Dedicated (Chapter 2)

Read Chapter 1: Sun

And now...

He found Becker seated at the desk in the near corner of the garage, where the breeze coming in through the overhead doors ruffled his grizzled mane. The sinking sun had turned the sky a blaze of gold, and deep within the shop, rows of incandescent lights had blinked to life over the mechanic bays. The smell of grease mingled with the clanking tools, sputtering engine noises, and muttered curses.

“You’re a courier,” the man said without preamble as Derren seated himself. “And you’ve delivered your commission. Why would you want to rent my apartment?”

“Like most couriers, I have an agreement with the guild to take commissions at any number of local offices. I have a strange personality quirk, Mr. Becker. At my core, I have both a wanderlust and a desire to set down roots in a place.” Though always honest, Derren knew that for this interview he would have to be frank. “This quirk is not entirely of my own making. I’m Dedicated to the moon.”

He could feel the stillness, the intensity, from the other man. “Are you a noble, then?”

Derren answered carefully. “Within the Strathtower Palace in Hetelo, the children of servants and courtiers are encouraged to train with the nobility. All classes, from philosophy to mathematics to defense and weapons training, are open to all children residing there. It is the belief of the monarch, and I agree, that well-educated youth are only an advantage to a population. Of course, there are things done within the palace that are not done by the general working class. Dedication is one of those. I had a comprehensive education, and when I came of age, I decided life within the palace was not nearly as interesting as life outside of it. I took training with the courier guild and began my career.”

“I usually rent only to employees. It’s useful to keep them close.”

“I presume your current residents are the exception to this rule.”

“Of course. I don’t make a habit of exceptions.”

“I have some small skill with engines; the mechanic to the royal fleet tolerated my presence. Most of my abilities are less tangible.”

“No doubt. Still, you appear to be a singularly naïve young man.”

Derren leaned forward, let the mask fall from his face, dropped the modulation from his voice. He let Becker see him, all of him. “Appearances can be deceiving.”

A barely perceptible gesture from his prospective landlord, three times. Footsteps from within the garage, approaching him. These employees were more than mechanics.

Derren stood, removing and carefully folding his courier jacket. He grinned, hard and fierce, the sliver of the new moon just visible outside as the overhead door closed, hiding the business inside the garage as three men converged on him.

~~~~~~~~

The whiskey was very strong, and very good. He hated to bleed into it.

He ignored the sting on his split lip as he took another sip, letting it burn pleasurably down his throat, ignoring also the thin trickle of blood in the cup.

He should have avoided the split lip. Becker’s men were good, but he’d been trained by the Captain of the Guard of the monarch of the Askov Heteran Empire. At least they’d gotten one swing on him, which was not always bad. Sometimes fighting too well, with unknown opponents, caused resentment.

He lifted the cup in their general direction, then toward Becker, before downing his third sip.

“Did I pass the test adequately?” he asked, his bland mask back in place.

“And what do you feel you’ve passed?”

“Either a rental application, or an employment application. Likely both.”

“And you agree with this?”

“As I mentioned earlier to T’qars-alek, new places invigorate me. Residency and employment are both excellent ways to learn the workings of a city.”

“I’ve never had a courier working for me before,” Becker replied. “That could be useful.”

“I feel obligated to tell you that anything I deliver while wearing this jacket must be legitimate. Courier guild rules forbid delivery of unsafe or illegal packages.”

“So, maybe sometimes you don’t wear the jacket.”

Derren paused, then nodded. “Maybe sometimes I don’t.”

“Do you want to see the apartment before making a final decision?”

He shook his head. “I assume it’s much like the other one. I’m less concerned with the apartment itself than I am with the windows within it. Although, I do have to ask if the color scheme is the same?”

Becker actually laughed. “That’s their doing, not mine. But,” he sobered, “I assume you know who lives in that apartment.”

“Yes.”

“No, you don’t. I rent to Cadi, who works at a shop in the marketplace, and T’qars, who has the voice of an angel. When she is rehearsing a performance, business here comes to a standstill so we can all appreciate the taste of heaven. They’re nice girls, a nice couple, though...unconventional, in more ways than one. They don’t go out together much in public, because of that. But I don’t tolerate any harassment or disrespect. Do you understand?”

“Clearly.”

He held the older man’s eyes for a long moment, watching the equations happening in Becker’s mind. Finally his new landlord and employer came to a decision, nodded to himself, and tossed Derren a set of keys.

“Welcome home.”

~~~~~~~~

He had told the landlady at the hostel, earlier in the day, that he would no longer be staying there. She hadn’t questioned it; couriers came and went. And though he had mentioned the lack of privacy to Becker, he hadn’t spelled out just what that meant. He’d learned to let people draw their own conclusions.

He never should have gotten hit tonight. Only three attackers? He had slipped, and he couldn’t afford to slip.

He needed to renew his Dedication.

As a young child in the Palace, he hadn’t known that not everyone was Dedicated. As an older child, he couldn’t understand why parents would forgo that blessing for their children. It was only as he became a teenager, and the world shifted from black-and-white to shades of grey, and he began his training, that he learned of the cost.

Deep in the night, when the reputable parts of the city were sleeping, he climbed onto the roof. His new apartment had the proper windows, and most nights they would be sufficient, but tonight called for something more. It had been too long. Tonight he needed the open sky and the moon’s full gaze on his naked soul.

Tradition dictated the oldest child be Dedicated to sun, second to moon, third to earth, then water, then wind, then stone. Most parents nowadays discarded the tradition; the benefits of moon Dedication were not as tangible or glamorous as of the other potentates. Derren’s parents had discarded many traditions, but this one they kept. Perhaps it was because their second had been born at the dark of the new moon; a dark moon added dark aspects.

On the roof, above the city, Derren fell to his knees and lifted his eyes, gazing up at the tiny sliver of a moon near full dark. Holding it in his sight and his thoughts, he emptied his mind and began the incantation.

He felt the moon shift onto him and draw forth the energy from his body. Every nerve ending and muscle fiber seized as the life force left it. He swayed on his knees, fought to stay upright as the moon weighed the worthiness of his very soul.

Yes, there was a cost. And if you were unable to pay it, you would die.

“The more you use the moon’s gifts, the more it will bestow on you," his old mentor had told him, “and the more closely it will judge you. Do not be frightened of the pain. The more pain, the better the regard. Unused gifts wither and die like unharvested fruit on the vine.”

The more pain, the better the regard…

He could not fall. He could not cry out. He held his ground, held his worthiness. His heart slowed as the very life was pulled from it.

And then....

Dark light, dark energy flooded into him. It suffused him, quenching his body, filling his lungs with breath and his heart with blood, soaking into every aspect of his being. He felt his gifts, the aspect of the moon itself that resided within him, pulse through every part of him, lifting him into transcendence.

Finally he let himself collapse, falling backwards onto the rough surface, muscles relaxing as the sweat dripped from him, secure in his Dedication.

The dark moon smiled down upon him.

Below him, in the apartment that was not his, he heard a window open and a light step out onto the fire escape.

His body still buzzing with the whiplash of his reDedication, he was able to roll over and crawl into the shadow of a vent as someone else ascended to the roof.

He recognized her silhouette immediately, the translucent wings fanned out on either side of her. She stood for a minute, arms and face raised to the sky and wind blowing through her hair. Then her wings began to beat, the top and bottom sets pulsing in coordinated harmony as she lifted off the asphalt.

Only then did it occur to him how much of a stranger she was to this land. He, who had been raised in a palace, had only ever seen Anisopterans a handful of times when diplomatic delegations visited the court. He had never seen one fly; had not known for certain that they could fly until now. Their wings were so delicate as to seem vestigial. It made sense that T’qars-alek only felt safe flying at night, hidden in the dark of the moon. And yet she was here for a reason, and he had seen her carefully schooled face light up when Cadias had walked into the room.

She was wearing a similar look now, pure joy suffusing her features as she rose on the wind to disappear into the night.

~~~~~~~~

He avoided his neighbors; it was not difficult..

His work for Becker was best done at night, away from the light of day, and when his abilities were strongest. He slept in the mornings when his neighbors were most active. The walls were thin; he knew when he could safely leave.

He followed each of them, of course, until he knew their routine. Day by day he grew to know both their lives and the city. And he took sporadic courier commissions as the need arose; though he limited his commissions to the area surrounding the city. He had no desire to leave for days at a time.

He also had no desire to have his courier persona officially associated with the duties he performed for Becker, so he was very careful in the commissions he accepted.

It was during one of those commissions on the north side of the city, among the high-end houses far from his neighborhood, that he saw a familiar face. He had trained with this man once, while they were both youths living in the Palace. A capable fighter, the other man had gone on to join the imperial guard and had worked his way up to investigator.

Derren had known this would happen eventually, and he debated briefly, before he allowed himself to be seen. He thanked all the powers of all the potentates that he was wearing his courier uniform.

He caught the other man’s gaze and watched Corbal’s eyes open wide as he hurried over.

“Your--” Corbal began, before Derren grasped his hand and effectively cut him off.

“Corbal! I did not think to see someone I knew this far from home! What brings you to Melefran?”

“An errand for the Empire, of course.”

“Of course, of course. Bear with me; I must deliver my commission.” Derren made a show of shifting his messenger bag. “But it’s good to see you again! Do you have time for drinks later?”

“I expect to be in town for at least a few days.”

“Good. Where are you staying?”

Corbel named the hotel, a nice one--far nicer than the hostel that Derren had stayed at when he had arrived--and Derren named a pub near there.

“I’ve not yet been there, myself, but I’ve heard they have the best whiskey in the city, and the food’s not half bad. Shall we meet in, say, two hours?”

Corbal’s grin was not forced; Derren’s gregariousness could work wonders. “I’d love to. See you soon.”

“You too, old friend!”

~~~~~~~~

After the food and drinks were ordered, Corbal wasted no time starting a friendly, subtle interrogation. Under other circumstances, Derren would have been impressed.

“You’re a long way from home too,” he said, “and it’s been a while. Why Melefran?”

Corbal was wind Dedicated, Derren remembered. Not excessively bright, but persistent, and able to get through obstacles to see to the heart of a matter. He would have to be careful.

“Truth be told, it’s not entirely random,” Derren replied. “I’ve been working my way outward, through the secondary cities. And for the same reason you have, I assume.”

Corbal lowered his voice. “Cadias?”

“Why else?”

“And have you found anything?”

“Of course, it’s impossible to search an entire city in a few weeks. But I’ve been doing business throughout the whole city, and I’ve kept my eyes open. At this point, I’m just taking a few more commissions to pay the rent. If you’re on the same mission I am, you may want to move on.”

Corbal seemed to deflate a little. “You’re certain?”

Derren shrugged. “Unless the crown princess is living in some tiny shack in the slums. But I’m certain she does not live around here.”

“Well, I’ll poke around. It’s why I’m here. But you have likely saved me some time. Damn!”

“Oh, it can’t be that bad, can it?”

“There’s only so far her trail can go. I’ll have to keep moving.”

“Tomorrow, of course. You’re here now, and the drinks are good. And I’ve been away from the capital too long. What passes in Hetelo?”

“Well, the Prince Regent has passed a new policy--”

“No, no, no! Who wants to hear about politics? I’m talking gossip.” Derren actually did want to hear about politics. Corbel wasn’t the only one who could conduct a friendly interrogation. But he would be more likely to get the information he needed later, once more drinks were involved. “What about you? Any windy women catch your eye lately?”

Corbel actually sighed. “No. There’s just not that many wind-Dedicated. People don’t have enough kids to follow the traditional order. And when they do, they want something glamorous like the sun, or useful like water or earth.”

“Oh, tell me about it. Moon’s supposed to be for the second-born. But none of the nobles want a nondescript kid. And moon-touched aren’t exactly given to settling down. I certainly don’t want to; I’m happy traversing the empire as a courier.”

Corbel narrowed his eyes slightly. “I always rather admired your moon powers. But they seemed to be unusually strong.”

“Eh, dark moon and all that.” Derren waved his hand dismissively. “So no windy woman to soul-bond with. But surely there are plenty of other dalliances for an imperial guard.”

“That’s the problem. There’s this water-Dedicated, Alyna. From the coastal provinces, came to court a few months ago. It started as a dalliance. But lately…”

“Oh dear.”

“Yeah. Somehow it’s gotten serious. But she can’t break her Dedication without being disowned, and I can’t break mine without repercussions in the Guard. I just don’t know.”

Derren winced in sympathy. “That’s tough, man.” Jealousy was a human emotion, but the potentates didn’t tolerate a mixed soul-bonding. Dedication could be broken, but it was a complex, difficult process; and a new Dedication afterwards may or may not take. To be judged and found unworthy meant losing part of your soul and usually your life. “I’ve got no good solutions for you, other than to hope it doesn’t work out. But that’s no good either.” Derren raised his glass. “To Alyna, and to love that finds a way.”

Corbel raised his in unison. “To Alyna.”

They both downed their drinks, and Derren called for another round. The night was young and, as genuinely sympathetic as he was toward his friend’s plight, he had other topics to discuss.

~~~~~~~~

The next day, seemingly by coincidence, Derren was locking his apartment at the same moment Cadias left hers. He stepped back, turned to leave, and collided with her.

“Please accept my apologies!” he said hastily, sketching a bow. “I am so sorry.”

She tilted her head, lips pursed and hands on hips, and blocked the hallway.

“Okay, this has gone on long enough. I know this wasn’t an accident. What game are you playing at, Derren?”

He dropped his mask immediately. Finally, he no longer needed it.

“Can’t a brother check on his sister? I do worry for your safety.”

He could sense her rising anger, the golden light that seemed to surround her growing in intensity. “Well, I’m fine. I have been fine, and I remain fine. So you can just run back to mother and father--”

“They don’t know I’m here.”

“What?” Whatever she had expected, he could tell that wasn’t it. “But the letter--”

“I sent it.”

“You what? You hired yourself to send a letter you wrote?”

“Yes. I am a guilded courier, you know, and the royal family receives priority commission.”

“But...why? That’s--”

“Not the craziest thing you’ve known me to do, is it? Would you have accepted the letter from any other courier? Would you have accepted me, in any other circumstances?”

She just stared at him. “Derren de ona Apini Strattham, you are the most infuriating brother I have!”

“And that says something, considering our other siblings. I love you too, sister dear. But there are things we must discuss. May we talk?”

“I was on my way to work.”

“I know. And if you miss work today, I will pay you. I know you’ve not been drawing on the treasury, and I know what a job in the market pays. Let me help.”

“I don’t need your charity. Just let me make a call first.” She glanced over her shoulder at her own door.

“Is T’qars-alek at home? She is welcome to join the conversation, although the subject may get personal.”

“There is nothing I wouldn’t say in front of her. But no. She’s at a rehearsal today.”

“Is that what I’ve heard her practicing lately? We’ve all been greatly enjoying it. I have to say, Becker didn’t lie about that--she does have the voice of an angel.”

Cadias’s mouth tilted in a half grin. “I know. Okay. Just let me call in to work. Then I’ll meet you in your apartment.”

He nodded, aware of the risk he was taking. She might leave. She might lock herself in her own apartment, and not come out. Neither would be large obstacles to him, of course, but telling her that wouldn’t exactly inspire trust. And he trusted her.

He turned, and unlocked the door he had so recently locked.

See how it ends. Read Chapter 3: Wind