Yin and Yang: A Fool's Beginning (26 page)

The Princess nods her
head firmly
. “Of course. Will that be my
lesson for today?”

“No. We will go out
into the square to train,” Castor says.

Garl clears his throat, as does Matok.

“Castor, we must act
with some discretion. I do not believe it wise to have the Princess
train before my men,” Garl says carefully, “we should endeavor to
keep her training secret.”

“No, we should not.
We should make it as public as we can. The people need to know what
is before them. They must know what their Princess is to go through
so that they can help her in any way they can.”

Garl clears his
throat
. “I disagree. We must keep this
secret. There is another training square behind my office. There
are no windows that look into it, apart from my own. We will be
safe there. With discretion, we will be able to keep this
secret.”

“You will not. It
will come out. Sooner rather than later. You do not need to hide
this, nor be ashamed of it. Tell the people what they deserve to
know,” Castor says.

Garl clears his throat again. I can see his ire
rising, but he does not dare glance towards Castor.

. . .
.

Garl is scared of no one.

So is that real deference holding him back, or
something else?

As I look, I swear I see Garl's eyes narrow in
calculation.

“Castor,” the
Princess turns on her chair, “I understand what you're saying. But
for now, let us train in secret. The people will know when they are
ready to be told. I don't want to delay my training any longer to
discuss when that will be. We will let them know when the time is
right.”

“Or wrong, Princess.
For it is my experience that keeping secrets as important as this
does not lead to protecting people—it leads to disadvantaging them.
Whether we like it or not, soon the age will begin to end. Your
record keepers tell us we have anywhere from weeks to a single
year. But as that age ends, chaos will break free. The hands of the
Night will start to reach up from the cracks in the ground.
Monsters will begin to roam the land. Now, you may choose to
believe you are doing people a favor by telling them only when
you're ready, but recognize that benefits you, not
them.”

I watch Garl's expression turn from calculated but
controlled, to pink with rage. It's a sentiment shared by the other
men in the room. To them, challenging let alone insulting the
Princess is tantamount to treason.

Yet not one of them rises to pull him into line. They
watch to see what the Princess will decide.

She looks over at Castor, and her usual gentle but
regal countenance cracks a little. Looking uncomfortably between
Castor and the generals, then up to me, she is clearly lost.

People don’t usually challenge the Royal Family, and
she clearly has no experience with what she should do should anyone
try.

“I . . .”
she trails off.

“You need to realize
you're no longer a Princess. Your attachment to the Royal Family is
now irrelevant. From now on, you are only the Savior. All other
duties must be ignored, for all other duties will detract from you
destiny,” as Castor speaks, his voice becomes . . .
intensely powerful.

I know the man doesn't technically practice magic,
but there's still something out of the ordinary about him.
Otherworldly almost.

In fact, for some time I'm too impressed by his
powerful words that I fail to realize what he's said.

. . .
.

I step forward. It's more of a knee jerk, actually,
one that sees me lurch a little into the room as surprise loosens
my cheeks.

I go to say
something—to defend the Princess. Castor gets there first. Looking
right at me, he says
, “I'm saying what
you know, but won't dare utter.” He doesn't take his eyes off me.
“You can't sacrifice yourself to save the age whilst drinking tea
and sitting on a royal cushion. Now, until you recognize that,
there's nothing I can teach you,” as he speaks, he never looks
away—he stares only at me.

Right at me. His
eyes
boring through mine, his
concentration like a jet of flame.

I hear the Princess breathe sharply, and Garl gets to
his feet, his indignation making his cheeks so hot, they could melt
snow.

Without another word, Castor walks away. With his
shoulders thrust back and his head held high, he marches for the
door and walks right out.

. . .
.

No one tries to stop him.

With another gasp,
the Princess gets unsteadily to her feet, placing a hand flat on
her chest
. “What did I do? Did I insult
him? Yang?” she turns and fixes her flickering gaze on
me.

I barely look at her. Instead I watch the door close
and listen to Castor's footsteps as he marches off.

. . .
.

No one stops him. Not the generals and not the
soldiers outside. Why would they? He's the great Castorious
Barr—the greatest warrior the Kingdom has. A veritable hero. And a
necessary ingredient in the Princess' training.

“This is outrageous,”
Garl says. “We can’t do as he says. We must keep this training
secret. For the Princess' safety,” he nods at Mara, “it would be
inconceivable to make this public. It could put the Royal Family in
danger.”

I hear Garl's words.

They should make perfect sense. I should be just as
incensed by Castor's suggestion. Yet a part of me can't help but
think he's right. A small part. For I am still fiercely loyal to
the Royal Family. However, I can't shake the feeling that there's a
grain of truth to the man's message.

The Savior can’t perform her job atop a comfortable
purple cushion.

But she's simply
resting, I tell myself immediatel
y. Her
training has not yet begun in full. When it does, she will be
diligent enough to succeed.

As for making this
public—telling the Kingdom Princess Mara is the legendary Savior—is
completely foolish. The public would not know how to deal with such
monumental news. To tell them the world as they know it will soon
end, and they will be ushered into a new age only if Mara defeats
the Night
. . . there would be
pandemonium. Pure, violent panic. And under those circumstances, it
would become even harder to train Mara.

No, Castor is wrong.
I know that
. . . . So why am I
not saying that aloud? Why am I not using my own force, passion,
and reason, to discount his?

Something is holding me back. Something strange.

For a man who reportedly has no magic, Castorious
Barr is proving to have abilities I can’t explain.

“This is outrageous,”
Garl continues.

The Princess
immediately puts up her hand
. “We need
him, Garl. He knows so much. I have barely trained with him, and
yet I can sense his power. His knowledge of the arts of magic is
phenomenal. I can think of no other warrior in the entire Kingdom
more suited to teach me. We must keep his confidence. And
. . . perhaps he is right,” Mara concedes as she gazes
down at her hands, her eyes darting over her golden bracelets. She
begins to take them off slowly. “He already warned me this would
take sacrifices. I can’t be a princess and live in luxury, yet
expect to become a warrior. If I am to become the Savior, then I
must learn to sacrifice.”

She continues to take her bracelets off, placing them
carefully on top of the cushion beside her.

“No, Princess,”
Matock says in a rumbling tone.

“Please, Matok, do
not make this harder for me. This is a confusing situation, and we
all must endeavor to determine how this is to work.” Once she
removes the final bangle, she closes her eyes for a brief moment,
before opening them and turning towards me. “Yang, please find
Castor and tell him I am ready to cooperate. I . . . will
discuss with my mother whether we should make this . . .”
she uncomfortably looks at her hands, “public. But for now assure
him I am ready to relinquish the trappings of my station. Anything
for his return and cooperation.”

I want to tell her she shouldn't have to do that. I
want to point out that regardless of what she is to become, she
will always be the Princess.

Yet I don't. The words are there, but I can’t say
them.

It's as if the effect of Castor's powerful display
still lingers in the room. As if, somehow, he's still present.

Even Garl—usually an indomitable force—looks more
reserved, wary even.

. . .
.

I know Castor has no
magic—or at least no
recognized kind.
Could it be possible he possesses some other strange ability
though? Or am I making it up to explain my own weaknesses and
inability to match him?

“Captain Yang?” the
Princess prompts. While she is not affected in the same way I am,
she is still acting strangely. I can see how reserved her
expression is, and all it takes is a quick glance at her hands to
see they are curled and white with nerves.

“Yes, of course, your
highness,” I manage, breaking myself out of my reverie with a quick
nod.

I turn, so sharply my boots squeak across the
floor.

I rush for the door. When I open it and exit the
room, I can't help but taking a stuttering breath.

It's almost as if I've come up for air after being
half-drowned.

. . .
.

I push myself forward, my movements a little jerky.
Yet the more I move away from that room, the less of an effect
Castor's display has on me.

I feel my usual control returning.

I walk faster.

As soon as I run into a soldier, I snap at him if
he's seen Castorious Barr.

The surprised man nods his head and points down the
hall.

In the direction of the library.

. . .
.

Could he know Yin is in there? Was this all a ploy to
go see her? He hasn't seen his apprentice for several days now, and
as far as I'm aware, nor has he asked after her.

I speed up, running now, my arms pumping beside me
and my armor rattling over my chest.

There's still a strong smell of rain in the air, and
the square is filled with puddles.

I let its presence calm and bolster me.

Be like the water, I tell myself, move around all
that stands in your path. Do not destroy it in one obvious
blow—undermine it slowly but surely.

I take comfort from my thoughts, but as soon as I
dare think of applying that philosophy to Castorious Barr, I
actually cringe.

Though I have fought many incredible enemies in my
time, I can't help but feel he is completely different. Flowing
around him may not work.

Finding out what he's really up to, however, just
might.

Running as fast as I can, and ignoring the strange
glances I get, I reach the library. Without pause, I knock my
shoulder into the doors and push through them, grunting as I
do.

As one, every man in the library looks up, surprise
then alarm playing over their faces.

“What's the matter?”
one snaps, standing from his chair.

Though I want to
shout out, I manage to control the volume of my voice as I
ask
, “did Castorious Barr come in
here?”

The soldier looks
confused, then shakes his head
. “Not that
I remember.”

I push past the man,
my head sweeping left to right as I try to confirm that for
myself
. “Where's Yin?” I ask
instead.

One of her guards, who was previously leaning against
the wall relaxing, stands up and points towards the back of the
library.

“What did she do?” he
asks with undisguised delight. “The General finally going to show
her who's boss?”

I ignore the man. I can’t stop my stomach from
tightening at his crude words.

Still, I push into the library, marching, then
jogging, then almost running until I make it all the way towards
the back. Darting in and out of the bookshelves, I come across
her.

I stop.

She has her eyes closed, her hands held out before
her as she clearly practices some move.

Her expression
is
. . . peaceful. In fact,
it's by far the most peaceful I've seen her. Even when she rested
against Castor's shoulder after I cast the sleeping spell on her,
she didn’t look so . . . restful.

At first I hesitate, not wanting to interrupt. Then I
remind myself why I'm here.

I clear my throat.

Her eyes snap open.
They grow wide with obvious alarm. Taking a step back, she places a
hand on her chest defensively
. “Why are
you watching me?” she snaps.

Though I'm on an
important mission from the Princess, that doesn't stop me from
feeling
. . . awkward. “I
. . .” I clear my throat quickly, “have you seen
. . .” I trail off. This time on purpose.

If Castor isn't in the library, isn't it safe to
assume he didn't come here? Is there any reason, then, to alert Yin
of his presence?

She shifts her head
forward, her lips compressing in anger
.
“What? What do you want to know? Are you after some book? Or are
you just here to check up on me? In which case you don't need a
stupid story. And,” she spreads her arms wide as she turns slowly
on the spot, “you can see I'm fine. I'm not doing anything Garl
wouldn't approve of. Now you know that, you can leave,” she turns
back to me and promptly crosses her arms.