Dakko's speech grew less and less coherent as the pain medicine took hold. He clearly wasn't used to it like Xigon was. As the master's own pain faded back into being bearable, he used his power to push the boy down into sleep.

Of course, he'd had the bright idea earlier of putting the cot he never used away to save space. Xigon scolded himself, then reminded himself there was no way he could have expected the current predicament. He looked around his study for something he could use to keep Dakko more comfortable in his sleep. Briefly, he considered removing the padding from his wheelchair. He needed to replace it anyway, flattened and worn as it was, but he knew he still needed it. His body wouldn't negotiate like his mind did.

Instead, Xigon took his green coat off, folded it, and put it under Dakko's head. That would have to do for now, he thought. Before leaving, he left a note on a shred of parchment.

I will be back after meeting with your brother. For your own safety, do not leave this room.

He put the note down next to the sleeping boy, got up into his wheelchair, and set out to see the other brother.

As he wheeled himself out into the hallway, he noticed a bat on the ceilling. He squinted at it for a moment to make sure his eyes weren't tricking him. Then he tapped his foot on the footrest. "I know it's you, Channei. Get down from there."

The bat plopped onto the floor and then stretched itself into a more familiar human shape. Channei stood up and extended her slender arms. "You look even more colossal when I'm that tiny." She forced a smile as she turned her eyes greenish and glared daggers at him. "Good to see the real me, though?"

"Everything you show the world is an illusion. The real you isn't something anyone can see with their eyes." Xigon edged closer. "Isn't that right, Channei? Now please, let me through."

Channei grabbed his shoulders. "Master, please. Don't hurt those kids." Her tone grew frantic. "I just want them to be safe from the real threat."

Xigon pulled one glove off and wrapped his fingers around Channei's wrist. Her head sank and all her breath let out in a huff. His barehanded touch was enough to silence anyone in seconds, no matter how panicked. He kept his voice level. "Are you ready to listen?"

Channei managed to nod. She took a deep breath in when he released his grip. A faint vacant smile tugged at her lips before her glare returned. "They're victims, Master. Not enemies. What's even there to discuss?"

"Even though he harms them, those boys are attached to their leader. Deeply, firmly attached. There's no telling what they might do if, say, he comes back for them, or they manage to get their hands on Kolo." He looked up. "Should they so much as even attempt to capture or otherwise harm her, I expect you to intervene. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master." Channei took a step back and let go of him. "Though I have a question."

"I might have an answer." He put his glove back on.

"Why is Kolo so important? Don't get me wrong, I adore her. But you never got this passionate about protecting anyone else, did you?" The shapeshifter cocked her head. "What's special about her?"

Xigon had an answer in his mind, but he knew it wouldn't make sense to anyone but himself. Instead, he said something else true. "I should have taken such care with all of you." He waved his hand. "I really need to get through, though."

"Where are you going?" She got in his way quite deliberately.

"To see Ido. He's where I told you to put him, right?"

"Aza's going to love that we set the lightning boy up in his room. Not." She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, he's in there. Door's unlocked, but Jai-Lag's standing guard outside."

"Damn cat probably wants her favorite human home." He chuckled. "Now go on and do whatever it was you were."

"No." Channei got behind him. "I'm coming with you."

The master looked over his shoulder. "Do you not trust me?"

"I trust you with my life, Master." She bowed her head. "But not with his."

He couldn't help but smile. Protecting the vulnerable was among Channei's deepest and most unbreakable instincts, and he loved that about her. In a kinder world, Xigon thought, she would have been a great mother.

She followed him all the way to Azvalath's room but agreed – albeit reluctantly – to wait outside with the sabretooth cat while Xigon met with Ido. The master worried that too many people in the room would cause the already volatile boy to panic and lash out.

Azvalath's room was a place Xigon seldom went. Unlike the other warriors' rooms, it was minimalist and orderly. The narrow bed was tucked in one corner with a desk lined up next to it. He had one mostly empty shelf and a wardrobe that hung slightly open. Strange, Xigon thought, when everything else was so immaculate. He rolled his chair up to the wardrobe and peeked inside.

Ido was hiding there, huddled under Azvalath's black ceremonial robes. When Xigon pulled the door farther open, the boy shrank himself into a ball. "No, please," he whimpered. "No, I'll be good, I won't..."

"Ido." Xigon said the boy's name in a firm tone. "You're not in any danger."

Ido curled his head into his chest. Xigon saw the boy's vital forces the same way snakes supposedly saw the heat of their prey. Like Dakko, there was a long history of bone fractures, many of which had not healed properly. He backed his chair up a few inches. "Should I come back later?"

The boy looked up with an expression of profound confusion.

Xigon folded his hands in his lap. "There is no wrong answer."

"Stay." Ido choked the word out in a voice that sounded ghostly. "Where's my brother?"

"Dakko is in stable condition." He gave no more detail. Ido didn't need to know that his brother was still severely injured and could take a very long time to recover if he recovered at all. Not yet. That could come later. "Your leader isn't here, but none of us have done him any harm."

At the mention of Haode, Ido froze up and whined. "I...I didn't kill him, did I? I blasted the place to bits with my lightning. I saw him get shocked almost to death. When Channei took us, I heard him screaming our names and then...then he was just quiet."

"Not knowing is often worse than knowing." Xigon looked down. "Believe me. I understand."

"I want him to suffer after what he did to my brother." Ido sat up and clenched his hands into fists. "I mean, I'm sorry, I didn't mean...I don't want him to suffer. I'm sorry!" He clutched his head.

"Don't forbid yourself from feeling anything, no matter how bad it might seem. Feelings are not actions." The master tugged at his gloves. "Though Dakko tells me Haode has been suffering for a long time. What do you know about him? Or about yourself?"

"I can't tell you anything. I shouldn't. It's secret. You could use it against us. You're the father of a nest of demons." Ido sounded more like he was talking to himself than to Xigon. "I can't trust you. I shouldn't, I can't..."

"You're right. I could use it against you." Xigon acknowledged the boy's fear. "How about I start, then? You ask me a question, then I ask you one. No lies. No shame. All right?"

"I...um, all right." Ido's body stayed tense even though his voice relaxed somewhat. "What are all those scars on your wrist?"

Xigon looked down and noticed one of his sleeves had hiked up, revealing at least a few dozen of his scars. He pulled both sleeves back to his elbows and held his arms out. "My bloodstained history. Each scar is a life I took."

Ido straightened. He clutched Azvalath's black robes.

The master pulled his sleeves back down and asked his first question. "Why have you stayed by that man's side despite his cruelty?"

The boy hesitated. He bit one of his fingernails and averted his eyes.

Xigon adjusted his goggles. "If you want to ask me another question, you have to answer mine first."

"He's been good to us." Ido backed into the corner of the wardrobe. "Our father was worse. Haode's a good man. He saved us."

"Thank you." The tall man sat up straighter and crossed one leg over his lap. "Your turn."

Ido paused and thought. He looked up and down before his eyes locked on Xigon's wheelchair. "Why can't you walk? What happened?"

"I can walk." Xigon tapped the toe of his boot on the footrest. He wondered how much he should reveal to the boy, then decided it would be unfair to withhold the information if he expected the full truth from Ido. "It's difficult, however. I usually need crutches or someone else helping me. As for what happened..."

The master caught himself hesitating. He almost never spoke about this, not even with his students who'd been with him the longest. Why should he tell this boy who could be a threat to them? He clenched his hands, then relaxed. He had to hold his end of the deal.

"As for what happened," Xigon said again, straining to keep his voice calm. "I decided I'd had enough of my fellow master's coercion and control. I challenged her. We fought and she tore me apart." His hand went to his side. The ancient scars felt tender all of a sudden. "I couldn't repair my own spine completely. I'll never be able to."

A long silence followed his words. Xigon broke a sweat as he fought to contain the rage electrifying his nerves. His muscles twitched. He took a deep shuddering breath and let it out slowly. Why this anger all of a sudden? He thought he had grown beyond the point of being bothered by the past, but within himself, the master saw a boy quite similar to Ido. One who loved the hand that harmed him.

Xigon remembered a line from the book he'd read a thousand times. I want your embrace. I want to claw your eyes off your face. No wonder he kept coming back to that page in particular. Now, as he spoke with Ido, the master was overcome with déjà vu.

"My next question." Xigon's shoulders heaved as he tried not to raise his voice. "What do you think makes us love the hands that strike us?"

Ido blinked. "What?"

"It's a bizarre trick of the mind. One I'm well acquainted with." Xigon's eyes started to burn. He squeezed them shut until the sensation passed. "Let's both consider that question."

He heard the sabretooth cat yowl outside the door. Channei exclaimed something and Azvalath yelled down the hall. Xigon put his head in his hands. Something or someone always demanded his attention, and now, he wasn't sure he had even an ounce left to give.

Qila's voice cut through the shouting outside. "What part of quiet hours don't you brats understand?" Xigon heard the old woman's footsteps and then a gasp.

"What's going on out there?" Xigon couldn't suppress a tone of frustration.

"I've got this, Xigon." Qila, for once, sounded calmer than he did, though he suspected she was faking it.

"That doesn't answer my question." Xigon tightened his hands into fists.

Qila snapped at him. "Don't worry about it."

In his experience, that always meant do worry about it. His head hurt all of a sudden. It occurred to him that he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a drink of water. Then he noticed his hip also hurt. He really needed to fix his chair. Of course, Xigon chose to ignore all of the above for the time being, which was exactly what he'd admonish his students for doing.

Xigon couldn't help but laugh at himself. Since when had his method been do as I say and not as I do? Since now, apparently.

Ido noticed him chuckling. "What's so funny?"

"Laughing is more fun than screaming." The master shook his head and tried to relax. "Qila, I'll be right out."

Azvalath shouted from the hallway. "Xigon, now get out of my room!"

Xigon rushed out, ready to snap at Azvalath for his disrespect until he saw the state his student was in. Looking at Azvalath hurt like looking at the sun. Where with Ido, he could easily see what was wrong, Azvalath's heat was a barrage of disorder. He had to look away for a moment. "What happened?"

"Ami poisoned him." Qila grabbed their student and steadied him. "Let me deal with this."

"Hold on. Stop right there." Xigon held his hand up. "That doesn't make any sense. Why would Ami poison him?"

"I don't know." Qila made Azvalath sit and then extended one of his arms, which was covered in blood. "Azvalath, who put this tourniquet on you?"

"Ami," he choked. "What's happening to me?"

Channei and Jai-Lag came closer. Their appearance startled Xigon, who had been so focused on Azvalath that he had forgotten they were there. The sabretooth cat chuffed and then let out a long, low hiss. Channei chuffed back at Jai-Lag, then spoke up. "Cat says she smells Ami's message in a bottle."

Qila raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Azvalath's head snapped up. He spoke in a ghostly-sounding voice that barely sounded like his own. "Dearest Masters – you take such terrible care of your students that I'd make a better master any day." Black fluid dripped from his mouth. "I'm in control. What about you? How will you play the game without your sword?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a vial of purplish liquid.

"Azvalath." Xigon caught his voice getting panicked. "What is that?"

"What's happening?" Azvalath asked again. His hands moved as if someone else were controlling them. He uncapped the vial and held it up, fighting to keep it away from his mouth. "Master, I...!"

Qila's eyes widened. "Is that...?"

"Give me that." Xigon snatched the vial from Azvalath.

"No!" Azvalath tried to snatch it back. He growled and screamed as Qila held him back.

Xigon, knowing no other way to ensure everyone's safety, downed the vial himself.

It was like swallowing molten metal. He coughed and nearly vomited. Xigon's muscles twitched. His heart beat faster and faster. He tried to keep himself calm even as his body betrayed him bit by bit.

"Qila." He looked up, then immediately forgot what he had wanted to say. "Qila..."

Everything he had ever wanted to say to Qila – but hadn't for some reason or another – spun around inside his head like a cyclone. A strange, unintelligible voice whispered in his ears. Xigon straightened, backed his chair up, and took a deep breath. He had to maintain composure. When he saw the looks on everyone's faces, that was easier said than done. Their fear filled him with visceral rage and – worse than that – a fear of his own.

Forbid no feeling, he would tell his students. Only the action that follows.

He shook his head and looked down at Azvalath. "Many of my scars were for you." He hoped no one could hear the hitch in his breathing. "Never forget that. Never make me regret it."

"Did you just poison yourself?" Azvalath's voice was shrill. "What was that?"

The ghostly whispers returned. Xigon's hands went to his ears. He tried to make the motion look like fixing his hair. Without another word to anyone, he turned his wheelchair and pushed himself down the corridor. He ignored every scream that followed.

The world blurred and the whispers grew louder and more insistent. Soon, he could make out a young girl's voice. "It's been a while, Iban'naijan-dr"

Xigon froze. His chair rolled to a stop. That was his name in the gods' tongue, the language of creation and destruction. He'd never known its true meaning. The voice wasn't their god, though. It was something else, something far larger and hungrier.

Others had told him how they saw the destroyer Kaosaan. A colossal, world-devouring beast was what he heard them say most often. What he saw, however, looked like a little shadowy girl with luminous white eyes. He wondered which image was the real one.

His head sank down to his chest. Sleep descended on him with little warning.

It felt a hell of a lot longer than his usual few minutes before he woke, but it was only a matter of seconds before he had a terrifying realization.

He couldn't open his eyes at all.

Xigon looked inward, then, and saw his own life. The flame was dim but undeniable. He tried to move his limbs. He found they were heavier than lead. All he managed to do was clench up his fingers.

"Hey there. You're awake? That was a whole half hour." Xigon recognized Rizval's voice next to him. They wrapped their jittery fingers around his hand. "Going torpid must be even more boring than watching paint dry. At some point I'd rather just die."

The outline of Kaosaan appeared to him through his closed eyelids. She tittered like a songbird, then screamed like a barn owl.

"I made Kolo some fu...freaking beautiful armor." Rizval almost cursed but corrected immediately. "All right. I have to know how you have such perfect hair all the time. Does Lalek do it for you? Should I try letting her style me?"

Xigon would have laughed if he could. Rizval's voice grounded him enough that he could keep his mind off Kaosaan. Even though he couldn't show it, he was grateful. His worst fear wasn't death, but the thought of being torpid alone, unable to die and eventually unable to block out whatever Kaosaan was trying to whisper in his ear.

"You're probably wondering why you're stuck with your favorite crocodile." Rizval squeezed his hand and laughed at their own words. "I'll let you in on a little something. Master Qila's out for Ami's blood. She's got everyone on the case except us, Azvalath, and Kolo. It's ridiculous. Never seen her so angry."

Xigon had seen far worse, but he could imagine even a small taste was too much for someone like Rizval, who only ever saw the best of their masters. At least, that was what Xigon had hoped for the longest time. Now he wasn't so sure.

[21] Xigon: The Child Who Was Never

0 Comments