The Favor

Leogrhn was sitting in Elrik’s study, behind his desk, feet kicked up on the surface, drinking and smoking Elrik’s secret stash of Gartha absinthe and Carthus cigars.  Having just returned from his hunting trip, he still carried the rifle on his shoulder.  He stopped just inside the room and took in the scene.  Leogrhn smiled wide, the cigar held between his teeth and glass filled with a sea foam-colored liquid dangling in his hand.  Elrik seriously contemplated using the rifle but thought better of it.  Leogrhn’s blood would only stain the carpet.

“Well, I’ll be damned!  You are one fine looking man, if I do say so myself!”

Elrik took his friend’s comments in stride, not confirming or denying his good looks.  Having just spent the last four days in a lodge dodging Lady Gabretta’s advances, Elrik was short on patience.  He had to make it so the rejections were clear, but inoffensive.  In doing so he managed to use all his patience for the week.  So, even though Leogrhn was being his normal, antagonistic self, he didn’t even merit a reaction.  Instead, Elrik ignored him and walked over to the gun closet by the windows and pulled a key ring from his vest pocket.  Using his teeth to pull off his leather gloves by the finger tips, he managed to retrieve the correct key and unlock the cabinet.  Just as he was storing his rifle next to half a dozen others, Leogrhn cleared his throat.

Elrik used the last bit of his patience for holding back the eye roll, “So, Leo, here for any specific reason?”

Leogrhn beamed.  “Well, now that you mention it, I do have an interesting tidbit of information you might want to hear.”  He sipped from the glass while Elrik’s back was turned and waited for him to respond.

“Is that so?”  Elrik closed the gun cabinet, locked it, and turned to his left to face his childhood friend, “Do you think you could tell me before your queer soaks into the furniture?”

“Ha!  Now that’s what I’m looking for!”

“Get out of my chair before I get the rifle back out.”

Leogrhn’s laughing ended with Elrik’s cold glare.  I don’t have to be told twice!  He hopped up and presented the empty seat in a royal fashion, “Welcome back, young master.”  Leogrhn was almost as notorious for his sarcasm as Elrik was.  Though they’ve known each other since they were boys, Elrik was still the brother of an Archon and a wealthy business owner.  Given their difference in social status, it was difficult at times to have a real conversation.  Their personalities were always conflicting.

“Shut up.”

“Do you want to hear what I have to say or not?”  Leogrhn challenged, taking a seat on the leather couch across the room from Elrik and his desk.  From here, he could look out the tall windows into the garden.  Elrik could keep his comfy seat, his came with the better view.

Elrik suddenly regretted his attitude.  He was just tired.  He knew he had no right to take it out on Leogrhn.

He cleared his throat, “You don’t have to have a reason to come see me, Leo.  My home is your home.”

Unmoved by Elrik’s declaration, Leogrhn merely sniffed and nodded, any jest gone. Since the news he carried was of the unpleasant variety, he decided to just tell Elrik.  Like a bandage, rip it off quick! “Your brother came by the property last night.”

This news came as quite the surprise.  Elrik’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead and wrinkled the skin there in astonishment.  “Whatever did he want?  To come all the way down from Gartha...  That’s not like him.”

“I know.”  Leogrhn frowned deeply and instantly, Elrik was puzzled by the sight.  Leogrhn could smile at anything, anyone!  For that boyishly handsome face to frown?  It was unprecedented.

“So?  What did the menace want?”  He tried not to look too interested in Leogrhn’s answer but he wasn’t fooling any one.

Everyone knew a nightly visit from Elrik’s brother was not something to simply disregard.  In fact, a simple visit by the man was something to raise alarms.  Elrik made it very clear some number of years ago that once he possessed a home of his own, he didn’t want anything to do with the b*****d.  There has never been love between them and he knew he wasn’t welcome here so why did he come?  Agitated and bewildered now, Elrik slumped back in his leather desk chair and ran one of his slender hands through his loose, wavy, brown hair, a mannerism Leogrhn recognized from their childhood.  News of his brother was really getting under his skin.  Leogrhn regretted saying anything at all.

He sighed, “We don’t know.  I assume he came to see you by his outrage to find you gone on a hunting trip.”

“Oh, because that wasn’t already a given!”  A fist came down on the surface of the desk between them and Leogrhn remained silent as Elrik vented his anger on the desk supplies and stack of papers in front of him.  They were scattered across the floor in seconds.

Leogrhn politely crossed his ankles and leaned back against the couch cushion, waiting Elrik out.  They had predicted how Elrik would react, he and Agrinor.  It was their agreement on this that led Leogrhn to be the messenger.  Agrinor didn’t have time or the patience to simply watch and wait.  Leogrhn, however, had nothing but time.  And if he got to help himself to Elrik’s personal stash, well, that was a bonus.

It had been torture to grow up with him!  Just the thought of his brother brought back all those horrible memories.  Elrik forgot all about Leogrhn as he fumed, If I see that b*****d again I’ll rip his goddamn throat out!  Elrik was radiating an energy so black and sick, Leogrhn, someone of little to no sensitivity, felt his skin crawl.  He was murderous in his rage, just as his brother had been.  Times like these, Leogrhn really had to question the difference between the two.

“I’m sensing a lot of hostility so unless you need me for something, I’ll just be going.”  Leogrhn stood, dismissing himself, only to stop in mid-stride.

“Wait.”  Elrik called, his eyes looking down on the scattered documents and utensils on his study’s floor.  He sighed.  The only thing he ever had in common with his brother was his temper.  A fact, he always hated.  Running another hand through his shoulder-length hair, he dared to ask for a favor, “On second thought, I have a job for you.”  His eyes lifted to find Leogrhn collapsing back onto the couch.  He sighed heavily but remained.

“Of course you do.”  Whatever the task, Leogrhn was sure it would be a test of his loyalty.

 

 

 

Olivian was seated in a chair at the farthest end of the dining table with an empty stomach and a hardly touched plate of chicken.  She sipped her wine from a pewter chalice and waited.

She had no choice in the matter.  She was unable to leave.  Danerius’s majik held her in place, just as it had guided her into the dress she wore for dinner and the room of which she now resides.  It was his way of reminding her who held her life in his hands.  It repeated every night he was in town.  It was also his way of insuring he had absolute control over her.  After their first year of marriage, she began growing out of his manipulative lies.  Now, because her dislike for her husband had long since evolved into hate, he resorted to majik to get his way.

She was powerless against him and it’s been this way for ten long years.  The time had come and gone that she wished to be released.  Now, she simply waited.  A part of her often wondered if this was the Creators’ way of punishing her sins.  She played long and hard with the boys in her adolescence and used her beauty in youth to get everything she wanted and, in this case, everything she didn’t.  She was fifteen when she foolishly agreed to marry a wealthy archon who, at the time, was a dashing young man in his twenties.  She ignorantly assumed her beauty would guarantee a simple marriage, but she’s been paying for that mistake every day and every night for the last decade.

When would the Creators forgive her?

She was running out of prayers to recite while he took her in their bed.

The wooden double doors swung open behind her, but she was unable to turn in her seat to look.  She held her breath until an all too familiar voice sounded out over her right shoulder, his breath raising goose bumps on the back of her neck.

“Good evening, Olivian.  You look beautiful, as always.”  The archon gently pressed his lips to the skin behind her ear and chuckled when she flinched.  “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”  Pleasantly amused, he found his seat on the opposite end of the table.

Only for the last hour…  Olivian thought bitterly to herself.  Ooh, how she hated this man!

“I just knew that color would complement your complexion!  You are positively stunning, my love.”  He chuckled merrily while he shook out his napkin and laid it out on his lap.  A huge smile plastered on his middle-aging face.  His dark hair was short and greying just the slightest around the corners.  His piercing blue eyes saw right through her.  She thought he was going to say something else when instead, he picked up the steel ware and frowned deeply.  He then proceeded to taste the wine…

Outraged, he yelled, “Deloris!”

Quickly thereafter, a short, stout woman in her fifties entered the room, her face expressionless, “Yes, my lord?”

Danerius scoffed and turned his frown into a glare, “I requested the fine silver for tonight, did I not?  For Creators’ sake, Deloris!  Get me the damned silverware and break out the good wine!  This piss just won’t do!”

“Yes, my lord.”  She bowed her head and then quickly retreated into the kitchen.  A couple seconds later and two kitchen hands came out with their eyes lowered to retrieve their dishes.

The wine tasted fine to her…  Suddenly, Olivian was left with nothing to distract herself with.

Surrendering to the fact that she was going to have to socialize, she asked carefully, “Are we celebrating something, my husband?”

“We are indeed.”  The Archon beamed brightly but said no more.  He straightened his vest and tugging on the sleeves of his dress shirt.  He felt the need to right himself after that little outburst.  Sometimes he could just be so impulsive!

Olivian cocked a brow but didn’t inquire further.  She knew it would only take a few minutes before he would grow impatient enough to tell her everything anyways.  He was an egomaniac like that.

They sat in polite silence for no less than a minute before the new arrangement was brought out.  In indignation, Danerius huffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest while the terrified kitchen hand laid the silverware before him.  And again, Olivian was reminded of her hate for this man.  He was in his mid-thirties and he was still pouting like a child.  Disgusting.

A fresh bottle of wine was brought out and, after Danerius’s approval, poured.  When he tasted this one, he closed his eyes and swirled it around in his mouth.  Thankfully, a content sigh escaping pasted his blood-red stained lips.  He put the silver chalice down with measured precision and picked up the silverware to begin cutting into the rosemary seasoned chicken breast, all the while, not once looking back at Olivian.

It was only when she continued to ignore her meal did he finally meet her eye, with a fair amount of poorly hidden irritation he asked, “Is there something you find displeasing, love?”

“I’m just feeling a bit under the weather is all.”  She forced an apologetic smile and then sipped from her new glass.  The wine was a bit sweeter but aside from that, she could detect no difference.  Her husband really was insane.

“Eat and you’ll feel much better.  I know the night started with a rough patch but Gernarld assures me that the chicken was cooked to perfection.”  And then, as if to prove his point, he sliced off a golden chunk and brought it to his mouth.  He chewed thoroughly but after a bit, gave a little wince.  He swallowed, his voice a little rough, “Well, close enough.”  Olivian gave a little smile that she hoped would appease him but he was having none of it.  Tonight was a celebration!  This b***h was spoiling his appetite!  “Eat it, Olivian.”

“I’m not hun-“

“EAT.”

And just like that, with that single word, her hands moved on their own accord.  She picked up the silverware and despite her attempt to stop, was soon chewing a similar golden chunk.  It wasn’t until she swallowed that he spoke again.

“I have good news, my darling.  Remember the show we went to last night?”

Olivian felt sick.  She wasn’t exactly sure if it was the dry chicken on her empty stomach or the implication.  Either way, she braced herself like she was about to be struck and like she always did, waited for what was coming next.  “Yes.”

“What am I asking?  Of course you do!  A performance like that is hard to forget!”  Danerius took a moment to collect himself, his eagerness and excitement was making him giddy.  He took a deep breath but the fat grin on his face never left.  “Well, guess who I invited for an extended stay?”

Please, divinities!  Don’t let it be true!

“The Von Jor girl?”

“Yes!  I even took the liberty of acquiring a bed chamber here in the house.  I’m thinking of hiring a lady-in-waiting or perhaps an instructor?  Her form was excellent but if she stays here she’ll be entertaining an audience of a higher caliber.  Perhaps I’ll turn one of the ballrooms into an auditorium…” 

He droned on for what felt like forever.  In his musing, Olivian finally realized, the Creators did hate her.

 

 

The Chevalier Order was over 3000 years old so you’d think their buildings and facilities would be the best architecture around, but you’d be wrong.  The Oratory was little more than propped up rubble and the dormitories… He couldn’t see passed all the moss and lichen covering the age-old stones.  The Order has long since neglected their walls and the beams of their chapels.  The Chevaliers originated from the country of Hrothera.  Their oldest structures lay wasting in the deep mountains.  The state of the grounds shouldn’t have surprised Carson Aldwor, but it did.

Coming from Shierda, the only village east of Rosen lake, bordering the vastly unexplored land Frenellew, it was a long journey to get where he was now.  So many different faces, skin colors and languages!  It was so easy to forget there were so many lands outside his home.  Shierda was known only for its recluse location and equally recluse community. A reputation not unlike the Order’s.  It was merely coincidence that a band of Chevaliers happened to be crossing the country land the same instant Carson was using majik to lift a fallen tree out from the road’s path.  Immediately recognizing his power, they refused to leave him be.

Now, three months later and the four men were falling behind.  One due to old age.

“Remember when we did that?”  Daniel asked the seven-foot tall man to his left while he eyes watched their new initiate trot on ahead.  The Creationist snorted and thumped a massive hand on Daniel’s shoulder.  Daniel winced but Cleaven was none-the-wiser.

With a bellowing laughter, Cleaven grinned, “You resemble old man Yusin more than you’d like to know, my friend.  I think it’s time you admit defeat and request a transfer to the Oriendumar Compound.” 

The Compound?  Daniel was livid.  Positions in Oriendumar were plentiful and for the untalented and/or over-challenged.  To clarify, it’s where they sent the elders of the Order once they’ve been replaced with fresh blood.  And that white-toothed smile?  Just another mockery.  But what was he supposed to do?  Take on a Frenellew Behemoth because he’d wounded his pride?  He thought not.  In fact, he was too old to let those kind of comments bother him.  Sure, he wasn’t in his prime, but he also wasn’t the walking corpse Yusin had been.

They were the same age and yet Cleaven didn’t look a day over twenty.  It was his Frenellew blood pumping through those thick veins that kept him youthful though.  Not majik.  If it was majik Daniel would’ve found a way to replicate it and use it on himself by now.  Alas!  He was not that lucky.

Absently rubbing his shoulder, Daniel stealthily flicked his wrist to gather all the stringy roots in the soil around their feet.  With a forced cough, he closed his fist over his mouth and in doing so, captured Cliff’s two feet in a mess of natural bonds.

“You’re practically home and you two want to brawl now?”  Alecsender, the only other Creationist in their party, stepped up to stand between them.

“Let them bicker, Alec.  We’ll be through with them soon enough.”  Hadien, probably the most powerful of the four and the strongest Mutation of his generation, spoke quietly from the back of the group.  Alecsender and Daniel turned to see him while Cleaven tried to stomp his feet free. “The grandmaster will want to meet Carson.  One of us will have to take him there.  Until he gets the clear, don’t let him out of your sights.”  Hadien was the second youngest in their group and the least outgoing person Daniel had ever met.  He was also the most eager to be done with their journey.  Hadien's hair was white-blond and his skin far too pale.  His eyes were brown and his lips were thin.  His cheekbones were high and his jawline narrow.  He was the most ordinary of them and yet, harbored the most enigmatic power.

Finally free, Cleaven faced Hadien.  Irritated, he lashed out, “Why don’t you do that then, pretty boy?  Maybe you can teach him a thing or two.  I’m sure your skills outreach either of your majik.”

They had long since stopped walking, these four.  Daniel soon became the only one who was mindful of the distance growing between Carson and them.  With Cleaven insulting the Mutation, Daniel was already calculating the manpower it was going to take to separate these two if they went after each other’s throats.  Hadien gave the giant a dangerous look.  One that said, “I dare you.”  Cleaven, though a healer, was a brute.  If Hadien challenged him, he’d accept.  And he’d lose, but not after putting up a good fight.  Daniel was a good judge of character and probably the only one in their company who possessed linear thoughts.  Alecsender was a creature of caution, not problem-solving.  Carson’s personality was a strong one, but had yet to reveal where he fit into everything.  It hurt his pride further to realize if Hadien and Cleaven went after each other, he was going to need the child’s help to stop them.

“Shall we proceed?”

All four men turned their heads simultaneously to find Carson an arm’s reach away.  Being the role model for the new guy hadn’t even crossed their minds.  Daniel cleared his throat and everyone took a step away from each other.

Cleaven huffed and shook himself like a dog who got his fur wet.  He then walked up to the boy and thumped his fist on his shoulder in the same manner in which he injured Daniel.  Though Carson flinched, Cleaven threw his muscled arm over his shoulders and leaned down to speak quietly.  They then began walking towards the wrought-iron gate farther up the path, "Come boy, it’s time we introduce you to your new home.”

Author's Note

Everyone say hi to Elrik and the Chevaliers! Oh, and you can't forget the troubled Olivian!

Anyways, any feed back is better than none. I'm looking for suggestions, comments, thoughts, criticism... I don't care what form it takes, just please! Let me know what you think. And don't sugar coat it haha I can take it!