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The Warrior
Chapter 113

Chapter 113

Indenuel was working on writing a letter to Matteo, trying to do his best to get his thoughts across. Martin assured him he and the girls were coming for Sabbath, but he still hadn’t heard from Matteo, and he wanted to start patching this relationship as soon as possible.

It had been a few days since the incident in the carriage. Indenuel requested Martin to come to his home to train instead, and he agreed without any questions. Indenuel pushed himself every time, getting his healing stronger.

Martin had just left, and Indenuel finished his letter, pushing it to one side before rubbing his own temples, giving a sigh.

“Everything alright?” Tolomon asked. Indenuel nodded, barely smiling before leaning back in his chair. “Aren’t we passed lying to each other?”

Indenuel sighed again. “Just doing what I need to. Trying to get better.”

Tolomon’s nod was absent. “Want some advice?”

Indenuel looked up at the man who had probably seen more hellish sights than he ever could. “Yeah.”

Tolomon moved from his post by the door and sat down in the chair opposite his desk. “You’ve got to get out of the house.”

Indenuel’s face fell a little. “I know.”

“Go do something. Something you enjoy. Whatever it is. As long as it’s legal. You’ve moved from your room to your study back to the room, eating whenever and whatever Pablo brings to you. I know it’s scary, but even a walk around the gardens will get some sun on your face. You can’t focus completely on fulfilling the prophecy, or it will eat you away.”

Indenuel nodded, knowing Tolomon was right, but unsure how to do it. He was scared to go outside. He was afraid he’d panic again. But maybe a walk around the garden would be good. “What do you do to distract yourself with? You’re always with me. Doesn’t it get exhausting protecting me all the time?”

Tolomon shrugged. “My fights at the training ground have become that for me. A good balance of practicing my skill but knowing I’m not in any real danger. It’s become a release.”

“Oh. Do you need to-”

“No,” Tolomon said with a smile. “We can wait until next week. I’m fine.”

Indenuel nodded as Pablo knocked on the door. “Come in,” Indenuel said. It was too early for lunch, so it must be some sort of news. “Maybe I will take a walk in the gardens later. I used to take walks early in the morning, but too many people recognize me.”

“Just cause you look too nice. I’m sure if you grunge up a bit you’d be almost-” Tolomon froze, then turned to look at Pablo, a frown on his face.

Pablo stood beside Tolomon with a letter extended toward him. “For you, sir.”

Tolomon’s frown deepened, then stared at the letter. He sat up straighter, staring at the letter like it would burst into flame if he touched it. “Did they say who it’s from?”

“No, sir. It came by post. Whoever sent it didn’t say who they were,” Pablo said.

Tolomon stared at the letter, practically forcing it to reveal its secrets by the look he gave it. Slowly, as though taking a full glass of wine, he touched the ends of the envelope with his fingertips.

“Don’t you get letters by post?” Indenuel asked.

“Not without being warned beforehand.” Tolomon sniffed around the edges, his frown deepening further. Pablo, who had delivered his letter, walked back out of the study. Indenuel watched as Tolomon began to examine it, carefully at first, then more elaborate tests.

“Do you even have enemies alive enough to send you something?” Indenuel asked.

“Not that I recall, but you can never be too careful,” Tolomon said as he touched the envelope with his fingertips and made the envelope bounce against them, listening for something. Indenuel watched, mostly in interest, as Tolomon slid his finger against the waxy envelope seal to break it open. He carefully pulled out the paper, sniffing it again before unfolding it slowly.

He paused, staring at it before he gave a gasp. Almost a squeal. It seemed strange coming from a man who was so certain he was holding death in his hands moments before. “She drew me.”

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Indenuel stared at him, confused. “Sorry?”

Tolomon’s eyes were bright with delight as he turned the page around. “Emilia drew me!”

Indenuel looked at the paper and saw Emilia’s drawing. It depicted two unpracticed drawings of little girls next to a large, rectangle of a man who was holding both of their hands with his ridiculously large noodle arms. Indenuel smiled. “It’s an uncanny likeness.”

Tolomon flipped the page back around, beaming. “I love it.”

Indenuel chuckled. The first one in days. “I think you’re right. We both need to get out of the house.” He started to stand up when he paused as an idea hit him. “In fact, I know exactly where we need to go.”

***

They didn’t take the carriage. What Tolomon said was true. Indenuel never put on a nice jacket, and instead walked out in a simple shirt and pants. He told the servants not to style his hair, and instead shook it out so it didn’t lay so flat. Indenuel bent his head, keeping the hood of his cloak up, and felt relieved when he walked into a crowd and no one recognized him. There were a few lingering glances, but they didn’t remain. Tolomon tried to hide himself, but his muscles were impossible to miss.

Indenuel stuck out a bit in the rich side of the city. His clothes helped him blend in a lot better once he was away from the rich side. Indenuel listened to the people going about their day, the quiet lives they lived in the city.

Indenuel reached out gently with his tree powers, sensing the lives in the city, sensed the gossip being passed back and forth about things that seemed trivial, yet he yearned for it. He sensed Baleeah before he turned down another street and saw her there, fiddling with an orange, trying to get it open. Baleeah glanced up when they got closer, her eyes immediately falling on Tolomon. “I didn’t steal it.”

“I wasn’t going to ask,” Tolomon said.

“But you were thinking it,” Baleeah said

“I did, yes. Moreso now that your immediate reaction was to assure me you didn’t steal it.”

Baleeah snorted before she tried again to get it open. “Probably because you’re a Graduate and think the worst of people like me. So I’m trying to assure you that I didn’t. But you still see the worst, so I don’t see why I even bother.”

Indenuel winced, watching Tolomon’s reaction carefully. Tolomon wasn’t necessarily thrilled when he suggested checking on the Oraminians, but he didn’t stop it either.

“Delightful child,” Tolomon muttered.

“Liar,” Baleeah said before handing him the orange. “Can you peel that for me?” Tolomon hesitated before taking it and peeling it open easily. He tossed the fruit back to her. “Thank you.”

“Hey! That’s not yours! You need to pay for it you little Oramin!” a woman said. Baleeah jumped to her feet before hiding in Tolomon’s shadow. The woman slowed when she saw Tolomon, noticed he was obviously a Graduate, even though he tried to blend in. Indenuel realized it was the first time since coming to Santollia City that someone noticed Tolomon before they noticed him, and it was nice. Tolomon reached into his pocket before he dropped a copper in the woman’s hands. The woman grumbled as she moved away.

“You know when people lie because you yourself lie, wouldn’t you say?” Tolomon asked, looking at Baleeah who was enjoying her orange.

“I didn’t steal it. I took it,” Baleeah said.

“Without paying?” Tolomon asked.

Baleeah shrugged. “I’ve never had one before. I wanted to see what the fuss was about. They taste pretty good, but I like apples better.”

Tolomon gave her a soft glare. “Don’t change the subject.”

Baleeah sighed. “And I stole it. But at least I don’t have trust issues.” Tolomon rubbed the bridge of his nose and said nothing. “What brings you here, Eskmenmar?”

“It’s been a while, and I haven’t been called yet. I wanted to make sure you and your family were alright,” Indenuel said.

“Yeah. No one’s been sick since you came. They were a lot more worried the High Elders would ban you from ever seeing us again. I bet they’d be happy to see you. If you want, I could make sure someone makes Darshin leave. Wanna come?” Baleeah asked.

“That’s the thing, Baleeah, the last time I was here, people were literally trying to worship me. I don’t want that. At all,” Indenuel said.

Baleeah wiped her mouth of the juice with her sleeve. “One man made up a song about you. They sing it all the time now.”

Indenuel recoiled, shaking his head. “Nope. No, no. I don’t want that.”

Baleeah shrugged. “Have you tried to tell an Oraminian what they can and cannot do?”

“Yes,” Tolomon mumbled. “We literally fought a war over it.”

“See,” Baleeah said. “War.”

“You do realize Santollia won that war to help you, right?” Tolomon asked.

“Eh,” was all Baleeah said, thrusting the orange peel into Tolomon’s hands. He took it, his lips pursed.

“Would you quit fighting with a ten-year-old?” Indenuel asked under his breath. Tolomon said nothing, still keeping a distrusting eye on Baleeah.

“Baleeah!” Indenuel looked over to see Baleeah’s grandmother hobbling toward them, a string of Oraminian falling from her mouth. Baleeah retorted back, gesturing toward Indenuel and Tolomon. Indenuel waited patiently while the exchange took place.

Baleeah finally sighed. “My grandmother says you and Kumanar must come to dinner.”

Indenuel frowned. “Who’s Kumanar?”

Baleeah pointed toward Tolomon, who had his arms folded. “That’s not my name. My name is Tolomon.”

“Kumanar is easier to say,” Baleeah said.

“No, it’s not,” Tolomon said.

Baleeah shrugged. “Either way, my people would like to do a friendship meal with you. All the other Oraminians will prepare something as a thank you for saving our lives.”

“We do not want to intrude at all,” Indenuel said, his gaze bouncing between Baleeah and her grandmother.

“My grandmother knows what you did put you in danger, not only with the High Elders, but with the Kiam too. She knows-” Baleeah glanced at Tolomon distrustfully. “-the sacrifices others have made for you. That and Darshin apparently already left for the evening.”

“I mean,” Indenuel’s eyes again bounced from Baleeah to her grandmother. “As long as no one worships me.”

Baleeah translated that for him, and her grandmother gave a loud laugh before grabbing Indenuel’s hand and leading him toward the refugee settlement.

“So, no one is going to worship me, right?” Indenuel asked behind his shoulder.

Baleeah shrugged, letting her grandmother take him toward the settlement.