Vitiosi Dei (Heritage of the Blood Book 2) (8 page)

              As the Headmistress said his mother's name, a small wave of recognition surged throughout the crowd, but as she said his father's name the crowd once again erupted into thousands of conversations. Shawnrik looked towards his new roommate for support, but Verrian looked like he was choking, his face was so pale.

              The names themselves had meant nothing to Shawnrik, who had recognized neither of them. The fact that Pedrial was his grandfather explained a lot, and Shawnrik was beginning to think of a million questions for the old smith. One thought stuck out amongst all the others though: if his mother's last name was Lightfeather and his father's was Heartstone, where did the name Larston come from? Once again, the Headmistress was ahead of him.

              “When Aerick left his tribe,” a fresh wave of something Shawnrik couldn't recognize came forth from several sections of the crowd, but the Headmistress talked over them, “Lilly went with him, and since Aerick was no longer willing to accept the name Heartstone, he changed his last name to Larston when he and Lilly married. The ceremony took place in the Church of Cypheria in the heart of Safeharbor, and a year later they had a son.”

              At this point, the conversation in the crowd hit a climax, and several of the boys seemed to notice the look that Verrian was giving him, correctly interpreted its meaning, and began nudging their neighbors. Suppressing a groan, Shawnrik tried not to look at anyone around him, but as he began to lower his head, he caught a glimpse of one of the girls below him. She was part of the group that he had been watching earlier, her head had been facing front of the amphitheater, so all he could see was her hair, but as she began scanning the crowd he couldn't help but feel that there was something familiar about her. Sweeping her gaze around the crowd, it didn't take long for Shawnrik to see her face, and when he did, his mouth dropped open in shock.

             
Olivia?
It was the gypsy girl from the Blood Orc camp where they had all been held prisoner a year and a half before.
How the...
his thoughts were cut short as the crowd once again reached a quiet hum under the steady gaze of their Headmistress.

              “Their story, however, was not to be a happy one for long. Nearly two years after their son was born, Lilly and Aerick were the victims of what the authorities deemed as a 'random act of violence.' According to the report, the pair died as their home was torn to pieces by these so called robbers.”

              A new wave of conversation arose, but this one seemed steeped in a healthy dose of disbelief. Shawnrik too was in disbelief. He had just learned the names of his parents, and now he was learning that they had been murdered by a gang of thugs. The emotions that were at war within him were as confusing as the cacophony of sound coming from the students around him.

              “Somehow, their son managed to escape this attack, most likely aided by the dying breaths of his parents, and he became an orphan on the streets of the largest city in the world. These circumstances never allowed him the benefit of a formal education.”

              Once again, the students began to talk amongst themselves, this time the emotions behind the sentiment varied greatly: there was awe, sympathy, and more than a few snide comments about an ignorant street rat being let into the Institute. Shawnrik's jaw began to clench. He wasn’t sure which he liked less, the sympathy or the snide comments, but it wouldn’t have been long before he started tossing people around were it not for the Headmistress's next words.

              “Some of you will no doubt misconstrue this fact, and think that because of his circumstances, he is an ignorant street urchin; it is for this reason that I even broach the topic at all. With no resources and no one to turn to for help, this boy survived on the streets of Safeharbor alone for nearly eight years, a feat that many adults would find daunting. Around the age of ten, he joined up with other children who were in the same situation as he was, and they survived in the only way available to them—by doing whatever was necessary to make it through the day. During this time, this young man learned several harsh lessons that I hope most of you will never have the opportunity to learn. Think about everything that this young man has gone through and his lack of resources, and know that during this time he still managed to learn to read and write.”

              Shawnrik wondered why the Headmistress had neglected to mention that it was Victor who had taught him to read and write. He knew that she must have looked over the papers that Instructor Daymarr had written on earlier that day, so the omission must have been on purpose. Part of him was mad at this woman for knowing so much more about his history than he himself knew, but another part was glad that she had not mentioned his friend's name publicly.

              “He left Safeharbor in the company of a pair of notable individuals before his fourteenth birthday. After a trying series of events, he came to the attention of Elder Lightfeather, who happened to be leading a scouting party in the area at the time. He has since been accepted by the village of Tranquility Mist. To quell a multitude of rumors, I would like to now introduce you to this young man. Please give him time to adjust, and treat him with the respect you would give to any of your peers.”

              Shawnrik didn't think that it was possible for an area this full of people to be so quiet. Every conversation had stopped, and everyone seemed to be holding their breath.

              “Shawnrik, would you please stand,” the Headmistress said, eyes scanning the crowd.

              Shawnrik watched Olivia sit down quickly when every eye in the bowl began to search for the standing person, but she continued the search along with everyone else. Verrian began to poke him in the ribs, and Shawnrik felt like he would rather go back to being a prisoner of the Dracair than be here in this moment. He thought that maybe if he remained still, he could ignore it, and pretend like he had missed the welcoming ceremony, but just as the thought crossed his mind the Headmistress's gaze locked onto him.

              Shawnrik had never felt so defeated, and as he rose he began to release some of the tension on his muscles that he hadn't realized had been building during the last few minutes. He heard and felt it as every head in the amphitheater locked onto his form. Not knowing what to do, he stood as straight as he could and nodded to the Headmistress, resisting the urge to give the crowd a timid little wave.

              A second after he stood, Olivia jumped up and started waving furiously. When his gaze dropped towards her, she shouted, “Hi Shawnrik!”

              “Hey Olivia,” he replied. The smile that he slid into place was made all the easier to maintain because of her excitement when she realized he remembered her. She looked at him and clapped her hands in unrestrained mirth. It would be difficult for any man to remain stone-faced when confronted with that kind of attention from a pretty young woman. Shawnrik realized that he was indeed no exception to that rule before he remembered where he was, and he felt his face begin to heat up.

              The murmur of voices began to crescendo to new heights before becoming a dull roar. Embarrassed beyond a point that he had thought possible, Shawnrik shrank back, and plopped down into his seat.

              “You know Olivia?” Verrian asked, a stupid grin plastered across his face.

              “It's not like that...” Shawnrik began to say, but he chose that moment to look down towards the group of girls who now sat around Olivia in animated conversation. He had barely gotten halfway through his denial when Olivia, still staring at him while sitting amongst all of those girls, winked at him playfully.

              “Sure,” Verrian said, that stupid grin spreading even further.

              Shawnrik decided to make a special point of studying the palms of his hands for the next few minutes. Glancing down at the stage to see what the Headmistress was doing, he noticed that she had not moved a muscle, allowing the conversation to run its course. He couldn't be sure, but he thought that there was a smirk on that hideous face of hers.

             
Women!
The thought came unbidden, but after a moment's consideration, he decided that he agreed with the sentiment wholeheartedly. Shawnrik knew what the talk in the dorms would be tonight and for the next few nights, and it was all because of those damn women.
Why did either of them have to do that?
A dozen reasons flitted through his mind for each woman, and he didn't like any of them. A moment later, he thought of a different reason for Olivia's actions. The thought made him pause, but he vowed not to show that he might be excited about that prospect.

              Once the sound had dropped to a low buzz, the Headmistress continued talking once again, and Shawnrik was glad that it was no longer about him. He tried to tune out all of the noise around him, but he kept hearing his name mentioned. He ignored what accompanied it.

              Shawnrik noticed that Verrian had begun to adopt his somber mood, his new roommate coming to the realization of what Shawnrik was going through. “I know a shortcut back to the Dorms. When we get released, we can get lost in the crowd and escape,” Verrian whispered conspiratorially.

              “That would be great,” Shawnrik sighed. He had been dreading the walk back to his room.

              True to his word, Verrian was up and moving through the crowd with Shawnrik in tow as soon as the Headmistress dismissed the students back to their dorms. Shawnrik hunched his body, attempting to imitate what he had seen Ashur do to make his body look smaller. If anyone had recognized him on their way through the crowd, it had been too late for them to impede their progress forward.

              They turned off into a small corridor, quickly changing from a walk to a run, and they arrived at their dorm room at the same time as they began to hear the sound of the outer doors opening on the other end of the hall. Footsteps echoed throughout the hall as Shawnrik closed the door to their room.

              “We shouldn't be bothered tonight,” Verrian said as he dropped onto his bed and removed his shoes.

              Shawnrik felt emotionally exhausted, but he realized that he hadn't done any of his drills today. Needing something familiar to calm his thoughts, Shawnrik looked around the room trying to decide what he would need to do to make enough room for his forms. The first thing he did was place his chest on top of the table, and move the table towards the other corner of the room below Verrian's bed. After that he took the two chairs and placed them on top of Verrian's chest. Lastly, he moved his bed so that it was flush with the door, and just like that he had a practice space.

              Verrian had silently watched him move everything, obviously curious. When Shawnrik pulled his axe out of his chest, Verrian's eyes lit up in understanding, and Shawnrik knew that he had his roommate’s full attention. When he began to go through his routines, Verrian moved to the far corner of his bed, as far away from the weapon as possible, his eyes riveted on its movements.

              “You didn't learn to do that on the streets, did you?" Verrian asked after some time had passed. His tone was thoughtful, and it had been a statement as well as a question.

              “No,” Shawnrik replied, not missing a beat. “I'll tell you...” Shawnrik sighed, “... just not tonight.” He finished the statement a little more firmly than he had meant to, and he stopped to apologize, but Verrian was already waving him off.

              “Don't worry about it, I know I'm nosy. You just had most of your life story laid out for public scrutiny, and here I am trying to dig out more tasty tidbits, like a vulture working on a corpse. We are going to be roommates all year—we may as well take our time getting to know each other.

              Shawnrik nodded. He found that he liked his roommate a little more as he got to know the small man. The Half-Elf's curiosity reminded Shawnrik of Victor's, and while he knew that Verrian could never take Victor's place, it was still good to have someone around that he thought he could consider a friend. He switched to his sword and began to run through several routines that Ashur had taught him. The sword had been intended for use with two hands when Ashur had gifted him with it, but now Shawnrik was easily able to handle it in one.

              He stood, holding the last move in place as he finished the final routine as the events of the day played out in his mind. One thing had kept coming back to him throughout his exercise, and that had been the way the students had reacted to his parents' names.

              “Verrian.” Shawnrik said as he stowed the axe.

              “Yeah?” Verrian replied.

              “When Headmistress Blackbriar said my parents' names, it seemed like everyone knew who they were and had varying opinions on them. Do you know anything about them?”

              “Not much,” Verrian said as he stood to help Shawnrik move the furniture back into place. “Everyone has heard of Aerick Heartstone, of course. They say he was one of the best warriors to come out of the Stroml’Dier in generations, not only because he was built like a warrior, but also because he had a way of reading his opponents and knowing exactly what they planned on doing. I heard my father once say that the tribe leaders were idiots for doing what they did, but I have no idea what it was that they did.”