KEISARA
As the third bell rung Keisara gathered up his new textbook along with the papers he’d been inscribing his lecture notes upon. School was still a strange concept to him. He understood what it was all about and how to do it: you sit down, write down what the Magister tells you, and then in a few weeks you write a test to see if you remember it or not. This he all understood, and could do quite well. In fact, Keisara had become so good at this cycle that he was able to recall from memory anything that people had said to him, however Galdur had advised him to continue writing physical notes so that the other Magisters did not think he was slacking off. Stepping out of the classroom Keisara glanced at Nathair, and then back at his father. Magister Galdur gave a small smile and winked at him. Keisara thought about going up to speak to him, but before he could the serious girl from before locked arms with him.
“Interesting first class huh? Wanna chat in the courtyard a bit before the next class? I’m curious about you” said Lyra with a polite smile. Keisara couldn’t fathom what anyone could possibly find interesting about himself, but did not want to come off as rude to this nice person.
“Um.. sure” he mumbled. Lyra waved goodbye to the Magister and began to drag Keisara through the opulent halls of Serah’Kan. Lyra pointed out several details of the academy to Keisara as they made their way towards the front courtyard.
“Down the hall and to the left you can find the library, that’s one of the few rooms that passes through multiple stories of the building. And those large open doors lead to the dining hall, which if you pass through the back of you can much more quickly get to the back field where the athletics and outdoor activities are held. Hmm… what else…”
“Where do the servants reside?” asked Keisara. Lyra’s expression tightened for a moment as her eyes scanned Keisara’s face.
“They’re below. I think, I’ve never seen the place but I have see them in lines waiting for the guards to let them through. And here on our left we can exit to the front, come on!” As Keisara was pulled out into the soft morning light he was surprised to see how many students were outside after class. Most were gathered up in groups of three or more, chatting and snacking under the sky blossom canopy. Other laid in the grass, or sat on metal benches reading and writing. Lyra led him over to one such bench that faced towards the academy. Keisara sat down on the left side and Lyra sat down on the right. Keisara could see her gaze and smile in his periphery, but he could do not but look down at his shiny black shoes. Lyra swiftly took the initiative.
“So, I think a proper introduction is necessary. I’m sure you heard my name in class earlier but once again, my name is Lyra Olcender, I’m from a long line of Daggcasurian merchants, bankers, traders, brokers, and goldsmiths. We have extended family still living back in Daggcasur, but several generations back the head of the family established operations in Arokia and since then we’ve been living here in Orsus. Alright, now it’s your turn.” Keisara immediately felt overwhelmed. She has so much history, so much family, he thought, all I have is…
“Um.. well… I’m Keisara G-Galdur, and-” before he could continue Lyra jumped back in.
“I knew it! I saw the way you guys kept looking at each other! Wow, so your father is our professor. What’s he like at home? What does your mother do?” Home? Father? Mother? Oh no I don’t want to think about those things, if I tell her what would she think? But I shouldn’t lie to her she’s been so nice to me, but what if she hates me after I tell her? Keisara mulled over the same thoughts over and over, and rapidly spiraled inside himself until he was jolted out of it by Lyra’s hand touching his hand.
“Are you okay?” she asked, craning her neck around to his front to look him in the eyes. Keisara breathed.
“Y-yes. Sorry. Um… I don’t have a mother, or– what I mean is I don’t know my birth mother, o–or father. Magister Galdur is my adopted father. I was really little when he adopted me, so I don’t remember my birth parents. I live with him and his partner Lucien. Lucien runs a bookstore in town out of the first floor of our home. Sorry, if that was too much.” Lyra continued to look into his eyes, despite Keisara still staring at his shoes.
“No, it’s okay,” she smiled, “I’m sorry you don’t remember your parents, I’m sure that must be hard. Do you at least know who they are? Or how Magister Galdur adopted you from them?” Keisara shook his head.
“I asked him once and he said he couldn’t tell me. I haven’t brought it up since then. I’m not sure what difference it would make if I knew. They’ve never come back for me, if they are even still– you know…”
“I’m sure they have a reason that they had to leave you Keisara. And I’m sure that whatever they are doing they always have you in mind. I wonder if–” as Lyra attempted to convey her thought to Keisara, across the courtyard about 300ft away a scream rings out as a human boy jumps from a second story window and falls onto the courtyard below. Keisara freezes but Lyra grabs his arm and pulls him towards the gathering crowd. “Come on! Let’s see what’s going on!” As she starts running Keisara is forced to run too and look forward to avoid tripping. A crowd of students begins to form around the fallen boy, and from the entrance of the academy, two Arokian guards rush forth towards the scene, their faces contorted in rage. The guards reach the boy first, and as Lyra and Keisara push through the crowd to get a better view more screams from the students ring out. Lyra stops as she breaks through the crowd and brings her hands up to her mouth. “Oh, Oforander…” she whispers. Keisara doesn’t want to look, he can feel his blood pumping through his body, he can hear the sounds of spitting and moaning and of heavy boots kicking something soft. He looks. For a moment time halts as he takes in the full picture. Standing above are the two Arokian guards, their gazes towards the ground, their legs in an arc to be delivered into the child on the ground. The pale dirt of the courtyard itself is slowly being stained a dark brown around the boy. Several teeth dot the ground like small pinkish pearls. A dark red fluid is pouring out of his legs where fragmented bones have broken through his olive skin. His servant’s clothes and face are dirty and wet with blood, but even with his dark hair plastered to his swollen face Keisara can still recognize the boy as Nathair. Time resumes slowly as Nathair looks up into Keisara’s eyes. He tries to say something but Keisara can’t hear a word, he can’t hear anything right now but a endless ringing tone in his skull. All he can do is watch as the guards continue to kick and stomp Nathair over, and over again. That can’t be Nathair, Keisara thought, That’s not what he looks like. What’s going on? Why are they hurting him? Is he going to die? Am I going to watch someone die? I can’t move. I can’t do anything. Please someone help him he’s going to die why is no one doing anything why can’t I hear help him help him help him. Despite the alacrity of his thought, Keisara stood frozen in place next to Lyra who had started screaming for help alongside some of the other students. A horrifically long 30 seconds had passed before running up to the scene came Magister Galdur. “Back! Back all of you get back!” he shouted as he briskly pushed through the crowd towards the guards. “Stop immediately what you are doing that is my servant! Release him!” The guards stopped, and turned to face the Magister. Galdur stood a good few inches taller than the Arokians, typical of the tall, slender Naveniens, however this difference in height seemed null in comparison to the natural athleticism of the Arokians. They clearly felt no shred of intimidation from the Magister. “Leave his punishment to me for that is my duty, not yours. I need my servant to be able to work for me otherwise he will be useless” said Galdur, not taking his eyes off the guards. The guards looked at each other with a smirk, before one spat down at Nathair, and then spoke in a deep voice, “Too late.” The guards shoved their way past the Magister, walking at a leisurely pace back towards their post. The Magister eyed the Arokians as the left, and then turned to the remaining students. Not many were left, although many looked upon the scene from afar. Galdur quickly spotted Keisara who was staring vacantly at the body of Nathair, and Lyra who was next to him tugging on his shirt. The Magister approached Keisara and knelt in front of him, blocking Nathair from view before gently placing his hand upon his son’s shoulder.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Keisara? Can you hear me? It’s alright now,” he said to him. Keisara still felt like he was in a daze, but heard the Magister’s words.
“Na– thair. He’s dea–” mumbled Keisara before Galdur stopped him.
“He’s not dead, not yet anyway. But he needs help– quickly” said Galdur. Lyra glanced at the badly beaten body of Nathair and shook her head.
“The kind of help he needs– it isn’t available to humans. If he was Navenien or Daggcasurian then sure, he’d make it probably, but the servants can’t fix that. He’ll surely–” said Lyra dryly.
“Enough!” Galdur interrupted. “I will do my best to attend to the boy, the two of you should head to your next class immediately. Lyra please guide Nathair there, I’ve no doubt you were going to do so anyway.” Lyra’s cheeks grew slightly red with the comment, but none the less she wordlessly grabbed Keisara by the arm and pulled him along back to the academy. Time still felt weird to Keisara, even as he was guided away he watched the Magister carefully pick up the body of Nathair and begin marching back towards his office.
Throughout the rest of his day Keisara focus. He felt as if he had detached from his surroundings. He sat in his classes and mindlessly wrote word for word what his professors had to say. At lunch he sat across from Lyra as she talked on endlessly about what had happened earlier and if he was okay. He would always just nod his head while staring through the table. After the 6th bell rung and Serah’Kan’s students began their trek home for the day, Keisara wandered back to his father’s office and knocked on the dark polished door. Footsteps clacked on stone in the office towards Keisara, stopping before the door.
“Who is it?” asked his father’s voice.
“It’s me father. Are you ready to go home?” asked Keisara.
“Ahh, I see. My, is it that late already? No, no, you go on ahead without me Keisara, I have some business to attend and it will keep me here awhile. You go on ahead I’ll see you later.”
“Oh. Alright father. Um– father is that boy okay?” There was a pause from his father, a hesitation.
“Yes, he should be alright. I returned him to his quarters earlier. He needs much rest now so I imagine you won’t see him around for a few days. Now, go on son.” Keisara heard the footsteps walk further back into the office. With little choice, Keisara began his walk back home alone. I gathered his thing from his locked and left the academy through the front courtyard.
Keisara did often walk through the city alone. He spent nearly all of his free time stowed away in his room reading books from Lucien’s shop, Black Cat Books, that was located on the ground floor of their home. It was not that he did not enjoy the outside world, but that he was afraid of what and who it contained. People. Keisara feared others. He never could tell what other people were thinking, and he always felt like he was dissapointing them. The streets were quite busy at this hour. In the part of the city he lived in, the population of Daggcasurians and Naveniens outnumbered the Arokians five to one. This district of the city, known as the Owl District, is generally considered as Orsus’s “cultural district”. But what that seemed to mean to Keisara was that the Arokian’s visited and shopped in this here, but generally did not live within in– much to Keisara’s surprise. While the whole of Orsus features the typical Arokian architecture of symmetrical, beige concrete buildings with semi-circular arched doorways and tall smooth pillars, the Owl District was the exception. Where Arokians architects preferred practicality, Navien and Daggcasurian architects took pleasure in the more artistic elements of building construction. The Daggcasurian buildings featured masterful masonry in the form of carved stone reliefs and etched designs. They had intricate, and mathematical gold and silver inlays running along walls and pillars. Daggcasurian storeowners took pride in who had the most beautifully tiled and well polished floors, and their natural competitiveness has driven the quality of their architecture through the roof. Navenien’s on the other hand focus more on the decorative aspects of their stores. Instead of greatly altering the Arokian architecture, they choose to add on their own style to the pre-exisiting structures. The exterior of their stores are recognizable by colorful banners, drapes and signs. Stained wooden doors and benches of birch feature historical carvings from their homeland; carvings of folk legends like Xallia Goldenhawk or Thyllamir, or of the Navenien goddess Ramaht. Inside of these stores scented candles and incense burn, tea brews, and oil paintings and ink prints hang on the walls. As Keisara continued to walk and ponder these structures he found himself standing in front one of the many fountains that occupy Orsus. The fountain was quite plain and unadorned save for the statue atop it. Keisara knew, of course, who this figure was, there was hardly a person in all of Zentrum who didn’t know the name. The Prophet of Arok, Rokah Magh’di’Kreh. Keisara looked up at the lifesize 10 foot statue of Rokah in his prime wearing his iconic white leather armor and cloak. The Arokian man stood in the position befitting not a emperor or hero, but of a simple soldier, standing up straight, head held high, his hands resting upon the sword planted in front of him. Rokah’s sword was almost as famous as him, the legendary blade Lynsever (Arokian for “sky-cutter”), a falchion with a feathered hilt said to be capable of controlling lightning. Keisara liked reading about stories like that. A magic blade, forged from the beak of the Godbeast Lynfågel back when the New Dawn had begun. He wasn’t sure if those stories were true or not, but he still enjoyed the idea of them, of magic.
After another 15 minutes of walking Keisara was home. It was easy to recogize by the sign that dangled above the front door that featured a painted black cat sleeping on a tome. He pulled open the door to and stepped inside. There wasn’t anywhere in this store that you could without seeing a book. The walls were lined with wooden shelves chock full of books or scrolls, and any wall space that didn’t have a shelf either had some art piece or an old poster advertising a literature event that was held at the store. The store smelled as it always did, of book glue and Lucien’s favorite incense, Ashen Hollow, a mix of smoldering birchwood, damp earthmoss, darkwood pine resin, and smoked spiceleaf. As he entered Keisara noticed a few customers still lingering around the store, as well as Lucien behind the counter. Lucien Marsh was a elf like Galdur, except his skin was the colour of mahogany. Lucien hailed from the country to the north of Arokia, Taifale. Taifalen’s are sometimes referred to as “wood elves” although generally they prefer not to be called that– at least that’s what Lucien has told him. Lucien has shoulder-length, wavy dark hair and a short, stubbly beard. He was wearing a dark grey and green robe, circular, silver spectacles. At the moment Keisara walked in he was talking to a customers while petting the shop’s most infamous character– the family cat. Iris was an old black cat who didn’t get up to much nowadays, other than napping on open books or wherever there was an opening in the shelves. Keisara waved and approached the counter. Lucien waved back and smiled.
“Kei! Welcome back, how was your first day at the academy? Where’s Armin?” asked Lucien before taking a drink from his tea.
“It was… good. Father said he was going to be home late. I’m going to go to my room now. Goodnight.” said Keisara who quickly gave a scratch to Iris before heading towards the stairs in the back that lead up to the living area.
“You’re going to bed already? Before supper?” called Lucien, leaning back on his stool.
“Y-yes. I’m not very hungry tonight. I promise I’ll eat tomorrow. Goodnight.”
Lucien sighed, “Goodnight Kei”, he said. Keisara climbed up the stairs one floor to where the “home” was. Here was where the kitchen and living room were, and where Lucien and his father slept. Keisara walked up on more set of smaller stairs to where the small attic space was– to his room. Lighting a small oil lamp Keisara sat on his small wooden bed and looked about his room. His bed was in the darkest corner of the space, pressed up against two walls. Over by the small, circular window was a writing desk for his studies– Keisara did not write recreationally. Other than that the room was quite bare. There was a dresser for his clothes along with a small washbasin and mirror, but seemingly no personal belongings or decorations. A book titled Blades of Legend by Umihass Prey rested on his nightstand. Keisara would only read one book at a time from Lucien’s store, and once he finished he would bring it back down and pick out a new one, usually by Lucien’s recommendation. He had actually already finished Blades of Legend, and had planned on swapping it out tonight, but he didn’t feel like reading tonight, he didn’t feel like anything tonight. Keisara quietly slipped off his academy clothes and into his nightshirt and pants, turned off the oil lamp, crawled under the covers of his bed, and failed miserably to fall asleep. It was long after the sky had grown dark that he heard below faintly the sound of the front door being unlocked and footsteps coming up to the second story. He heard faintly the sound of his father’s voice but couldn’t make out any of the words. As he contemplated trying to sneak up to listen in on their conversation, the fatigue of the day caught up to him, and dragged him down into sleep.