Rylett, Champion of The Protector.
Date [standardised human time]: May 3rd, 2123
(13 years, 4 months before the invasion of the radji Cradle).
The priestess stood at her post beside the school’s entry arch, the soft sunlight threatening to put her to sleep. She had overslept, waking in her armchair with a stiff back and an unfinished book in her lap. Another late night, she mused. I could shut my eyes right now and no one would notice. She shook her head of it, reminding herself that she stood at guard. Some in her ministry said that a champion had no greater honour than when they stood beside a crypt and performed the resolution. But in her own experience the pre-school standing was always the most insightful, the most rewarding of her duties.
Some children hugged and laughed with their parents, others did not give them even a glance. A few arrived teary, some laughing, others on the mend. Some arrived in hovercars, many by foot. Each a useful datum, not to inquire upon merely to note, all enriched these people she knew and taught. But it was more than mere patterns, mere duty. All their lives mingled in that moment, the sounds of hundreds of children, the patter of their feet. Rylett could meditate to it if she wished.
She smiled warmly as a gaggle of youths passed her on their way inside. The older students tended to loiter fashionably around the gate, laughing with one another, or sparring in mostly harmless banter. The familiar roar of a deceptively small electric engine turned a few heads, unusual in the city. A few moments later Imdi pushed his way past the throng of dallying students, scratching at the caramel curls of fur behind his ears. Whilst he had the darker undercoat of his father the boy had inherited the easy blonding of Turin, adding the odd light streak. She saw him glance at the words above the door as he always did, the little habit making her smile.
“Morning Priestess,” he said, stopping with a thumb beneath his pack’s strap.
“Good morning Imdi,” she replied. “I see you’ve made it past the gates unscathed.” The boy tossed his head, glancing back over one shoulder.
“Yeah…” he mumbled, perhaps looking for a friend in their number. Imdi was no longer the main target of any bullying or harassment as far as she could tell, but many still did not trust him. He’s still the strange boy from the forest, after all.
“How’s your father doing?” she asked. The boy nodded casually.
“Much better,” he said. “Back to his usual self.” He bent awkwardly as he rummaged through his pack, keeping his back to her, eventually retrieving a copy of The Fettered Path. “Finished this one,” he said, offering it to her. Rylett almost groaned as she saw where the green cover had been splashed by mud, the jacket torn.
“Again?” she sighed. Imdi shrugged, keeping his lips tight. Rylett frowned, opening the book to the note scrawled on a scrap piece of paper within.
Sorry about the cover, but I found it so boring I wanted to throw it in the lake.
“At least there’re no claw marks on this one,” Rylett muttered under her breath, snapping the book shut. She needs something more engaging then… Some more mature fiction perhaps? Perhaps something with morals? “At least I needn’t tell you to be more careful,” she said, holding the book in two paws behind her back.
“You needn’t,” he replied.
A shining silver hovercar thwopped down before the gate, a magenta banded seal embossed on the passenger door. As the craft settled some of the throng waved to the driver, many parents wearing befuddled or bemused expressions.
“I guess she’s here,” Imdi muttered. Rylett nodded solemnly.
The door swung up, the nauret within shaking her furry, long head. Rylett had known more aliens than most people in Bendara, but even she had to admit naurets were a little odd looking. They had the overall shape of a vyrryn, save the hind legs which were slightly shorter than the arms. The result was that the back sloped slightly, a good quarter of their height coming from the neck. A nauret’s head had a pronounced muzzle, the head long and tall. The eyes were placed wider than in radji, although that was hardly unusual among herbivores. There was a crude joke on some distant confederacy worlds about how radji had learned to always look forward, lest they be pricked in the eye.
Irimya stepped out on slender legs, shaking her honey-coloured mane as she trotted primly down the short ramp. There was no family in the hovercar Rylett noted, merely a radji entourage. Oblivious or enthralled, a sizeable number of students moved up to greet her. Rylett, for the fourth week in a row, found herself watching a carefully organised performance. The alien smiled and greeted each in turn with a delicate bow, her head turning this way and that to keep those about her always in sight. The girl was the daughter of a recently arrived diplomat, a prominent figure in the nauret Great Houses. There was talk that the corporate dynasty was negotiating with the radji government to adopt Bendara industries into their trade conglomerate. The pair’s arrival had been something of a bombshell, the media even arriving in force to get comment on the alien visitor. Today the reporters had apparently found warmer burrows, but that did not stop Irimya from playing her part.
The girl, by herself, was supposedly an exemplary student. Cordial, attentive, and unassuming, even if her sharp tongue caught many off-guard. In most cases she was the first alien many children had ever known. It was natural then that she had garnered something of a fan-base; to deal with Irimya was to deal with legion.
Whilst many of the outer crowd would come and go, a half-dozen or so had formed a tight knit group, with Irimya at the centre. There were the twin girls, the ruddy-blonde Nyrra and Lollyn. Nyrra was quick witted, but alas only used that wit to find glib remarks. Lollyn did well enough in school but had the habit of being rather blunt, her sister often getting the better of her. The two appeared to have found a common ground through the alien. Urèd, a big northern lad, had hardly spoken a word of kejdar when he had arrived and still spoke with a soft, lilted tongue. Irimya however had taken the time to speak to him, even turning off her translator so that he might help her with her own kejdar skills.
The other was the talkative boy Roklin. He had clearly taken to the nauret, who patiently answered every one of his many questions. Several other teachers had complained about him, saying that he was an inattentive, easily distracted pupil. Rylett thought he was actually quite focussed, almost to the point of being obsessive. It was a pity that he did not find any interest in the curriculum, and that his attention passed from topic to topic.
A few more students were starting to make their way into the school. The dark boy with the twisted snout —Erryt she recalled— paused as he passed.
“Watching the show?” he asked Imdi, his smirk snaking further than it should. His disfigurement had not lessened with age, but Rylett took some comfort in the fact that he did not smile any less than anyone else. Imdi rolled his eyes, playfully knuckling his friend’s shoulder. “You wish.”
“So, uh…” Erryt coughed.
“Yeah yeah,” Imdi said quickly. “C’mon, let’s get inside.” The pair faltered a step as they turned for the door.
“Oh, pardon me champion,” Erryt said. Rylett glanced back, finding that Champion Oryn was standing there. It was something of a surprise; she had not seen him since Callio’s burial. The brindle-coloured man stood to one side as they carefully squeezed past him, the two boys moving perhaps a little too quickly.
“Hm,” the fellow champion murmured, also watching them go. He turned to her with a light smile. “The regular troublemakers?”
“On occasion,” she said smoothly. “What brings you here Oryn?”
“High-Priest Irt summoned me,” he said easily. “Purely in an advisory capacity.” He gestured with one paw, the other behind his back. “Might I join you at post?”
“Of course,” she said. He smiled warmly, leaning with crossed arms against the other side of the arch. He looked around at the lingering students, Rylett taking the moment to scrutinise him. Oryn was perhaps only a little younger that she was, of a lean, svelte build. His face was not hard to look upon, with calm, attentive eyes, and a pointed tuft of dark hair at the end of his chin. Still, Rylett had found that the champion was a reserved, guarded man, and she had the singular impression that he kept much of what he thought to himself.
“A pleasant day,” he murmured, glancing back at her.
“Better than some in previous years,” she agreed. He nodded to the battered book in her paws.
“I thought you were a biblian?” he said with a raised brow. A light smile played across her lips as she rolled her eyes.
“Student loan.”
“Hm. I dread to think of the state of your library.”
Irimya’s laugh echoed across the courtyard, drawing his attention. The sound had the habit of being echoed by her gaggling followers, a whickering, braying noise that seemed too heartfelt to be mockery.
“That must be the nauret,” Oryn said. “I’d heard she’d had an explosion of popularity.”
“If only it were a little more literal,” Rylett japed, making Oryn laugh.
“Not exactly in step with our tenets,” he reminded her.
“Yes,” she replied, a little exasperated. “You’re quite right.” She frowned at the comment. She’s a child, and that was unbecoming of a Priestess. Perhaps her conversation with Damar, the girl’s mother, had miscoloured her judgement. The brief interaction on Irimya’s first day —in that very spot— had been… brusque. Where Irimya was spindly her mother had been a heavy-set russet colossus, tall enough to look Juran in the eye. Whilst the girl whinnied and bayed easily, Damar spoke with a thick, rolling voice, each word carefully dropped like a brick onto her target’s head.
“You are a ‘Protector,’ yes?” the immense alien had rumbled.
“A champion of the Protector,” she had replied, “not the goddess herself.” Damar had chuckled, the sound like an electric motor whining.
“Well, champion, I trust you to do your duty.” With that she had sauntered away, leaving Rylett to ponder if she had just been insulted. She was pulled from her thoughts to see that Irimya and her entourage were at last coming to class. The nauret’s coat was a dappled white and dun colour that shook as the girl approached, flocked by her entourage. Nyrra and Lollyn plodded ahead of her like a pair of miniature centurions, the smaller sized Roklin looking like a child beside the ponderous Urèd a step behind her. Rylett was reminded of the way courtiers had followed history’s forgotten rulers.
“Good morning,” Irimya said sweetly. “You’ve found some help guarding the door today.” A quiet snicker passed between the twins. Rylett smiled as though she had not noticed the jab.
“Irimya, this is Oryn,” she said instead. “A champion, like me.”
“You must be Damar’s daughter,” Oryn said with a smile.
“My,” she laughed, “what gave it away? The spots?“
“I was going to say your reputation,” he replied quickly. The girl whinnied lightly.
“H-hey,” one of the twins scoffed, “you can’t talk to her like that!” Irimya shook out her mane.
“Oh, come now Lollyn,” she almost sighed, “it’s just harmless chitchat.” She nodded to Rylett. “I have been reading on your order, a most noble garrison.” She bowed deeply, one forefoot curled up with the other outstretched. It was strangely elegant for such a gangly creature. “Well met, champions. You honour us.”
“We do our duty,” Oryn said simply. “Nothing more.” Something danced across her alien eyes as she rose.
“Of course,” she said. The flow from the gates was starting to ebb, the last few students arriving. One last hovercraft touched down in the space the prior had departed, the blue sky wheeling across its viewport. An older, walnut-coloured boy almost fell out, hastily shouldering his pack. The lad came running over, Irimya stomping as she turned.
“My, we’re running a little late aren’t we?” Nyrra announced elbowing her sister, drawing snickers from the gallery. The walnut-coloured boy eyed them all carefully for a moment, giving the nauret a respectful berth as he sidled up to Rylett.
“S-sorry,” he said, swallowing. “Am I late for class?”
“Not at all,” the Priestess said with a smile. “Are you one of Harbeck’s students?” He laughed awkwardly at her, the throaty giggle tickling something in her mind.
“I’m only gone for a year, and you’ve forgotten me!” She peered at him. Now that she looked at him she saw the lines of his face, the placement of his eyes. The air escaped her.
“Yotun?! Oh-!” She embraced him at once, the two laughing. Gone was the gaunt child, always so deathly thin. He was still scrawny and lithe, and no doubt he would never be as tall as he could have been, but that was unimportant. There was a light in his eyes that was absent before, an easiness to his smile. He looked fuller in more than flesh; a boy balanced on the edge of manhood.
“Yotun!” she chortled as she pulled back. “Goodness, what’ve you been eating?!”
“Indeed,” Oryn said, permitting a smile. “You look well, son.” A few of the lingering throng were eyeing them strangely, although the nauret merely looked curious.
“Yotun…” Urèd murmured, frowning down at Roklin. “Who’s this?”
“Old friend,” he said quietly. Yotun smiled at him, the other boy just lifting his chin.
“Yotun’s been on holiday for a short while,” Rylett said, patting his shoulder. “But we’re grateful to have him back.”
“Running late,” Urèd prompted Irimya in his deep baritone. “Get going?”
“Yes, let’s,” she nickered, looking once more over the newcomer before leading the others indoors.
“Go easy on Priest Harbeck,” Rylett called after her. The poor man would develop a heart condition at this rate.
“I guess things have changed around here,” Yotun laughed.
“They always do,” Rylett said wryly. One last look around the courtyard told her that they were the last. “How was Caiyu?” she asked as they ducked inside.
“Beautiful,” Yotun said as he kicked the dirt from his feet. “You must have been trained there.”
“It’s been many years,” she admitted wistfully. The City on the Hill… “Is the Protectorate still standing?”
“Last time I checked,” Oryn said with a laugh. The monolith of solid stone stood over the city, The Protector herself with her sword cast high, almost tipping over the edge of the mesa. Its shadow was so long that it was midday before sunlight touched the market’s stalls. “Well, I’m sure you’ll manage from here,” the other champion said, nodding to her. He placed a paw on Yotun’s shoulder. “Remember what we discussed. Try and enjoy your first day back.”
“I will,” the boy replied with a friendly smile.
“Good-good,” the man said, rising up. He nodded to Rylett once more, then retreated toward the main hall. The priestess watched him go for a moment, curious.
“You both seem to be getting on well,” she commented, turning for their classroom.
“We bumped into him on the way out to Caiyu and decided to stay in touch,” he explained as they walked. “We spoke a few times whilst we were there.”
“My,” she chuckled, “I have competition, hm?”
“Not a chance, you’re the best!” Rylett smiled.
“I’m proud of you, all of you. It was a big thing for your parents to take so much time off.”
“It was difficult,” he admitted as they turned down an adjacent corridor. “Dad had to hire some help for the property whilst we were away.”
“And… have you been sleeping better? No more nightmares?”
“Seems like it,” he said as he pulled out his old bound notebook as they walked, flipping through sketches and notes. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve written any down in… wow, a few months.” The priestess shook her head as they stopped by the door. Whilst she could hear the children nattering within, she simply could not resist.
“Hold still,” she told him. “You’ve got something on your face.”
“What?” he said. She gently grabbed his chin, turning it to one side.
“I think it’s… no that can’t be right… is that a smile?” The boy snickered, abashedly pushing her paw away and rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, sure,” he mumbled, making Rylett titter.
“Welcome back, Yotun.”
~*~
“The tattered prince,” Lyra recited carefully, “having returned the petals to the lake went to find the woman from the church. But when he neared the village he found that there was smoke on the horizon, and the doorman had abandoned his post.” The young girl screwed up her nose as she read the book before her. Rylett’s eyes drifted around the other students on the central mat. Several were studying the upholstery, Erryt and Yotun even speaking in low tones to one another. Roklin sighed softly with his paw under his chin, looking longingly toward the door. A quick glance at the timepiece confirmed that the lunchbreak was almost upon them.
“–the church was aflame,” Lyra was saying, “the woman covered in soot on the steps.” Rylett cleared her throat.
“Since you’re speaking anyway Erryt why don’t you finish us off, hm?” The boy looked up, sheepishly flicking through the pages.
“Uh…” he mumbled. “S-she opened her eyes as he knelt beside her. ‘They’re gone,’ she wheezed, ‘they’ve taken Isha with them.’ She reached out blindly, gripping the prince’s arm. ‘Find your brother. Find him… Promise me you’ll take care of him.’ The ash settled over her still face.” He looked up having finished the page.
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“Very well, that will suffice for this morning,” Rylett said, closing her own copy of The Fettered Path. She gestured for them all to stand. “We’ve made good time today, so I’ll trust you with an early minute. Go on!” The group quickly bagged up their things, laughing and chattering to one another. “And remember you should have started on ideas for your harvest costumes!” she announced, resulting in a few awkward groans, a few excited murmurs. The class darted out into the hall, Erryt and Yotun among them. Rylett took a moment to stretch, moving to her window to look out on the bright and sunny day. The approaching perigee arrived amid spring, stretching out the mild and comfortable conditions. Such an occurrence was rare, bringing with it a bounty not seen for twenty years, and such a moment was prepared for and celebrated.
There was a knock at her door. She turned to find High-Priest Irt standing in the doorway.
“Busy?” he asked.
“Not at all.” He tossed his head toward the door, smiling.
“Walk with me.”
More students were spilling out into the courtyard for their break, all trying to soak up the sun. Some headed for the climbing frames, others for the digging pits. Some loitered together, others sat by themselves. The air tasted crisp, and Rylett felt far better to be above ground again.
“Lovely day,” Irt commented, his walking stick tapping as they walked.
“It is,” she replied, gesturing to some young children at play. “Makes me wish for my own climbing frame.”
“An adult climbing frame is a little outside of our budget,” he guffawed, pink eyes blinking at the light. “But I share your sentiment. I swear I was so young, once upon a time.” He shook his white head, the pair following the shade of redan trees that lined the school’s fences. “I hear Yotun is back,” he said, changing the topic. “How’d he seem to you?”
“It’s remarkable,” she admitted. “It’s the first time I’ve seen him so enthusiastic and… well, happy. I commend Oryn for his work with them.”
“Oryn?”
“Oh,” she muttered, “they happened into each other in Caiyu. Must have made an impact.”
“If so he wasn’t the only one.”
“I only played my part,” Rylett said simply. Irt snorted.
“Rylett, it’s high time you realised you do far more than your fair share. I admit you’re a far better teacher than I ever was.”
“Oh, that’s nonsense,” she said with a shake of her head. “I knew nothing of priesthood when I came here, less of teaching.”
“And yet you get on well with almost every student, are generous with both your scant time and your honest praise. Your students are regularly among the best in the school. You have even passed the Protectors trials, something I never accomplished.” Rylett felt herself cringing from the acclaim, saying nothing. Irt stopped and leaned heavily on his cane, tilting his head as her. “Something few do. Dare I ask? Why? What drove you not just to attempt it, but to persevere?” Rylett and Praetor lie on an unfurled blanket amongst a meadow of purple grass, an alien sky above. Carcos is tired from a day of play, and they watch as he tumbles over himself downhill. She promises that she will be there to catch him next time. She blinked, and Irt was before her again.
“It was… necessary,” she said, so soft he might scarcely have heard it. Irt pursed his lips, nodding down at his feet. There is a prolonged, pregnant pause.
“I intend to retire at the end of the year,” he said. Rylett blinked at him.
“Retire?!” she found herself saying. “Whatever for?”
“Oh, come now Rylett,” he chuckled. “I’m an old man.” He gave her a shrewd but playful look. “I’ve thought about this for a long time, and I think I’ve earned some rest. Give someone else a fair shake at this place.”
“O-of course,” she stammered, joining the seam in her mind. “That’s why Oryn is here, isn’t he? You’ve offered him your position.”
“He has duty elsewhere,” Irt said miserly, as though deciding on a purchase. “And whilst he’s experienced, he doesn’t know this school. No, I was thinking of someone… more familiar.” He looked at her pointedly. Rylett felt her jaw drop.
“I-I…” she stammered. “W-well I’m flattered… but Harbeck is the better choice. He’s been here longer and has an executive mind–“ Irt waved a paw.
“Another old man, past his prime. And as you so well observed, he’d see this school as a business.” He sighed heavily. “We are the guardians of the next generation. Not just in body but in mind. We shape them. But this… this duty… it isn’t what it used to be. We need our best at the helm, and frankly, that isn’t Harbeck.” Rylett scoffed, not believing her ears. I’m really no one important.
“I-I couldn’t… well I mean… it would take away from my time with the students…”
“Give it some thought,” he said. “We’ve got time. But think about how many you could help at once, hm?” Rylett nodded, feeling winded.
“It’s…” She coughed out an awkward laugh. “It’s just so difficult to imagine this school without you.” Irt smiled at his cane.
“Part of the woodwork, eh?”
“Something like that,” she said with a smile. “What would you do?” Irt stuck out his lip, tipping his head as though thinking about it for the first time.
“Dorra and I used to have a little cottage the other side of Yuret. We’d walk the beach, see what the tide would turn up. She always talked of buying a little boat, following the coastline up as far as we could. I’d… like to actually… do that.” Rylett nodded, ignoring the welling in her chest.
“She would have liked that,” she managed. Irt just nodded slowly, his pink eyes flicking up at her.
“Miss! Miss Champion!” a breathless voice called out, nearly startling her. Rylett turned to see Erryt running toward her, the dark boy bending double as he reached them. “Th-there’s a… fight! The twins… are picking on Imdi!” Rylett groaned.
“Where?” she asked quickly moving back toward the school.
“Around… the back,” Erryt panted. “Near the loaves!”
“Never a dull moment,” Irt muttered under his breath, starting to follow them at his slow pace. They crossed the yard quickly, Irt not bothering to try and keep up.
“What happened?” she asked Erryt as they followed the long straight side of the school building.
“W-we were just talking when the nauret showed up with her gang,” he explained. “They… they didn’t like what had happened at the gate earlier or something. Th-then one of the goons started… well she grabbed for Imdi’s bag! That’s when I came for you.”
“’Goons?’” she asked as they neared the wall’s end.
“One of the twins.” A small figure darted around the corner at the same moment, almost colliding with her. Roklin looked up at her desperately.
“C-come quick!” he squeaked. “Imdi brought a predator, h-he’s hiding it in his pack!”
“What?!” Irt barked breathlessly as he arrived behind them. Monster, she knew at once. That silly little vexise kitten.
“’Just chatting,’” Rylett muttered out of the corner of her mouth, Erryt cringing beside her. She rounded the corner and set off at a run, the dark boy close at her heels.
The storage barrows were a trio of long simple structures with straight brown brick walls and rounded, arching tops. This gave them a vague similarity in shape to a loaf of bread and had hence been dubbed ‘the loaves’ by some enterprising young student. They sat on the opposite side of a wide patch of lush, trimmed grass, but even from this distance she could make out a large gathering before them. As Rylett drew closer she could see there were dozens of students encircling a few others, far too many in too small a space. They were all watching intently, their ardent, chattering voices travelling to her.
“Get it quick!”
“What’s happening?”
“A bloody predator!” Worry began to sink its claws into her chest. I’m nearly there!
“Back off!” came a boy’s shout from within the circle.
“Give it here!” another replied, clearly one of the twins.
“Freaks!”
“H-hey, stop it!” Irimya’s loud, lyrical voice could be heard over the rest. “Th-this isn’t–”
“Go on, get it!”
“No!” Erryt gasped beside her, running forward, and pushing through the crowd. He made it partway in when he was physically stopped by Urèd. The big lad held onto him tight, panic and confusion in his own eyes. This is getting out of hand!
“Make way!” Rylett called out, pushing forward herself. “Everyone move back!”
The mob parted in time for Rylett to see several students struggling. Irimya stood nearest the encircling crowd, stamping at the ground, the whites of her eyes visible in her distress. One of the twins —Lollyn she thought— was aimlessly dragging Imdi by one wrist, his quills digging into the grass as he desperately tried to resist her. In his arms Imdi sheltered the kitten defensively. The little predator was hissing with his long ears pressed back, his eyes raging pulsars in green jewels. The twin grappling with Yotun must have been Nyrra, the two yelling at one another to stop.
Before the champion could even speak, in the span of mere seconds, several things happened at once.
Nyrra grabbed and yanked on Yotun’s pack, the strap snapping and spilling his books out onto the ground. Tiring of Imdi’s resistance, Lollyn reached back for Monster. Instinctively, Yotun struck Nyrra across the face, making her fall flat on her rear, clutching her snout. Lollyn shrieked, recoiling with a shocked expression as she cradled her paw. Monster, seizing the opportunity, sprang from Imdi’s grip, running for the wall of legs. Several people retreated and screamed as he darted amongst the panicking students. In moments the area became pandemonium. People scattered in every which way, some running down back between the barrows, a few heading for the fence-line. Several tripped and stumbled. Urèd pulled the still struggling Erryt through the living tide, both sheltering themselves against the brickwork of the nearest wall. Close by, someone fell backward, gasping at the flash of orange passing by their feet. Rylett darted, snatching for it. She narrowly avoided colliding with a small boy, grabbing hold of him with one paw, seizing the vexise’s tail with the other.
“Calm!” she cried out, standing and fighting the momentary pang of flight. “Everyone stay calm!” The boy at her legs was whimpering at the animal. She took a moment to try and appease him, holding a furious Monster as far away as she could. Freeing herself from the lad and promising she would come back, the priestess looked around at the scene. Most students had fled across the grass, several still running. Here and there the misfortunate few who had been caught in the crush were trying to collect themselves. There were many grass-stained knees and elbows, children calling out to one another. She saw that Oryn had apparently arrived and was helping up a teary young girl. The lass was limping, so the champion picked her up. Rylett turned on the instigators of this debacle, all in varying states of shock.
“What in Kay-ut are you all doing?!” she snapped at them, ignoring the spitting, swiping creature she was dangling like a lantern. Erryt and Urèd detached themselves from the wall, moving to help their friends.
“I-it b-bit me!” Lollyn gibbered as the foreigner knelt beside her. “I-I’m bleeding!”
“You tried to grab him, of course he bloody bit you!” Imdi retorted, Erryt helping him to his feet. Of the lot he seemed the most collected. Nyrra pulled her paws away from her muzzle, a tide of blue streaming down into her lap.
“My nothe!” she cried, pointing at Yotun with a shaky claw. “Y-you bwoke my nothe!” The boy, still standing, blinked and looked down at the blood on his knuckles.
“Tip your head back, I’ll be a moment dear,” Rylett huffed. “Imdi!” she barked, no longer in the mood for pleasantries. “Your pack, now!” He hastily brought it to her, a look of shame on his caramel face.
“I-I di-dn’t mean–”
“Not a word.” Rylett hastily placed the animal into the pack, shutting it quickly. Glancing up she saw that Irt had arrived with Roklin at his side. The pair looked around in disbelief. Rylett put her paw on Imdi’s shoulder. “You will help right this. Go with the High-Priest to get the nurses, then straight back here, am I clear?” The boy nodded hastily with a crinkled snout. Rylett turned to see that only the nauret had stayed nearby, wavering this way and that. The girl’s spindly legs were nearly knocking together, she looked just about ready to bolt. “Irimya, go with them.”
“Wh-what?!” she whinnied lowering her head as if to charge at Imdi. “Why would I go with a–?!”
“You need to see a nurse,” Irt said slowly. “C’mon lass.” Hesitantly, the nauret wobbled toward them, the headmaster putting a reassuring paw on her sloping flank.
“What… what about them?” Irimya asked, looking over to where Yotun and the twins still sat.
“We’ll take care of them,” Rylett said soothingly, ignoring how the predator squirmed in the bag she put over her shoulder. Irt glanced at her, the look in his eyes not one she had seen for many years. It was one she had seen in her own tutors more than once. She swallowed as the High-Priest led them away, taking stock of the others.
Lollyn was crying, mumbling something incoherent, Urèd trying to calm her. Nyrra had tipped her head back, looking darkly toward Yotun who only wore a blank, distant expression. Rylett moved for her first. Yotun sat against the barrow’s brick wall as they all moved around him.
“Some pwotector you arr…” Nyrra huffed. Rylett ground her teeth, finding herself in agreement.
~*~
“Absolutely not!” Rylett said forcefully, leaning her palms against the headmaster’s desk. Irt’s office was buried almost as deep as the main hall, the room dim, cool, and musty. The varnished wooden desk was so preposterously large that one wondered how they managed to get it through the door. His computer contrasted the stacks of ancient crumbling papers tied up and bound in one corner that could only be old religious texts. Oryn leaned casually against a dusty bookshelf, the twist of his lip suggesting he wished he was somewhere else.
“Well what else would we do with it?” the other champion sighed. “A predator attacked someone.” Irt was sitting across from them, rubbing at his pink eyes with forefinger and thumb.
“The twins are insistent that Imdi set the predator on them,” he said ponderously.
“There was no ‘setting’ of anything,” she replied. “Imdi was excited to see his friend again and wanted to introduce the kitten to him. There was no malevolence, no predation.”
“The girl was bitten,” Oryn said diplomatically.
“Only because Lollyn tried to snatch the damn thing.”
“That was foolish of her I grant you,” Irt intoned, “but the point is moot.” Oryn rubbed his face.
“We’re lucky it didn’t bite the nauret,” he sighed, leaning against the desk. “We wouldn’t want a diplomatic incident.”
“Lucky?” she scoffed. “Nothing lucky happened today. And at least give Irimya the dignity of her name.” Oryn turned to Irt.
“Will the animal be destroyed?” he asked directly. The old man shook his head.
“It’s technically government property, we don’t have a right to it. Besides, even if the parents asked for it I don’t think that’d prove fruitful. The animal was just doing as it would. Imdi should have known better than to bring it onto school grounds, and Lollyn and the rest were clearly picking on them. The bigger problem is Yotun.”
“This is not the first time the boy has had an altercation on school grounds, is it?” Oryn asked. Rylett crossed her arms, leaning against Irt’s desk.
“Verbal altercations,” she muttered. “It’s decidedly out of character for him to strike someone.” Irt and Oryn shared a glance.
“There is… a concern,” the High-Priest said slowly, ”that he might not have fully recovered from the incident in the Brackwood.”
“Of course he hasn’t,” she said. “We were all present at Callio’s burial. We all saw how broken he was by it.”
“But to attack another student–” Oryn began.
“He didn’t attack Nyrra,” she interjected. “He panicked. He was defending himself.” The man stroked his pointed chin, his dark eyes burrowing into her own.
“Do you think it’s possible you’ve fallen victim to favouritism?”
“Favouritism?!” she scoffed.
“Your own son would have been about Yotun’s age by now, wouldn’t he?” Sparks popped at the edge of her vision, the memory of vacuum suffocating all sound. Irt winced behind his desk. He dares?! She had heard such nonsense during her application to the faith, as though purity of experience was required for piety. To look into my personal history…
“Oryn…” It was all she could do to keep a snarl from her voice. “You are digging… far too deep…”
“I… You’re right,” he said quietly, ducking his head respectfully. “I apologise. You were the first one there, I defer to your judgement.” Irt looked rather uncomfortable, rubbing at his brow.
“I think what Oryn means to say is that you’ve expressed a great deal of interest in the boy– in both boys. Surely,” he continued smoothly, “in your own professional opinion, there are signs.” Rylett resisted the urge to chew up his words and spit them back out.
“Signs?” she managed. Irt pursed his lips, looking at her carefully. Plucking up his walking stick, he leaned across to the neighbouring wall, tapping against it. His secretary promptly opened the door.
“I think it best if you had an early break Thufir,” he said dryly. The man nodded, closing the door politely behind him. Irt waited until they heard the adjoining door creak shut.
“Goddess,” he muttered looking old and tired. “I hate politics. Sit down, Rylett.”
“I prefer to stand,” she said swiftly.
“As you will,” he sighed. “It… has been clear from his academic record that Yotun is struggling with some kind of psychological issue. Your own notes suggested a familial element.” He ignored the scandalised expression Rylett no doubt wore; her student-teacher notes were supposed to be confidential. “Following the loss of Callio, and the resulting interviews, the judiciary thought it best to monitor Yotun for any… adverse symptoms.”
“Monitor…” Rylett felt her gaze shift to the other champion. “Irt didn’t summon you,” she breathed, “the judiciary did.”
“Actually,” Oryn said, “it was the Bendara Council.”
“Th-the Council?” she stammered. “W-well why didn’t they ask for me, I know the boy personally.” Oryn shifted uncomfortably, sliding into one of the two chairs.
“I don’t know,” he said simply, his expression closed. “They hardly told me anything. I suspect if I hadn’t entombed the girl they–” His snout wrinkled for a moment, the man biting his tongue. “Ki-yu take them,” he said bitterly. Rylett rolled her shoulders to free the tightness in her back; the curse sat less comfortably in her mind than in yesteryears. So much secrecy, she reflected, so little actually said. Rylett found herself recalling her visit to Teraka’s estate. A window had been shattered, the shards cast across the kitchen floor. Bookshelves had been toppled, the couch cushions ripped open to leave their innards strewn across the carpets. Even the pantry’s shelves had been pulled out, as though something had been hidden in the fruit and pastries. In the moment she had thought it the actions of a maddened and grieving man, but the longer she left it, she could only draw one conclusion: someone had been looking for something.
“You have to remember,” Irt was saying, “these were unusual circumstances. An immense predator, larger than any known in several hundred years, killed a girl and savaged two others. They probably just wanted an outsider’s opinion.” Rylett relented, sitting down in the seat.
“Is… is this why they left the city for so long?” she asked, rubbing the sides of her snout. Oryn nodded.
“His family are major producers,” he said. “Locally, globally, and to the outlying colonies.”
“It would no doubt hurt Bendara economically if that family’s business imploded,” the old man said dryly. “So the Council concluded that couldn’t happen. Hence the offer of some time away, an opportunity to remake, rediscover themselves.”
“Politics,” Rylett almost scoffed. Irt tossed his fuzzy brow in begrudging agreement.
“And it seemed to be working,” Oryn said solemnly. “This was the final test, to see if he could integrate back into school without any issues for his final year. He has failed that test on his first day.”
“T-test?!” she gasped incredulously. “This wasn’t a test! It was hardly even an experiment!” She found her voice rising. “The boy has survived a great deal of trauma! To find him suspect for his scars is to take his hide with his quills!”
“I heartily agree,” Irt retorted. “But this was at the explicit directive of the Bendara Council themselves! Any antisocial behaviour is to be treated as adverse and is deemed justification for an official disease screening. They have my claws here.” Rylett swallowed in a dry mouth.
“I think we all know,” she said carefully, “that such a diagnosis, valid or otherwise, would not be in his best interest. The stigma of testing alone would isolate him even further, regardless of the outcome.”
“I… am inclined to agree,” Oryn said slowly. “Whilst Yotun clearly still harbours some… strange inclinations, he wasn’t the instigator in that encounter. Imdi was.”
“Indeed,” Irt sighed. “Lollyn and Nyrra will be reprimanded in school. A semester of cleaning duties should suffice. Imdi will face two weeks suspension and a formal complaint on his record. The animal will go home with him tomorrow. If he brings another predator into the city he’ll be expelled.” Rylett took a moment to steady herself. Well… that’s somewhat better than I’d feared.
“And Yotun?” she asked. Irt looked at her, exasperated.
“What would you have me do, Rylett? Lie? What for?” She sighed breathlessly. They were both looking at her expectantly.
“Look,” she began, ”you were right when you said we’re more than guardians. If we do shape these children, who else is to blame for their shortcomings?” Irt squinted at her.
“What’re you saying?”
“I’m saying we still have a duty to them, that we don’t give up on them just because they stumble.” She looked the other champion in the eye. “The third tenet…”
“Protect the innocent,” Oryn said at once.
“And the fourth is to resolve our wrongs and respect our mistakes, because… we need them to grow.” She stood, pacing to find her words. “Your task was to determine if he could successfully integrate back into the school, and Kay-ut knows students face adversity in school. But we–“ she gestured between Oryn and herself, “–are not protectors, we’re champions. We aren’t just a shield, we’re tutors and guides. We pick them up and set them back on the path.” She leaned on the back of her chair. “If no one was given the grace to fail then no one would ever succeed!” Oryn stroked the tuft of fur on his chin as he considered her words.
“One day…” he said slowly, “…might be too quick to cast judgement. The verdict doesn’t have to come until the end of the year.” He looked long and hard at her. “Monitor him until then. If he’s any risk to anyone, he’ll soon make it known.” Irt rapped his claws on the desk.
“I will be forced to include this incident in my decision,” he breathed. “It may damn him anyway.”
“He should at least be given the chance,” Rylett said softly. Irt shook his head.
“Fine!” he said at last, tossing up a paw.
“Thank you,” she said, half a whisper.
“I hope you’re both right. But let me be perfectly clear: if he sticks a claw over any line he’ll be next off to screening. I’ll sign the bloody thing myself!”
The two champions left together, both deep in thought.
“Which one will you speak to?” Oryn said as they stepped into the hall.
“Yotun,” she decided. I’ll have to find time to talk to Imdi before he leaves. Braq and Turin must learn of this. “Thank you,” she added, looking up at the brindle-coloured man. “For taking my side in there.”
“I pray it is the right decision,” he yawned. “It’s grown late, I’ll talk to Imdi before he leaves in the morning.” He shook his head. “As you say, Yotun has not had an easy life, none of which is his own fault. But we should remember our duty to the other children as well.”
“The other children?” she prompted, not quite taking his meaning.
“I was… too blunt before. It was… unnecessary. All I meant was that… Irimya and her friends… this wasn’t about that predator. Perhaps you should reflect on the first tenet; do what you must, no matter how difficult.” She felt her gaze linger on his back as he turned away.
“’Do what you can…’” she recited under her breath, something prickling her quills.
Her feet quickly carried her to the boy’s dormitories. At this time of night no one was awake in the halls save the custodian. It did not take her long to find Yotun’s room. She glanced into the opposite chamber as she passed, finding four more boys on the floor than there should have been. They were all asleep; there was no good in waking them now, so left them. She cautiously peered into Yotun’s dormitory.
Yotun sat on his bed, his face hidden in shadow against the back wall. The rest of the bunks were empty. He shifted as she entered, a paw moving into shade.
“Is everyone okay?” he asked hoarsely.
“Nyrra will be fine,” she said, stepping slowly into the room. “Lollyn was convinced she would lose her arm.” The boy did not laugh or chuckle. “A few scrapes in the yard,” she continued. “Nothing serious beyond a twisted ankle.”
“What about Imdi?” he croaked. “W-will they kill Monster?”
“No,” she sighed. “Although Imdi will have to be penalised of course. But… I’m here to see you.” Yotun moved forward, putting his feet over the edge of the bed. His eyes raw and tear-touched.
“They… want to test me don’t they?” he asked flatly. Rylett put her paws together, looking around helplessly. “I’m sorry… I… didn’t… I don’t know what happened,” he said weakly. “What did I do?”
She moved to his side, sitting down and putting a comforting arm around him.
“We all make mistakes, Yotun.” Rylett sat there, and just let him cry.
---
“Since childhood, I’ve been faithful to monsters. I have been saved and absolved by them, because monsters, I believe, are patron saints of our blissful imperfection, and they allow and embody the possibility of failing.”
– Guillermo del Toro.