On Bated Breath We Wait

Chapter 6 (part 1)

From a young age my parents have always been sporadic, with one of them being around but never both. I accredit it to their jobs an envoys, but they would like to suggest otherwise. It was around the time I turned four that my life and theirs changed, and while my memories from that time are few what happened back then shaped my life.

It was because a family friend had given birth, born to this world as Duran Kelt, he was the first of whom my parent swore to protect and the first boy I fell in love with. My love for him was that of an older sister’s, while his mother recovered from the birth my mother and I would spend day and night tending to her and Duran. Only after she recovered did my mother begin to teach me, what it meant to protect someone. Her methods at first were subtle as they were simple tasks most of which were me assisting her by carrying something and keeping up with her.

Several months later did another family friend give birth, Nikos Laury. My mother and I worked tirelessly to to save his mother but she ended up passing away, and while my mother wouldn’t tell me what caused her death she made it clear that it wasn’t our fault. It was after that, in which my mother had to do her duties as an envoy and my father would watch over me for the time being. Unlike my mother, my father spent all hours of the day with me. Daddy’s little girl he would call me, he would end up teaching me many of things about his job and the Temple. From how to clean his equipment, to how to pace myself while running; everything we did was focused and made about me. By the time my mother returned, I had grown significantly; the tasks I used to assist her with were easy.

It was about the time I was six, both of my parents sat me down and asked me if I wanted to do what they did. I idolized them and saw them as heroes, thus I agreed and my parents opened my eyes to the world. At first it was little things, things that would normally go unnoticed. But as they showed me more, the more obvious everything became.

One of the first things that they showed me was what was might lie in the darkness. Using the guise of helping cleaning a room, my parents and I set up a series of mirrors so we could reflect light down a few hallways so we could illuminate the room we were going to clean. But as we were about to turn the final corner they stopped. Quietly, they explained where to look as we turned the corner, “Meryl, honey. Look up at the ceiling down the hall when we turn the corner. Don’t be afraid and remember… Seeing is believing and believing is seeing.” As we stepped around the corner my father held a large mirror reflecting light down the hallway, and as I looked up I saw them. Creatures made up of shadow, humanoid in shape with elongated hands and fingers. They hissed as the sunlight bounced off the mirror and they disappeared like they were never there. My parents called them Shadows, but frequently they referred to them as unwanted eyes and ears. I was quickly taught that they are not to be feared but also not to be trusted, as for someone that isn’t aware of their existence secrets might be said right in from of them. But light isn’t something so easily transported around the hallways of the Temple and the deeper you go inside the Temple the more Shadows there are. Over the next several years they slowly introduced me to stranger things, none as scary as the Shadows.

The next major change in my life wouldn’t happen until I was thirteen. My parents had arranged it so neither of them would be away on an envoy trip, secretly they planned out a large birthday party to celebrate. Friends and family had shown up for the party, it was a joyous time; the party ended up lasting way into the night and as my father carried me back home he asked, “Meryl, do you still want to be like us?” Tired and nearly falling asleep I reminded them of everything they had show and taught me. I could hear the weariness in his voice as he replied, “Ok, honey. Rest up today. Tomorrow is going to be difficult.” If he said anything else after that I do not remember, as he later told me I had fallen asleep.

He wasn’t lying. the next day was difficult; they explained to me what it took to be an envoy and started to teach me the physical side of it. After only a few hours of them teaching me was I exhausted, and then they pulled out my worst enemy. It was a book, old and heavily worn its spine and cover no longer beared a title nor any details. Each chapter, no each page became my teacher. From dawn to dinner I would have mother or father training me, and from dinner till I fell asleep I learned from that book. Each following day I was quizzed on what I have had read; sometimes the questions were about what I read last night, other times it was about something I read days or weeks earlier. The topics ranged from botany, business, hand to hand combat and more. By the time I had finished the book a few months had gone by and I was ready for the next step, application.

Application of what I had learned was difficult to manage as I was still too young to become an envoy. But with the help of a former elder, my parents were able to create a job for me to put my skills to use. In writing and to the other elders my job was this, I was to assist and aid researchers in their day to day lives. Mundane tasks like checking up on their wellbeing and getting them materials for their research became the norm. But as I took care of the researchers I was to learn everything I could about them, including their work. Some researchers conducted very boring and normal studies, studies that when concluded directly helped the Temple or its people. Other researchers dabbled in various sciences that could possible harm themselves or others. It was those researchers I had to keep my eye on; and if I thought they were about to do the unthinkable, I was to either stop them if I had the chance or report them to either my parents, Nathan(former elder), or the Elders.

That job became the norm and no one suspected anything until I was asked by the same former elder to keep an eye on Donahugh Laury. While he knew me well, as I had been friends with his son Nikos for years now, that didn’t translate to trust. His work around the Temple was well known but his research was known by none. Even his former researcher coworkers did not know what his current research was about. It was only by chance, or rather luck did I gain his trust. It took place in the hallways near his research room. I thought I was alone, as it was before the c***k of dawn. Through my many years of training, I could sense when the Shadows were nearby and under my breath I said, “Get lost Shadows.” Even to this day I thought I had said it so quietly no one could hear me; but within moments Donahugh had popped his head out of his room and asked me to come in. What followed was Donahugh asking what I had said, how did I know about them, how did I know they were there, etc.

I tried to dodge all of his questions and I believed I did until he uttered the words, “Fine, I’ll ask your parents.” I agreed, and told him that he would get a better explanation to his questions from one of them rather than me. His eyes lit up, “So you do know,” he exclaimed. My stupidity, and fear of getting caught exposed me. He saw my regret and added, “I’ll asked them and not mention you. But in return you have to help me with my research,” and thus a deal was struck. It was my father that he ended up having a conversation with. While my dad told me that I wouldn’t need to worry about what Donahugh asked about, he reassured me that Donahugh was someone we could trust. Tasks from Donahugh were rare but he loved to talk about his work, it’s surprising that he managed to keep his research a secret. by improving the Temple, Donahugh had gained the trust and respect of everyone in the Temple and with that formed the perfect guise so he could be able to investigate anything and everything he found strange.

After a few conversions with him, I started asking my parents about the thing he mentioned, and every time their answer was the same. They would pull out a book and began to explain in crude detail, but as I questioned more and more they finally admitted everything Donahugh and now I asked about was magic or magic related. I had always known magic existed, how else would you explain the Shadows or some of the other things they had taught me over the years. But them finally admitting it existed outright was strange, they had me promise never to mention that it existed to anyone even if they also could prove it existed. I wanted to asked about it more but they stopped me, and said that would teach me magic after my eighteenth birthday their reasoning being a child’s body wasn’t ready from the strain of magic.

My eighteenth birthday couldn’t come soon enough, but it was still about two years away. Luckily for me I could spend my time working, while also training in whatever my parents were willing to teach me. For the next few months, my mother had the great idea to start teaching me how to fight via sparing, and I can say she doesn’t hold back. When we first started, for weeks I was cover in bruises, but I was starting to get a hang of it. In the mornings I spent my time looking after researchers, and normally some time in the mid afternoon I would spar with my mother.

It was fun, enjoyable even, but then it was time for my mother to leave on an envoy trip. It was going to be me and my father for a while. He isn’t as okay with violence as my mother, when I brought up the subject of sparring with him he instantly shutdown the idea. Little did I know the idea of sparring with my mother gave him an idea. Rather than deny me training with the approval of the elders, my father was able to set up a weekly sparing group. Everyone in the Temple was welcome to join and also welcome to watch.

The first few weeks not a lot of people came, it was only with help of a little coin did the group really grow. Both the promise of a payout to the winner of sparing match, and opportunity to place bets on the combatants helped a lot. The average group of people willing to spar were the Temple’s builders and farmers, but every now and then someone unexpected would show to spar. From the founding of the group I sparred each time I could. I was quickly making a name for myself. Soon progressively stronger people showed up just to get a chance to spar with me; to limit the danger to myself the amount of times I would get to spar per week drastically dropped.

I found myself the talk the Temple the day after each weekly group, but after one particular week I almost got in severe trouble. Several people pooled their coin together and paid the blacksmith, Wulfric Ghortash, to come inside and have a match with me. I was overwhelmed by his size and strength, every blow I took knocked me back. It was mid fight, he had punched my shoulder so hard I stumbled backwards. As I stepped forward to return the punch I found myself dropping to one knee, and with all of my strength my fist connected with the side of knee. Instantly, he collapsed to the ground and I was declared the winner. Guilt washed over me and I walked over to see how he was doing, and to make sure that his leg was fine. Several of the Temple’s healers were already looking at his knee, and as he stood up they shouted, “He walks!” I could tell he was in a bit of pain. Thankfully I later learned that I had only badly bruised his knee. The next day I was asked constantly if I really beat Ghortash in a sparring match, and each time I replied that I only got a luck hit in and won. Rumors quickly spread about the match, and as the day went on they quickly became lies. Eventually even the elders came to ask me about the match, I told them what really happened, only to get glances of disbelieve. Through the brilliant idea of my father did the rumors stop; next week I was to fight an envoy member.

With each passing day leading up to the fight I worried more. Who would I be fighting? What would happen if I win? What if I lost? By the time it was the day of the next sparring group I was a nervous wreck. Who I was fighting had been kept secret, and the location of the sparring group had changed no longer were we in a backroom of the Temple, this time we were in the mess hall. The tables had mostly been cleared out except for four tables that were now on their sides with the tables tops forming a square. As the mess hall filled with both watchers and fighters, I watched the main entrance so see who I was going to be fighting. The matches started, sparring match after match my eyes stayed glued to the entrance, but no one else came in. As an elder started to shout, “Now for the match you all have been waiting for…” I stood up and made my way to one of the corners of the sparring area. The crowd cheered as I stepped into area, and from the opposite corner stepped out a figure I hadn’t noticed in the mess hall. The wore a cloak from head to toe, it was only when the elder shouted, “And let’s began,” did their cloak drop to the ground reveal who it was. It was Duran’s mother, Roxie Kelt; her hair tied into a bun, she wore tight clothing showing off her form. Even before her cloak finished falling to the ground she had closed the distance between us. It was then that I realized our skill difference. With one punch to my jaw she knocked me to the ground, something in me wanted me to stay down but my pride wouldn’t let me. As I stood up, she leaped from the ground to the edge of one of the tables. Again this time backflipping in the air just to land right on top of me, I collapsed to the floor my head smacked the ground. She stepped back, now woozy I struggled to stand up. As I regained my balance she stuck out a hand only to curled her fingers back, egging me on as if saying, “Come on.” I felt anger then like I had never before, I was blinded by it. Within a few steps I was at a full sprint, my fist clench ready to punch her with all my might. She quickly reacted and stepped completely into the corner of the sparring area. As I was about to throw my punch, I noticed again I was dropping to one knee. In that moment I was distracted, and my eyes were focused on her lower half. As I swung to punch her knee she jumped with incredible speed completely dodging while my fist hit the table with a large cracking sound. We both thought the match was over and that a broke my hand.

As the healers rushed over and began to check out my hand did I hear someone shout, “She didn’t break her hand. Check this out,” as they flipped the table to show the opposite side. It was falling apart, only splinters remained of that section of the table. The crowd cheered and started to chant, “Let them fight.”

As everyone cleared out of the sparring area our eyes met, I could tell she wanted to end it. The fight began again and within a blink of an eye she was a breath away. She grabbed my throat, while stepping around me. As her foot landed behind mine, she used her momentum to simultaneously trip me while also throwing me to the ground by my throat. Everything went black.

It was two days later that I woke up, my father at my bedside. Sitting up he said, “You are ready. When your mother gets back you can start learning magic.”

Ecstatically I shouted, “Really?” My head began to pound in pain. He reassured me, I had heard correctly before explaining what I had done. In my rage, I had inadvertently used magic and had my opponent not at been an envoy they leg would have been permanently damaged to the point where they wouldn’t have been able to walk ever again. As he finished explaining what I had done, he told me that I was to spar no longer and that I could only watch. Being able to use magic and not control it was too dangerous, but he added, “However, I can see if I can get some of the other envoys to fight each other. That way you can see how an envoy fights.” As promised after that each weekly sparring groups had one match of an envoy fighting another envoy. Their fights were like a dance each one with their own style and grace, neither of them allowing the other to get in an easy blow. It was then that I realized that all my fights prior were just a slugfest, and none of them could hold a candle to how envoys actually fight.

As I patiently waited for my mother to return months passed by, and I was starting to fear the worst. Did something happen to her, and then one night I was woken up by someone noisily coming into our home. As I rushed to get dress and see who it was I was greeted by Nathan Clearwater; the former elder who had helped me and my family over the years. Confused he sat me down, before letting me know my mother and the group of envoys that she was with had returned but many were injured. It was on their journey back to the Temple when they were attacked; they were able to fight their attackers off, but at the cost of losing everything they were going to bring back. Food, lumber and other materials that the Temple needed; without those goods the Temple would need to send another group of envoys out and fast. My father who understood the situation volunteered to lead the group; as Nathan continued to explained, he mentioned that this envoy mission would be the largest ever with over double the normal amount of envoy leaving the Temple.

Struggling to process everything as dread of the chance of losing both my parents sunk in I heard Nathan ask,”…can you do that for me?” Confused, I asked him to repeat his question. Nathan stood up and reached out his hand, “Majority of the envoy will be gone in a day; the rest of the envoy will still be recovering from their attack. I need you to be my eyes and ears, someone knew your mother was returning and planned to attack them. I ask of you to find out who. I does not matter how long it takes, I am use to playing the long game. Can you do that for me, find your mother’s attacker and find were all of those goods went if possible.”

I grabbed his hand and shook it, “For my mother, and for the Temple.”

Weeks, turned into months and by the time my father had returned my mother and the other envoy were fully healed and I was about to turn eighteen. During that time I continued my normal job as well as investigated as Nathan asked; but it was as he expected it would take some time. The other envoys refused to talk about what happened that day; and my mother would only tell me to wait for my father to return so all three of us could talk about it. The day he returned the Temple the whole celebrated; and I couldn’t find myself able to break us away from all of the joy to ask.