The Dark Path (25 page)

"Why do you try so hard to find me?" a soft, almost musical, voice entered his mind.

"I love you. I promised to keep you safe and I failed. I will not rest until you are back and safe, even if it kills me," he responded, though how his words were understood he knew not, for his lips had been burned off it seemed days ago.

"It will kill you. I still love you, but to see you hurt yourself so, I cannot stand it." The figure turned quickly to one side. "He's coming! You must go. He'll destroy you."

"No. I will not leave you!" His burnt hands clasped hers tightly.

"You cannot face him. You know that. Maybe someday, but you are too weak now. Go, quickly, and remember that I will always love you." She pulled her hands from his, then turned and escaped down the long hall away from him. As she left the room the dark shapes instantly attacked him and his shield failed within seconds. He felt cold, lifeless hands rip into his flesh and his screams burst forth anew. Blackness washed over him.

He opened his eyes to find himself sitting up in bed, a horrible scream coming from somewhere. It took him a few seconds to realize the screams were coming from him. He stopped himself and took a deep breath. How long had it taken him to get to her this time? A few hours had passed it seemed. The Schola's dormitory was dark and no candles glowed in the halls, though the sky outside had begun to lighten slightly. Gen swung his legs out over the side of the bed and walked to the water pitcher. He poured himself a glass and gulped it down quickly. Then he looked at the cup and frowned. Why was he thirsty? He looked down at a silver ring upon his right index finger. It was tarnished a deep black and looked about to break into pieces. He grumbled and pulled the worthless ring off and threw it into a dark corner in the small room. His stomach rumbled at him and he sighed. How long had it been since he had last needed to eat? Years it seemed. He opened the iron bound door to the small room and walked out into the hall. He walked slowly down the hall and turned to the right when the hall divided at the end. His mind returned to the sight of Meeka running from him. He arrived at the double doors of the mess hall a moment later. He opened the door on his left and entered a large room. Old wooden beams sat exposed above him. They were always polished to a shine. A warm fire roared at one end of the room though its heat wasn't much needed. He walked past the eight long tables that filled the center of the room and opened the small door at the back leading to the kitchen. A small girl of around six years of age sat peeling potatoes in a battered wooden chair beside the door. She wore tattered peach robes that were stained in various spots. She didn't look up when the door opened.

"Hello?" he called toward the back of the kitchen.

"Nothing's ready yet. Come back at morning meal," a voice came from the back of the kitchen near where the big stone ovens were. The child looked up from peeling and her eyes went wide. She got up and ran back in the direction that the voice had come from and Gen could hear a whisper.

"Is that so? Well I don't care if its the master of light himself, I'm busy here and he can eat when everyone else does." The voice, not even near a whisper, reached him easily. Gen smiled a bit and walked back to the stoves. A woman stood there putting dough on sheets that went into the oven. The baking bread smelled good, and his stomach rumbled again loud enough that the cook heard it. She turned around and Gen felt a tug at his heart. She had red-brown hair and fair skin. Freckles covered her cheeks and went across the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were a deep brown. After first glance, Gen could see that she didn't really look like Meeka. She was attractive, but he knew his heart had responded to her hair color and the thought of Meeka more than to her. She blushed slightly and Gen realized he had been standing there quietly staring at the cook. He smiled a bit and bowed deeply, with all the courtly etiquette he had picked up in his journeys.

"My most lovely, and brilliant cook, I beg you humbly. Do you have some small amount of food that a poor, rude man such as myself may partake of? I have not eaten for years and I find that my stomach protests such ill treatment." He finally straightened from the deep bow and met her deep brown eyes with his ice blue ones. She laughed a bit and then turned to a basket and withdrew a loaf of freshly baked bread. She handed it to him. Gen took the bread and bowed low once more. "You are most gracious and wise. I thank you and my stomach thanks you. May your days be filled with joy and your friends always true." When he straightened from his bow, he winked at the red-haired cook and dropped the courtly manners as he ripped a big bite off the loaf of bread. The loaf, about the size of his forearm, was gone quickly and he looked around for a drink.

"I suppose you want something to drink as well? You men! All you do is take!" she exclaimed in jest. She then turned to the young girl. "Go and get this young beggar something to drink." The little girl ran off and nearly knocked over a stack of dishes in her haste.

"I'm afraid I didn't catch your name," the cook asked as she went back to putting dough on the sheets and the sheets into the oven.

"Gen Hothman. It's a pleasure to meet you." He bowed again, though this time only slightly and with respect. "Might I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

"Mina," she responded and extended a hand covered in flour. Gen took her hand and kissed the top of it, ignoring the flour. She blushed deeply this time and quickly retrieved her hand.

"I haven't seen you here before, yet you wear the robes of a mage. Where are you from?" she asked as she waved toward a chair set back a bit from the stove. "Sit down."

"I'm from everywhere it seems." He chuckled. "I left this Schola seven years ago on a quest of sorts." He sat down in the offered chair and the small girl returned carrying a bottle and an old earthenware cup. She handed them to him and he nodded his thanks before she went back to peeling the potatoes. He uncorked the bottle and the faint smell of cranberries wafted up from it. He poured the dark red liquid into the cup and placed the cork back in the bottle. He took a small sip. It was bitter but good.

"So why are you in my kitchen so early? You could have waited to eat with everyone else. Don't get me wrong. I enjoy the company. The gods know that no one else comes to visit." She laughed a bit.

"I wasn't joking when I said I hadn't eaten for years. I acquired a ring a few years ago that gave me all the nourishment my body needed. It....stopped working this morning, and I found that my stomach was more than just empty." He laughed. "I had forgotten that food and drink could be enjoyable. The bread was very good."

"This is all just so new to me." She shook her head a bit and mumbled about rings and not having to eat. "I came here about six years ago after I had Alisha there." She waved to the small child. "Her father left much to be desired and the last time he hit me, I just responded with something. It flew out of me, this darkness, and he began to choke to death. The darkness stopped just before he passed out though and he ran out of the house screaming “witch”. I gathered Alisha and ran. Later, I found out about this place and came here. They have shown me what gifts I have and it seems my daughter has as well. Enough about me though. Tell me about this quest of yours."

"I would rather not talk about it." He looked at her cream colored robes. Had he even worn that color? He shook his head. "So what is on the menu for breakfast?"

"Well most mornings it's eggs, bacon and biscuits. Today though, I made some noodles and soup. I like to shake em up a bit every now and then." She winked.

"Sounds good. I look forward to it. Thank you again for the bread and the juice." He stood up. May I take the bottle with me?"

"You don't have to leave so soon. I can always use some help around here. The Headmaster keeps telling me he'll send someone else to help but he never does. Go ahead and take the bottle. There's plenty more. Whole cellar is full of bottles. Gods know how long they been there."

"What can I do to help out before I go? I feel a bit guilty eating for free." Gen grinned.

"You could clean up here a bit. If you really feel the need to do something, there's always dishes that need done." She laughed a bit. "You don't have to do anything though. It was payment enough to have someone to talk to." She looked down a bit. "The people in my classes are all children. Sometimes I feel some of the other students laugh at me, but this stuff isn't easy. That's why I told the master I would work in the kitchen when the last cook left. It keeps me away from most of the people and keeps me busy enough not to think too much," she shrugged, then laughed. "You must be easy to talk to. I have no idea why I'm telling you all this. I doubt you want to hear it." Her eyes didn't meet his.

"Actually, I find it all interesting. I'm glad you feel you can talk to me. I'm so used to people either trying to kill me or running in fear from me.” He laughed. “Its refreshing to just have normal conversation for once. I'll do the dishes for you if you'll keep talking. I could use the manual labor and the company."

"That sounds like a great idea. Let me just get this last sheet in the oven and I'll help." She went back to putting the dough on the sheet, placed it into the large brick oven, and slid shut the steel edged clay door. "Those will take a while to cook. The sink is over here." She motioned and walked back toward the front of the kitchen. She turned a corner and walked back over to the sink that had dishes stacked upon the floor to near waist height. Gen gave the dishes a wide eyed look. There were so many. She caught his look and laughed. "There always seems to be more dirty ones than I can keep up with. Alisha is too small to help with them much but she does what she can." She reached down and picked up a couple of buckets and handed them to Gen. "Will you go fill these up with water? I'll start sorting the dishes while you go." Gen took the buckets and walked out the back of the kitchen through the dim morning light and to the pump. He filled up the buckets and was halfway back when he remembered the crow temple he had attended, it seemed a life time ago, and the water pipes they had in each room. He should try to make such a setup for Mina in the kitchen. It would save a lot of work and maybe keep the dishes cleaner. He was thinking about how to go about hooking up that kind of pipework when he got back to the kitchen. Mina walked over and took one of the buckets from him and poured it into the sink. "Set the other one over there." She pointed to the floor on her right.

"Let me do them, Mina," Gen said as he walked back over to the sink. "As I said, I think the work will do me some good."

"If you must." She shook her head. "I'll go get a chair and peel some potatoes while you do the dishes. That way we can chat some more." She laughed. "Don't run off!" Gen shook his head as she walked back to get a chair. He pulled his arms out of the sleeves of his robes and tied the top half down around his waist so the big sleeves wouldn't get in the way. He began washing the first dish when he heard a sound of something break behind him. He turned quickly to see Mina standing there, a broken bowl that had once held potatoes on the floor in front of her, still holding a chair in her left hand. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open a bit. Then suddenly, she ran to him and looked at him with concern across her face.

"What is it? What?" he asked at her odd behavior.

"What happened to you?" She started to reach up to his chest then stopped and brought her hand back down. Gen reigned in a groan.
How could he have forgotten about his scars?
He shook his head a bit.

"It's been a rough life," he shrugged and walked over to fix the broken bowl.

"Are those lash marks on your back?" she asked. He felt her warm fingers upon his back as they traced along one of the bigger scars. He found that he liked the feeling of her touch. That bothered him more than a bit.

"Yes," he said. He chanted a single word of magic and the bowl pulled itself back together. He put the potatoes back into it and placed it upon the chair she had brought, then walked back over to the sink. He didn't look at Mina, just went back to cleaning the first dish.

"I thought I had it rough when Harold used to beat me black and blue." She shook her head. "What happened to you?" she asked again.

"The whip marks?" he asked.

"No. Everything. What made you have to go through all of whatever caused those?" She pointed to his scars.

"The whip marks are from Eremian soldiers. I was captured and enslaved shortly after I landed in Artoria." He was silent after that and placed the clean dish on the counter to his right, then began to scrub the second.

"Those aren't all from a whip, and you didn't answer my question," Mina stated. She had sat down and was peeling the potatoes but her eyes remained on Gen's scar crossed back.

"Love...I've been through all this for love," he stated. Tears welled up in his eyes a bit.
Why did he say that? He hadn't meant to say that.

"She must be a goddess to be worth going through that," Mina said with a bitter tone.

"Would you like to see her?" he asked.
What was he doing? This all seemed wrong.

"Do you have a painting?" she asked.

"Something like that." He grinned a bit. He finished cleaning the other dish and put it on the pile then he turned around and faced her. He moved his hands quickly through the air in a series of movements that seemed random but precisely controlled. His deep baritone softly began to sing the enchantment. The light in the kitchen from the many candles seemed to dim and flow into the room between them. Slowly, a form began to grow out of the light. The shape finally pulled together and a translucent image of Meeka stood between Gen and Mina, facing Mina. He walked around to look at his work and see how well it had come out. He hadn't done this spell in a long time, since it had grown too painful. The image was animated. Meeka wore a smile of pure joy and warmth. She wore robes of deep green and a slight breeze seemed to blow her long red-brown hair back. The deep green of her eyes flashed when she blinked.