Brotherhood Saga 03: Death (31 page)

In Odin
’s heart, so faint and idle, he felt as though Miko would never be honored outside of the choice group of friends they had encountered along the five years of their journey.

At this, he bowed his head and tried not to cry.

Tears slipped from his eyes.

Virgin stepped forward, then settled down on the bed next to him.

“It’s all right,” the Halfling said.

“No it
’s not,” he said, shaking his head and allowing the tears to fall freely. “You know what we’re here to do.”

“I know.”

“Then tell me what I’m doing is wrong.”

“I—“

“Tell me,
Virgin. Fucking
tell me
this whole entire thing is fucking
wrong.”

“There
’s no need to get upset over this,” Virgin said, tilting Odin’s chin up so they could look each other in the eyes. “Look, Odin—I know this is hard for you, because losing someone is never easy, but you have to realize something: If you’re really going to do what I think you will, then you’ll do it without any guilt in your heart or any second thoughts. And if you have any, well… you have a little while to think them over, because we’re not going anywhere anytime soon, especially not with your chest the way it is.”

“You
’ll still,” Odin said, then paused. “I mean, you’ll still… heh-
help
me?”

“Why wouldn
’t I? We’ve come this far. There’s no reason to stop now.”

Odin bowed his head.

When he once again began to cry, Virgin took him into his arms.

Things will work out,
he thought.

They had to, otherwise there would be no point for this venture.

An Elven man dressed in a fine silver robe came into their room the following morning. Head held high, blonde hair braided
in two down his shoulders and with eyes the color of stark sandstone that could be found in the Cadarian Desert, he trailed his gaze first over Virgin, who sat at the opposite side of the room, then to Odin, who’d continued to remain in bed.

“Hello,” the Elven man said.

Almost unable to concentrate on the creature’s face for the pure beauty and androgyny it held, Odin allowed his mouth to drop open and his eyes to wander across the breathtaking canvas of the Eklf’s face. From the high cheekbones, to the deep eye sockets, to the fine trails of hair upon his brow and the portraiture of thin lips across his face, this creature—nowhere near or capable of being human—looked upon him with eyes calm yet somewhat concerned, as they continued to flash up and down his person as the moments continued to tick on.

You
’re staring,
his conscience whispered.

Did that really matter? In the end,
this
beautiful creature
had been one of the few he had ever seen, so to stare into the eyes of an Elf untainted by war or hardship was to look into the eyes of something immortal and therefore breathtaking to an entire world.

Across the room, Virgin cleared his throat, as if beckoning a response.

Odin blinked.

The Elf in the silver robes gave him a slight nod before returning his attention to Virgin. “Master Virgin,” he said.

“Yes sire,” the Halfling said, rising.

“How is y
our charge doing?”

“He
’s doing fine,” Virgin replied, allowing his eyes to wander across the room until they set directly upon Odin’s.

In light of the situation—and, particularly, the fact that he was
awake and being ignored—Odin wanted to say,
‘I’m right here,’
but somehow thought better. Instead, he merely crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back, and continued to watch the two engage in casual banter, no longer feeling the need to impress upon the Elf who was very likely their host an air arduous and troublesome.

“It is not very often we see Yamda in these parts,” the Elf in the silver robe said, immediately piquing Odin
’s attention. “You are one of the few we have seen in quite some time. Tell me—where have you been?”

“Just around.”

“That does not give me any indication as to where you were.”

“I never stray too far north. You should know that.”

“But of course. Your Elven heart shares no hatred to the place you now dwell in.

“Of course not.”

Do they know each other?

The likelihood didn
’t seem too completely out of the world. If Virgin was as customary with the Elves as he seemed, it wasn’t as if he
couldn’t
know some of the people who lived within this city, in this grand, sprawling metropolis.

A snarl of unease crept up his throat.

Odin raised his hand to stifle a cough.

The Elf turned his attention on him.

Not sure what to do, say or how to respond, Odin lowered his hand and regarded the creature with eyes that very likely showed fear.

“Yamda,” the Elf said, crossing the distance between them to stand at the side of his bed.

“Sorry?” Odin frowned.

“Are you well?”

“I’m… fine,” he managed, unsure how to take the initial consolation.

“If you need anything, please, feel free to let
me know. You are in our care now that you are here.”

“Where am I? I mean, which building?”

“You are in our capitol’s greatest hospital. It is any wonder you are alive, young one. You could have been killed by that creature.”

“What was it?” Odin asked. “I deserve to know what nearly killed me.”

“The thing your friend described can only be one of the Nagani,” the Elf said, crouching down to take Odin’s hand.

“Nagani?”

“They are a creature that are said to only follow those with ill intent. Why they would attack you is beyond my comprehension.”

Is it?
Odin thought, all the more troubled at the idea that this Elf could pierce into his soul and see his darkest desires.
Or are you just saying that because you’re not sure of who I am?

“I came to learn of death,” he whispered, shifting his hand beneath the Elf
’s.

His statement was not entirely untrue. Yes, he had come to steal the Book of the Dead, and yes, he had come here out of a need for answers he felt he could not find elsewhere, but he had not lied when he said he wanted to learn the purpose of what came after life. The philosophy itself he could sit upon, for it would likely be doled out in small, manageable chunks. The Book, however, would have to be taken, then read, thereby initiating a pact that could
lead him down a path of madness.

What am I thinking?

If the legends were true, and if what they said about the Book held any real moral indication, he would likely be damned for life by opening its pages and reading from its sacred texts.

“You have come to the right place if you wish to learn,” the creature said, patting Odin’s hand one last time before standing and making his way toward the door. “If you need anything, Yamda, please, feel free to ask your partner to summon for help.”

Partner?

The door closed firmly behind the Elf in silver, leaving them in complete and utter silence

Later that evening, long after the Elf in the silver robe had left and Virgin sat reading by candlelight, Odin raised his head from his place in bed and regarded the empty room with eyes somber yet partially amused. Thoughts of the earlier conversation still amok in his mind and the reality that Elven language had been used explicitly in front of him, he pushed himself into a sitting position and stretched his arms up as far as he could before allowing his eyes to fall on his friend.

Should I bother him?
he thought, frowning, training his eyes first on Virgin’s downturned face, then to the book that lay open in his lap.

Though he knew Virgin would not likely care, he didn
’t want to disturb him unless he was absolutely willing. With that sentiment clearly in his head, he cleared his throat, waited for Virgin to lift his head, then asked, “Virgin?”

“Yes?”

“I may sound stupid for asking this, but… what does ‘Yamda’ mean?”

“Don
’t feel stupid for asking. And ‘Yamda’ means ‘Halfling.’”

“Halfling?”

“It’s an Elvish word.”

“Why did he call me a Yamda and not you?”

“Likely because he already knew my name,” Virgin said, setting his book on the windowsill before stepping forward and crouching down beside the bed. “He also called me master because I was the one who brought you in for medical treatment.”

“I didn
’t expect him to speak like you and me do when he first arrived.”

“Human language has become the norm throughout most of the sentient races,” Virgin shrugged, waiting a moment for Odin to either nod or shake his head before rising and sitting at his side. “As far as history is concerned—and excuse me if I get this wrong, because it
’s been a while since I’ve been in any sort of schooling—humans rose up from their place within the world and were the first to start speaking on this continent. Dwarves came out of nowhere, learned the language, passed it on between one another. It was only natural for the Elves to follow suit once they realized they might be communicating with these people one day.”

“I thought the Elves came to heal the dying mainland?” Odin frowned.

“You mean with Diana?” Virgin asked. He waited for a response, though when none came, a smile split his lips. “Do you honestly believe that legend?”

“I… I don
’t know.”

“I believe there once was a great fire that took place along the coast, yes, because there are still plac
es—like Bohren, for instance, or the areas around Dwaydor—that bear the fruits of what flames can sew. I don’t believe, however, that a human would have ever sailed across the Crystal Sea with the Elves.”

“Because there weren
’t humans over where the Elves came from?”

“By the Gods no, of course not.”

“Couldn’t she have been an Elf?”

“She could have,” Virgin shrugged, “and it
’s highly likely, given the fact that she had magical talents that supposedly ‘healed the land,’ but like I said, I’m not much of the belief in Gods or what rule they have over the earth. Besides—if Diana were truly an Elf, then she was a very underwhelming one at that.”

“But you don
’t deny that it couldn’t have happened?”

“It very well could have,” Virgin shrugged. “Considering how barbaric your… well, I should say,
our
kind’s uprising was, it’s highly likely that the humans met the Elves and their kind with resistance, which is why we were never keen on interacting with humans until they evolved higher intelligence.”

“Evolved?” Odin frowned. “I… I don
’t understand.”

“I imagine you wouldn
’t.”

“What does that mean?”

“Many of our kind—the humans, anyway—believe that we were created by some higher force, but from what the Elves had said, they came here when humankind was still covered by fur.”

“Fur?”

“As I’ve read and understood, humans—some of what you and I are, Odin—evolved from a group of upright-walking primates that aren’t seen anywhere else in the world. Why, I can’t be too sure, but it’s highly likely that the Leatherskins killed off our fellow bloodlines when we rose to power out of fear that we would grow stronger.”

“So you
’re saying we used to be,” Odin began, then paused. “Animals.”

“Elven scientists—people who study the progression and changes of things—believe that everything came from something.
Our people believe we were once like Marsh Walkers that rose from the sea and were one of the first intelligent beings to have evolved in our world.”

“I
’d heard of that,” Odin said. “It’s just… so hard to grasp.”

“There
’s a lot of things you can learn while you’re here,” Virgin said. “You may even consider living here after you learn about the history of our people and maybe even humanity, if only because of the vast pool of knowledge you can gleam from it, but I’m not pressing you to do anything.”

“You know why we
’re here.”

“I know, but until you recover, there
’s no guarantee that we’ll be able to…” Virgin leaned forward until his lips touched Odin’s ear. “Steal the book.”

“I know,” he whispered back.

“This kind of conversation is good for the mind. It stimulates it to expand into territories many humans are not willing to cross.”

“How long do you plan on staying up?”

“Why?” Virgin smiled.

“I want you to teach me the basics,” Odin said. “About what to and what not to do.”