Flecks Of Blue

One wrapped broken arm, a sprained wrist on the other side, and both legs felt like jello as Tarros pumped his arms up and down, running for all he was worth.

“Faster, Sparky!” The watch captain screamed from the center of the training field. He didn’t even seem bothered by the dust Tarros was kicking up as he ran laps around the outside edge. Other guards watched on with amusement, snickering and making bets on how many laps he’d complete before he collapsed. Some cheered him on while others gave discouraging comments, hoping for him to fail so they’d win it all.

Tarros’s entire focus was on pleasing the captain. He just had what—four or five more laps?

After Iris was taken away a couple days ago, Tarros had woken up in a state of panic. Amara was nowhere to be seen, so any questions he had about Iris’ whereabouts had gone unanswered.

Once he was back at the orphanage, however, Harrigan had immediately questioned him about his injuries. He’d been too tired to lie, and the wonderful, if overprotective, caretaker had taken him to the watch captain, demanding Iris' release and apology for the actions of the guard.

Iris couldn’t be released, as according to the captain—a gruff man who’d never met the blade of a shaving razor—she’d been transferred. He didn’t offer more details, no matter how hard Tarros pried. The apology never even arrived, as it wasn’t apparently within the captain’s jurisdiction. It just so happened the guard responsible for Iris’ capture had been walking by as they were leaving, and Tarros had been overcome with the same rage from the night before.

Unlike last time, Tarros’s storming emotions had been transferred into the meager Auris he knew how to control, and he’d directed the majority to his legs, leaving some to his cocked fist. There was no scream as he’d torn across the ground, and the guard couldn’t react in time to dodge. His punch had sent the lumbering giant halfway across the courtyard rolling end over end. His wrist now sprained, Tarros was at least happy to have gotten some payback for his broken arm. The other guards had to restrain the enraged giant of a man, and Tarros was taken back to the captain.

According to him, he had guts to face such a larger enemy he knew he couldn’t beat. That, or he was an idiot. But the fact he’d landed a punch had impressed the captain nonetheless. From that interaction, he’d been allowed to work towards becoming one of the city’s watchguard. He was old enough, but his body wasn’t what you would call a top performer. Yet Tarros would do anything to find Iris, and he would start at ground zero to do so.

Hence his current situation.

“Did you not hear me Sparky?! Faster!”

The only stipulation for working with the guards was a requirement to complete 20 laps around the training field. Being an orphan helped him build stamina with such a skinny body, but this was just insane.

No use of Auris as a caveat for this test was torture.

At three laps left, his legs felt like they were ready to run away on their own. Two laps to go and he swore his lungs were being repeatedly stabbed from the inside. One lap remaining had him seeing spots, the outer edges of his vision closing in like a collapsing tunnel.

At last, Tarros crossed the line marking the completion of the final lap. He released all control over his body, face planting into the dirt and moaning once his broken arm hit the ground beside him. Footsteps sounded from behind him, Captain Pike bending over and blocking the sunlight from beaming into his eyes, “You did it, kid. Welcome to the ranks. Now get up.”

Captain Pike reached down and helped Tarros to his feet. He spoke while dusting him off, “You’re still considered fresh meat, but you’re part of the family now. Fuck up too many times, and that family might turn on you, understood?”

“Yeah.”

Captain Pike cuffed him on the back of the head, “How about ‘Yes Sir?’”

Tarros winced, “Yes Sir.”

“Better, now go to the mess hall and get some proper rations in you, Sparky. You look like a strong wind could fold you in half.”

“Yes Sir.” he repeated before running off to stuff his face.

Pike’s second-in-command, Arnold, walked over, “Surprised he made it, Sir.”

“Yeah…he’s a fighter, that one. Be interesting to see how he works alongside Henly.” Captain Pike’s lips fought against the smile threatening to break his normally stoic or angry facade.

Arnold looked over, “You paired him with Henly? You sure that’s a good idea, Captain?”

“Constantly in the presence of the source of his anger? Makes you excited, doesn’t it, Arnold?” Pike’s mouth lost the fight against his growing excitement, his grin widening in a rare display of eagerness towards the unknown.

Arnold could only shake his head at the Captain’s antics. One thing was for sure—he was looking forward to the kid’s growth.

***

Iris

BANG BANG BANG!

The euphoria of undisturbed slumber was broken by a knocking more annoying than an intense migraine. Iris clenched the sheets intertwined between her fingers. She hoped they would protect her from the incessant sound that was only growing louder and more impatient.

Another round of furious knocking came alongside a muffled voice on the other side of the door, “Iris, come on. Aerowyn’s waiting for us downstairs.”

She groaned, not wanting to leave the cloud below her.

“I know you can hear me. Get up and let’s go.” Colin said.

She considered ignoring him and going back into hibernation, but a pang of hurt rocked her as her more than empty stomach let loose its protests. Gently, she propped herself up into a sitting position. The spot where she’d fallen asleep contained a leftover streak of her own blood, and she glanced down at the mottled red scab running across her torso, clear for all to see from the rip in the tunic.

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

Iris plopped to her feet and walked over the door, cracking it just a hair. She peeked at Colin through the gap, and he scrunched up his face.

“Mother’s tits, you stink.” he said.

“What did you expect? Fresh flowers and herbs? I’m going to wash up and change.” She closed the door and went to explore the bathroom.

A wave and some change later, Iris exited the bathroom feeling better than she had in a long time. It wasn’t often she was allowed to bathe when she was at the church. Donations were scarce, so Elder Varron rarely even showered himself.

Someone, probably Blythe, must have come in while she was bathing based on the folded clothes placed neatly on the bed. The sheets had been changed too and the streak of blood was notably absent.

Iris changed into the clothes. They fit her almost perfectly, just being a little too large in some areas like her chest and waist. The white top with blue and brown gem studded lining both contrasted and paired nicely against her almond skin. A simple pair of black trousers, inlaid with golden filigree finished off her outfit, some drawstrings in the right areas for her to adjust sizing as need be. They hung loose in all the right areas, not cinching her still somewhat throbbing wounds.

As per her usual morning routine, she took in her appearance in the body length mirror in the corner of the room, this one intact compared to the broken wreck of a mirror she had back at the church. If the Iris from a few days ago saw her now, she’d probably think it was another dream she was having. She looked good.

She tussled her damp hair a few times, causing some water to fling off onto the floor. With one last look into her own tricolored eyes, she turned to head down—

Iris paused.

She turned back and stepped closer. She leaned forward with furrowed brows, studying her eyes once again. Her fingers pulled back on her fox-like eyelids.

Huh…

Brown on the outside and green inner ring. And that was where the similarities to her everyday routine ended. Blue streaks ran through the brown and green rings, so subtle you couldn’t see them unless you really looked. To her, it was a night and day difference with her being so used to checking her appearance every morning.

Maybe it was her imagination? Iris blinked her eyes a few times, thinking the action would cause the color to disappear. Nope…still there.

She figured she’d ask Aerowyn or Colin about it. After all, the Patriarch had promised breakfast.

***

Making her way downstairs, Iris found Aerowyn, Colin, and Patriarch Walter in the dining room sitting around a large table filled with so much food she didn’t know how the plates weren’t spilling over the edge. The three were in an intense discussion…well, Colin was intense. The other two were relaxed in their chairs and sipping on some steaming drink. Colin was leaning over the table, and his face was stuck in some indubious expression.

“Aerowyn, please tell me you don’t believe this!” Colin said.

“It will be fine. No one is going to come here for a while.” Aerowyn responded, demeanor still relaxed.

The Patriarch noticed Iris, who was frozen at the sight of so much food, standing in the archway and raised his cup in greeting, “Good morning, Iris. Please, come join us. Help yourself to anything you think might suit your tastes.” He did a once over of her outfit, a hint of sorrow coming across his features as she came around the table.

She sat down in one of the many vacant chairs and took a moment to appreciate the sheer quantity of food splayed before her. It was overwhelming.

Blythe, who had been standing next to the wall so still he may as well have been a statue, practically materialized before her as he poured Iris some steaming herbal concoction that smelled vaguely like the garden they’d ran through the night before. Gingerly, she took a sip. The flavor was exactly what she thought that garden would taste like, earthy yet refreshing.

Aerowyn and Colin were still going back and forth, with Walter chiming in here and there with his own inputs. Iris devoted just a sliver of her attention to the conversation as she shoveled different foods onto her plate.

Colin’s hands closed into fists, “This is going to be the first place they are going to check! Milo isn’t permanently gone—he saw you, Aerowyn.”

“You’re right, he did see me.” Aerowyn set down his drink, “However, they aren’t going to send anyone with Traits. It’s too much of a risk. At this point, they’ll likely send patrols of Oathbound without Traits to hunt us—well, her down. The upper districts are going to be busy answering doors for a while.” He chuckled with undisguised mirth.

“Exactly! They’re going to come here and demand they search every corner of this place!”

“They already did.” Walter said.

“So we—huh?! What do you mean?” Colin said, looking at the Patriarch.

“They’ve already searched the house.” He repeated.

Iris paused in her crazed food consumption. There was no way they searched the place already. As far as Iris was concerned, they hadn’t been disturbed the night before. Then again, she didn’t know if anything would’ve been able to wake her up at that point. She’d been beyond tired.

Colin voiced the very thoughts flowing through her head, “When? How? I didn’t hear anything.”

“Neither did the castle maids or guards when we walked by them ourselves.” Aerowyn gave Colin a smug look.

“Huh…”

While Colin thought that over, Iris chimed in, “So what now?”

Aerowyn became pensive, “We haven’t thought that far ahead.” Iris’ eyes displayed her growing panic, but Aerowyn stopped her before she could interject, “We will figure this out, Iris. You have my promise.”

“And mine.” Walter pointed out, expression resolute.

“One thing is for certain,” Aerowyn started while looking at Iris, “We need to make it so you’re not helpless. As it stands, you’re deadweight to us if they do find us. Colin, I’ll leave it to you to get her ready.”

“Ready how?” Colin asked.

“Get her a blade, a bow, I don’t know—something she’s suited for. And then train her how to use it.” Aerowyn replied.

A statement that was made to comfort Iris, but one that made her nervous instead. How was she supposed to face Colin again in that scenario? Last time she’d faced off against him…she didn’t even want to think about it.

Meanwhile, Colin looked to be deep in thought, “Even if we do manage to get her to where she won't accidentally fall on her own blade, it’s still other Oathbound we are facing, Aerowyn. Most of them will have more training and combat experience than her.”

“Do what you can. The barest modicum of adequacy will be more helpful than how she is now.” came Aerowyn’s response.

Iris held up a hand, “Um, hello. Do I not get a say in all this? It is my life we are talking about here.”

Walter cocked his head with a smile, “Hmm, I don’t know, Iris. Tell me, if you have a well honed Oathbound swinging his weapon at your neck, don’t you want to know how best to keep your head attached to your shoulders?” He said, much to her consternation.

“She’s going to need more than just a weapon.” Colin spoke, which Aerowyn somehow understood the meaning behind.

“Argh, forgot about that tidbit. I’ll get her fitted. We can do that now. Iris, come with me, it’s time to try something new with my Trait.”