The wingless king, p.19
The Wingless King, page 19
It didn’t matter what they said because, truthfully, Seren hated himself too. Aiden wasn’t his father, but he was the closest thing he had to one. He had allowed himself to care about his opinion of him, and it made him feel pathetic. How many days on end had he spent trying to please him? How many times had he been the first person Seren had run to when something excited him or brought him joy? And countless times, it seemed Seren disappointed him. Over and over again. At first, it hurt. It had left Seren with a hollow, empty feeling. But then it changed to anger and soon molded into self-disgust.
“Are you going to answer me, Seren?”
Seren surrendered to defeat. The lifeless form was nestled in his pocket, its body still emitting a remnant of warmth. “It was the birds,” he muttered.
“Can you elaborate?” Aiden said, annoyance coating his tone.
Seren reached out and pulled out the dove. He had already yanked the bolt out of its chest but hadn’t known his actions would quicken its death. The alabaster chest of the bird was stained as if a red rose had bloomed from its breast.
“He was shooting at the birds for fun,” Seren explained bitterly. “But justice is a foreign concept in this place. Forgiveness is handed out so freely.” His anger boiled over, and he slammed his fist on the table. “What was the point of speaking up? So you could get a meaningless confession out of him?” Seren faced Aiden. “What’s the point?”
Aiden reached toward the bird, taking it from Seren. He gingerly cradled the lifeless bird in his cupped hands. “It still has life,” he said. “Not much, but perhaps just enough.”
He waved a hand over it, murmuring a prayer. Its eyes shot open. In a panic, it flapped its wings in one last attempt at survival before crashing onto the floor.
“You could’ve saved it,” Seren said, staring at its limp form.
He wanted to blame Aiden. Truthfully, he wished to blame him for many things.
“Perhaps, but maybe this is a good lesson for you.”
“A lesson?” Seren scoffed. “What about the jerk who killed it?”
“Its fate was sealed. That is the way of life. It is not my place to bend the laws of nature to seek a future that I see fit.”
“Fate,” Seren mocked.
What a load of garbage. Fate this. Fate that. It was always about his fate. Aiden was wrong, and Seren intended to demonstrate just how wrong he was. Seren stared at his bloodied knuckles and couldn’t deny the satisfaction he had felt pounding the boy’s face. He had tormented innocent birds for weeks, treating it as some twisted game.
Seren thought of the bloodied white feathers that had littered the cobblestone. The monster had been smiling. Seren didn’t hesitate. He hit him again and again. He didn’t stop until Enid pulled him off the boy, sobbing as she did. The boy had held his crooked nose and cried for his mother.
“I did what I felt needed to be done. I’m sure he’ll think about it twice now,” Seren said. He stood up and reached down to pick up the bird, the body now cold. “Nobody was going to punish him. He got what he deserved.”
Seren’s face burned with the sting of Aiden’s sudden slap as he stood over him.
“It is not our place to cast judgment upon others, Seren. It is that of the Trinity. Are you learning nothing in your classes?” Aiden said sharply. “It is essential for you to understand the significance of refraining from making judgments and taking matters into your own hands.”
“I have learned,” Seren replied harshly. “The Sacred Trinity of Light. The sun, the moon, and the stars.”
What kind of question was that? It was all he learned. It was his entire life. Seren had been promised friends and connections outside of his miserable room. Instead, he was spending hours upon hours reciting sacred laws that Saints and Priests learned. He wasn’t going to be a Priest or a Saint, so why did it matter? The knowledge he was instructed to study was far more tedious than that of the other children. Seren was exhausted.
“It is more than who they are, Seren. Light is what guides us. When you do these things, you surrender to humanity’s darkness,” Aiden said coldly.
“I don’t see why what I do matters so much to you,” Seren mumbled. “You’re not my father.”
Aiden’s jaw tightened. “You must come to understand the importance of forgiveness. You cannot afford to harbor even a trace of hatred in your heart.”
“I don’t understand,” Seren said with disgust. “You told me that the Gods created us in their image. So, why do people go out of their way to kill? You can’t simply blame it on the Devil. The Gods granted us free will. You told me that.”
“You’re too young to understand,” Aiden said.
That was always his response when Seren questioned anything. He was too naive. Someday, he would understand. Seren was expected to keep his mouth shut and believe every word that he was taught. He was never to question anything.
“And what if you’re wrong,” Seren whispered. “And I am not special?”
Aiden was taken aback, confusion written on his face. He opened his mouth to respond, but Seren didn’t let him speak.
“And all this talk of forgiveness is getting old. You can’t even forgive my mother. She’s kept secrets from the both of us, and you know it. Where does she even go?” Seren asked. “Do you even know?”
“I forgave her long ago,” Aiden replied. “I trust her completely.”
But they both knew the truth. Even for the purist he was, Aiden would always lie for her. She was the only one who could bring him knee-deep, bathing in his sins. Did he think Seren was blind to it all?
“Seren,” Aiden murmured, reaching for Seren’s hands. “You have no choice. It is your destiny. You cannot fall victim to the flaws of humankind. Failing is not a luxury you are permitted.”
Seren shrank from his touch. That’s all it had ever been from him and his mother. They demanded perfection. But he couldn’t give it to them.
Seren awoke abruptly, feeling a sharp jab against his side. Startled, he found himself face-to-face with a young, scrawny girl, her curly hair and sienna skin dirtied. She appeared no older than fourteen.
“You can’t sleep here,” she declared. The girl withdrew her pitchfork and planted it firmly into the hay by Seren’s side. “My daddy won’t be happy to find two outsiders snoozing alongside the horses. It’d be best to leave before he catches sight of you.”
Jude stirred beside Seren, his tousled hair full of pieces of hay.
“Sorry,” Seren apologized. “We’ll leave right away.”
He gently guided Jude upright, but Jude stumbled. His leg appeared to be in even worse condition than before. The girl’s eyes widened with fascination.
“Wow,” she breathed, hardly able to hide her awe. “That’s exquisite craftsmanship. May I...?” The girl’s hand reached tentatively toward Jude’s leg.
“Be my guest,” Jude responded, awkwardly adjusting his stance. “Unfortunately, it’s not functioning properly at the moment.”
She delicately traced the exposed metal with a look of wonder. She glanced over her shoulder. “Come with me,” she urged. “I can help you.”
Jude and Seren exchanged glances, unsure what to make of the situation. Yet something in the girl’s demeanor compelled them to follow her. Guiding them around the stables, the girl led them down a path where the scent of manure lingered in the air. As they followed her, they arrived at a rustic farmhouse, its worn-out appearance a testament to years of use and weathering.
Chickens greeted them as they arrived, their heads turning to acknowledge their intrusion. The girl explained that her father was currently away, motioning for them to follow her toward the house. They stepped inside, and chaos greeted them. Dirty bowls cluttered the sink, and the floor bore the marks of muddy footprints. Guiding them through the house, the girl finally halted near a narrow staircase that descended into darkness.
“Be careful on the steps,” she warned.
Jude and Seren cautiously walked down the stairs, accompanied by the faint clicking noise of Jude’s leg. The girl reached into her dress pocket, revealing a key that she inserted into the door at the bottom of the steps. She swung the door open with a quick twist, unveiling a room bathed in a soft glow.
The room was a sight to behold, filled with an assortment of tech pieces scattered about. A worn desk, covered in tangled cables and wires, dominated the center. Resting atop the desk was a cracked Holographus, appearing like nothing more than a blank slate of glass. On the shelves, meticulously drawn diagrams of exclusive mechamobiles found only in the Godless City were displayed.
The girl motioned to a worn wooden chair. “If you’d like to take a seat, I can help mend your leg.”
Jude did as he was told, sitting down while the girl swept the table clean. He watched her with curiosity as she pulled out various tools from under the desk.
“So, kid, why do you have all this stuff?” Jude asked.
“My name is Anna,” the girl corrected him. She paused as she lifted Jude’s leg to study it. “And my dad brings it home from his travels. He does it because he knows I want to be a Technophage someday.”
“They’re the ones who cast false magic, aren’t they?” Seren asked.
Anna slammed her fist on the table. “Why does it matter where the magic comes from? Isn’t it better than selling your soul to a demon? At this rate, a Technophage is more likely to find a way to prevent the Veil from continuing to open than a Priest or a Saint.”
Jude’s eyebrows furrowed. “You both could get in a lot of trouble for this,” he mentioned, his voice filled with caution. “The Disciples of Servius hate the Godless City.”
Anna paused, her grip tightening on the tool in her hand. “You think we don’t know that?” she snapped. “Once we have enough money, we’re leaving Durcova for good. Curse this country and its ridiculous laws.”
Seren leaned against the wall. “I don’t blame you,” he said softly. “My mother was from here. It’s a hard place for a woman to have freedom.”
When Jude’s curious eyes locked with Seren’s, he could sense the unspoken question dancing on his face. It betrayed his deep curiosity about how much of Seren’s memory had returned.
Anna focused for a brief period, removing Jude’s leg just below the knee. He winced as she set it on the table. “Yes,” Anna replied, grabbing another tool. “Women here are blamed for the sins of Eden and must be obedient and subservient. Disciples believe that in doing so, we seek redemption for the sins of the past. Besides, it’s believed that human sin is one of the reasons the Veil became tainted, and the first sin happened to be by a woman.”
Jude chuckled sadly. “Humans always find someone to blame. It is the way of our species.”
Seren couldn’t help but scoff at his words. Jude raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“You don’t deserve their judgment,” Seren muttered.
Anna bowed her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.” Her unwavering brown eyes burned into his. “They killed my mother. My father wasn’t her husband...” Her words trailed off, a mixture of grief and anger clinging to each syllable. “Her husband was cruel and unkind. But she loved my father despite it all. And when I was born... it was clear that I wasn’t his. They publicly executed her and left me as an abandoned infant on my father’s doorstep.” She clenched her fists, the fury within her rising. “I refuse to be a part of this place.”
Jude reached across the table, his hand gently settling upon hers. “The world can be a cruel place,” he murmured. “May your mother rest in peace.”
Turning away, Seren struggled to steady the shake in his hands. “Everyone believes that what they’re doing is right, but how can we ever truly know?” he asked bitterly.
The sound of metal grinding together broke the heavy silence. Anna resumed her work on Jude’s leg with renewed determination. “We don’t,” she replied coldly. “Across the continent, there are different versions of the Adamus and Eden story and beliefs about the Veil. Honestly, I don’t think anyone knows the whole truth, not even when everyone followed all the Gods equally. But I can feel the difference between good and evil in my heart. And what they did to my mother was evil. I don’t care if they claim it was done in the name of Servius. He can go to Hell for all I care. That’s why I’m going to the Godless City. I choose to follow no God.”
No God.
When Seren woke in the Godless City, he was confident that he did not belong there. Why? Had Seren once believed he was better than those who had turned their backs on the Gods? What about Disciples of Servius? Why were they permitted to murder someone and take judgment into their own hands? Aiden’s words rang in his head, “It is not our place to cast judgment upon others, Seren.”
Anna was silent after that, giving all her attention to Jude’s limb. Her nimble hands adjusted and tweaked, her fingers working carefully. Jude and Seren dared not interrupt.
As time passed, Anna couldn’t help but taunt Jude, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “You know,” she said. “If you had taken better care of this, it wouldn’t have failed you.” She continued working, a teasing glint in her eyes.
After an hour of painstaking effort, Anna finally pieced the limb together and reattached it. Jude gingerly rose from his seat, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. Tentatively, he took a step forward, testing the sensation of the reattached limb. A broad grin spread across his face, radiating his joy and relief.
“That’s perfect,” he exclaimed. “Thank you, Anna.”
“The issue was below the knee,” she explained. “Luckily, I didn’t have to tamper with any nerve wiring. If that had been the problem, you would’ve been out of luck.”
Jude frowned. “Then, why did it hurt?”
“Well, when was the last time you had it looked at by a certified Mechamagus?” Anna asked with a frown.
Jude laughed nervously in response. “Good point.”
Anna stretched her arms above her head with a yawn. Her eyes traveled over our dirtied attire.
“You both need a bath and new clothes,” she commented.
“And food,” Jude moaned.
Anna smiled. “Alright,” she said. “I’ll cook you a proper meal and allow you to bathe, but there’s a catch–you have to work for it. Plus, you owe me one anyway for helping you.” Her hands found their place on her hips as she laid out the conditions. “Have either of you ever worked on a farm before?”
The next several hours tested their endurance as Jude and Seren toiled under the scorching sun. While Jude claimed to have experience in farming, he guided Seren through each task they were assigned. Their responsibilities ranged from cleaning out the stables and tidying up Anna’s barn to tackling miscellaneous chores like weeding the vegetable gardens and feeding the animals. As the afternoon progressed, Seren’s stomach was also aching with hunger.
Jude’s skin was soaked in sweat, causing his golden hair to stick to his forehead. The muscles in his arms rippled as he effortlessly tossed a bag of chicken feed over his shoulder. Seren followed his lead but grabbed two, anticipating the meal they’d been promised.
“Show off,” Jude teased.
After they fed the chickens, Seren dusted his hands off on his pants. “We did everything she asked,” he said.
Jude smiled, wiping sweat from his brow. “We sure did.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Seren saw Anna waving them over. She brought the two of them glasses of water, and they gratefully accepted her offering, gulping it down.
“There’s my dad,” Anna suddenly exclaimed, pointing past them.
The two of them turned their heads to follow her line of sight down the dusty road.
Approaching on a sand-colored horse was a rugged, middle-aged man. Anna bore a striking resemblance to her father, sharing the same curly hair and complexion. As he drew nearer, a crease formed on his forehead upon seeing two unfamiliar faces standing in front of his home. He brought his horse to a halt and dismounted, eyes sweeping over Jude and Seren.
“Annabeth, who are these strangers?” he asked gruffly. “You two don’t look like you’re from around here.”
Before either of them could muster a response, Anna interjected. “They came desperately, asking for work, Daddy. And we happen to need help around the farm. I promised them a hot meal for their efforts.”
Jude and Seren lowered their heads respectfully, acknowledging her kindness.
“We will be leaving after our meal,” Jude quickly added. “Your daughter has shown us incredible hospitality.”
Anna’s father raised his bushy eyebrows in surprise. “Where will you stay?” he inquired.
“We’ll see where the road takes us,” Jude replied.
The man contemplated his words for a short while. “It’s dangerous to wander Durcova without a sure place to go. Many boys your age have gone missing. Rumor has it that the Sanguine Sisters have been all over the countryside.”
Jude and Seren exchanged glances.
“Come inside,” Anna’s father said. “Let’s have some dinner and get to know each other.”
Anna smiled softly as her dad led the horse to the stables. “Well,” she said. “That went better than expected.”
sixteen
"The pedagogue’s ignorance. The companion’s disloyalty. A downfall of an uprising. Aliferous was he, at the zenith of a perfidious hour."
—the Seer Diaries of Felix Amos
1025 A.E.C.
Lumen’s vision blurred as he coughed up blood, the taste coppery and bitter in his mouth. Each blow that landed across his jaw sent waves of agony through his body, leaving him groaning on the ground. Disoriented, he fought to regain focus, blinking away the daze that enveloped his mind. Lumen moaned in pain, his headache intensifying with every passing moment.
Three bandits hovered over him. One figure stood out among the trio, wearing a necklace made from a collection of human and animal teeth. Clearly, he was the group leader, barking commands at the others.
