Yin and Yang: A Fool's Beginning (12 page)

I sit there and press my lips closed, swallowing
whatever words threaten to escape.

The man the General is describing is not the man I
sat with on that long and bumpy cart ride.

But it's hardly my place to share those misgivings
with the General. Still, I can’t push away my curiosity
completely.

That's always been the way with me. Despite the fact
I've learnt how to close my emotions off, and push my soul far out
of reach, there is one force I can’t control. One force that
reminds me on the coldest nights that I'm still human.

My curiosity. My need to know more.

So, unable to control
it, I stand
. “What of his niece?” I ask
directly.

Garl looks
momentarily confused
. “His
niece?”

“Yin, the woman that
was brought in with him. His apprentice, the sorcerer,” I add with
a certain kick to my voice.

“She's nothing,” Garl
says without a pause. “We will see if she can be trained, and if
she can't, she will be dealt with.”

My eyebrows descend
low over my eyes
. “And Castor Barr is
happy with this?”

“Castor knows his
duty. Now he understands the import of this situation, he is
committed to training the Princess, just as any good soldier would
be. He is willing to sacrifice everything to save her so that she
can sacrifice everything to save us all.”

The General's speech is compelling, and if I didn't
have direct experience of Castor and Yin, I would believe it. But
as it is, I can't.

I've seen the way Castor looks at me, and I've seen
the way he protects Yin. I could not imagine a man like that
walking away from someone he considered his own child.

“I see,” I say
carefully. “But who will train her? I know from experience that she
is . . .” I press my lips together briefly,
“boisterous.”

“One of the
trainers,” Garl says dismissively. “Now, I suggest you neaten
yourself up and go to the palace. The record keepers are waiting
for you. And once you are done with them, you will go and attend to
the Princess.”

I salute. As I do, I feel a twinge of nerves track
down my back.

Could this be real? By this afternoon, could I
actually be a guardian of the Savior?

It seems too fantastic to believe, but then again, it
doesn’t appear as if the General is lying.

I will simply have to find out.

As I salute and leave, I try to focus on what I have
to do next. Yet I can’t completely dismiss my curiosity. It's not
directed at the Savior, but at Yin.

Though I can easily conclude that she's one of the
most tiresome people I've ever met, a part of me is sorry I won't
be the one to train her. For a part of me, as wild as it sounds,
almost enjoyed facing off against her fire.

There was
something
. . . almost
invigorating about standing next to her and not being
burned.

But with a sigh, I realize it's time to push those
thoughts away and look towards the future. For the future has just
changed completely.

Yin

I wake early that morning, but they don't open my
door until midday.

For hours I sit there with no food, no water, and
nothing but those drab stone walls to keep me company.

At first I feel desperate, then I feel defeated, and
then, well, I feel angry.

I stay angry.

But the more that anger grows, the more I notice
something odd. Whereas at first the enchantments protecting this
room hold my magic back, the more I fight against them, the more it
works. Though the power still won't coil from my bangle, leap
across my skin, and sink into the stone, soon I can make them hiss
and crackle just under my flesh. I can feel them, see them, and
hear them. The more I try to push them out, the easier it
becomes.

As I sit there facing the door, I keep calling on the
power within until I hear the bolt grate back.

I expect to see Yang. In my mind, nobody else will
come to torment me.

But it isn't him. In fact, it isn't a man at all.

With soft footfall, a woman enters my room.

She is much older than me, possibly in her early 50s,
but she has an elegant grace about her. She's slim, and her
silver-flecked black hair is kept tied back in a neat bun adorned
with a jade studded comb. She's in a delicate light blue robe with
gold and black trimming, and she holds herself just like a statue.
I've never seen a back straighter, and nor have I seen an
expression haughtier.

“Who are you?” I ask
bluntly, in no mood to be polite. But then again, when am I ever in
a mood to be polite?

The woman doesn't
react, or at least she doesn't say anything. She does arch her neck
and stare down her nose at me
. “Your hair
is full of mud and your clothes are tattered and torn,” she points
out.

I look at her
pointedly
. “Oh gosh, I didn't notice.
Thanks for pointing that out.”

“A soldier of the
Royal Army is expected to keep clean and neat at all times,” she
says with a sniff.

“Are they? I suppose
looking good is more important than actually being good,” I
quip.

“Do you enjoy
sleeping in the mud and tracking it across your bed?” she stares in
distaste at my silt-covered pillow.

“Well I've kind of
been trapped in this room for the past 20 hours without food and
water. I'm sorry if my pillow offends you.”

“You are an
impetuous, unruly child. I can see why they warned me about you. I
predict right now that you will be untrainable, and that the army
will have to dispose of you.”

I look up sharply at
the term dispose. Though fear starts to rise in me, I damp down on
it. I do it with anger. I burn right through that fear, snarling as
I do
. “I predict right now that if you
try to do anything, I will knock down your base.”

The woman raises an
eyebrow
. “Be warned, we will not tolerate
your childish threats. Either you will perform in our training
sessions, or the army will dispose of you. There is no one else to
turn to, no one you can rely on, and the only way we will respond
favorably to you, is if you show yourself to be a loyal, trainable
soldier.”

“Where is Castor?” I
ask blankly.

“You will not see
him. He is engaged in a task for the Royal Family, and you, my
child, will never go anywhere near them.”

I stand. Slowly.

I know when I'm being threatened.

“There are countless
enchantments protecting this room. You can’t call upon your magic
here,” the woman suddenly warns, for the first time looking more
like a person and less like a statue.

I go to open my left hand and show the woman just how
much magic I supposedly can't call upon, then I stop.

Now Castor is not by my side, it is up to me to
protect myself. It is up to me to keep my secret safe.

I let my hand drop unwillingly to my side. Then I
stare at the woman and I wait.

She rolls her eyes
and pinches her nose
. “Training will
begin immediately, though you will be given time to clean and dress
in appropriate clothes,” she adds as she stares at my
sandals.

I don't say anything.

I control myself.

But barely.

Whilst my magic is burning through me, begging to be
let out so I can teach this arrogant woman a lesson, my mind
controls it.

I'm doing this for Castor, I tell myself. I will find
him and I will find out what's going on here. Then I will convince
him to flee, and we will begin our lives anew. I don't have time
for this stupid misadventure in the Royal City; I must spend every
day training if I have any hope of defeating the Night.

Yet, if I want to get out of here, I have to be
careful. I can't burn through the walls; there are enough soldiers
around here to stop me. This time, they might just kill me too.

I have to be careful.

It's only with that realization that I follow the
woman and allow myself to be cleaned and dressed.

I tell myself I will play their game until I see an
opportunity. And, just as Castor taught, I will take that
opportunity and I will burn down any obstacle that gets in my
way.

Captain Yang

I shake a little as I run down the halls back to my
room. As I close the door behind me, I lean against it for a few
minutes. Though I know I have to neaten myself up and head straight
over to the Royal Palace, I can't pull myself away from the
wall.

Up until now I have had a stable, reliable life.
Whenever it's become rocky, I've smoothly flowed around obstacles
like water.

But now
it feels as if I've been dammed up. I have never
faced something like this before, and half wonder how many people
through the ages have.

Though I don't know as much about the legend of the
Savior as I should, I still appreciate that a Savior is only born
every thousand years. So how many other people in the history of
the ages have been placed in the position I now find myself in? It
could be no more than a handful.

“If it’s real,” I
suddenly say aloud.

Listening to my voice and my words make me let out a
short laugh.

Then I stop, abruptly.

I don't laugh.

I don't doubt. I'm never overcome; I am a Royal Army
sorcerer.

As I think that, I take a breath, walk away from the
door, and head over to my shaving basin. Soon enough I clean myself
up, and then, selecting my dress uniform, I don it and leave my
room.

Walking through the halls of the barracks, I feel as
if I'm in a daze. There's too much information to process, and
presumably after the record keepers are finished with me, I'll be
even more overcome.

Shaking my head, unable to lift the daze, I find
myself heading across the square. It's an expansive space, and
needs to be, considering the amount of dangerous training that
occurs there.

Yet even though it is so large, I glance up and
recognize two figures training in the distance.

One of them is Mae, one of our only female
sorcerers.

The other, well, of course it's Yin.

Though it would be quicker to walk through the
square, I find myself walking around it, coming as close to Yin as
I can without stepping into the square itself.

In fact, all too soon I find myself leaning against a
pillar as I watch them train.

I'm not the only one. Several guards and soldiers
have paused what they're doing as they stare her way.

Yin is no longer dressed in the drab clothes she
arrived in. She's in the same light blue dress, delicate pants, and
white shoes as Mae. While the army does accept women sorcerers into
its ranks, they do not dress as the men do.

Yin's unruly black hair has been combed back, and is
in a tight bun resembling Mae's.

Initially, she looks completely different, then I
catch a glimpse of her expression, and realize it's the same
woman.

“This is ridiculous,”
Yin says as she stamps her foot on the ground. The move is light,
yet her power travels far. She shakes the cobbles, crackles and
flames curling underneath her shoes.

Mae rolls her eyes in
disgust
. “You have power but you lack
elegance. Someone has taught you sorcery, but they have also taught
you to fight like a man. You must learn to fight like a
woman.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, I
didn't realize they taught me to fight like a man, I thought they
taught me how to win,” Yin snaps back.

Despite myself, my lips curl into a smile. As soon as
I realize what they're doing, however, I straighten them out.

“You must pay
attention, and keep quiet. Speak only when you are spoken to. A
lady does not blab; she holds her words for when they are
required.”

“And what exactly
does this have to do with sorcery? You haven't even showed me what
I'm meant to do. You are a sorcerer yourself, right?”

Mae is usually a controlled woman. I've seen her
stare down Carcas warriors without losing the haughty edge to her
expression. But now her nostrils flare.

Without warning, she raises her hand and spreads it
forward. Magical flame shoots from her fingers. An arc of it, a
brilliant, blinding jet of pure force.

The move is quick, and I can see Yin isn't expecting
it. Yet, though it strikes her right in the chest, it doesn't knock
her over.

She just leans into it, and the flames disburse
across her torso as if she's wearing armor.

Even from this distance, I can see her expression.
Her eyes are narrowed, her lips pulled hard against her teeth. She
looks like the epitome of strength—the exact opposite of the
refined, womanly presence Mae wants to instill.

As the flames dissipate, Yin leans back, shifts her
feet into a defensive pose, and raises her arms.

She does not miss a beat.

“Is it my turn yet?”
she asks as she flicks a few loose strands of hair over her
shoulder.

There's a single
moment where Mae looks surprised—just a flash of amazement flickers
in her usually controlled gaze. Then she composes herself and lifts
her chin
. “Anyone can learn to block a
single blow. Don't for a second think I'm surprised.”

“What? You're not
surprised? He is,” Yin points out as she points right at
me.

Up until now, she hasn't looked my way once, and I
thought she wasn't aware of my presence.