, 0stop it Kain!”
“So, what brings you out here? You don’t really come visit us more than once a week,” Kain asked a few minutes later as they stood on the balcony outside of his room, watching the city bask in the golden rays of the setting sun.
"I'm just," she inhaled and held it for a second, then sighed, "I'm tired and frustrated and maybe even scared."
"The odd eyed demon, scared? Not possible, you're the bravest person I know," Kain poked her shoulder, "you were just eight years old when you stood up to Loche and broke us all out. If you can face giants like that, what can't you face?"
"The Shepherds, the crown, the fire pit, the city, everything, everyone, it's like this whole world is just set against me," she ranted, her hands shaking and her eyes going dim, "this entire world either wants me to be a prisoner or dead or… I don't know!" She trembled on the verge of tears, "Arasta takine in is a good thing, I know it, and, and yet I don't wanna disappoint her. I'm afraid if I don't become that perfect little soldier she's trainin me to be she's just gonna cast me out, and when that happens, who will I have? I'll be back to where I was before, sleepin in an abandoned bakery on Arch street."
Kain wrapped his arms around her, hugging her from behind, and whispered as he pressed his face against the back of her head, "you'll have me, I'll always stick with you Isa." His gentle touch and dolcet whispers eased Isa's trembling body, her nerves settling in as his warmth pressed against her. No longer holding back she let a torrent of tears flood her eyes, running down her face as she allowed herself to be lost in his embrace.
"I, I'm not as strong as you think I am Kain," she cried, her lips quivering as she spoke between heavy sobs, "I'm just a kid lost in this fucked up world, and I just, I wanna know everythin is goin to be okay."
"It will be," he cooed, "you are strong Isa, strong enough to seize your fate and identity from that wicked old man. And strong enough to assert yourself, defining who you are no matter who disagrees," he chuckled as he rubbed his face into the back of her head, "I envy that about you, you know? You know who you are, you chose your identity based on what's in your heart. My name and life were defined by that man, I was Kain, Loches little playtoy. I still don't think I've been able to fully shed that either."
Kain stayed silent for a while as he continued to hold the crying girl. They say there together watching as the world shifted into a deep purple as the sun fully set. The lights of the city blotting out their view of what must have been an endless starry sky.
"Thank you, Kain, for well… thanks."
"Isa, it's okay, you don't gotta thank me, I'm the one who owes you my life," he let her go and she turned to face him. They smiled at each other as Isa wiped her face dry. "Honestly, I," he began to say but hesitated, turning his eyes away as he worked up the courage to say what he wanted to say, "I love you Isa."
"Huh? No," Isa shook her head, "Kain don't say that."
"But, but it's true!" He stood up and grabbed her hands, "I really, really love you Isa!"
"Kain, we don't really know eachother though," she protested, "you just, it's probably, I don't know… you feel like you owe me, that's all that is."
"No, Isa I mean it," he argued, "yeah we've only been friends for six months, but that doesn't change what I'm feeling for you!"
Isa shook her head again and pulled her hands away from him, "we're kids, emotions are complicated, I don't want you just… I don't want us to ruin our friendship over a misunderstandin."
"But, I do understand how I feel," his mouth began to crack into a sad frown as he tried to force himself to keep smiling, "I really love you."
Isa turned her face away, "please stop saying that, Kain, you're only gonna hurt yourself."
Distraught, his own eyes now crying, Kain turned and ran, running away from his cozy little apartment, and the scene of his rejection. He ran crying into the night, hoping that a little distance from the situation could allow him a moment to mend his broken heart. He ran and ran, till atleast he turned down the wrong street corner, where a group of men in mantels turned to see the crying boy. Their mantels bore the crest of the Shepherds, and besides them were two teens bound in shackles.
"Well, who'd think a little lost demon would make his way to us tonight?" One of the Shepherds snickered as he closed in on Kain, "don't worry little boy, everything will be okay. You just need to be cleansed is all."
The men laughed as they seized Kain, he struggled but they were too strong for him, and before he knew it he was loaded into a van, shackles bonding his wrist as he was chained to the other boys.
Several more weeks passed, Isa had returned to her mother, resuming her training without any further objection. Deep inside though, she could hear the constant growl of the shadow, yearning for the blood of the man from her visions. Try as she could to control her temper, she knew it was only a matter of time before she could no longer deny it's lust for blood.
Meanwhile news spread through the city, the Shepherds were to be given martial authority to clean the streets of the sinners that tainted their holy nation. The bill was to be signed by the king, granting them the right to seize anyone they deemed in need of "purification" to rehabilitate sinners.
Isa's fury grew stronger, and the flames of the revolution were stoked.
"Child, have you identified the man yet, the one you see in the dark recesses of your mind?" Arasta asked as the two meditated together.
"Yes, I think I have," she answered.
"And who do you believe it to be?"
"I am pretty sure its king," she answered, eliciting a smile from Arasta.
"Good, child, then I was right in choosing you for this purpose."
"What purpose?"
"You will kill the royal family."
Paypal
