Young Writers Society

All right, I don't know if it's fail so much as nervousness over writing a properly mysterious scene...but we shall see.

The first part (that is, the conversation between Nendo and Darian) I like, but the last part is a bit...mehh. If not fail.

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“Well,” said Nendo. “I don’t know…even when I heard the story on the streets, with just the Protector in it, it just sounded like just that—a story. I guess I never cared about it ‘cause…well…I was too busy trying to survive.”

He didn’t know why he felt embarrassed admitting this to Darian; it was only logical, after all. Still, he felt that Darian might not understand, having lived in luxury his entire life.

Darian, however, nodded. “That’s perfectly understandable.” Then, casting another glance at the book, “I do think it’s more than just a story. I don’t think that what it describes happened literally—but it is a very nice metaphorical account of the settlement of Aeta.”

“The what?” said Nendo blankly.

“Don’t you know?” said Darian, looking annoyed for a moment, before his expression softened. “But of course you wouldn’t…being a street boy. Haven’t you ever wondered where humans came from?”

“Um…” The truthful answer had to be no; Nendo had never had time to wonder about anything except what to do to get food for the day.

“Well, you probably haven’t,” said Darian, clasping his hands again. “We weren’t made by the guardians—humans came from a single world, a world called ‘Earth’. It is the current capital of the Coalition of Worlds. Say, Nendo, do know what spacecraft are?”

“Yeah,” said Nendo. “Well, a little. They’re like…ships, I guess? That people use to travel through space.”

“Precisely,” said Darian. “Now, long ago—probably thousands of years ago—humans on Earth learned to make spacecraft that would take them to distant stars. These craft were…well…I don’t suppose you’d understand the science behind it, but suffice to say that they were what were called ‘slower than light’. Meaning they would take a very long time to reach their destinations. Decades, at least.

“Earth sent forth a great plethora of these spacecraft to distant stars. They were huge ships, filled with tens of thousands of colonists. The colonists would lose all contact with each other and with their mother world. When their craft landed, they would be entirely on their own.”

“Oh…” said Nendo, beginning to see sense in Darian’s explanation. “So us, on Aeta, we’re descended from those humans.”

“Sharp,” said Darian again, smiling slightly. “As are all the humans on the Coalition’s ‘lost worlds’. Every lost world is populated by descendants of a single colony ship—the ‘chariots of flaming metal’—who grew in favor to the world’s conditions. Something about this world’s conditions must have triggered the development of magic—first battle, then healing, divining, and time. Hence the guardians, who probably represent the first magic practitioners on this planet. The rift between the Protector and Traveler derives from a real disagreement between battle and time mages, I’d imagine.”

“I see…” said Nendo, slowly digesting this information. “But wait, how does that explain, you know, the offworlders? The Coalition?”

“Ah.” Darian leaned back in his chair, gazing at the ceiling. “From what I’m aware, about two hundred years prior—thousands of years after that first colonization—Earth discovered a way to travel that’s called ‘faster than light’. It cuts the time to take a space journey from years to days, if not hours. Don’t ask me how it works, I don’t quite understand myself. When the Coalition spread, hopping from world to world, they eventually encountered us ‘lost worlds’. The descendants of Earth’s first wave of colonization.”

Nendo couldn’t say anything to this; he just felt so overwhelmed. All this information, all things he never knew before yet made perfect sense when he thought about them. It all fitted together, like the pieces of a puzzle.

And it made him curious. Previously, Nendo had never thought about the Coalition or offworlders much except when they directly intersected with his own life, which was rare. He could remember viewing the spaceport from afar once, when he was around eight or nine, in awe of its massive size, while Tey tugged at his arm and begged him to go back to the streets. And there’d been that time about two years ago, when a group of offworlders—pale-faced young men in tight-fitting dark clothes—had marched through the city streets and kicked aside anyone who got in their way, while making disparaging comments on the things they saw. Nendo had been kicked hard in the side that time.

But now—he wanted to know more. He realized that he had this connection to Earth and the Coalition and he’d never known of it; maybe most people on Aeta didn’t know on it. The knowledge burned in his chest like a small hot sun. Suddenly, he wanted to find out more about other worlds; he wanted to see how different or similar they were to Aeta, if humans were the same everywhere or different depending on their surroundings.

He couldn’t voice any of this sudden desire to Darian, though; he didn’t have the words for it. Instead, Nendo asked, “Have you ever been off world?”

Darian shook his head. “No. Lord Masudo has, many times, and my father went to Earth once. He brought me several mementos back from that voyage…” Again, a caress had entered his voice, and a small affectionate smile tugged at his lips. Nendo leaned back in his chair, discontent.

Nendo wanted to think of more to say, but no words were coming to him. He didn’t have time to say anything else, though, before a knock sounded on the door.

“Yes, what is it?” called Darian haughtily from his chair, resting his chin on one hand.

“M-my lord—” It was Cura’s voice. “My lord, Lord Masudo has arrived…”

“Masudo?” Darian twitched as if trying to dispel a fly. “Oh, marvelous. Tell him to wait.”

“He s-says he wants to meet with you immediately,” stammered Cura. “In…in private.”

“Is that so?” Darian sighed and shook his head, before standing and striding towards the door. Nendo remained in his seat, unsure what to do, watching as Darian slid the door open to speak to Cura. They whispered together for some time, putting their heads together to block the sound from Nendo. Nendo observed their clandestine whispering, frowning; he didn’t like secrets.

“Very well, then,” said Darian in a normal tone, straightening and smoothing down the front of his shirt. “You—you’re dismissed. Come to the same place, same time, when I send you a summons.” Nendo blinked when Darian pointed straight at him.

“Um, yes, my lord,” said Nendo quickly, standing up and ducking into a bow. Darian stood aside from the door to let him exit, as did Cura; as he left the room, he cast her a brief glance that she did not return: she seemed to have become immersed in the floor.

Darian, however, never removed his eyes from Nendo, clearly expecting Nendo to leave the general vicinity as quickly as possible. Nendo felt that with Darian’s eyes burning holes in the back of his head, it wouldn’t be wise to hang around, so he trotted to the nearest staircase and began taking the stairs two at a time until he reached a landing.

When he reached the landing, though, instead of continuing down, he stopped and turned so he was staring up the stairs. Then, his steps slow and hesitant, trying not to raise noise against the polished wood stairs, he began to scale the staircase again.

He knew that he was being an idiot, and Darian would probably punish him if he caught Nendo snooping into his private business. But he couldn’t fight against the powerful curiosity that had risen within him: not the all-encompassing, awe-stricken sort of curiosity he’d felt earlier when talking with Darian about other words; a curiosity that was sharper and honed to a single point, a single question.

What was Masudo up to?

After all, the last time Nendo had seen Masudo had been a week ago when the time mage first dragged Nendo into the mirror-lined halls of Miria Manor. Since then, Nendo hadn’t been any closer to discerning the exact nature of Masudo’s relation with Darian. Cura had said they were friends, but the way they behaved suggested less like they were friends who liked coming over for some chit-chat and company but more like co-conspirators. Plotters who whispered secrets to each other from behind closed doors…

Nendo wanted to find out more. He wanted to know why Masudo, one of the only surrounding time mages, had taken Nendo to Lord Darian’s manor in the first place. He wanted to know what both noblemen were planning for him. So, taking a deep breath, Nendo arrived on the top floor again, before skirting to the wall for a hiding place. He found one behind a tall islander vase that he suspected was large enough to easily fit his entire body in it; he didn’t have time, though, to test that so he settled for squeezing into the space between the vase and the wall. It was a tight fit, especially with the way Nendo had gained flesh during his week in Miria Manor, but he managed to cram himself into the small, dark, space just as he heard the drift of voices and saw Cura and Darian walking past, conversing intently with each other. They didn’t spare the vase a single glance.

They turned the corner and disappeared down the staircase. Nendo counted to ten until their footsteps sounded a safe distance away, and tore himself free of his hiding space to furtively creep down the stairs after them, hugging to the walls and taking care to make as little noise as possible. His heart felt stuck in his throat but he told himself it was all right, he was a master at sneaking around. He’d find what he wanted without getting caught.

~*~

The twin wooden doors that Nendo had stopped in front of appeared to lead into a bedroom; if the glimpse he’d caught before the doors slammed shut was any indication. After Nendo was sure the doors were secretly shut—and locked—he crept to the wall beside it, leaning against it, pricking his ears for the sounds of conversation.

He didn’t worry about being caught. This was a suite on the second floor from which most servants were forbidden except maidservants and Cura; the maidservant didn’t clean this suite until the afternoon, and Cura had departed after shutting the doors behind her.

At the moment, Nendo couldn’t really hear anything above the clinking of glasses—it seemed Masudo was pouring wine. He could make out pieces of what the time mage was saying, though.

“—been quite some time, did you miss me?”

A particularly loud clink, as if a wine glass had been set firmly on to a table, obscured Darian’s reply. Whatever Darian had said, Masudo must’ve found it amusing because he unleashed a low, deep chuckle.

“By the way, how is everything? With Nendo?”

Nendo stiffened when he heard his own name, and leaned closer, wanting to hear more.

“He’s all right, I suppose. You didn’t tell me he could cast magic and read, though.”

“He can? I didn’t know that. My, my, I have picked up a real treasure, he might even be—oh, excuse me.”

A sudden burst of tinkling sounds implied Masudo had knocked a glass over. Darian sighed.

“It’s all right, leave it be. Cura will pick it up.”

“Speaking of Nendo…you and him have become quite close, haven’t you?”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” A defensive note slipped into Darian’s voice.

“Nothing, but you are overseeing his education, aren’t you? What were you teaching him?”

“The Story of the Founding,” said Darian. Nendo could picture the young lord scowling, disgust marring his fine features.

“Teaching him the Story! Isn’t it a tad…early? Are you trying to recruit him?”

“Don’t be an idiot, it’s just something he should know…”

Recruit? Nendo trembled inside, wondering what Darian and Masudo were talking about now. As if they were officers for the army, talking about recruiting and training soldiers.

“All the same, my boy, don’t let him get too close.”

“What’s that mean?” There was a definite defensive note to Darian’s voice now.

“Just that…when you particularly like a servant, you tend to get rather…close…to him. If you understand what I mean…”

Nendo had spent long enough on the streets to discern innuendo; he immediately caught on to Masudo’s double meaning. It stabbed through him like a cold knife of disgust—wasn’t Darian a man?

“Oh, shut up. I suspect you’re already getting tipsy, old man.”

“Hardly, little boy. Now, you, I wonder; can you hold up to me?”

“Of course I am. Unlike you, I have something called stamina.”

“It hardly seems that way, given how you love sleeping until noon.”

“It is called a midday nap, Masudo. It’s only logical in this heat…”

Nendo began to despair of hearing anything interesting; Masudo and Darian were just exchanging banter again. He wondered if he should just leave, when the mention of his own name turned his attention back to the conversation.

“So, this Nendo; you’re becoming quite friendly with him, are you not, boy?”

“Teaching him to read is not the same as becoming friendly…”

“As I recall, the last time also began with you teaching the boy to read. All I’m saying is, use your judgment, boy. Keep yourself aloof from Nendo, unless you actually do want to reveal that to him…”

“Don’t be idiotic, of course I don’t want to. Have some more wine, old man…”

Nendo leaned against the wall, cold sweat standing against the back of his neck and fear pounding like a hammer in his heart. If he hadn’t heard incorrectly…It seemed that he had not been the first boy Masudo had plucked from the streets and placed under Lord Darian’s employ. There had been one another, maybe more, all of whom Darian had educated and then—disposed of? Why? Because they’d found a secret of the lord’s? Something Masudo referred to only as that…

His head swam; he felt dizzy. I have to get out of here, a part of him thought; but another part, stronger, the one that had compelled him to come here in the first place, declared not until I find out what “that” is.

Clearly, whatever secrets Darian was hiding, they had to be important…important enough to be a matter of life or death for his servants.

Nendo leaned closer, wanting to hear more—but the sudden brush of a soft hand on his elbow startled him. He whirled around, heart pounding, surprise singing through his mind, already knowing who he’d see.

Cura stood in front of him, her hand resting on his elbow, her face white with anger, her mouth drawn in a thin line of disapproval. Her normally wide dark eyes narrowed as she squeezed, firmly but not with pain, Nendo’s elbow.

Nendo opened his mouth to say something—to protest—but Cura held a finger to her lips to shush him. He fell quiet, and let the much smaller girl seize him by the forearm and march him out of the suite, her steps quiet against the carpet, fury burning from every atom of her being.

A sick sinking feeling, like someone had dropped a stone in his stomach, began seizing up Nendo’s abdomen: he’d been caught. Caught by Cura, who he’d been well on the way to befriending…now what? What would Cura do to him now?

Cura stopped in the hall outside of the suite, facing him, her face still livid, but not saying anything. Nendo stared down, meeting her gaze, no matter how much the anger flashing in her eyes pained him. Then, she raised a hand and hit him, once, twice; two sharp blows on each side of his face. He felt the brief stinging pain as the slaps connected, and then a terrible dull numbness that was worse.

“Don’t,” was all Cura said, letting loose a long, shuddering exhalation. “Don’t…ever…do that again.”

“Cura…” Nendo held out his hands in front of him, though he didn’t know why he was beseeching her, or for what. When he spoke, wildly seizing on the first thought that floated through his surprise-benumbed mind, he said, “Lord Darian, he’s keeping secrets, isn’t he?”

A strange light flickered in Cura’s eyes for a fraction of a second—something like relief? But it was gone, replaced by the anger. “And? What are his secrets to you?”

“Well…I mean, I’m his servant…don’t you think I have a right to know?” The words tumbled out of his mouth, foolishly; a heat rose in his face as they exited.

“No. You don’t,” retorted Cura, her voice tight and savage. “His Lordship’s secrets are his alone, and I have sworn to keep them.”

“But I—” protested Nendo.

“You haven’t found out anything, yet,” said Cura, striding away from him while shooting him one last, ferocious glare. “I’ll tell you this, Nendo: Don’t try. Please.”

Her voice softened with the last word, but she didn’t look back at him as she exited the suite, her small figure silhouetted in the doorframe for a moment before she strode on ahead and disappeared down the hallway. Nendo watched the open door, a million warring emotions mixing in the pit of his stomach—relief, disappointment, confusion, a sense of loss—before following her.

Maybe she was right when she that Darian’s secrets were his alone, thought Nendo as he hollowly traced Cura’s steps down the hall. But now Nendo knew, at least, that Darian was keeping secrets, and that something much greater was going on, something that involved the tale of Aeta’s founding and the Coalition. Something in which a boy who could resist time magic was integral.

Nendo dug a hand in his pocket again, his fingers brushing against the familiar solidity of the wood scrap. Then, with a breaking sensation in his chest, as if something delicate and made of glass was shattering inside him, he sunk against the walls, his legs refusing to support his weight, his breaths coming in short bursts, before burying his face in his hands.

For the first time since the day he’d been brought to Miria Manor, Nendo found himself wishing that he’d never gotten mixed up in any of this.

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I think everyone can tell I ran out of steam near the end...

The eavesdropping scene is the one which I'm most wary about, and it probably is in need of a rewrite or two (or three). I'm afraid at once of being too vague and revealing too much; since I know perfectly the plot details that Masudo and Darian are discussing, I can't judge for myself which one it is. So yeah, the more comments you can leave in that direction, the better.

I also hope that the explanation behind the relationship between the lost words and the Coalition makes sense. It's actually based on one of Isaac Asimov's theories of space colonization, if you're wondering.

Review away. ^^ The more nit-picky you can get, the better.