Yin and Yang: A Fool's Beginning (9 page)

. . .
.

Then presumably deal with Yin, and I have absolutely
no idea how to do that. With her abilities, she will be a boon to
the Royal Army, if she is trainable.

Everything I have seen so far suggests she isn't. She
even seems to lack basic manners, especially those expected of a
woman.

These thoughts occupy my mind until we make it
through the walls of the Royal City.

It's always an arresting sight. In fact, if you ask
me, it's the most beautiful view in all the world. I don't even
need to have travelled all the world to conclude that. Every time I
return home, my heart sings with that certainty. It's one of the
few times I can feel it. It's one of the few times I let myself
feel any emotion at all.

So as our cart continues past the great golden gates,
I shift closer to the window, unable to control my smile. As I
stare out of the thick glass, positioning a hand on one of the bars
to stabilize myself, I catch sight of Yin.

To my surprise, she's lost that fiery edge in her
gaze, and she too has turned towards the window, her eyes wide with
surprise.

No doubt she's never seen the Royal City. In fact,
she's probably never left that tiny mountain village.

For a second I open my mouth intending to point out
the great museum as we pass it, but then I stop.

I'm no tour guide.

In fact, I push myself away from the window, return
to my seat, and straighten my back until it is as stiff and tall as
I can make it.

Realizing I'll soon have to present myself and my new
recruits to the generals back at the barracks, I begin to neaten my
appearance. I methodically dust off my armor, even taking off my
helmet and neatening my short hair.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Yin watches me.

You would think she had never seen a man in armor,
considering how closely she examines my routine.

“It's important to
look respectable when greeting one's commanders,” I say by way of
explanation.

She turns from me, crosses her arms, and stares out
the window haughtily.

For some reason that makes me smile.

Infuriatingly, I don't know why.

As a Royal Army sorcerer, I understand how to control
my emotions better than most. So it's alarming and more than a
little irritating when I act for reasons even I can't
understand.

Shining my helmet with my sleeve, I cram it back on
my head, then I lean back against the wall and cross my arms.

It takes me a full five seconds to realize what I'm
doing. When I do, I immediately loosen my arms, drop them into my
lap, and clear my throat.

I'm not some unruly brat who challenges authority
with apathy. I don't slouch and cross my arms—like Yin. I'm an
officer in the Royal Army, and it's time I remind myself of
that.

Finally we reach the barracks. As our cart slows down
and the soldiers atop announce themselves to the guards, a surge of
nerves travels through my stomach. Hot and fast, they feel like
bubbling water. I even move to touch a hand to my stomach, but I
stop myself.

I've been to these barracks countless times; for the
past few years, I've lived here. So why do I now feel as if they've
changed? As if I've turned some corner, and my life will no longer
be as it once was?

As if somewhere, somehow, a fire is about to ignite
within me.

A fire I’ve held back for years.

Though my conscious mind can't seem to answer that,
my body can, and without knowing it, I turn to face Yin once
more.

She’
s a powerful summoner, the
apprentice of one of the most legendary warriors of our times, and
she’s currently sitting in my cart glaring at me.

Perhaps my life has just taken a turn, and nothing
will be the same anymore.

Or maybe I'm just unsettled. Yes, that's it, I
conclude, as the cart draws to a halt and I hear the soldiers
scramble off the top.

All I need to do is relax, meditate, and regain
control over my emotions.

Then everything will go back to normal.

. . .
.

Even as I tell myself that, a part of me knows it's
fancy.

Nothing will be the same again.

Yin

When the cart stops, my nerves start. In fact, who am
I kidding? My nerves have been building ever since we entered this
monstrous, golden city.

In all my years, I've never seen anything like it.
For in all my years, I've barely travelled from my mountain
village. My life to date has been about training, not travelling. I
don't have time to be awed by great golden arches and walls as tall
as mountains and just as imposing.

I watch Yang stand, and though he's too tall, and has
to stoop, that doesn't stop him from compulsively neatening his
armor once more. Then, with a slight breath, he unlocks the door
and steps out.

I catch a glimpse of an empty square beyond. It's
enormous, absolutely enormous.

“Castor,” I begin. I
don't know what I want to say, but I can't stop myself from
whispering his name.

“Just trust me,” he
says quietly, his voice barely carrying beyond his lips.

I turn to look at him.

With a complicated expression, he doesn't face me,
and instead stares at the opposite wall.

“What's going on? Why
aren't we escaping?” I hiss back, trying to ensure my voice does
not carry outside the cart and to Yang's waiting ears.

“Just trust me,”
Castor says once more.

“Castor,” I begin,
one million questions bursting through my mind. Trust him? How can
I trust him when I don't know what's going on? The one lesson he
drummed into my mind more than any other is that I must never allow
myself to be captured. But now, well, I've clearly been captured,
and he is doing nothing about it.

I don't understand, and that fact unsettles me more
than Castor's complicated expression.

Before I can question him further, I see two soldiers
pop their heads through the open door.

They are dressed in armor that is somehow even
fancier than Yang's. Brilliant blue and gold, they look as if
they've trapped the very sea and sky in their breastplates and
helmets.

“Please exit this
cart,” one says in a professional but curt tone.

Without a word, Castor stands and follows their
heed.

I don't move though. I sit there, staring in
open-mouthed shock as my guardian follows the orders of these
soldiers.

What is he doing?

When he steps down
from the cart, he turns and nods at me
.
“Come, Yin,” he says.

I begin to shake my
head, but he shakes his head harder
.
“Please,” he adds.

Feeling more confused than I've ever felt, I stand
and make my way out of the cart. As soon as I jump down, I gasp. I
can see the enormous square in full. It's even bigger than I
imagined, and as I stand there and spin on the spot, taking in the
glorious buildings beyond, I realize just how far out of my depth I
am.

The mountains I understand. The trees, the crags, the
snow, the birds. They sing to me. These buildings, however, are
nothing but imposing. They represent a world I know nothing
about.

As I stare at the buildings, I notice that Yang
stands several meters away talking to an old man with a grey beard
and jet-black armor.

Then I notice the man saluting. He places a hand
close to his stomach, then secures his other hand on top, and bends
forward in a bow. At first I have no idea who he's directing it
towards, then I realize it's Castor.

In fact, all of the assembled soldiers repeat the
move, and bow one by one.

I like to think I know everything there is to know
about my guardian. After all, I've lived with him my whole life,
and it's by his side that I will complete my task as the Savior.
Still, whilst I know that once upon a time he had served in the
army, I'm starting to realize he might have left some very
important details out. From the things Yang mentioned and the way
these soldiers are treating him, it appears Castor had a far more
illustrious career than he's told me about.

Still, now isn't exactly the time to bring that
up.

Now is the time to run.

Once that old man in black armor stops saluting
Castor, Yang mutters something to him, and he looks directly at
me.

That look
. . . is terrifying. The old man's
eyebrows descend low, and his thin lips spread over his teeth in a
crooked smile.

I actually take a step back, and inadvertently knock
the cart door, sending it swinging back on its hinges.

“Watch yourself,” one
of the soldiers snaps.

Castor has asked me to trust him, but how exactly am
I to do that when I'm surrounded by snide soldiers that stare at me
like I'm little more than meat with unruly hair?

Still, it's only my loyalty to him that keeps me
standing there. That, and the realization that even if I try to
take on these soldiers, there's no way I can win. There's too many
of them, and the walls of this army base are far too high. Plus,
what would happen if I escaped? Where would I go? I know nothing
about this city. If Castor is unwilling to flee with me, then for
the first time in my life, I will be on my own.

That prospect terrifies me just as much as the old
man's stare.

As Yang and the old
man talk, Castor takes a step back, getting as close to me as he
can
. “I need you to trust me,” he
repeats.

I don't say anything.

“We will be
separated, you will be fine. Trust me,” he says once
more.

Separated?

I snap my head
around, my hair flattening against my cheeks and
forehead
. “I'm not going to let them,” I
begin.

He raises a hand
quickly. Staring into my eyes, he shakes his head
. “Trust me,” he mouths.

Then he walks away. Without looking back, he marches
up to the old man and bows.

They have a conversation, but it's too quiet for me
to overhear, then Castor walks away with him.

I'm left there standing with those soldiers, and I
have no idea what's going on.

My whole life I've been taught to be strong; my whole
life I've been taught that I'm the only person who can save this
age.

But I've never been lonely, because Castor has always
been there.

Now, however, he walks away from me. There’s
something final about it. As I stare at him, I feel as though he's
leaving me for good.

Perhaps he's finally growing tired of my lack of
discipline, and he's realized I'm untrainable. Maybe I've insulted
him, or maybe he realizes there's no chance I can win, and it's
better to give up now.

But all I really know is that my sworn guardian has
turned his back on me, and it's left me feeling more alone than I
ever have in my life.

Captain Yang

It's been a long trip, and all I want to do is bathe,
eat a proper meal, and return to my quarters.

But I can't. Instead I find myself leaning against a
wall, sighing deeply, and nursing a growing headache.

The growing headache has two causes: a long day and
one Yin.

Once Castor left with General Garl, that left me
alone with Yin and my orders. After I told the General about her
powers, he ordered she immediately be housed in one of the barrack
quarters until training could begin.

It is up to me to get her settled, apparently.

Garl might as well have given me the task of moving
every mountain in the Kingdom and draining every sea.

With the help of the barrack guards, we manage at
least to get her in the right building. But that's where my luck
runs out.

“Ma'am, you need to
go into your room and settle down,” one of the guards says in a
gruff tone as he points to the open door before him.

Yin is standing in the doorway, but she clearly has
no intention of going inside. Though the soldier tries to shoo her
in, she actually growls at him.

I've been to the various villages of the Kingdom; I
have travelled far and I have met many. But in all my time I have
not met a woman as unwomanly and gruff. Yin is less of a lady and
more like a bear. Her unwashed muddy hair only adds to that
appearance, as does her torn, dirty clothes.

But her eyes—two piercing pools of velvety brown—are
very human. They have such an intense quality behind them, that
staring at her is like watching a star be born from the very
heavens.

“Ma'am,” the guard
tries again, “don't make me push you in there.”

“Ha,” Yin exclaims in
a blast of derision that sees her chest puff out and her shoulders
shake back, “go ahead and try.”

The soldier takes a menacing step forward.

It's time for me to intervene. Not before he hurts
her, but before she hurts him.

She, after all, is powerful. Very powerful. If she
truly has been trained by Castor, then she's a potentially
invaluable asset for the Royal Army. One that it is up to me to get
settled before she can be trained.

Though a man twice her size in imposing gold armor is
looming over her, Yin barely bats an eyelash. Instead she arches
her neck back, the muscles straining.

She acts like a soldier. Like a man.

She's neither.

“Hold on,” I warn as
I take a step towards the soldier before he can make a mistake,
“let me deal with this,” I offer.

I don't want to; I'd rather go straight to my bed.
With every passing second, my headache becomes more powerful. I can
feel my blood pounding through my neck and temples like a
blacksmith hammering an anvil.