22Chapter Two
Benia sat alone in the room she shared with three other girls. It was fairly large, with one set of bunked beds and two single beds on opposing walls. The fourth wall held the door, and there was a wide, low table for them to work on. Benia had a single bed in the corner, next to the girls' study table. Each bed was covered with a plain, brown woolen blanket and rough cream-colored sheets. Benia's bed was the only one not immaculately made. She sat atop the sheets, the blanket shoved to the side and spread across the bottom of the bed. Her pillow was shoved against the wall, and she leaned on it.
Outside the high, rectangular window, the sun was casting its final golden rays, lighting up her room with a warm, yellow tone. She sat cross-legged on her bed in the fading light, staring at a sword that lay in front of her. Her dark hair was pulled back, exposing her neck to the cooling air, and her arms were now bare, revealing a myriad of freckles that also climbed onto her chest and back. Her eyes were still bright in the dark – a pale grey-blue, like rain clouds in the summer sky. She wore a white-cotton, sleeveless shirt and a pair of dark, heavily scuffed leather pants. Her boots lay on the floor, caked in mud and her feet were bare.
The sword in front of her was covered in an inexpensive leather sheath, which had simple black markings branded into its pale surface. Benia ran her fingers down the sheath, admiring the pattern that she'd known all her life. The sword was the only thing she had to prove that she had come from real parents – in a real family. The old woman of her memories was never a mother to her, but the matron of a rundown orphanage in the woods. She'd spent the first four years of her life there with that woman, surrounded by children she didn't know. And then she had been taken from that place and brought to Bera Inar.
Benia sighed, shoving her memories to the back of her mind, and focused on the sword. It was her father's sword – at least, that's what she had been told. She was lucky to have it as a token of her past, proof that she was not of this place. She was glad to have her scattered memories as well. Most of the students had nothing, and many of them barely remembered the years before their education at Bera Inar. In fact, most of the younger students recalled nothing at all prior to their schooling.
As she contemplated the weapon in front of her, two of her roommates walked into the chamber together, giggling. Benia quickly composed herself and shoved the sword beneath her blankets. The other girls knew she had it, but she didn't want them to catch her reminiscing over it and making a fool of herself. The shorter of the two girls, a second advancement student by the name of Desan, sat down next to Benia. "What are you doing alone in the dark?" she asked, a smile on her pale face. Desan was a sweet girl, always trying to draw Benia from her self-imposed solitude. She was shorter than Benia, with strait dark hair, cropped close to her skull.
Benia shrugged. "Just thinking, I suppose," she replied nonchalantly.
"Do you want to come to the main courtyard and play some charm-games?" asked the other girl, whose name was Vica. Vica was very similar to Desan, but several years older and in the same advancement as Benia. She was slightly taller than Benia, and also had dark hair, but she wore it longer, cut off at her shoulders. Benia shook her head. "I have to study," she lied, pointing to a pile of books on the girls' shared table in the corner of the room. It wasn't a complete untruth, she did have homework to do, but she had no intention of doing it.
Vica just nodded awkwardly and motioned to Desan. "Well then, if you're sure, we should go."
Benia nodded. "I'll see you guys later," she said, forcing a smile. She liked the other girls, but she didn't feel like company at the moment. In fact, she often felt like being alone. In her sword-studies she was confident and cocky, but in most social and academic situations, Benia didn't know how to handle herself. She preferred to spend her time alone, reading or practicing her sword skills. Even Morrin and Vermaia, who were her closest friends, had trouble drawing her out of her self-imposed solitude.
As her roommates retreated from the room, Desan flicked her hand and spoke a quiet word to the lantern next to the door. It sprang to life, filling the room with a faint, yellow light. They disappeared, closing the door behind them and Benia was left alone once more. She hadn't realized how dark it had become, and she was glad for the warm, golden glow of the lamp. Outside, the sun was gone and a dry wind was picking up, whispering outside the window.
Benia had just pushed back the blanket, exposing her sword once more, when she heard a gentle knock at the door. She re-covered the sword, stood, and crossed the room. When she opened the door, she was surprised to find Kalen standing in the dimly lit hallway, his head covered with the hood of his cloak. "Kir Kalen!" she said, a little surprised.
He looked nervous, and he was fidgeting with his hands. "Good evening, Benia," he said with a pseudo-calm. "Can I have a word with you?"
Benia nodded and stepped back to allow him entrance to the room. He wore a thick black cloak that wrapped around most of his body. Benia felt that he was hiding himself in some way, the light seeming to fade as he stepped into the room. He closed the door and as he threw back the hood of his cloak, the dimming-effect disappeared, and he was suddenly clear, as if he'd stepped out from behind a shadow. "What did you want to talk about?" Benia asked, a little unnerved by his appearance.
Kalen forced a smile and motioned for her to sit down. The air was growing cold as the night grew black, and she shivered, grabbed a knit-jacket from the floor, and took a seat on her bed. "I have to tell you some things you may not believe," he told her, pulling a chair from the worktable in the corner, and sitting backwards in it to face Benia. "But I need for you to hear me out." Benia frowned and nodded reluctantly.
Kalen sighed. "I guess I should start by telling you that you're in danger." Benia raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms, but she remained silent. Kalen continued. "The Kirnar and the other Kir have decided to send you on one of the Ring's student-missions.
Benia smiled. "Wow, I never thought I'd be chosen," she said happily.
Kalen frowned and shook his head. Most students were under the impression that it was an honor to go on missions for the Ring. They didn't know that the Ring was just using them to avoid wasting fully trained agents on endeavors that would almost certainly end in death. "You don't understand," he said. "This isn't some glory-mission. They send these students to complete impossible tasks." He paused. "No one ever returns."
Benia looked at him skeptically. "But…"
Kalen silenced her with a shake of his head.
Her face fell. "All those students…" She looked as if she were about to cry. "I knew many of them. They're all… dead?" she asked, turning her face to his.
He nodded grimly and gave her a moment before continuing. "That's why I have to get you out of here."
She looked up sharply. "Get me out?"
He nodded again. "You'll be sent away tomorrow. We don't have much time."
Benia looked at him. She was confused and afraid. "Why are you helping me?" she asked. "Why not the other students? Why didn't you help them?" She stood up angrily, looking down at her seated teacher.
He sighed. "It was hard for me to ignore the other students' eminent suffering," he said, "but I had to. I had to stay here to protect you."
Benia frowned. "What? Why me?" Kalen wasn't making sense.
He slowly stood up and put his hands on her shoulders, looking down into her face. "I knew your parents," he said after a moment of silence. "I was there when you were born."
Benia's jaw dropped. Her eyes went wide, and she felt dizzy. She sat down rather ungracefully on the edge of her bed and took a deep breath. A painful silence filled the room, his statement echoing in her mind. "You…" she started to ask another question, but she was unable to put the words together.
"I was a friend of your father's," he told her, pulling his chair closer to her bed and sitting back down. He attempted to comfort her by putting his hand on her knee, but it felt forced and awkward and he withdrew it. "I knew him when we were young. I was there when he met your…mother."
He said the final word with a disdain that pulled Benia from her silent shock. "What about my mother?" she asked.
Kalen sighed. He hadn't planned to tell her all these things now, while they had so little time. "Your mother was… not a nice person," he said softly. "She tried to kill you and…" He faltered. Now wasn't the moment to explain that she had a twin brother. He changed directions. "And your father found out about it and took you away. Before he could escape, your mother cut his leg badly. He died in the woods, but not before he gave you away to be protected."
Benia let this sink in for a moment, staring at Kalen's concerned face. "Who did he give me to?" she asked after a stunned moment. "That old woman in the orphanage?"
Kalen nodded. "He gave you to a merchant, who took you to the orphanage."
Benia was crying now, and she had refocused her attention. "So my father is dead and my mother is a maniac?" It was too much.
He nodded again, seeing the pain in her eyes, but unable to hide the truth. "I know it's hard for you to trust me," he said. "But you have come with me tonight – we must leave this place."
Benia sat still with her eyes closed and tears running freely down her pale, freckled cheeks. "And then you found me in the orphanage?" she asked. She didn't know why she trusted his story, but she did, and it made her angry and curious.
Kalen sighed. "No," he said. "I didn't find you until you were already here in Kazra Inar, when you were nine years old. I applied for a teaching position so that I could be close to you. It was probably the best place for you, anyway – here you were safe from your mother." Benia said nothing. "You just have trust me," he said, giving up on explaining everything to her right now. "We have to leave and I don't have time to tell you everything you need to know. We just don't have…" He trailed off, seeing that he wasn't getting through to her. "I will explain things to you, but not here." Benia nodded silently and he continued. "We can't go now because you would be missed when your roommates return, so I'll be back when the moon has set. Be ready to go, and tell no one you're leaving. Bring everything of value to you – you won't be coming back. And we'll need the cover of darkness, so wear the blackest cloak you own."
Benia didn't speak, but simply nodded; her eyes were red and glistening with tears. Kalen stood up and looked down at his pupil. "I'll be back when the moon sets. Be careful, be ready, and know that you'll be safe." With that, he put his hood back on, and the light in the room lessened once more, hiding his face in blackness. He opened the door and disappeared, the dark material of his cloak flowing behind him like a liquid shadow.