Jacob

Jacob was served a loaf of bread and some unknown meat, and though he hesitated to eat the latter, his hunger overcame his stomach’s whining and took a small bite, and proceeded to devour it. The hot meal tasted like chicken, and he picked out every meat until only the bone was left. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t chicken, but he tried to ignore it. The bread wasn’t the type he had tasted before, either. It was sweet and salty, like maple bacon covered in lots and lots of cheddar and nuts. He also ate all of it until nothing was left.

Now dressed in some loose gray cloak and tunic, paired with orange breeches, he was also presented with armor, a leather jerkin over a black and thickly-padded gambeson. He neither knew its purpose other than a precaution in case of an attack. He couldn’t possibly ask Lorrig what from, else risk the discovery that he was able to understand and speak their language. He didn’t want to draw more attention to himself on top of the things already happening to him, and that brought plenty of trouble as it was.

So, he wore the clothes, the armor, and the chains quietly, neither complaining of how it itched and how baggy it was at certain parts compared to his stature or how bizarre he must’ve looked to the other humans. Fortunately, they allowed him to wear his regular rubber shoes as the alien shoes they had presented to him didn’t all fit.

The Commander spared no time before he hurried to the first boat ready on the dock. It was a lot larger than the others moored on the wharf, able to carry the twenty soldiers that accompanied their leader with plenty of room for more. Carved on the side was the name Everheart, written in the alien’s language, and a golden figurehead of the alien’s likeness swallowed by a giant crab-like creature at the bow.

From the human cage, the soldiers dragged out a three dozen chained men and children, herding them toward the boarding ramps, to this strange city, which Jacob had only heard in passing. Ulthoxan.

Jacob was glad to find Porter was among them lined along the dock, ready to enter the vessel. It was nice to see a familiar face, even if he only met the soldier an hour ago. He had his head lowered, and Jacob wanted to shout to get his attention, but he bit his tongue, cautiously watching the Commander standing at the top of the boarding ramps, barking orders. Lorrig poked him from behind, not realizing he had stopped mid-stride.

“Move faster,” Lorrig said lowly.

It was then Porter looked up, a wash of curiosity flashed through his face, eyeing the handful of soldiers that flanked Jacob. He had seen the same face before from his father, calculating the next moves he would make when they played chess, or from the many board games that they enjoyed as a family during Christmas. Jacob had seen it a million times, and he knew Porter must be wondering—and planning—what to make of this sight; Jacob guarded like a dangerous lunatic by the aliens. If they could only talk alone, Jacob would love to help him make one out. He also wanted to know if he had worked under his father, that he was Major Ward’s son. Surely he would recognize him for he was a soldier, possibly from San Bruno, and maybe he could help him escape. He hoped that time would come sooner than later.

Jacob walked up the ramp to the main deck, and The Commander regarded him once again with a crooked smile. “You’ve done well, Master Lorrig,” he said.

“No easy feat dressing this red-blooded creature, my lord. Hard to find something that fits,” said Lorrig.

“Enough of that now. We must move fast. I want to be the first to present these beasts to the Queen. I had word that the Staravs had captured their own red-blooded beasts from their borders up north, and are on their way to the city. I will not have them beat me to it.”

“They don’t have a warlock, my lord. Not like you.”

“You’re quite right, Lorrig. Even so, I still want to be there first. Get this ship augmented.”

Lorrig went still beside Jacob. “You…you want us to take a Magister, my lord?”

“Yes. Thoras will do.”

“But we only have three Magisters posted here. If we take one, and they attacked…”

“The two can more than hold the line.”

“The Ruvari killed one of our own like nothing.”

“He was incompetent then.”

Lorrig held his tongue for a moment. “Very well, my lord. I will send for Thoras.”

“And be quick about it.”

Lorrig looked none too pleased with the order, and hesitated as if he wanted to make another retort; then he thought better of it and walked off. Whoever this Thoras was must be someone important. He left Jacob beside the railing as the Commander continued barking orders to the rest of his underlings while a few had begun to escort the humans up the ramp, herding them to the center of the deck. A few curious looks flashed toward Jacob as they passed him.

“You, too,” said one of the soldiers, pointing at him. He led Jacob to the back of the procession, finding enough space at the end of the boat, close to the Commander’s seat.

It was clear that neither of the soldiers and the humans was thrilled to have Jacob there. He could read it in the way they looked at him and acted around him, but the Commander was the only one who held him impassively as if he was a harmless little bug landing on the back of an elephant. The other humans could tell that the aliens had regarded him to be someone special. They eyed him with the same wariness as the soldiers, muttering to themselves when he wasn’t looking, and retreating away every time he tried to strike a friendly conversation, anything that would keep his mind at ease from where they were going.

Jacob realized he was truly alone.

Lorrig came back with another soldier in tow, Thoras, who neither wore the same armor as everyone on board. He donned very light garments of robes and tunic—both as white as snow—matching it with a dark pair of pants, boots, and gloves. Compared to the other soldiers’ bald heads, Thoras still had his short silver locks combed to the side. Pinned on the left breast was a small silver and hollow diamond-shaped brooch enclosed in a sphere, and it gleamed once the light reached it.

Thoras approached the Commander and glided into a swift, courteous bow, sparing a steely glance at Jacob’s way, and the boy recoiled from the attention. He didn’t like the way the creature looked at him, and all the hairs around his body stood up when his dark eyes met his.

The Commander didn’t even regard his presence with a look, only ordering him to do his job. He then jabbered to Lorrig about crowd control and sending the palace guards upon the grand harbor before they anchored. Jacob wanted to know more, but they moved further up the bow for him to hear, and went inside a tent built for the Commander’s comforts. Thoras, however, stayed behind and took control of the soldiers left standing around the back of the ship.

“Bring out the chrysalis,” Thoras ordered.

Seven soldiers opened a compartment on the floor’s back deck, and with large chains, began pulling up an enormous cage filled with a boulder-sized rock—the same rock glowing out of the pitched torches running along the cavern, except this one glowed bright, shimmering blue. Thoras reached in between the iron and took a small loose chunk off the tip; then, he ordered another soldier to grab a bucket filled with water from the river before they pulled out the boarding ramps.

Jacob held onto the broken piece he had quickly stowed away inside his pocket. It looked and glowed precisely just like the rock before him. The soldiers grunted and heaved as they hauled the cage over the railings and into the water, quickly securing the chains on the broad cleats sticking out of the deck. The other soldier brought the bucket Thoras had asked for earlier.

“Stand back,” Thoras shouted over the soldiers, who parted the back deck as he stepped foot toward the railing.

With the rock in hand, he dipped it into the water for a few seconds. Once that passed, he pulled it back out, threw the rock onto the ground, and stepped hard on it. Jacob could hear the resounding crack as the rock broke into shards underneath Thoras’s soles. Wisps of blue mist snaked around his ankles, up to his thighs, and then wrapped up his torso in a blue glow. The thin mist continued its ascent until it reached Thoras’s head, which he then breathed in. Then the magister simply whispered;

“Water.”

The room suddenly grew darker, and Jacob felt a warmth churned inside his belly. He recognized the feeling back when he was in the tub, hiking up his pulse and made the deck spin a little as the word echoed inside his head. As if it was pulling him into the depths, felt every molecule, every molecular bond as the atoms repelled one another, as if he could touch them and tear them apart with ease. However, the feeling came to pass for only a couple of seconds.

Thoras’s dark eyes glowed blue, and the boat lurched forward, speeding gently through the foaming crest of the river as they entered the wide tunnel. His eyes then returned to its original color. He clutched the railing for support as if he was about to pass out, and one of the soldiers standing by stepped in to help him, but he slapped his hand away, and howled, “Don’t touch me!” The soldier merely retreated back where he stood, head bowed like a child beaten by a belt.

Thoras turned around and peered at Jacob with a curious smile. He closed the gap between them, leaned down as if to take a closer look at an exhibit.

“Tricky little rabbit. You were there.”

Jacob tried to control his face, not letting any sign that he understood him, suppressing his emotion. But Thoras smiled, saw something on him, and Jacob’s pitiful attempt at a poker face crumbled.

Thoras looked down and grabbed Jacob’s wrist, and then ran his fingers over the missing chunk over the greenstone embedded on the chains. Thoras clucked disapprovingly, shaking his head, though his smile remained. His eyes flicked to the other guards, but when none seemed to notice the missing piece, Thoras quickly shoved Jacob’s hand back behind his cloak and wrapped the garment around him. Jacob, surprised, stared at him, unable to form a word. Thoras merely winked.

“You are not supposed to touch it, Magister,” the closest guard said. “Master Lorrig says so.”

“There’s a chrysalis already bounded to the chains. Between the two of us, I have more experience dealing with those things than you.”

“It is a precaution.”

“If you’re so afraid, sir, you might as well hide under your mother’s skirt.”

“Careful, witch. Your boundless is finite. My blade is not.”

“Do you want to test that, good sir? This witch still has enough reserves to shove the entire river down your throat. At least have the common decency to address me in my proper caste, which, I recall, is above yours.”

The soldier, now realizing he had caught the attention of the rest of his unit and the humans, scowled at Thoras, and spat on Thoras’s foot. “I make no time for degenerates. Your magic is a disgrace to the gods.”

Thoras suddenly launched forward, stepping inches away from the soldier. “Do you have the heart to speak like that of the queen?”

The soldier’s face suddenly fell. Thoras let out a crooked smile.

“Exactly. I don’t think so.”

The soldier, clearly fuming as his gaze narrowed at the magister, stormed off to the front of the boat, followed by two other soldiers. Thoras let his smile lingered for a little before he sauntered toward the Commander’s tent and went inside without asking for consent. He left the canvas flap open, and through the glowing embers of the lantern, Jacob could see Thoras talking to the Commander, shaking his head all the while the Commander kept glancing back out—back to Jacob.

Jacob didn’t have to take a wild guess to know that he was the center of the conversation.

He felt a nudge from behind, turned around, and came face to face with Porter. Jacob felt a little pang of relief that at least one human at least acknowledged him. The rest had retreated away when Thoras approached, and they didn’t fill back the space they left behind.

“What was that all about?” He whispered glancing at the tent. “And why did they dress you like that?”

“For the queen,” Jacob said. As soon as the words slipped, he immediately regretted it.

“You…can understand them?” Porter asked suspiciously.

Jacob had nothing but to nod. There was no point in lying, and he never had a good poker face to pull it off anyway. He could count the hundreds of times his lies fell flat on his mother’s face, like how it crumbled in front of Thoras. There’s no reason it would work on a soldier when spotting nuances were part of their job.

“What were they fighting about?” Porter asked.

“I think some soldiers here don’t agree with one another.”

“They don’t like the unarmored dudes?”

“Yes.”

Porter nodded, thinking. “Well, that might come useful for later.”

“For what?”

“Don’t know yet. Still looking.” Porter’s jaw tightened, and his eyes had that same glaze return when he was thinking, no doubt considering this into his advantage. “Do they know?”

Jacob shook his head.

“Good,” he said, looking relieved. “Let’s keep it that way.”