Prologue to Stellos

PROLOGUE

AREDEN CASTLE / AKKENIA:

His swords master was staring blankly at the fireplace that had long ago turned to cinders.

He was lost again... Gavin realized as he put the tray of food down on the bedside table. He never quite understood what happened to Abron when he was like that. It wasn't as if he was a particularly complicated man, he wasn't one to get lost in thought. He was just... lost.... He would stare blankly, loosing all sense of self and time for hours. Gavin suspected it would be more if he wasn't there.

Abron was a simple man with a good heart, but a rather despairing nature. A far cry from the moralistic fanatic Gavin had first perceived. He had assumed Abron had taken him in out of some sense of moral obligation. A couple of days were all he needed to realize his mistake at such an assumption. Abron was aware he was in no position to be taking care of anyone. Gavin was unsure how the man survived before he took him in. How he remembered to eat, sleep, anything. It made him wonder if it was him who took in a swordsmaster and not a swordsmaster that took in a boy. The man was both simple and confusing. Abron was not intelligent because he didn't care enough to think too much. In fact, there really wasn't much he did care about. His days were spent as if waiting for eternity to end. It was downright disturbing. Abron was considered one of the best swordsmen in the continent, yet even in that he was indifferent. It was this factor that most irked him. Gavin was beaten black and blue daily in training by a man who was the best at what he did simply because he was, not because he cared enough to be. He had no motivation, no dreams, no goals... nothing. He did not seem real. Gavin would dare to say Abron was like a ghost except there was no evidence to indicate that he was once alive. Even his behavior seemed like a forced performance. His seemingly boisterous personality was too exaggerated to be authentic. Gavin couldn't tell if it was to convince himself of his act or out of a morbid desire to perform a parody. All in all, his swords master was everything his apprentice struggled not to be.

As far back as Gavin could remember he was never still, he was always doing something, planning, thinking, imagining, anything. He had never allowed himself to let go in that way. After he met Abron he had made the attempt, only to feel as if he were being buried alive, falling into a bottomless grave. It made him all the more concerned for Abron's sanity, believing him to be prone to silent fits of depression. Though he didn't fit the self-destructive stereotype, what Abron did was a type of damage. In conclusion; Abron taught while Gavin took care of him.



There was a loud knock at the door, which startled them both out of their respective contemplations. Gavin jumped to open it, only to jump back at the sight of a grown Akeden man standing on the other side. He had never been this close to an Akeden, only catching vague glimpses of them or of the Green Prince when Abron trained him, so Gavin couldn't help but stare intently while the Akeden reciprocated the discourtesy. Neither of them said anything for awhile.

“So you're the one,” the man stated gruffly. If the man wanted to intimidate him... he succeeded, but Gavin refused to let him see it.

“Excuse me?” he asked coldly.

“The lizard apprentice...” The Akeden answered with a cold smile.

“My name is Gavin.” he clarified sternly.

“Hmm....”

They continued to stare. The man was middle-aged. Gavin roughly estimated he was in his late forties. Despite being an Akeden, he did have facial hair, enough to grow a finely trimmed goatee.

“Is there anything I could help you with, Ser?” Gavin asked finally.

The man lifted his eyebrows in surprise as his smile broadened.

“A word with your master, if I may.” he said in a slight mocking tone.

Abron, who had already “woken” from his daze, stood up while beckoning for Gavin to let him in.

His reunion with the Akeden developed in much the same way as Gavin's encounter. Both men stared at each other for a long time, neither of them seemed sure as to how to proceed.

“Would you like tea?” Gavin asked, getting tired of both of them not doing anything.

“No,” The Akeden ordered. “Go out and play.”

Gavin turned to Abron, who nodded. He left the room with a shrug, but stayed behind the door.

“So, who's is he?” the Akeden asked.

“What?” Abron asked

“The boy... this Gavin... whose bastard is he? He's not mine right?”

“I sincerely doubt it, besides, what makes you think I know or care?”

“You've never taken an apprentice. Now you show up with a lizard and expect me not to be a bit suspicious?”

“I have better things to do than to reunite lizards with their dragon progenitors...”

“Better things... like what?”

There was a long silence till Gavin could hear the Akeden sigh.

“Will things ever be alright between us Abron?”

“Depends on what you define as alright.”

“You know what I mean. You used to tell me everything, we were friends.”

“I am still your friend... there's just nothing to tell...”

Again a long silence

“You could start with the boy.” The Akeden piped in gently.

There was a long silence till someone, most likely Abron, sat on a chair and sighed heavily.

“I don't know...” Abron said with a note of fatality in his voice.

“What do you mean you don't know?! Boys aren't flowers, you don't just pick them!”

“It wasn't a whim...”

“Then surely there is something that could be developed into conversation...” The Akeden insisted.

“I hired a large group of mercenaries to transport my gold to Areden and they were poisoned by a gang of thieves.”

Again a long pause

“And!?” the Akeden insisted.

“I had been traveling separately, thinking it would be safer. When finding out that it hadn't had the desired results, I went to take care of the robbers and recuperate my gold. On my way there Shezar scouted and later informed me that the thieves had also been poisoned by a young boy. He had pretended to be the son of the thieves' leader, gained their trust, and poisoned my barrel of Atirian wine... he even seemed to know it was Atirian...”

“So that boy killed them all? That's... disturbing...”

“Quite... he didn't seem to be the least bit troubled when I found him. He killed them as if nothing...”

There was a moment of silence.

“How old is he, anyway?” The Akeden finally asked.

“I don't know, he doesn't seem to know either...”

“Ok then... He sounds like a shapeshifter... and that is not good...”

“No, it isn't. He's also completely covered in scars.”

“Scars?”

“Yeah, scars.”

“What kind? whip scars, burn scars, puncture scars...?”

“They're just cuts, some long, some short, but the type that you would get with a thin blade.”

“What does that mean?” The Akeden asked confused.

“I have no clue. It isn't a method of torture used everyday. There are much more painful methods.”

“Who do you think did it?”

“Aretathian barbarians, Isbabians, changelings... I don't really know, any guess is as good as any.”

“Have you asked?”

“No, he will tell me if he wants to. I won't pressure him. Besides, he doesn't seem to remember.”

“So basically you picked up a traumatized, mutilated amnesiac boy; who can kill in cold blood... Gods... and you expect me not to worry about you!?”

“It’s not like that...”

“Then…?! How is it like!? I mean seriously?! You are actually training him. Do you realize that?”

“Yes...”

“Not that I have anything against him. I am glad he got your gold back and everything. He seems like... an intelligent fellow... but what you are describing to me is a boy with no moral scale whatsoever. This is not a laughing matter, nor is it safe. I don't want sociopaths or murderers trained by one of the best military minds in the continent. I know that you are... you, but … What are you thinking?!”

“As I said... I don't know...”

“Well, you'd better figure it out, quickly. Give me one reason why I should let you keep him?”

There was silence again.

“He loves his dog,” Abron finally commented.

“What?!” the Akeden exclaimed.

“He loves his dog. He treats him with gentleness and kindness, that would make anyone think he is innocent and incapable of sin.”

“That’s nice... for dogs... but we aren't dogs and he is capable of sin. That's the point. It’s nice that he loves nature despite what it did to him, but that won't make me sleep any better at night!”

“You don't understand! You see him as having no moral scale. I have a different view on the matter... He killed the men out of a sense of morality. I think he viewed them as evil...”

“SO!? To be able to detach conscience from killing is no less alarming or dangerous.”

“You see it that way because of your view of death.”

“So you say he sees death as a good thing? Then that would mean he rewarded murderous thieves... it doesn't help your case.”

“No, that's not what I mean... he just doesn't measure death in the same way most people do.”

“And how do you think most people see death then?”

“Well, with a strong reaction: Fear, respect or deliverance, but something. He doesn't measure it in those terms. He just... doesn't seem to care.”

“And what does that make him?”

“A very strange boy...?” Abron quoted hesitatingly

“Yeah, I got that... But there are different types of strange, Abron. I need to know if it’s a safe strange we are dealing with.”

“There is no safe strangeness. And besides, you are not dealing with him. I am. So I suggest you let the matter go.”

“Abron... what makes you think you can order me?”

“Because the boy is not a negotiable asset. I took him in. If you want me to train your boy, you will allow Gavin to stay. I don't make hollow statements Nicolai...”

“Nor I hollow threats... I didn't mean for this to turn into a discussion. I do trust your criteria but you have to give me something more than: ‘He is a strange, scarred, forgetful boy whom I found in the woods, killing bandits’!”

“I can't give you a valid reason.”

The silence that followed the statement was nearly eternal until finally the Akeden sighed.

“Then just assure me... tell me what you can... tell me something!”

“I know that he isn't evil. He doesn't enjoy killing. He just doesn't seem to revere life.”

“And you surmised this because he is nice to a dog?”

“Maybe...”

“Is his apathy for life the reason you took him in?”

“No...”

“Then!?”

“I see myself in him. He reminds me of me. That’s it.”

Gavin could feel the hairs in the back of his neck and arms rise up as he felt himself shiver to the bone. His body was shaking as he took his ear away from the door. Gavin fought to control the gnawing feeling of anguish that had settled in his stomach. He got up quickly and walked away, wanting to run, wanting to scream, wanting to break the door open and make the King of Akenia apologize, and the greatest swords master of the continent take his statement back. But the damage was done, and he knew the statement would haunt him for years.