Corvin had thought, for some peculiar reason, that life would become somehow easier once he had a sword. But it wasn't. He might have more prestige now - the gift of twin blades signifying that he was no longer a child, but a man - but the training was just as hard, sweat and mud were still the rule of the day. Especially sweat, when he was engaged in a practice duel with his sister. As he was now. Salty excretions rolled down his back after three hours of exercise and false battle.
A loud crack sounded in the air as wooden practice swords clashed, and Corvin stared down his crossguard at his sister as he drew back. He couldn't win, of course; Caitlin was much better at this than he was. But he could sure as hell try. A feint to one side, and he brought his second blade in low. Caitlin parried it easily, and struck responded with a series of strikes that left Corvin with a missing sword and a sore wrist. It went downhill from there.
"Cease," their father called out, when it became clear who had won. "Enough." The two of them glared at him, but said nothing.
"That's it for the day," the old ninja said. "Relax, have a drink in the hall." Edge grinned. "Show off your new weapons."
Corvin might have resented the intervention, but he wasn't about to reject it. Panting slightly, he set aside his practice sword and put on his belt, sheathes attached. It didn't feel as good as it had three days ago, when he had received them. But there was enough vanity in him to feel proud of them. It was only human, after all. He waited while Caitlin followed suit.
"Oh, and if you see your mother, ask her to join me in our room." Edge added as they were leaving.
"Okay." Corvin said. The two of them went out into the afternoon sun. The heat made Corvin sweat, but even that felt good, the result of a day’s work done and done well. Even if he had lost.
"I wonder how long it'll be before he realizes we know exactly what he's talking about when he says that?" Caitlin said.
"Who knows? Maybe he already does."
"Maybe. Do you know where Mother is?"
"Probably somewhere on the walls, watching the sunset. I have no clue what she finds so fascinating about a big ball of fire dropping below the horizon."
"Does it matter? Come on, let's hurry up or we'll never hear the end of it."
It wasn't that hard to find her, since she was exactly where they had expected. A few others were with her, people who had arrived just before the twins' birthday, three days ago. The only difference between them and most other inhabitants of Castle Baron, of course, was that none of these were human.
Rydia had been speaking to the old dragon when the two of them walked up, but she fell silent as they approached. "Hello, children," she said as they approached. "What is it?"
"Err...mother, I'm not a child anymore," Corvin reminded her. "I turned seventeen, remember?"
The old dragon snorted, the noise like a small hurricane. "I will never understand this significance you humans place on the day of your birth. In what way are you wiser than you were four days ago?"
Corvin tried to think of an answer, but couldn't. It was difficult to think under that gaze, and the missing eye certainly didn't help. All he could manage was a weak, "I don't know," and an appealing glance at his mother. She stepped in.
"What is it, Corvin?"
"Not much. Dad wanted you to join him."
"Better not keep him waiting, then. He's in our room?"
"Yeah." Corvin watched as she strolled off, not sure exactly what to do, now. So he did nothing until something butted his hip.
"Hi, Jur," he said. He kept carefully clear as the armored monster, something akin in appearance to an oversized, shell-studded turtle moved up beside him. He didn't want another burn.
"I wouldn't worry about him." Jurgander said, somewhat consoling in his tone and motioning with his head towards the dragon, "Bahamut, I mean. He treats everyone like that, except Rydia and maybe Cecil."
Corvin laughed lightly. "Oh, I'm not worried about that. I'm just wondering what to do, that's all. Maybe I'll look in on Cid."
"Mind if I join you?"
Corvin grinned. "Just don't touch anything, or it might blow up." They both chuckled at that one, remembering the one time that Jur had brushed his shell, heated by the boiling blood underneath, up against a pile of cannon powder that Cid had accidentally left out. Rydia had had a fit, and it was days before she would even talk civilly to the old engineer. Not that the old man seemed to mind; he'd been more concerned with staying out of Rydia's way than with conversation. Corvin counted the engineer fortunate that Rosa had found the two of them first. If his mother had seen the burns and shrapnel cuts before they were healed, she probably would have torn the old man limb from limb.
Not that the episode had deterred the young Eblani ninja. Cid himself had said that he had a natural affinity for machines; Corvin had designed and built several unorthodox devices himself, though most of them didn't work properly more than one out of three times. He spent most of each evening, on those occasions when the royal family visited Baron, down in Cid's workshop.
He entered in high spirits, hoping to make some real progress on something he'd been drawing up for the last week or so. Cid noticed the two of them immediately, of course.
"Evening, Corvin. Evening, Jurgander," he said absently, bent over a piece of his own work. Unlike most others his family knew, the engineer always called him by his first name. And didn’t mind it when Corvin addressed him by his first name, either. "How was training?"
"Rough," Corvin informed him. "I'm not all that good of a swordsman, and we all know it."
"Give it time."
Corvin sighed. "I've had ten years of time, Cid. Did you get those parts I wanted?"
The old man gave him an ironic look. "Do I look like I'm getting forgetful and senile?"
"Not forgetful, no," Corvin joked. "Can you help me try and put all this together? Maybe for once something'll work right the first time I try it out."
"Doubt it," Cid grinned. "You seem to have a really unique talent, Corvin. You always manage to blow something up. And when you don't, your friend does."
"I do not." Jur said, a touch of humor in his voice.
"Of course not," Cid agreed with him, a blatantly false innocence in his eyes. "That thing with the powder was caused by a random speck of rock dust in the air, superheated by its recent exit of Bahamut's nose."
"A plausible explanation," Jur noted.
Cid just smiled. "Come on, Corvin," he said jovially, "Let's get this thing put together. You can surprise your father with something that works."
It was nearly midnight when Edge came in to see them off to bed, for it was rare that they remembered to unless reminded.
"Did you get something to work this time?" he said humorously as he walked in the door."
"Maybe," was the answer. "Come and see."
The contraption Corvin was holding resembled a crossbow minus the arms. Instead, a hollow cylinder was attached to the stock in such a fashion as to be able to rotate. The cylinder was about three inches thick along the edge, and was drilled through with six one inch holes. Projecting slightly from each hole was the tip of a crossbow bolt.
"What’s it supposed to do?" Edge asked.
Corvin smirked at him. "Watch." He took aim at a target at the far end of the room and pulled the trigger. There was a bang, a whistling sound...and six bolts buried themselves in the target within two seconds of each other.
Edge whistled, "Rosa would love that one," he commented.
"Well...she’d love it if it didn’t take half an hour to reload. We use cannon powder to spin the cylinder, but we have to take the whole thing apart and replace it after each shot. Or should I say six shots."
"Still, it’s something to be proud of," Edge chuckled, "At least it didn’t blow up like that other one last week did."
"That one was supposed to blow up!" Corvin said indignantly.
"Yes, but I’m fairly sure that it was supposed to be somewhere other than your hand when it did," Edge laughed again. "Come on, both of you. It’s way too late to keep working. Bed for both of you, or I’ll tell Rosa that you’re overworking yourselves again. You too, Jur. And I know you’re not asleep, so stop faking it.
The three of them made a show of complaining, but not for very long. Cid made a few wisecracks, Edge commented on his age several times, and then he left with his son in tow. The old engineer stayed behind to clear things up.
It was dark that night. Clouds obscured the moon so it was almost impossible to see. Or it would have been, if the two of them hadn’t been Eblani. Years spent living under the ground had had its benefits; the Eblani could see like cats in the night. Even so, they both jumped when Porom nearly ran the two of them over as she marched around a corner.
"Oh dear, I’m sorry," she said. "I...I must not have been looking where I was going."
"Are you all right?" Edge asked. "You look like a cat with its tail on fire."
"I’m fine. Really."
"No, you’re not. You’re nervous."
She sighed. "Okay, so I’m nervous. Sorry, the Elder’s arriving tomorrow. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since I decided to stay here in Baron. I don’t think he’ll be very happy with me."
"It’s been nine years," Edge pointed out. "Surely he would have sent someone by now if he had a problem."
Some of the tension visibly drained out of the woman. "Yes, I suppose you’re right." She shook herself. "Anyway, I’m going to turn in for the night. I’ll see you in the morning." She stumbled a bit as she turned, then left.
"That wasn’t much like her at all," Corvin commented as the two of them walked on.
Edge smiled at him, "Oh, and now you’ve become the judge of your elders, eh?" he laughed as Corvin turned crimson. "She’s probably just apprehensive about her upcoming meeting. I’m going to get something to eat. Want to come?"
"Nah. I’m not hungry."
"Your loss. Good night."
"Good night."
Porom was indisputably worried.
The aura, she thought. Why now? Why am I seeing it again now?
Twice today, she’d seen it. Once around Gylen, this morning. Again around Corvin, just now. She hoped the stumble hadn’t given her away. At least the Elder’s arrival gave her a plausible excuse for nervousness.
She had had to tell somebody. So she had asked her brother to meet her on the battlements. Now, though, she wasn’t sure what to tell him. She waited and watched the town below her. Quiet now, but for how long? The visions hadn’t reappeared for nothing. It was a side effect she hadn’t anticipated, and that worried her further. She stood tense as a cat.
And jumped half her own height when her brother exploded out of the air beside her, beer mug in hand.
"Palom!" she said indignantly, out of habit more than anything else, "That was not funny!"
"Hi, sis." He replied, characteristically ignoring the remark. There was a slur in his speech. Half drunk, of course. "There a problem?"
"You could say that," she told him, as calmly as possible. He waited for her to elaborate.
She sighed. "About nine years ago, I tried to look into the future."
"You know we’re not supposed to do that," he said matter-of-factly. Typical. So used to breaking the rules that he didn’t have a second thought when she did.
"It was a fairly simple spell," she went on. "An aural projection. I was looking at the twins."
"Rosa wouldn’t be happy about that," Palom said with a smirk, taking a gulp from his mug. His carefree manner infuriated her.
Porom had a brief mental battle with herself, then decided that Palom didn’t deserve to have the anvil dropped lightly. Not with his attitude. "One of the auras was jet black," she said bluntly. Palom spat out the beer in shock.
"And you didn’t tell anybody?" he asked incredulously. "Shit! Porom, you do know what a black aura means, don’t you?"
For a moment she was tempted to yell back at him. Who was he to question her actions? It was he who was always doing the wrong thing at the wrong time! But she forced the urge down. This time, she was the one in the wrong, and she knew it. She stared at the ground.
"Well?" he asked acidly. She had another surge of pique at his tone, but ignored it.
"I...I don’t know," she said sorrowfully. It was humiliating to have to explain herself to Palom, but she knew it was no worse than she deserved.
Palom thought for a second. He paced. He stared at her for a moment. Then he dumped his beer over the edge of the wall in disgust. There was a splash and a gardener yelped below, but they both ignored it.
"All right," he said, calm again. "All right. No use worrying about it, I suppose. But why tell me about it now?"
"I saw auras again, this time without a spell. Once around Gylen, another around Corvin. Caitlin I haven’t seen today, but she probably has it too."
"Which one of them had black?"
"Caitlin."
"Edge won’t be happy about that." Palom noted.
"No, he won’t. I don’t know, maybe that’s why I haven’t told anyone yet. When I tried it I was just curious, but...I guess I just didn’t want to hurt anyone." She paused a moment. "I don’t suppose you’ve felt anything?" That was a peculiar talent of Palom’s; he could sense the mood of a room, or a town, or a building, pick up on the undercurrents of thought. Palom stood still for a moment.
"Not unless something’s been brewing for a long time," he said eventually. "There’s been a sort of tension around here for a year or two, but it built up slowly and I sort of blocked it out after a while. Damn. Stupid of me. Come on, let’s go see Cecil, he needs to know about this."
"Wait!" she called out as he turned away. "Let’s just wait until morning, all right? It’s nearly midnight, everyone’s already asleep. It’s waited nine years, it can wait another eight hours."
Palom considered this for a moment, then nodded. "All right, in the morning then. Early morning."
The night passed on without them.