Novels2Search
To Rhial
49: Lonely Boy

49: Lonely Boy

49

(The Black Keys- Lonely Boy)

Desmond

I was in the clinic, pacing as Miriel finished fixing Brenden’s hand. “We’ve gotta go, like, now. There’s no time to bullshit around.”

“Yes, I am very aware of that, but if Brenden will not wake, then you cannot leave.”

“Dude, I’ll throw him in the fuckin’ wagon and tell him he passed out drunk, I don’t care. I’d just like to know why nobody told me ‘bout this Richard asshole.”

“Desmond, will you please let me focus and fix Brenden. If Richard was coming straight for us in the city, we would know by now. We aren’t in immediate danger, he doesn’t know anything aside from your aliases and stage costumes. I’ve heard Madam Diona is leaving Fera in charge of her businesses here as she moves on elsewhere, but we’re still not leaving until Brenden wakes up.”

“I get it, you got no skin in the game but I’m not about to risk our lives ‘cause he ain’t awake yet. I ain’t got nothin’ against y’all, but if it’s between bringin’ the new friends along and gettin’ out alive, Imma worry ‘bout gettin’ out alive. You guys can catch up.”

She gave me a condescending look, the same kinda one that she always gave when she was gonna critique some frustrating difference between the jorlad and nyadin. “Rushing will do nothing for us here. Lord Hallax said we can leave tomorrow. Don’t forget, Desmond, he saw my face too. I don’t want to be here as much as you, but without Madam Diona here, he has no leads. We’ll be out quickly tomorrow.”

“Uh-huh. And Dex? Is he coming? He gonna be a dick the whole time?”

She sighed. “I know how you feel about him, but will it hurt to be civil until all of us are safe?”

“He’s the one who attacked Brenden first. And now that y’all are a thing, he might have his panties in a bunch.”

“He’ll be fine. Zerick gave me his word that Dex would be civil.”

“Good. This Richard guy… he say anything weird?”

“Everything he said was odd.”

“Okay, I guess a second question. You ever heard of somebody named Richard before?”

“No, I haven’t. Wait, do you think I know him?”

“That’s my point. But you know who does know a shitload of Richards? These motherfuckers right here.” I pointed to me and Brenden.

Miriel, looked up at me for a moment before returning to healing Brenden. “You think Richard is another person from your world?”

“You got a better guess? From what Brenden said, he sounds very old fashioned.”

“Brenden said the same thing, but antiquated speech is considered a matter of prestige for Triali speakers.”

“Oh, no. I was thinking that because of how he sounds like he hates women. It seems like that’s a pretty foreign thing here.”

“Is that common where you’re from?”

“For someone who calls himself Richard, not a nickname of it, and is apparently old enough to be playin’ SkyBlock up there, it sounds pretty on brand. Might also have somebody up there who recognized the music we’re rippin’ off and sent him to track us down or somethin’.”

She nodded intellectually for the first part of that, then halted, raising an eyebrow. “Is none of the music your own?”

“Be real, Miriel. Do you honestly think we’d be able to come up with all that?”

“I did. I thought it was admirable.”

Admirable. Fuck. I definitely lost some points for Brenden there. Why’s that sting so bad, though?

“He done yet?”

“Yes, I’ve just finished restoring the burned skin on his hand.”

I took a peek at it. His hand was gnarly looking. The whole ring finger was blown off and the skin all scarred looking, but like an old scar instead of one that had just been torched.

I turned back to Miriel. “His finger comin’ back?”

“No. I don’t have it and by the looks of it, the whole thing disintegrated on impact. He’s lucky the blast was a concentrated explosion, because otherwise he would have lost the rest of his fingers.” She held his hand between both of hers and gazed down at him idly.

“Well, he jumped in front of a ray of explosion magic. Can’t ever say he ain’t got balls, I guess.”

Suddenly, a voice erupted from the hall. “You.”

I turned around to see Hallax pointing at me. “Me?”

“Yes. Come with me.”

Lord Hallax led me to his study, where Hestrel was already sitting.

Hallax began. “Both of you are on duty at the front gates tonight, so it is best to inform you that Lady Simira has just executed her father before the arena. Not many others know yet, but there is a chance that people will be frightened and potentially take protest to any one of the noble halls of Vehfirn, mine included. You’re dismissed until your duty, but be attentive while you work.”

“Yes, Lord Hallax,” Hestrel and I said in unison.

“Oh, and Hestrel, please inform your party that your contracts will be terminated as of tomorrow. I have already informed Miriel. And Desmond, do tell Brenden the same.”

Once again in unison, “Yes, Lord Hallax.”

We both waited until Hallax’s door was out of earshot before reacting.

“Dude,” I said, “what the fuck did we miss? Was that the plan all along?!”

“Did you not know? I was under the impression that you knew the plan.”

“They haven’t told me shit since the performance at the Count’s place. This is fuckin’ wild! I mean, like Simira’s in charge there now. So I guess we’re all good to go tomorrow, but holy shit! That’s a straight up coup!”

Hestrel shook his head and walked along, taking in the golden filigree walls. “House Amien has kept information locked away, it would seem. The quarter has been quite stable in comparison to the frustration of Muria and the inheritance struggles of Hallax. At least Simira did it legally, or else there might have been real chaos.”

“Either way, I got a couple bottles of that good shit for duty tonight. All the heat’s probably gonna be in the Amien Quarter anyways. It’ll be quiet as all fuck.”

Hestrel looked a little nervous when I said that. “I don’t think the city will stir too drastically, but it would be best to refrain for tonight.”

“Listen, Hestrel. We got one night left here. Either we’re drinkin, or I’m drinkin.” Hestrel was still hesitating to agree. “C’mon man, it’ll be just like the other night. We’ll have a few, tell some drunkards to fuck off, and chill out.”

“Maybe. I’m not sure yet.”

* * * * *

The snow started falling in the evening, shortly after the ash. It was a wet, heavy snow and it was cold enough outside that the snow would definitely stick and make travel miserable. Hestrel and I were stationed next to the front gate in a shed that was more like a baseball dugout. At least we were out of the snow and wind, though. We huddled around a fire in the dugout, which retained a surprising amount of heat. Despite the worries, Hallax Quarter was quiet. Aside from the thrashing winds, there was no sound in this part of the city.

“Hestrel, we’ve been out here for, like, an hour. If there was gonna be a riot, we woulda seen it by now.”

I popped the cork on the bottle of fruity wine. It was a strong bottle, but it had a nice flavor similar to cherry and cloves, with some other tangy, citrusy flavors in there too. Hestrel looked defeated and passed his mug over to me.

“That’s the spirit, compadre. Cheers.”

“Cheers.” We both started our long night of drinking in the cold.

“The fuck is up with all this ash? This a normal thing?”

“You haven’t- nevermind, I still forget you’re not from here. The Ashewinds come once a year. I hear it is from a volcano on a far off continent and it is carried across oceans to Peturi. The tale is as old as Triala, older probably. Nearly every person witnesses a year where between the summer solstices, there are no ashewinds. Those years are celebrated upon the last solstice. The children born that year are believed to be born without luck, only to suffer as they will never see a year without ash.”

“Is that why everyone wears veils? Like a funeral?”

“What? They wear the veils so they don’t breathe in ash.” He raised his finger matter of factly. “The old Triali kingdoms, before they dissolved and then were reconquered, gathered all of the Ashechildren, babies born in that year, and raised them in eloquence. They were taken in by the ancient nobles to be warriors. Children burdened to suffer in life should at least attain glory through their suffering, was the belief. Every hundred or so years, a generation of elite soldiers was born, all of them memorialized in the cities they hail from.”

“That’s badass. They still do that?”

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

He snickered. “Oh, no. It’s old superstition. Although, some people still believe children born in those years are destined to suffer until death.”

“When was the last one?”

“A few years after I was born. I believe it was twenty-one years ago. I was too young to remember.”

I nodded and took a swig. “Say, Hestrel, we’re gonna be traveling together tomorrow to fuck knows where. You going somewhere? Home, maybe? You even got a place to call home? A lady back there? Family?”

Hestrel leaned back against the wall and sipped. “Desmond, nobody leaves home because they have a family there. Not unless they’re sick of it or forced to. I’m from pretty far away. A couple weeks south from Miriel’s kinship. It’s a little village out in the middle of nowhere. We had a big fireblood problem in our town, and Miriel and Al’Li were coming through looking for information. I was part of the group hunting them, and they wanted to know all they could. They stayed for a little while to study the firebloods, and Miriel would heal our hunting party. I wasn’t originally going to go with the two of them. I had it made in Thistlebrook. I thought I did. But small towns make for big drama, so when I found my father was shagging my girlfriend, there was a mess.”

“Your own fuckin father, bro?!”

“Indeed.” Hestrel finished his cup and held it out to me.

“Holy shit, what did you do? I’d have probably killed him.” I refilled.

“I almost did. Left his face unrecognizable and buggered out of town with Miriel and Al’Li. I offered to be protection for them, and they agreed.”

“Cheers, I’ll drink to daddy issues.” We raised our cups and chuckled.

“You say that like you’ve got some of your own.”

“Oh plenty. Nothing like him cheating with my girl, though. Just a drunk bastard. The ol’ shitter couldn’t stop pouring booze down his gullet when my mom cheated on him with some rich dick. I was young, and apparently he was beatin’ the shit outta her. The court case was apparently really suspicious on both their parts. They divorced and then he turned into a waste of air while she went off to live in some luxury penthouse in the city. Tells’ parents, you’ll meet Tells, but her parents were basically the ones who raised me because I didn’t wanna stay at home. Other than hunting. He never really drank that hard, though, and didn’t touch me, but he didn’t really try all that hard to be a father neither.”

“I know plenty of people who’ve been through better and ended up worse. You seem like you came out of it pretty well. You’re in a new place making music and good money. Now you just gotta find yourself a lady.”

“I had one back home. Then we died and came here, and I didn’t get to see her again or even say goodbye.”

“Wait, the story about you being from a different world… that’s real? I thought it was a metaphor.”

“The hell would it be a metaphor for?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps moving from a different continent.”

“Nah, man. We straight up died and woke up here.”

Hestrel looked at me and laughed.

“You think I’m bullshitting you or something?” I punched his shoulder

“No, no. But I’ve-” Hestrel was cut off when somebody rounded the corner and stepped into the firelight.

Zerick stepped forward, a thick blanket wrapped around him. “Dex is sulking again. Got room for another?”

I looked at him, a warm feeling growing on my face from the alcohol. “If you got a cup, you can drink too.”

Zerick rifled through his pockets and pulled out a waterskin, emptied it in the snow and then held it out to me.

I chuckled. “Now that’s what I like to see. What were you gonna say, Hestrel?”

“Oh, right. I’ve heard some stories about people from other worlds appearing here, saying things that made no sense and doing incredible feats. I always thought they were just stories, though.”

Zerick leaned forward. “Hestrel, have you listened to the words of any of their songs? Some of those words don’t make any sense. When you hear it, it sounds like it was made by somebody from somewhere entirely different.” He turned to me. “And you still haven’t told me what the fuck the Hotel California is.”

“I’ve just begun thinking more about that.” Hestrel sighed and smirked. “I suppose I can’t argue about your otherworldliness.”

I laughed again. “Cheers, I’ll drink to that.” We all drank. “What about you, Zerick, you got a girl back home?”

Hestrel leaned over to him. “I just told Desmond about my father.”

Zerick leaned forward and held a casually scolding finger up to me. “Oh, that’s torture right there. I can’t believe you’d make him talk about that.”

I leaned back and put my hands up. “Hey, how was I supposed to know?”

“Fair. By the way, is Eddie short for Desmond or something?”

I spent a second thinking about the question, so Hestrel started talking.

“No, Desmond is his actual name. Eddie was a fake name because they were being hunted by the Amiens.”

“Yeah, that,” I interjected.

Zerick looked like he just had a divine revelation. “That makes so much sense. I had been thinking this whole time that it was a nickname. I was so confused how you guys got Alex from Brenden.”

Air burst out and I did a slight spit take before swallowing. “Brother, you are not drunk enough to be sayin’ stupid shit like that.”

Zerick smiled and nodded lowly.

Hestrel tapped Zerick’s shoulder and nudged him. “Answer the question. You haven’t told us about your lost loves or anything yet.”

“Hey,” Brenden’s tired voice emerged from around the corner and Hestrel jumped in place like a scared kitten. Brenden chuckled while me and Zerick damn near lost our shit laughing. “Miriel said I’d find you guys out here. I miss the party or somethin’?”

“You’re right on time, brother.” I passed him the almost empty bottle and popped open the next one.

“Shit, Dee, how many of those did you bring?”

I chortled a little and slid out two more full bottles from behind me. “Four.”

Hestrel’s eyes were bugging out of his head. “Are you trying to kill us?”

“Maybe a little, heh heh, hic.” I may or may not have killed the rest of that bottle pretty quickly. “Zerick, tell ya story already.”

“Alright, so-”

Brenden cut in again. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt the first time.” His lips curled up into a tired but mischievous smile.

Zerick looked at all of us like he was done with our shit. “I’ll just go back to Dex and sulk with him.” Nobody responded, and I put a hand out, gesturing for him to resume.

“Back in Fengrove, big town, lots of orchards, way, way up north, farther than Miriel’s kinship, lots of sun, no bad winters, no snow. I lived with my parents on an orchard with a nice little brook behind it. Dex had been living with me for probably seven harvests, but he got outside a lot more than I did. I worked in my family’s orchard growing pullets, but he was always getting out and meeting people in town. Most of the jorlad townspeople hadn’t seen a dorstun before him, so they thought he was neat looking. I was working while he got popular, and I mean really popular, but not in any way he wanted. They thought of him kinda like a jester, cause he was always tryin’ to hit on ladies and even men, so they thought it was a runnin’ joke. Turns out the bastard was just desperate to find a kjzae cause his people are dyin’ off. Real shame, their rulers got this whole bloodline obsession, then the rest of the already few dorstun followed. Ain’t a one of em that can make babies anymore. Cut lifespans in half cause they got so many issues now. Dex told me that’s why he left, that he just wants to live out the rest of his days with somebody who cares about him. Anyway, uh, my town. It’d been a while since Dex had been making his rounds and this nice girl comes walking up to me in the orchard one day, pretty as could be. Her name was Grethel.”

“Jesus,” I said with a shit eating grin, “I’m sorry to hear that.” The other two laughed, but Zerick glared at me.

“She starts talking to me and I start talking back, and things are going good, you know? We meet down by the brook most days and talk until my parents yell for me to get back working. A couple of weeks in and Dex sees me and her talking and he comes to talk to me after she leaves. He tells me she’s running a game, trying to sleep with as many of the men in town as she can. I tell him I don’t care, because she seemed interested, and I hadn’t ever had a woman interested in me. He just rambled and rambled, sayin’ I should avoid her. Then I told him I’d ask her about what he said, get it straight from her. She told me Dex was lying.”

Zerick was choking on his words at this point, fighting back tears in his eyes. The air became a little stiff, and even Hestrel worriedly peered at Zerick like he hadn’t heard this story.

“Anyway, Dex apparently started spreading that rumor that she was playing games with all the men around, but she was still coming by and acting all normal with me. I didn’t ever find out what happened, but all these men started propositioning her and touchin’ her and she got scared, ran off into the orchard and fell into the brook. Hit her head on a rock, split wide open in the water. Anyway, after I found her, Dex came by and told me he was just fibbing. He’d talked to her first, and had been talking to her about me, and she took interest in me, not him, so he spread the rumors.”

“Holy fucking shit, dude,” Brenden blurted out. “You’re still friends with him after that?”

“I was 15 back then, he was 13. We were kids.”

I stopped him. “Wait, Zerick, how old are you now?”

“19. I didn’t let him off the hook if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Hestrel gazed into the fire and then a lightbulb lit up over his head. “That’s why you’re so fervent about his behavior? Why you only allow him to court one woman?”

Zerick sloppily leaned forward as if to give a lecture. “Honestly, openly, and only one. He’s a flighty jealous bastard, so he’s got to learn to be loyal. But I’ve seen him low, and I know he’s got potential.”

Brenden sat back awkwardly, and I was eager to gossip, so I did. “And now his court is all fucked up, isn’t it?”

Zerick turned to me, clearly not able to handle his liquor as he started going cross-eyed. “I’ve been telling him that- oh fuck, the alcohol’s hitting.”

The other three of us collectively laughed at him while he regained his bearings.

“Anyway, I told him to give her up months ago, but now he’s more committed than any man I’ve ever seen. He got jealous and then he got what he got. Hope he learned his lesson.”

“Why are you even still chill with him?” I leaned forward, trying to see through the blurriness.

“He’s all I got. We’re all each other got since we were kids.” He was staring into the fire all contemplative like.

Brenden tipped forward and fell off his seat. “I still- ah fuck- uh…” He leaned himself against the bench. “I still put up with this cheating bastard, so I feel you.” He pointed to me.

Did that motherfucker just call me out again?

“Fuck you mean, cheatin’. Yer stupid ass knows you din’t tell me bout your girl until after she bootycalled me and I told you that we was fuckin’.”

“Ya still wouldn’a done if you weren’t such a dumbass.”

“Bitch, you didn’t even tell me you was datin’!”

“Yup, sure I didn’t.”

“You didn’t!”

Zerick broke through our bickering. “Sounds like you guys just got played.”

But Brenden just had to be a truth teller. “We thought the same ‘n shit after it was done. Then Desmond decided to keep on screwing with that hoe.”

“Brenden, pussy is pussy. We all make mistakes, but-” Pain scorched through my testicles as Brenden slammed them with the empty bottle.

“Nah, bitch, you make mistakes.”

I laid back, drinking and reeling from the dizzying pain.

“Desmond!” Brenden grabbed my arm and pulled me limply forward. “Get your fuckin’ salufo out, I know you got it here somewhere, you rat bastard.”

“It’s under the bench, grab it for me.”

“Dehmon, gimme a beat.” Brenden pushed past my knee and turned to Hestrel and Zerick, who were equally as cross eyed-drunk. “Fellas, the choruses for the songs are simple, just join in when you get the feel, capiche?”

More of our dumbfuckery continued into the night, which not a single person disturbed. Eventually, we were all just sitting on the bench completely hammered and singing into the empty night air like the drunk fools we were.

“YOU! YOU GOT WHAT I NEEEEEEEED! BUT YOU SAY HE’S JUST A FRIEND!”

I heard something from somewhere down the road but none of us registered it, “...The gate! Open the gate!”

“OOOOH BABY, YOU GOT WHAT I NEEEEEED! BUT YOU SAY HE’S JUST A FRIEND! YOU SAY HE’S JUST A FRIEND!”

“YOU WAILING BUFFOONS, OPEN THE GATE, NOW!”

The music stopped, and we all sobered up a little when we saw a blue guy in full armor on a corty in front of the gate. Hestrel shot up, staggering until he leaned against the wall.

“Yooour business, sir? Iss late ‘n Lord Halx is sleepin.”

Blue guy got off the corty and rushed over to him. “Let me in! It is an emergency concerning the life of Viscountess Amien! We need Miriel now!”

Hestrel stumbled unlocking and opening the gate, then walked up after the blue guy took off toward the Hall.

Zerick stared on in amazement, like he was trying to process the events. I just smiled at Brenden and raised the last bottle, which had maybe a shot left in it.

“Ding dong, the bitch is dead!”

And then my guts came up through my mouth, spewing all over the fire.