Violet Path (15 page)

His warm, soft touch and aquatic, blue eyes were engraved in my mind.

Maybe I did have a weakness for him, but I couldn’t. He was my mentor, teacher, and leader, and I was supposed to be a boy. I had practically just met him, yet it felt as if I had known him for a long time. I watched him walk away and promised to never reveal my heart’s emotions, not even to myself.

I waited for him to be out of my sight before continuing my cold walk to lunch. I was one of the last people to sit at the table. Having felt all giddy from Maxime’s touch, I put in more effort to fit in as a guy. I slouched, but kept a wide stance as I walked and clenched my jaw firmly. My heart raced, knowing that I wasn’t like them, especially when I tried to lower my voice and failed. Everyone was already eating, so I unwillingly sat next to T.J. We gladly ignored each other as we ate in silence, remembering Marc’s absence.

Every spoonful of soup slowly flowed down my throat, warming my body and organs. I wasn’t cold anymore until a slight breeze brushed against my neck. Suddenly, T.J. lifted his arm and spilled my soup in my lap. I jumped up, my skin scorching and burning. Everyone froze and stared at me. Fire lit up my cheeks, and I wanted to vanish. I glared at T.J., and he smiled. “Sorry,” he said sarcastically.

“Come, Alex, I have an extra set of clothes,” said Maxime as he got up from his seat. I followed him to his cabin in silence, my face red and hung down with embarrassment.

“I’ll hopefully get you another uniform, but for now we’ll do with what we have. You didn’t get a second set, did you?” he said in an irritated tone.

“No,” I muttered, “but I have what I was wearing when I first got here.”

“You can’t wear clothes from Tamizeh! What are you thinking?”

I remained quiet and just followed him into his cabin.

He quickly pulled off his thick sweater and shirt and handed them to me, then turned around. “Here, put these on,” he said in an annoyed tone.

I felt segregated, as if even he was embarrassed by me. I wanted to defend myself and tell him that T.J. had spilled the soup, but I didn’t. I was almost certain that he would simply see it as an excuse or desperate attempt to redeem myself, and he was already frustrated and probably didn’t want to listen to any complaints about me not getting along with another soldier.

Awkwardly, I tugged his shirt and sweater over my head, trying to make them fit. They were really big and made me feel tiny. I rolled the sleeves up, but they kept falling down to my knees.

As Maxime buttoned the last two buttons of his collar, he smiled and started to laugh. “It’s definitely not your size, but it’ll have to do. Here,” he said as he took his belt off. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and I could smell his delicate scent of pinecones and honeysuckles. He pulled the belt around me and tied it. Then he tugged on the shirt and sweater and took a couple of steps back.

“It doesn’t look too bad,” he laughed.

“Thank you,” I replied softly. He asked me for my dirty clothes and told me that he would have them cleaned. As I handed them to him, I felt like a child who needed to be dressed and taken care of. He then told me to get my horse and wait for the rest of The Shadows by the edge of the camp. I nodded and thanked him on my way out.

The last thing he had told me before lunch was to be careful, and I hadn’t been able to follow that order for more than ten minutes. I was pathetic.

I walked into the forest and whistled the tune to call Storm. She came quickly, as though she had been nearby, waiting for me. She had a shiny, black saddle on her back and metal stirrups with black leather reins.

I stroked her from her eyes to the soft, cushiony part of her nose. I could feel her nostrils flare as she breathed calmly. At least she accepted me.

I put my right foot in the stirrup as I held onto her thick, black mane. I quickly pushed my weight onto Storm’s back and swung my leg over to put my foot into the other stirrup. I pushed up my sleeves and took the reins. I smelled Maxime’s scent in the air and closed my eyes. I quickly opened them again when I heard someone whistle a tune, then another, and another. People started to show up in small groups. They were all wearing the same black uniform like Maxime’s.

Nick was leading my group on a dark, chocolate stallion. He rode to me with great control.“Next time T.J. gives you a hard time, tell us and we’ll knock some sense into him. After all, you’re one of us,” he said as his eyes roamed around, making sure no one else was listening.

I thanked him and found a spot in my group’s line. A streak of warmth and energy streamed down my back and trickled into my heart, making it swell with pride. I had never heard such welcoming words. I wasn’t just another soldier, but one from a tight unit. I remembered my high school and how I had always been the odd one out. H.S.H.S. hadn’t been any better, and then The Shadows had been the same: surviving on my own and relying on myself. Now I had a team, and I could count on them when I was in trouble. And I had Maxime. I was no longer alone. For the first time in my life, I truly felt like part of the group, and I couldn’t stop smiling.

When Maxime showed up, I avoided his eyes, still embarrassed and obsessed with his warm touch. He trotted in front of us on his horse and another stallion was being pulled behind him. He talked to us about Marc, then told us to follow him in an orderly fashion to the cemetery.

We rode in a direction I had never gone, and there was no way that I would find my way back if I were lost. The wind bit at my nose and rustled my shirt like a flag. My eyes squinted as tears started to form from the bitter wind. I trusted Storm not to stray away from the group. My stomach felt like a fifty-pound weight. I could hardly breathe as we rode against the cold wind. The discomfort only increased as we approached Marc’s resting place. Regardless of the people who were trying to kill me, I was alive, and I had indirectly caused his life to end.

“Hey, Alex! Are you all right?”

I struggled to open my eyes. It felt like my eyelashes were glued together with tears. Sam was speaking to me, but I was hardly listening. My thoughts were too mixed up. I nodded instead.

Horse by horse, we came to a halt, like a domino effect. We were at a small clearing in the forest, and crosses protruded from the ground in rows. There was a mound of dirt ahead of us with a huge crowd of women, children, and men dressed in black. A hover-board was carrying Marc’s body enclosed by a crystal casket.

Marc was lying peacefully with his hands on his abdomen, holding a purple tulip and a blue rose. He was dressed in the same black suit that everyone else was wearing. My heart sank again.

We all got off our horses and left them behind as we walked toward the ceremony. We stood in a circle with Marc in the center, like the sun in the galaxy. Everyone was wearing black, but Marc’s shiny casket caught glimpses of light and bounced them off in every direction, lighting up the crowd.

A young woman, who was crying, stood next to Marc’s casket. She had red lips, and her blonde hair looked like honey. She was shivering. As she brought her white handkerchief to her face to wipe away her tears, I saw a silver band wrapped around her ring finger. She must have been Marc’s fiancée. I had taken his life and destroyed hers.

We were cold and crying as we quietly listened to Maxime’s voice in the wind. I couldn’t help but feel like everyone was staring at me, screaming, “Murderer!” I wanted to disappear, but on some level I felt like I deserved the shame and guilt.

The funeral ended, and everyone started to clear the premises. I noticed David talking to Maxime as we waited for orders to leave. David seemed in pain, refusing to stand up straight or walk strongly. He looked at me quickly, then turned away and joined the crowd. Our orders were to ride back to the camp in our groups and go straight to dinner.

We left the cemetery, and Marc would never be seen again.

Chapter 14

“Get your staff and meet me at my cabin,” Maxime said as we were walking in the darkness. I nodded and did as I was told, but also took my towel and change of clothes. It was very dark, but the moon helped me find my way to his cabin. He was waiting for me with his staff and two black bags. He had changed into his casual clothes and had let his combed hair fall naturally. He motioned for me to follow, and we walked away from the blazing fire.

When we got to the clearing, he dropped his bag and faced me. I could hardly see him, but quickly realized that the fight had started.

Maxime attacked; I blocked. I attacked; he blocked. He punched; I kicked. I jumped; he rolled. We were moving everywhere, but neither of us was winning or losing. I felt as if we were dancing. Suddenly, he pushed me against a tree so that I could hardly move, but the fight wasn’t over.

“You forgot that the tree was there. Focus. Remember what is around you and use it to your advantage. Don’t let me manipulate you.” Maxime’s face was so close that our noses were almost touching. His eyes were a frozen blue. I closed my eyes and pictured where we were, focusing all of my strength on pushing him away. Why was he stronger than I, even with the S.S. Pill? I was breathing heavily as he leaned into me.

With a quick move, I nailed him to the tree behind him. I was smiling. “Forgot about the tree?” I teased, and he chuckled before pushing me back. I caught my balance and blocked his attack. I stayed on defense for a long time before I tripped him. We kept fighting and were starting to get tired, so Maxime spoke, “Truce? I need to leave soon.”

“Tired?” I asked, trying to catch my breath.

“Not really, but a bit.” He smiled.

“Then let’s go.” I lowered my staff and headed to the showers with him. It was too cold to sweat, but we weren’t frozen either.

When we arrived at the showers, he handed me a black bag. “It’s your armor. Please try it on to see if it fits. It’s kind of complicated, so if you put on the first layer, I can help you with the rest.”

“Thanks,” I replied, took the bag, and walked in. I turned the shower on before undressing, then called Maxime in. I heard the door creak open and then fall shut. He turned on the shower next to mine. I then turned the water off, stepped out, and quickly dried off. I found a clean wound dressing in the black bag and wrapped it around myself. I then looked into the bag more carefully—everything was black. Some pieces were cloth, some leather, the others metal. I pulled out a one-piece suit that looked a lot like a winter leotard. It was skintight and fit perfectly, but it was very thin and not very warm. I tried my best to zip up the suit in the back, but to no avail.

I looked through the bag, excited like a child opening presents on Christmas morning before anyone else was awake.

“Can I come out?” asked Maxime.

“Sure! Sorry, I forgot. I’m not facing you.” I turned around and shut my eyes. I heard him step out and unzip his bag.

“You can turn around now,” Maxime said. I opened my eyes and saw his reflection in the mirror in front of me. He was dressed in his black uniform. His wet, curly hair was covering his eyes, and when he pushed the hair away, his wet eyelashes accentuated his bright, blue eyes. He smiled. I started to turn around, but he placed his hands on my shoulders and stared at me in the mirror. I felt his warm hand slowly lift the zipper up, closing my suit. He then turned me around.

“Well, it seems to fit you very well. How does it feel? Comfortable?”

“It’s perfect, thanks,” I replied, still star-struck by his gorgeous eyes.

He handed me a pair of pants. They were somewhat baggy and had a lot of pockets. I slipped them on while he handed me a pair of black leather knee-high boots that laced up in the back. They looked very feminine, but apparently everyone here wore them. I laced them up as quickly as I could, tucking my pants into them. He then handed me a black leather belt that broke into two parts on the left side. I wrapped it around my waist and looked at Maxime, who was observing my every move.

“Not to make you feel self-conscious or anything, but you model the armor better than any guy I know,” he laughed.

“Thanks,” I answered and shyly looked away.

“I didn’t mean that. What I meant to say was . . . um . . . how ’bout I just shut up?” Maxime stumbled on every word and laughed. I didn’t want him to shut up; I liked his voice. It was calm and soothing.

He pulled out two small pieces of metal and leather that he then laced up my forearms. He then took a larger piece of metal to protect my torso and laced it up my back. It was too quiet, and I was getting nervous.“Why is David so dark and gloomy?” was all I could come up with.

“Because he lost everything,” Maxime’s tone darkened.

“What’s everything?”

“Loved ones.”

“Family?”

“And fiancée.”

I had already gone too far, but Maxime noticed my intrigue and elaborated, “He was in the forest with her. Her name was Alice. She looked a lot like you. Anyway, Matthew’s men attacked them. One of Matthew’s men held her and stood with his back to David. David shot and killed him, but the bullet went through the man and Alice’s heart. A small genocide directed by rage followed as David killed every last one of Matthew’s men and then carried Alice back to Maria. He buried her in the same cemetery where we just buried Marc. A month after Alice’s death, Maria was attacked by Gorlan, another community who had supported Matthew until he destroyed them as well, and a few weeks later, we split up and settled closer to H.S.H.S. Maria and The Shadows used to be one camp.”

I was speechless. How could I have hated David? He had been through so much. I couldn’t blame him anymore. I found it harder and harder to breathe. I felt terrible, but it all made sense. “I’m sorry,” I murmured.

“Don’t be. You weren’t there; Alice was. And I was there. I should have done something, but didn’t,” Maxime lowered his voice.

“I’m sorry. You said he lost family as well, so you’re a victim as much as he is. Don’t blame yourself,” I said, trying to be helpful.

“We’re brothers, but not related by blood, so no, I’m not a victim like him.”

“I’m sorry—”

“You say ‘sorry’ a lot,” he interrupted.