Okay, this is chapter two, we all know how this thing goes, right? It is a work of fiction, and as I've created all these characters on my own, then no surprise at that. Questions, comments, concerns, send to Faradhi269@aol.com. Flames will be ignored.
Neriam attempted to dry himself off using the scrap of his shirt before pulling on his short pants and sandals. He immediately set to work, hoping that exertion would stop the chill of the water and the air from settling into his muscles. The day was fading, and Neriam needed desperately to set up a campsite. He pulled several large round stones for the fireplace from the riverside. A heavy wood lay not far from the river, so Neriam decided to make his camp on the leeward side, or within a clearing.
He carefully piled his rocks near the edge of the woods for easier access, and then wandered in them for nearly two hours, gathering twigs and branches as he went along, in order to find a suitable place. Eventually, he happened across one of those hills that just rise up, treeless, in the middle of woods. The grassy knoll rose perhaps twenty feet into the air at its crown with fifteen feet of emptiness around it before the trees began. With an exhausted smile, Neriam dropped his bundle and rushed back to get his rocks.
Hours later, he sat back with a smile, having completed his camp except for the fire. He shivered in the cold and stared up. Above, the cold stars shimmered with a prismatic hue and the moon hid from view. In the darkness, the woods seemed oppressive, but no hint of wind chilled him any further. "I'd better get this fire started quickly," he muttered to himself, "or I'm going to freeze." He searched the stones he'd pulled for flint, unable to find any. "Whelp of a bitch," he uttered under his breath, his cheeks flaming at even this indiscretion. He grabbed rocks at random, banging them together, trying to find any combination that would make a spark, to no avail.
"Ok, Neriam, think. What about a woodbow?" He pulled one of the largest chunks of wood from his pile and grabbed one of the straighter inch-thick branches. Laying the larger one across his lap, he put the smaller one into its center and began to twirl it between his hands. His hands burned from the blisters, and his shoulders screamed at him, but the fire refused to light. Neriam pulled his thin shirt over his slim shoulders and huddled into a ball, shivering as the night grew colder.
Master Adane, slipping silently through the woods found Neriam's campsite and approached it from the back. He had promised not to interfere unless necessary, and he hoped that it would not be although the boy's lack of fire was disturbing. Perhaps thirty yards behind Neriam, the old master sat back on his haunches and watched, his weathered body not even feeling the temperature.
Neriam, meanwhile, looked with intense dislike at the fire. His anger at Master Adane from earlier that day-suppressed by the children-flared up even hotter as he realized the desperate situation he was in. "I'm going to die out here, and it's that old..."
He stopped himself from openly disrespecting a teacher, even in private. The rules of the Order were too ingrained into him. He knew that he needed to move in order to get some heat into his muscles, so he stood and paced around the circle of his futile fire. The cone-shaped woodpile seemed to mock his efforts as he moved around it, and he grew angrier.
The heat of his anger flooded him, allowing him to ignore the cold as he muttered constantly swearwords he'd heard the older Students say when they thought they were alone.
"Damn you! Why won't you LIGHT?!" he finally screamed at the pile. The fire exploded, shooting flames nearly to his shoulder height. He gaped momentarily before his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, as though boneless, to the ground.
Adane started to stand. Apparently the boy was not going to get the fire lit, and Adane did not expect him to last the night. Also apparently, his temper was growing, as the muted muttering became obvious to the old master. Just as Adane stood and prepared to approach Neriam, the boy shouted "light." The stars seemed to intensify and the night coalesced about the boy as deep in the center of the pile of wood a blue-white flame lit, igniting the wood instantly into roaring flames of ordinary color. The old man stopped, amazed and, he admitted to himself privately, frightened by what happened. He cautiously approached the limp form of Neriam and quietly pulled a simple wool blanked from his backpack to lay over the boy. He added some more wood to the intensely burning flame and returned to the monastery deep in thought.
Neriam woke the next morning feeling drained and weak. He was surprised to see the blanked wrapped around him and the embers from the intense fire still glowing slightly. He rose, pulling the blanket around him as he looked up at the sky to gauge the time. Sighing, the boy folded the blanket, kicked some dirt over the rest of the embers, and walked back toward the river and the monastery.
Mordeth waited for him by the entrance, sitting in sieza position. "Neriam," he called out, a big grin on his face. "Where were you last night? I missed you."
Neriam gave his best friend a weary grin before his knees buckled. Mordeth rushed forward and picked up his little friend in his arms. Neriam snuggled into Mordeth's warm chest and fell asleep once more. Mordeth moved as quickly as he could back into the compound to ask one of the Masters what he should do with Neriam. As he entered, he saw Master Adane approaching.
"Master," he bowed awkwardly, cradling his friend to his chest.
"Well well, Mordeth," Adane answered with a small smile. "Taking advantage of your friend are we? That's your worst offense yet. I don't know what to say!"
A look of shock and horror overtook Mordeth's face, and he began to stutter. Adane laughed. "I was only kidding, child. Take him to his room. He has earned his rest."
"And Master," Mordeth began.
Adane gave him a knowing look and Mordeth blushed a deep crimson. "Yes, you may take off lessons today to stay with him. It's irregular, but such brotherly love should be encouraged among our acolytes. Just do not wake him."
Mordeth's color darkened even more, but he bowed once more and rushed toward the dormitory. Adane chuckled slightly and went to Mordeth's and Neriam's instructors to inform them of the absences before entering his chamber to meditate on last night.
Mordeth carried Neriam upstairs to his room that he shared with five other Students. He gently lowered his friend down to his cot, brushing the sandy hair back away from his head. Neriam's skin felt cool, dry, but somehow not right to Mordeth. He removed Neriam's clothes and covered him with the blanket as he rushed down to the kitchen for some warm water. When he returned, he dropped the wooden bucket with a crash and a shout. Neriam's eyes were open and blue-white light was shooting upward from them as his body writhed in pain, his mouth open in a soundless scream. Mordeth ran to his friend, rubbing a comforting hand across his chest and placing the other on his forehead.
"Please, Neriam, calm down. What's happened to you," Mordeth cried. "Oh lord Araman," he called out, "you are master of this monastery. What has he done? What law has he broken?" Upon hearing no answer, seeing no alleviation, the young man angrily yelled, "leave him alone!"
"Mordeth," Master Adane called, rushing in. "What is going on? I heard a sh-" he stopped. "Oh no! Neriam!" The old teacher rushed to the boy, feeling his pulse and running his hand across the nerve centers of the body. "Get some more water, Mordeth, quickly," he ordered, placing his hand over the boy's racing heart.
Mordeth hesitated. "NOW," the old man barked, and the teenager bolted. Master Adane focused his own energy to try to relax Neriam's muscles, but was sent backward with a jolt of blue-white light. Mordeth returned in time to see the old man on the floor with some wisps of smoke rising from his startled form. "Master, what happened," he asked quickly. "I, I do not know," the instructor admitted, "but we must find out. Stay with him, and I will find our healer."
"No, Master," Mordeth begged, "please! He will be expunged from the Order if he is discovered like this!"
"I suppose you are right," Adane admitted, closing his eyes in thought. "Wait here and try to comfort him normally. I will guard the door."
Only moments later, after Adane closed the door behind him, the light ceased and Neriam settled back into the cot, shuddering uncontrollably. Mordeth placed his hand on his friend's breast, trying to comfort him. Neriam felt cold to the touch now, as though all his body heat had fled with the light. Mordeth quickly rushed to the other cots in the room, grabbing the thin wool blankets off them and piling them on Neriam's shivering form. The boy would not warm up, despite Mordeth's constant ministrations of decreasingly hot water from the bucket.
"Come on, Neriam. What is wrong with you?" Neriam would not respond. When the water lost too much heat to be of much use, he put away the washcloth and reclined on the cot next to his friend, pulling them together under the covers, hoping his body heat would help keep his friend warm. They sat like that for several hours when Mordeth felt he could no longer hold his eyes open. He just wasn't used to lying abed for so long. "Lord Araman, help him. Please," he begged, before hugging Neriam even closer and falling into his own worried sleep.
Master Adane opened the door after a few hours to see if Neriam had made any improvement. He looked over to the cot to see a slight sheen of sweat on Mordeth's face wrapped up under the covers holding tight to his friend. Neriam no longer shivered, and a slight smile was on his face. Adane picked up Neriam's clothing from the floor next to the bed and summoned one of the young Novices to launder the clothes and to call the High Master to the dormitory. The boy, one of the newer Novices named Darin bowed and ran off. Nearly half an hour later, High Master Teramon arrived at Neriam's dorm.
Master Adane explained the situation to the High Master, who looked in to see the two youths together. His eyebrows furrowed until Master Adane explained what happened when he tried to use his own abilities to block the shuddering. He neglected to mention, however, the bright light streaming from Neriam's eyes saying only that, "The boy's muscles were screaming in pain, and for some reason, I could not penetrate into them to ease them." High Master Teramon looked surprised. "You are one of our strongest teachers, Adane. What could it be?"
"I do not know, sir," Adane replied, "although the friendship between the two of them did more to help Neriam than anything I did. I ask that this room be closed until he recovers, and we allow Mordeth to remain with him."
"Why go that far? If the boy seems recovered now."
"Sir, did you notice that Neriam is not hot under all the covering and warmth around him, though Mordeth is obviously quite discomfited?"
"Yes," Teramon admitted slowly.
"I think that, were we to take away those things, the boy would be unnaturally chilled again."
"I see. And you blame yourself for him being out all night last night. Don't you?" Adane hung his head slightly. "My friend," Teramon responded, "do not blame yourself. The child will be quite fine. Truly. We will let them rest, and see what tomorrow brings."
"Yes, Master. Thank you. If you will excuse me, I will meditate on my own errors from last night."
"Of course, Adane. Do not overburden yourself with guilt. The child will be fine, and stronger for this ordeal."
The Students complained under their breath and in private, but the other five boys from Neriam's room were placed into other dormitories and the majority slept on the floor. Some of the slimmer ones managed to fit two to a cot. Around midnight, the moonlight shone through the room's only window to form a pool of silvery light on the floor. Mordeth awoke, overheated and looked around the room. -I slept longer than I thought-he mused. -I wonder what time it is?-
He removed his own clothing and a few of the blankets off of him, feeling much cooler, and settled back against Neriam to return to sleep when a glimmer from just below his partially-closed eyes jerked him awake. An indistinct, shimmering figure stood at the foot of their cot. Mordeth froze, wondering what was going on, and tried not to draw any attention to himself. The figure at the bed seemed a youth-perhaps in his very early twenties, and had white blond hair, pale skin, and eyes bluer than anything Mordeth had ever seen. The wraith gently pulled the covers off Neriam, incidentally exposing Mordeth as well. Mordeth blushed and attempted to cover himself and his friend at the same time, but the figure held up a hand, stopping him. Then he leaned over Neriam's prone form and touched a ghostly hand to his feet, hands and heart. Finally, the figure touched Neriam's eyes, and Mordeth heard the faintest musical whisper of "The pain will ease, child, in time," before the figure vanished into wisps of fog and faded away.
Mordeth pulled his eyes away from that spot and wandered down his friend's body as he thought about what happened. Suddenly, he jerked his head up, realizing that he was staring at his best friend naked, and felt uncomfortable. He yanked the covers over them and settled back to go to sleep, noticing before his eyes closed that Neriam pulled him closer and smiled when he did so. Mordeth smiled as well, and finally fell asleep.
In their sleep, the two of them felt together and warm, although they didn't know the other was there. Before him, Mordeth saw many miles before him and had a vision of himself older, more mature and wearing armor wielding a heavy sword against a foe that scared him. He knew only that he would not allow himself to fail his friends.
Neriam, however, saw flames of silver-blue and purple flooding through him, burning him with agony such as he had never felt. But someone's cooling hand put out the flames, and he saw Mordeth, wearing beautiful armor, holding him and protecting him. He saw him and his Mordeth along with several others, ones he didn't recognize, and all surrounding something that frightened him, but only the love of his friends kept him sane, and the warmth and closeness around him lulled him into a more peaceful sleep.