The Regenerates (9 page)

“–Can’t afford any more setbacks, Claira. I mean it. Think about Eve’s education.”

“Of course I’m thinking about her. I know it’s been hard ever since Muran’s Border Authority increased their security and decreased the orders of goods, but we can’t just let a bunch of bandits pass through here, no matter how much they pay us. Do you have any idea how dangerous it could be? What if they threaten us?”

Ven frowned. He knew it wasn’t right to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help himself.

“You’re forgetting something,” said Albar. “They have no idea we know who they are. We just have to play it cool and everything will be fine. If anything should happen, I’ve warned a few friends from Ward’s place four doors down and they’ve got weapons ready. And of course, I have my own basement full of weapons. We have nothing to worry about.”

Something slammed on the table.

“Damn those Corans,” said Claira. “Stingy, orthodox fools. But this doesn’t surprise me. Those beasts won’t even spare their own kin. A small trading stop like ours didn’t stand a chance.”

“Claira–”

“Don’t. I’m not interested. If something happens to Eve I will never forgive you, or myself.”

Ven gripped the banister. What had Cor done? Did Kayn know about this? Things could get ugly if these people discovered where Ven and Kayn were really from. It occurred to Ven that other than the news broadcasts in Cor, this was the first time he had heard what anyone else thought of his home city. Until recently, he had considered himself to be quite patriotic, but a cloud of doubt and confusion was beginning to seep into him and he hated it. He had enough confusion to deal with right now.

Ven peered over the edge of the landing to see if the coast was clear. Albar was gone, but Claira was seated on the couch, a hand pressed to her forehead. Parched, Ven slowly walked downstairs. Claira jumped when she saw him.

“I’m sorry,” said Ven. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. My throat is just a little dry.”

“O-oh, it’s no problem.” Claira straightened herself up and tucked her hair behind her ears. “You’re awake pretty early.”

“I think it’s my leg,” said Ven. “I thought sleep would help, but I guess it wasn’t enough.”

“Wait here.” She hurried into the kitchen and returned a minute later with a cup of pale pink liquid and a small green tablet in her hand.

“This will help. It’s a special fruit blend you only get in this area. As for the tablet? It’s especially for pain and promotes healing. You’re lucky. It’s a deep gash, but will heal in a few days, enough for you to be back to normal. I’ve seen much worse, trust me. Be thankful you didn’t see any bone.”

Ven popped the tablet in his mouth and drained the glass. “Thanks.”

“You didn’t hear any of that, did you?” said Claira.

“Hmm?” Ven tried to feign innocence, but he was clearly terrible at it. “Of course not…”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “We’re just going through a rough patch right now.”

“Let us give you something for your trouble,” said Ven. “We really should pay for room and board.” He turned and made for the stairs to get his money pouch, but Claira stopped him.

“Not likely. We’re not poverty-stricken, you know.”

Ven sighed and admitted defeat. “I think I’ll go back to bed. I’d like to get some more sleep and let this medicine do its thing. Thanks, Claira.”

She smiled warmly at him before disappearing around the corner. Ven gingerly gripped the railing, bracing himself for the several minutes it was going to take him to get upstairs. To his surprise, the medicine was already starting to work. He took careful steps, but breathed deeply as he felt the pain reduce exponentially.

As Ven crawled back underneath the covers, he debated whether or not to tell Kayn about what he had heard. But what was the point? Kayn wouldn’t care at all.

V
en awoke to the sound of knocking and the chirping of birds. For a split second he thought he was back home and Hans and Florentine were trying to get him to wake up. He opened his eyes. Instead, Claira’s smiling face appeared at the door.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you? I was going to see if you needed more blankets. It can get chilly here in the morning.”

“Oh, no, that’s alright, you didn’t.”

“When you’re ready, come down for some breakfast, okay? Your handsome friend is already at the table.”

Ven cringed when she left the room.

He freshened himself up and limped down the stairs to the kitchen, alert and awake. When he arrived, Kayn, Albar and Eve were seated around an old wooden table munching away at toast and tea. There was something very unnatural about seeing Kayn eat off of a copper plate as opposed to his usual silverware. In fact, seeing him eat at all was strange, even as they had been travelling. Ven had always had this impression that royalty ate in private, or that they didn’t eat at all and instead feasted on power and admiration.

“Ah, he’s awake! How’s your leg, son?” said Albar. “Claira said she gave you some of her miraculous medicine earlier. Has it worked?”

“It looks like it,” said Ven.

“Excellent. Come, the food is getting cold.”

Ven seated himself next to Eve and helped himself to toast.

“Where exactly did you say you your home was?” Albar asked as he piled a small mountain of jam onto his bread.

“Um…” Ven looked at Kayn. “It’s by Hygon Pass.”

Albar and Eve stared blankly at him, as though waiting for him to continue. “We don’t mean to be so vague,” Ven told them. “It’s just important that we get there as soon as we can.”

“Alright,” said Albar. “I won’t question you further.”

“Will you be leaving, then?” asked Claira, who had entered the kitchen. “It’s not safe to travel on foot outside our town, especially with an injury.”

Kayn shot Ven a dirty look before returning to his food. “I suppose we can stay one more night, if that’s not too much trouble.”

After their stomachs were full, Eve took Ven’s hand and pulled him towards the front door. “I’ll give you a tour of the village. Rude one, you can come too.”

Kayn looked like he wanted to hit her. It took Ven all the effort he had to not burst out laughing. To Ven’s surprise, Kayn followed them out the door. It seemed his curiosity of this unfamiliar town had been piqued.

Once outside, Ven had to shield his eyes from the sun. When his eyes had adjusted, he raised his eyebrows. Nestled between rolling green hills, the small stone cottages were surrounded by colorful flowers and quirky lawn decorations. Children chased each other around the narrow, cobbled streets. As Eve led them around, shopkeepers advertising their goods waved and smiled at her. Ven soaked in the tranquility. Even though the sights and sounds were vibrant and loud, he had never seen a more peaceful place. If he hadn’t been so eager to get home, he could have stayed here for days.

“It’s beautiful here,” said Ven. “What is this village called, again?”

“Oh, this is the town of Pulma,” said Eve. “Daddy says it’s a trading stop between the cities of Crion and Muran. I think Cor was part of the treaty too, but they left for some reason. That kind of hurt our business, see. Cor isn’t far from us and they have a pretty great textiles industry. We used to get a lot of trade cruisers from there passing through here.”

“You know quite a lot for someone so little,” said Kayn. Ven couldn’t tell if he meant it genuinely or not.

Eve puffed out her chest proudly. “I want to be a politician when I’m older, because Mom says they make a lot of money.”

“Is your father in charge of keeping track of all the trade that comes through here?” asked Ven.

“Yeah. Sometimes the village leader gets him to visit Muran or Crion for business. I ask him to take me with him but he never says yes.”

As Eve continued to ramble with her back to them, Ven suddenly remembered his observation from earlier. He pulled out the map the elders had given them and turned to Kayn.

“This village, it’s not on the map.”

“What?” Kayn looked at him sharply.

“There’s no ‘Pulma’ on the map the elders gave us.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Kayn snatched the map from Ven. He scanned it for a moment and frowned. Endless fields stretched out beyond the edges of the forest, with not a single town or village in sight for miles.

“What if we’ve been going the wrong way this entire time?” said Ven.

“The forest we passed is correct on the map,” said Kayn. “This village is probably new. If and when you have a helpful suggestion to make, then by all means, open your mouth. If not, then shut up.”

Ven cursed himself for speaking up in the first place. “I’d throw your food in the dirt, but I wouldn’t want to behave like a four-year-old. It’s unbecoming of a Highborn.” He hoped the spite in his voice was evident enough.

“You know,” Kayn smiled, “it would be terrible if something were to happen to that already injured leg. Wouldn’t it just be awful if you could never use it again?”

Ven flinched.

“Hey, are you people even listening to me?” Eve turned around and scowled at them. Kayn ignored her and walked away, disappearing behind a corner.

“What’s with him?” Eve huffed.

“Hell if I know. Eve, is your dad busy at the moment?”

Kayn’s threat was still ringing in Ven’s ears. He clenched his fists.
I’m not going to be afraid of him anymore.

“I don’t think so,” she said, appearing confused. “We can ask him, though.”

Eve led him back to their cottage and to Albar’s office upstairs. She knocked loudly. “Daddy, Ven wants to talk to you.”

“Tell him to come in.”

Eve pushed Ven inside and closed the door behind her. Albar looked up from his desk. “Ven, how are you? I hope Eve isn’t getting on your nerves.”

“No, not at all. I was wondering if you could help me.”

“Of course. What’s the problem?”

Ven looked down at his knees, turning red. “Could you teach me how to…how to defend myself?”

Albar looked at him, surprised. “You’re travelling on foot through dense forests and fields filled with bandits and you don’t know how to defend yourself? What about your friend? Does he know?”

Ven looked away in shame. “Yes, he knows.”

“Didn’t he have the heart to teach you?”

He wanted to laugh. “He’s….well, I’d rather he not know I need help.”

“Hmm. Alright, I’ll see what I can do. Meet me in the basement in five minutes.”

When he reached the basement, Ven flicked on the lights. It was a large, empty space he assumed was used for storage. Piles of boxes lined a corner. Against the wall, spears, javelins and brass blasters were hung on metal hooks. Minutes later, Albar walked down the stairs to the basement floor.

“Right, let’s get started, then. What do you need help with?”

“Well, everything, actually,” Ven said, as Albar stared at him in disbelief.

“It can’t be helped, I suppose. Place your fists out in front of you, Ven.”

It was embarrassing. When Albar told Ven to come at him with full force and attempt to hit him, Ven swung his arms like a madman, hitting everything but his target.

“You have to aim, and then focus. Clench your fists, draw them back, and punch with all the force you can muster.”

After several rounds of practice, Ven finally managed to aim and hit his mark.

“Getting there,” said Albar. “Now I’m going to teach you how to dodge.”

Dodging was a little easier than hitting, although Ven had a feeling it was because he had good fear reflexes and not because he was in any way skilled.

“Let’s try with a weapon this time, shall we?” Albar said, handing Ven a spear. “Aim at those empty boxes over there.”

They practiced for hours. Ven wanted to bury himself in the ground as he missed five times in a row. He almost felt he deserved to get beaten to death by Kayn.

“Just…just keep trying,” Albar said. “You won’t get it right away.”

By the end of their session, Ven was so frustrated that he wanted to take the spear in his hand and impale himself with it.

The basement door opened and Claira poked her head through. “There you both are. I’ve been looking everywhere. Dinner is ready. Hurry up with whatever you’re doing, would you?”

Albar turned to Ven. “Don’t worry, son. Not everyone has to be an expert fighter. This, like any skill, takes tons of practice. Don’t think too hard on it. Besides, you were starting to get the hang of it.”

“Thanks, Albar,” Ven said dejectedly. “Would it be alright if you kept this a secret from Kayn? It’s important he doesn’t know.”

Albar looked puzzled, but didn’t question him further. “I give you my word.”

“Oh,” Ven said as he hung the spear in his hand back on the wall. “You wouldn’t happen to know the quickest way to Hygon Pass, would you?” Their map was still bothering him.

“That’s in the North, isn’t it? In the Kantor Region. That’s quite far from here. You need to pass by the town of Lamparth in the Ebony Region first. You should get an exact route from there. Lamparth is much larger than our humble village, and the people should be well-informed. You should be able to restock on supplies there too.”

Ven nodded. “There’s something else. Is there a refugee camp of sorts around here? Or anywhere else?” Aside from wanting to make sure Coralie was safe, Ven was also desperate for different company.

“A refugee camp? Not that I know of. Refugees who escape tyranny from the leaders of smaller towns often move to bigger cities where they’ll be able to blend in. That’s all I know.”

Ven’s heart sank.

Albar brushed his hair from his brow and hung up his weapon. “Let’s go. We’d better head upstairs before Claira throws a fit.”

It was early evening when they all sat around the table and laid out the plates. Starving, Ven picked up his cutlery and was about to dive into his meal of fried beans and meat loaf when Claira returned to the kitchen, her face gray. She remained in the doorframe, holding a small cloth in her hand.

“Mom, what is it?” said Eve.

Ven narrowed his eyes at the piece of cloth in Claira’s hand and dropped his fork. It was Kayn’s handkerchief, the one bearing the Coran seal. It was made of a deep, royal blue satin. Ven shot a glance at Kayn, whose face was blank.