9-Animus

Animus awoke to the feeling of an ice cold cloth being pulled across his forehead. His tried opening his eyes, but a cool paste covered them.

“Easy son,” his father said. “You took a beating last night.” Another cold rag dragged across his forehead, this one so wet it dribbled water down the side of his face. Animus tried to rub his eyes to remove the substance but his father voice stopped him. “Leave it. The Noxia paste helps with the swelling.”

His jaws ached. Animus remembered last night’s events: hanging by an enchanted rope, nearly being suffocated and beaten by those water fists, his friend being hurt…”

Animus asked, “Sterl?”

“Your mother’s went to check on him.” His father’s firm hand pressed against his very sore chest. “Breathe. You’ve a cracked rib.”

Animus shifted in bed and gasped. Pain stung his chest and side. He asked, “Sterl, is he dead?”

“He’s pulled through.”

Thank the Gods. After a short pause, Animus asked another question. “Where is Yayisha?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, nor if he should care.

“Sleeping. Appears she nearly drowned in the tub last night,” Kas said.

What does he know? Animus didn’t remember much after he stumbled into the house last night. The energy from the seed that Vara gave him got him in the house and to his bed. He fell asleep almost immediately.

After another three uncomfortable swipes across his eyes and then his father removed the wash cloth. He cleared the remnants of water with his fingers, and then Animus opened his eyes. He felt the puffiness of them.

Animus looked at his father and was surprised; there was no glare waiting for him, no shaking of his head which would have meant his father was disappointed. Instead, his father grinned, though dark bags lurked under his eyes. Has he slept at all?

His father leaned close and put his meaty hand on Animus’s forehead. “No fever. That’s a relief. I’ve seen men with that many splinters burning with infection within hours. Your mother removed twenty of them from your chest and abdomen, some long as fingers. Seemed the board barring the double doors somehow wrapped around you?”

Animus nodded. “Yayisha did that. She tried to kill me, papa. I had no choice but to—“

“You’ve no need to defend yourself. Her attack gave you the right to beat her bloody.” His father’s eyes looked to the door. “You could’ve killed her for coming at you like that.”

“But he didn’t.” Mother’s voice preceded her into the room. Animus watched her come through the door. She entered dressed in a dark green robe; her long dark hair had been straightened and pulled into a loose ponytail. In her hands she carried fresh clothes and a new pair of brown leather boots. After laying them over the back of the chair and setting her boots next it, she turned to look at Animus. “Our son knows the loyalty of blood.”

His father scowled. “Yayisha threatens you again, tell one of us, eh? I’ll see she never lays a hand on you again.” His father stood and glared at Zelicia. “I’ll go to the temple and make sure the stubborn girls knows it.”

His father left the room without another word. Mother waited until the sound of his steps disappeared from earshot before she came and sat next to him. Her hand came to his forehead. “He was furious after he found out.”

Animus struggled not to cry. His emotions always seemed to run rampant whenever he was alone with mother. “All of this is my fault.”

“Nonsense. Yayisha’s just as much to blame. The girl is a bully. No other teenager will so much as say hello to her these days. She’s got them all scared. Except you. That aggravates her.”

Animus swallowed. Yayisha told me earlier she would kill me. Instead of telling mother that, he just stayed quiet.

“Your father’s right. You could have killed her.” She leaned close then, here green eyes searching. “Why didn’t you?”

He tried to look away but Zelicia’s hand gripped his chin. “Be truthful, son.”

She knows when I lie. Always has. “It just didn’t seem—I just couldn’t.” Animus felt the tears dribble down his face. “Why does she hate me?”

His mother’s fingers swiped away the tears on either side of his face. “She’s scared of you.”

That answer astounded him. “But why? I can’t even do magic.”

“What if you could?”

Me? “Only women can use magic.”

Zelicia laughed aloud. “Where did you hear that nonsense?”

“Barl and Relenn were talking about it the other night.”

“To you?”

Animus felt his face growing warm. “N-No. I was close to them and heard her talking.”

“Foolish boy. Don’t believe everything you hear at the tavern. Eavesdropping on people’s conversations again?”

How does she know I do that? I’ve never even seen her at the inn!

Zelicia continued. “Those two are fools. They’re ignorance of the world astounds me.”

“But Mama, the minstrels that come through never speak of men using magic.”

She laid her arm on his sore side. Her eyes and hands glowed. As tendrils of energy flowed into him, his mother said, “Minstrels are liars and thieves, fools that twist events into song. They use their talent with instrument and voice to charm women and earn coin. The few that actually know of warlocks gain no benefit by speaking of them.”

Animus didn’t know what to think about that.

“Do you know that magic flows in your veins, son? You but lack the training to bring it forth.”

Animus would’ve popped up from the bed in shock of hearing such a thing, but dared not move when mother was healing him. He tried to stay calm as he asked, “How can that be? I’ve never—how?”

“It requires great patience for a man to Awaken. It’s much more difficult for a man to touch magic.”

Awaken. Mother used that word when Yayisha animated that pitchfork five years ago. “But how do I, uh, Awaken?” He gasped as his mother’s magic caused his ribs to crack. It was all he could do not to scream. Thankfully, the pain passed quickly.

“It could take years for you to learn.” Her hand grabbed his. “But you’ve my blood in you. You could be a warlock. A powerful one.”

Animus didn’t know whether to be excited by that or terrified. All I know is I don’t want to be like my sister. “But what does that have to do with Yayisha being scared of me?”

His mother smiled, the green glow fading from her eyes. “Yayisha knows you have the ability. She can feel the magic in you. Just like I can.”

“How?” Animus asked.

His mother shrugged. “How does one dog know another is in heat? Instinct, Animus.”

“I can feel Yayisha when she’s close.”

Zelicia nodded. “Can you feel me when I approach?”

Animus shook his head. “No.”

She smiled. “There are ways to hide your magic from others that have the talent. It is a thing l that must be learned.”

Then Yayisha couldn’t see my coming.

His mother continued, “I am willing to train you. But the fighting between you two must stop. I will not have my only two children trying to murder each other. You must promise to stop going after her.”

Anger stirred within him. “Tell her to stop hurting my friends.”

“Your father will see to that. He has ways of inspiring fear. Even in her.”

If that’s so, why hasn’t he done anything until now? But he knew better than to ask. “I’ll keep my distance.” Unless she comes after me first.

Zelicia ruffled his thick black hair. “You’re such a good son. Now, would you like to go see Sterl?”

He nodded. She walked to the door, turning back one more time. “Speak of this conversation to no one.”

Figured she would say that. “When can I become a warlock?”

“We’ll start soon. But until then, you must be patient.” She waved her hand toward the clothes she had brought in. “Dress yourself and meet me outside.”

Once she left and the door closed, Animus stood. The pain in his chest was nothing but a dull throb, the sharpness all but gone. He donned fresh clothes, and though he’d never worn the boots, they fit as if he’d already broken them in.

His mind wandered to last night. Vara’s beauty was vivid: long blond hair, smooth skin, the warmth of her hands on his chest. Who was she? I hope I get to see her again.

He stood and looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were puffy, and a long scratch remained ugly and red on his forehead. Other than that, he looked normal. He stood straighter and wondered. Could I be a wizard?

He looked outside. The sun poured through his window, warm and invigorating. The skies were blue and clear. The only evidence of the storm last night was the mud in the street. Animus thought of the previous night. He wondered if he’s having been a warlock last night, could he have protected Sterl? Or himself? He looked back to the mirror and formed a fist. One day.