Vitiosi Dei (Heritage of the Blood Book 2) (9 page)

              “I see.”

              “Your mother, though, she was in line to be an Instructor here before she ran off with your dad. They say she was already pregnant with you before they left. I think everyone remembers them because it seems like one of those story book tales that are so popular, of a love that could never be. But it was real, and that makes it even more interesting.”

              “Yeah, well I guess everyone was right, those types of stories don’t end well, and I know it didn’t for my parents.” Shawnrik stretched out on his bed.

              “Yeah,” was all Verrian said as he did something that made the light in the room fade into nothingness.

              Shawnrik wasn't really sure where the light had been coming from before it had faded away, but decided he would look when he woke up in the morning. He hadn't noticed any balls of light or fire—the light had simply been there one moment and gone the next. With all that had happened today, it took a while for his mind to settle enough for him to fall asleep, and when he finally managed it, he fell into a deep slumber filled with dreams of people that he didn't know.

              Waking with a start, he resisted the urge to bolt upright. He had seen what happens to anyone who showed weakness in the cells, and he was only staying out of trouble so far because he was an unknown. At the first sign of weakness he knew that someone would try to hurt him, so he did everything in his power to look as dangerous as a dirty kid trapped in a cell full of goblins could look.

              Yet another dream had come to him in the night, sending him voices and faces that he was sure that he had never seen nor heard before yet were eerily familiar, as if they were a part of him. He had been having the dreams more frequently, and they seemed to be getting longer and more detailed with each intrusion of his sleep. It wasn't that he didn't like having them, but he wished that they would come without him feeling one type of pain or another.

              The pains varied greatly, and would be anything from the cramping of his muscles to headaches, even a hollow feeling deep in his chest. Today's pain was a burning pain on his wrists, right where the manacles were clasped. Having previously moved the manacles a few inches one way or the other in order to get at an itch, he reached down with his right hand to see if moving it would lessen the pain. As soon as his hand touched the cold metal he clenched his muscles, attempting to control his body as it began to recoil away from the thing attached to his wrist.

              Hatred and death seethed forth from the thing, and he couldn't stop the tear that rolled down his cheek. His first thought was that it was simply his imagination because of the pain that he was feeling, but as he placed his hand upon his left manacle again, the same feelings radiated outward. Someone had created these things for one purpose: to hurt and kill.

              As he placed his hand on the chain that connected the manacles, he realized that it was for show. The links were poorly made, and could easily be snapped with the right pressure. Knowing that if he ever needed to he could remove the chains gave the boy a small amount of hope. However, he also knew that even if he were to somehow get out of these mines, he would still be a prisoner, as the manacles suppressed something fundamentally different than his movement. His thoughts continued to gnaw away at him until he heard his fellow prisoners begin to stir. Another day working the mine lay before him, but he found that his body wasn't as weary as it had been since that first day waking up inside these caves. Something had changed.

Chapter 4

Serenity Valley

Year: 3045 AGD

Month: New Year

First Firstday

Serenity Valley

Institute of Learning

              Shawnrik awoke to a melodious buzz humming through his ears. He couldn't quite tell where it was coming from, but it seemed as if Verrian had felt it as well, because the little man was stirring in his bed across the room.

              “Good morning, Verrian,” Shawnrik said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. Verrian's only response was a grunt as he rolled into a sitting position at the edge of his bed, where he stared at his feet as if willing them to move. Shawnrik couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips; he had always loved mornings, but he had seen Nim, Ashur, and Victor in the morning enough times to know that not everyone felt the same. He also knew from experience that people who didn't enjoy mornings usually didn't enjoy talking during them either, especially to cheerful people. Verrian showed all of the signs of being one of those people.

              Shawnrik had already pulled a set of clothes out of the trunk by the time Verrian began to become mobile. Moving about like an undead corpse, Verrian moved towards his chest at the end of the bed and pulled out a neatly folded stack of clothing. Rummaging a little more in the chest, he came back up with a bar of soap, some sort of tiny brush, and an odd tube. The Half-Elf then proceeded to plod out the door without comment. Shawnrik followed, assuming that his roommate knew where they could go to clean up.

              Verrian lead them to the end of the hallway and into a large room, the likes of which Shawnrik had never seen before. One side of the room was full of sinks and a long mirror, and the other two walls were full of stalls. Verrian grabbed a towel off a rack as they entered the room, so Shawnrik followed suit. Shawnrik was just about to ask what the stalls were for, but he noticed that there was water flowing down inside one of them and realized they must be used for getting clean. Entering a stall, the first thing he noticed was a small shelf below the spot that the water had been coming out of in the other stall. Realizing that it was one of the only dry spots in the stall, he placed his clothes inside and closed the hatch of the compartment.

              Shawnrik had thought that Nim's manor had possessed a very good system of indoor plumbing, having had a bathtub in each room, but this was something else entirely. There were two knobs on the wall, one labeled hot, the other cold. For the last two years, Shawnrik had been using one cold body of water after another to get clean, so he thought it might be nice to use hot water for a change. As he turned the knob labeled hot, he heard a series of barely audible whistling sounds inside the wall before the water sputtered to life and began to spray down on him in earnest.

              The water felt really good at first, but it quickly reached the point where he thought that it was going to burn him. Not wanting to get scalded, he turned the knob in the opposite direction, shutting off the stream of water. He then decided that the cold water might indeed be preferable.

              As always, the cold water was rather invigorating, quickly taking away any of the sleepiness that might be lingering. On the streets, he had never been entirely clean, so he hadn't ever missed it, but his time at Nim's had taught him how much better a liberal application of soap and water could make a person feel. Shawnrik decided that he could get used to being clean and wearing a freshly laundered set of clothing.

              Pulling out the towel he had grabbed on his way in, Shawnrik patted himself dry before putting on his clean clothes. As he exited the stall, he noticed Verrian and several other guys standing in front of the large mirror that ran from the first sink to the last. He watched as they combed their hair and did something to their teeth that made them foam at the mouth.

              Running his hand through his hair, Shawnrik realized that it was probably a good idea to try to tame his dark locks. He had left his comb back in his room, however, and he didn't think he needed to stare at himself in the mirror to comb his hair anyway—he never had before. Checking to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, Shawnrik marched out of the room while pointedly ignoring the dangerous looking stranger that marched along with him from the other side of the mirror.

              Verrian was on Shawnrik's heels as he opened the door to their room.  Shawnrik was glad to note that Verrian seemed more alert and slightly less grouchy than he had been earlier. Shawnrik also noted, and not for the first time, how much more light and comfortable everyone's clothes seemed to be compared to his. They reminded him of the outfits that Nim had tailored for Victor and himself when they had first met him. However, he had outgrown those clothes when his body had decided to go through a major growth spurt during his imprisonment in the Blood Orc camp. The only clothes he owned now were the ones he had gotten from the seamstress in Tranquility Mist, which were made for much colder climates than the one he found himself in now.

              “Verrian?”

              “Yeah?” the little man replied, pulling on a pair of socks.

              “Can I ask a few questions?” Shawnrik asked.

              “Sure, no problem. We have a few minutes until breakfast starts.” Verrian threw his dirty clothes into a heap next to the chest at the end of his bed.

              “Okay.” Shawnrik took a breath. “First, I suppose, would be, who takes showers using the hot water? It nearly burned me!”

              Verrian froze, stuck reaching for his shoes, before he slowly turned his head to look at Shawnrik. “You... aren't kidding, are you?” As the confusion set in on Shawnrik's face, Verrian fell over laughing. “You're not!”

              Shawnrik had never been the type of person who liked being laughed at, and he liked even less feeling like he was dumb. At that moment, he was getting a little bit of both from his roommate. Verrian looked up after a few moments of laughter and quickly began making placating gestures and letting his laughter die, seeing the danger that he was currently in.

              “Oh man, I'm sorry,” Verrian said, wiping a tear from his eye. “I grew up in Serenity Valley, so I forget just how far the rest of the world is behind us in quite a few things.” Shawnrik watched as Verrian's expression became contemplative, clearly trying to figure out where to begin.

              When he started speaking, he explained to Shawnrik that the hot and cold water could be turned on at the same time and adjusted so that a person could take a shower in whatever temperature they found comfortable. The only people he had heard of that used only the hot water were a few of the Trolls that lived on campus, and he didn't know if that was hearsay or not. From there, he continued on to explain the means by which the water pressure was maintained in the pipes in order to deliver water throughout the complex, which led to a lesson on what Verrian called the electric current.

              Shawnrik had been so involved in what Verrian had been saying that he found himself standing in the large dark stone room he had talked to Instructor Daymarr in the day before without remembering how he and Verrian had arrived. As Shawnrik looked around the room today, however, he found the room full of tables and chairs, with barely enough room to move between them.

              Joining Verrian at the end of a long line at the north end of the room, Shawnrik continued to listen as his roommate explained that this electric current powered everything from the lights in the room to a dozen other devices that Shawnrik didn't recognize the names of. They were about halfway through breakfast when an apologetic look took over Verrian's features.

              “Oh, I'm sorry Shawnrik, I've been lecturing, haven't I?”

              Shawnrik shrugged. “Not really. You answered my question, and most of the others that sprang up along the way in the process. I need to know these things, and it is good to get some of it out of the way as soon as possible.

              Verrian grinned excitedly. “You are too nice; most people would have told me to shut up half an hour ago.”

              “I would have only done that if you were telling me something I already knew, or felt I didn't need to know. Even then I don't think I would have told you to shut up, though,” Shawnrik replied.

              “Was there anything else you wanted to know?” Verrian asked, obviously excited that he was helping his new roommate.

              “Yes, actually, I was wondering where I could get some clothing like those that you—and everyone else—seem to be wearing.” Shawnrik fingered a loose seam on his heavy shirt. “These seem to be a little out of place.”

              Verrian's eyes lit up as he realized that he could answer the question. “Oh! We are going to have some time after registration; we could go down to the city on the train.” The half-elf's expression changed for a moment. “Do you have any money?”

              “I have some coins and gems.” Nim and Ashur had given him two nice sized bags full of coins before they had parted ways, and Dunnagan had tossed him a bag full of gemstones.

              “What kind of coins?”

              “Gold and silver, mostly.”

              Verrian's eyes went wide, and Shawnrik wondered what was wrong before his roommate spoke. “I guess I will have to explain the monetary system to you on our way down to registration.”

              Registration went well, and Shawnrik ended up signing up for a dozen courses. He started off with Math, History, and reading and writing Giant, or Giantessen, as it was called in the course. After that, he signed up for Basic Science (Verrian's suggestion), Philosophy, and Mythology. His craft classes included Weapon Smithing, Metallurgy, and Basic Engineering. Shawnrik decided to round out his courses with several courses that were under the Physical section that sounded fun: Strength Training, Basic Offense, and a course called Martial Arts. The description for the last said that it was a whole body discipline geared towards unarmed self-defense and wholeness of body and mind. 

              Verrian had signed up for History, Philosophy, Mythology, Basic Engineering, Strength Training, Basic Offense, and Martial arts, stating that if Shawnrik helped him get through the physical courses he could help with everything else, an idea that Shawnrik was in full agreement with. The other courses Verrian signed up for that they didn't share were Linguistics, Social Sciences, Chemistry, Game Theory, and Physics. Shawnrik had no idea what any of those were, but he hoped he would have it all figured out by the end of the first term.

              They were about fifteen minutes into Verrian's lecture on money and what he called a market economy when the machine that Verrian had called a train pulled into the station in front of the Institute. The train seemed to be made of some sort of pliant material that was held in place by metal bolts. Shawnrik was too absorbed in Verrian's lecture to put too much thought into the structural integrity of the vehicle as it sped down the hill towards the city below.

              Outside the window, the scenery went by in a blur, and it only took a few minutes for them to reach the city of Serenity Valley. Between explaining a buyer's market and supply and demand, Verrian noted that they would be getting off at the third stop.

Serenity Valley was unlike anyplace Shawnrik had seen, or even heard of before. Everywhere around him there was a mix of fresh, vibrant colors, and ancient stone structures. The buildings all seemed to be carved from a single piece of stone, their granite edifices speaking of both age and strength. Bright colors stood out amongst the ancient structures, making what could have been a dark and foreboding place seem attractive and welcoming instead. Signs lined the street, some expertly painted, others glowing with a light that reminded Shawnrik of some of the illusions he had seen created by the Mages back in Safeharbor. All together it was a difficult place to take in with a short glance through the train's window.

              After arriving at their stop, the first thing Shawnrik noticed was that the sidewalks were perfectly straight for as far as he could see. The only places in Safeharbor that he had seen such straight sidewalks had been Nim's Manor and the Hall of the One God. The rest of the sidewalks had been relatively smooth, but they went up and down with the terrain and occasionally came to an abrupt end.