Indenuel finished his daily training. He replayed the conversation with Martin in his mind as he ate his chicken and rice. There were multiple sides to this war. It made sense that Santollia needed to stop slavery. It made sense that, if Kiam didn’t give the information as to whether they practiced slavery, they needed to see why. But at the same time, as someone who wanted to be left alone himself, he didn’t like the idea of someone barging into his life and forcing him to live a certain way when there was no proof of slavery in the first place. And what about the other three countries? Yes, slavery was eliminated, but had Santollia overstepped their power? Indenuel still couldn’t shake the feeling that Martin wasn’t the best one to get answers from. He needed to ask an Oraminian. Or a Zimoran. Or Dengrian. But he didn’t know any, let alone knew their language enough to communicate.
Derio walked over to Martin and handed him a small stack of papers. He thanked him before looking through the letters. Indenuel was again reminded of Matteo, Isla, and Emilia. He set his fork down and headed toward Derio, who resumed his place by a tree. “Any messages for me?” Indenuel asked.
Derio bowed. “None, sir. Are you expecting one?”
“I haven’t heard from the children in a while. I’m feeling anxious about their wellbeing,” Indenuel said quietly, focusing on his plate.
“Ah, I see. I will do my best to ask about the issue without being too overbearing,” Derio said.
Indenuel nodded. “Right. Yes. Thank you, Derio. That’s… exactly what I need.”
Derio smiled before closing his eyes and touching the trunk of the tree. Indenuel backed away, focusing on eating his lunch. He wiped the sweat on his forehead from the practice with Nathaniel. They worked hard, and it was the first time Nathaniel suggested to take a break for lunch.
Hoofs beat against the dirt road, and Indenuel glanced up from his plate.
“Derio?” Martin asked.
Derio, still connected to the tree, gave a short nod. “Tolomon the Graduate approaches. He’s a few days early.”
Nathaniel laughed. “I wouldn’t expect any less from that overachiever.”
The horse was in sight, pushed to a gallop, and Indenuel wondered if this meant Tolomon brought bad news. Once the horse was close enough, he eased the horse to a stop before dismounting. He patted the sweating animal before handing the reins to a servant. He then headed straight to Martin and bowed low.
“High Elder Martin, I am Tolomon the Graduate. It is an honor to-”
“Tolomon! Stop the formalities! It is so good to see you again!” Martin said, helping the man up and giving him a quick hug.
Tolomon gave a smile. “Well, thank you, sir. If your servants could tend to the horse I borrowed from the town ahead, I would be most grateful. I would like to deliver the horse in a better state than when they lent it to me out of gratitude.”
“Of course, a kind gesture indeed. I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Martin said, keeping an arm around Tolomon. “I hope you didn’t push yourself too hard in coming here.”
“As hard as I could, High Elder Martin. If the rumors are true, it is an honor to be the Warrior’s bodyguard.”
Indenuel did his best not to look awkward. He finished swallowing the food in his mouth and glanced in Adosina’s direction for comfort. She touched the side of her cheek before pointing at Indenuel. He brushed his cheek and some rice fell off. He shot her a grateful smile, and she beamed in response.
“We have not had much trouble yet, but it is best to be prepared. Indenuel, would you like to introduce yourself?” Martin asked, giving Tolomon a final pat on the back.
Indenuel forced himself to take a few steps forward and bowed, staring at the plate still in his hands with his half-eaten lunch. “I’m Indenuel, son of Lucia.”
Tolomon bowed low again. “I am Tolomon the Graduate.”
Even in Mountain Pass, Indenuel heard about the legendary Graduates. It was rumored that four Graduates could take on a hundred Kiamese soldiers with ease. It was a life of sacrifice and dedication, and the highest honor someone in the common class could receive, and a fine title for a nobleman. Therefore, much like Martin had the title of Martin the Healer, Tolomon’s parentage was replaced with the title of Graduate once he passed his military tests. What those tests were, only Graduates’ themselves knew, but the fact that there were a few deaths every year meant it was no simple feat.
“Do you need some lunch, Tolomon?” Martin asked.
“If it is not too much of an inconvenience, High Elder Martin,” Tolomon said.
“Oh, stop this, Tolomon. You practically lived at my house while you and Nathaniel were training at the military. That alone gives you permission to call me Martin,” Martin said.
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
“I understand, sir,” Tolomon said.
Martin sighed. “You’re just going to call me sir, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” Tolomon said.
Indenuel snorted. Tolomon looked to be about the same age as Nathaniel, which had to be closer to forty years old. He had short brown hair and pale green eyes. He was an entire head higher than Indenuel, and as Indenuel took in Tolomon’s build, he couldn’t help but wonder how it was possible to have that much muscle.
Nathaniel approached, smiling. “Hello, Tolomon.”
“It is good to see you again, Nathaniel. Life has treated you well,” Tolomon said.
“It has, yes. And you, too, I see.”
There was a pause. It almost looked like the two men were waiting for the other to speak, when out of nowhere, Nathaniel pulled out his sword and headed straight for Tolomon. Indenuel hardly had time to blink before Tolomon met him with his own sword. He gasped as the only sound was the clangs of metal against metal. It was impossible to see what was going on, both fighting so fast it was more of a blur. He backed away, feeling his chest tighten in fear. As much as he wanted to believe he wasn’t getting as scared, this was still the first sword fight he’d ever seen.
“It’s alright, Indenuel,” Martin said, appearing next to him.
“What are they doing?” Indenuel asked, his voice full of air as he tried to steady himself.
“Ridiculous military tradition,” Adosina said, even though there was a hint of pride in her voice. “Graduates are considered the best, and any member of the military are allowed to fight them without warning to keep them on their toes.”
His breathing turned erratic when Martin’s hand squeeze around his wrist. “They’re going to be fine.”
He shoved his anxiety toward Martin as the warmth of the healing power swallowed it up. They’re safe. We’re safe. Nothing bad is happening, he told himself repeatedly.
He watched the fight, still terrified but in awe as he gripped his plate of lunch. He could identify one of the stances before he was three stances behind.
“Honestly, Nathaniel is lasting a lot longer than most,” Adosina said.
“They just started,” Indenuel said.
“Exactly.”
Nathaniel’s boys cheered Tolomon on. Rosa smiled, though shook her head. Indenuel continued to stare, surprised. Martin let go of his wrist and some of the anxiety returned, but not as bad. He convinced his mind for now that there was no danger. He watched as the men traveled through the camp and came to a self-deprecating conclusion.
“Nathaniel’s been going easy on me,” Indenuel said.
“Very,” Adosina said. He winced. He thought he was getting better. “Don’t feel bad.”
Tolomon knocked the sword out of Nathaniel’s hands, and the boys cheered.
“I surrender!” Nathaniel said with a laugh. “Thank you for not knocking me out in front of my family.”
Tolomon sheathed his sword. “Don’t downplay your abilities. I honestly tried.” The two men gave each other a tight hug before Rosa returned Nathaniel’s sword to him and a servant handed Tolomon a plate of chicken and rice.
Tolomon approached Indenuel, and his anxiety returned. Tolomon barely broke a sweat as he inhaled the lunch and swallowed it before he appeared in front of Indenuel. “I find it important to go through questions of what you expect of me, so we feel more comfortable with each other.”
Indenuel was aware how wide his eyes had become. He looked over to see Nathaniel drenched in sweat, talking and laughing with his boys and Rosa. He then looked back up at Tolomon who he already knew was intimidating but understood it now more than before.
“Yes. Of course,” Indenuel said.
Tolomon smiled, and Indenuel was surprised to see the warmth there. He stared ahead, again fighting down his fears. Tolomon was the kind of person he was instinctually terrified of. Honestly, Tolomon could snap Indenuel in half without trying. People like that were only around Indenuel to punish him. To have one be there to protect him instead would take a while to get used to.
“You will stay by my side?” Indenuel asked.
“Yes, Warrior Indenuel,” Tolomon said.
“Even… even during the war?”
“Especially then.”
Indenuel’s chest relaxed. Yes, he desperately needed to learn the sword, but after seeing what Tolomon could do to Nathaniel, he felt a bit better about his chances of survival.
“How close by my side?” Indenuel asked.
“During a battle? Either by your side or preparing a path for you to run. Everywhere else, I can move in and out of groups quite easily. Should you wish a semblance of privacy, I can give it. But do not send me away if I am at your side. It most likely means danger.”
Indenuel nodded. “And… and sleeping arrangements?”
“Whatever you are most comfortable with, sir. Might I suggest me having the room next to you for now?” Tolomon said.
“For now?” Indenuel asked.
“Should there be an attempt on your life, I am obligated to sleep in the same room as you to make sure an attempt wasn’t tried again. But for now, I’d get to you quick enough by being down the hall,” Tolomon said.
“Of course.” But he found he was talking to Tolomon’s back. He had turned on his heel and used his empty plate to block a stick that had been thrown at him while catching another stick out of the air. Aaron and Diego were staring wide eyed at Tolomon, both with their arms stretched forth, the damning evidence of who it was that threw the sticks.
“Whoa!” Aaron said.
“He is good!” Diego said.
Nathaniel gave Tolomon a stiff grin before he grabbed the collars of his boys’ shirts and dragged them over to the side and started giving them a lecture.
Tolomon turned around again, a small smile on his face. “Do you have any further questions for me, Warrior Indenuel?”
Indenuel gave a quick shake of his head. He had a million questions, but he had to handle his fears first. He was terrified of Tolomon, even though he tried not to be.
“Perfect. Then I shall go get more lunch before we leave, if that is alright with you, sir,” Tolomon said in Martin’s direction.
“Of course.”
He made another bow before he spun the plate in his hands and headed toward the servants. Indenuel stared forward, his eyes refusing to shrink.
Martin gave a nod of approval. “There is now no doubt in my mind we can get you to Santollia City in one piece.” He patted Indenuel on the back before making his way toward Derio. Indenuel simply stared ahead.
“You alright?” Adosina asked.
Indenuel gave a tiny shrug. “What else I can add to the war? Tolomon is the man to stop it.”
Adosina laughed. “There are over a thousand Graduates. And yet you are the only one with four gifts. Trust in God, that he has a purpose for you.”
Indenuel smiled as she gave him a gentle touch on the elbow before walking over to Rosa. Indenuel tried to take comfort in what Adosina said. He had gone his entire life thinking having the four gifts meant he was some sort of devil’s child. It had only been two weeks and he was still trying to rearrange his mindset. Honestly, after seeing Tolomon do what he did to Nathaniel so quickly, he didn’t understand why anyone thought it would be Indenuel who was the key in winning the war.