Chapter Text
Kuai Liang was having his late dinner, sitting alone at the table and eating in peace, which, to be honest, was how he preferred it after the intense, mentally and physically taxing training earlier that day. It happened on occasion, breaking their normal routine to keep the trainees on their toes. He wasn’t in the mood for socialising with anybody at the moment. It wasn’t always like this, and he hadn’t done bad at all during his practice, but he was a little tired, nonetheless, and couldn’t wait to go back to the quarters that he shared with his brother and have a well-deserved rest; perhaps read something… or just go to sleep, as soon as he was in his chamber, not even waiting for Bi-Han to return after he was done with his own training and other duties for the day, which Kuai Liang normally did to make sure his brother was alright before they went to sleep in their separate chambers.
Despite the exhaustion, he, as always, was very aware of everything going on around him. He had almost finished his meal when he heard a strange conversation at the table behind his own. Two slightly older boys weren’t exactly very quiet for him to have to try very hard to hear them talk. But then, one of them, Haitao his name was, was always loud and wasn’t making it hard for anybody to eavesdrop on him.
“Haven’t you heard? Yufei was running errands yesterday; he said he heard someone crying in the dungeon when he was delivering a message. They are keeping somebody very young there. Let’s go and see what it’s all about,” Haitao suggested excitedly.
“No way. I’m not getting in trouble because of you again. And if you go, I’ll tell someone,” the other boy threatened, completely unimpressed with the idea. It earned him a huff of annoyance from Haitao and an accusation of being a coward and a snitch.
The information had definitely gotten Kuai Liang’s attention. The palace’s dungeon wasn’t exactly a forbidden area, but they weren’t really allowed to go to there either. He knew the clan sometimes had prisoners from the world outside of their clan, but, unless somebody had a special permission, interactions with said prisoners were forbidden. In other words, if you had no real and approved by the higher ups reason to go there, you weren’t allowed to be there; plain and simple. And young members of their clan definitely fell into that category.
A child supposedly being held prisoner there didn’t seem very believable.
Tundra kept thinking about the unverified information the next day. Unless somebody had gotten something wrong, or made it all up out of boredom, and there was really no child to speak of, what would a child do in the dungeon if he or she actually did exist? He couldn’t see any of the clan’s children missing, and any new arrivals they had were normally placed with the rest of the trainees. Nobody gave them time to adjust, unless they were too young and needed to be taken care of, like Kuai Liang when he had been brought here with his brother, from what little he knew anyway.
He was rarely disobedient, and him causing any sort of trouble wasn’t typical of him, but there weren’t many interesting things going on in the clan’s grounds, so anything out of the ordinary made Kuai Liang want to investigate. Such was his nature.
He was fully aware that he wouldn’t be able to really enter the dungeon just yet when he headed there after his normal training routine before dinner. He managed to enter the yard and even the building itself. It was nothing impressive on the outside, but he knew the major part of it was underground. He had no idea how deep the subterranean part went, but, by the gods, he had always been curious about it! What secrets did this ancient place keep?
As soon as he entered the building, he was stopped by a guard just inside. Before the man said anything, Tundra decided to ask his questions, not actually expecting any answers.
“Why is there a child in the dungeon? Is it one of ours?” he enquired, even though he already knew it wasn’t one of the clan’s children. He did sometimes feign innocent ignorance when he thought it would work in his favour; fishing for information was definitely a good reason to use that particular tactics. It had used to be Bi-Han’s trick. Undeniably, out of the two of them his older brother was the crafty one. Kuai Liang had seen him doing it when he had been younger and learned it by just looking and listening. It usually worked when used on adults, especially if you tried to appear smaller and looked up at them with wide eyes. Bi-Han no longer did anything like that, because he had just turned seventeen and such tricks simply wouldn’t work anymore (he preferred subtle blackmail and coercion nowadays). As Kuai Liang was successfully using his older brother’s emotional manipulation, he was secretly looking around, his eyes taking in every detail that could later become useful.
“How did you..?” the guard scowled, obviously surprised that the boy even knew, but then composed himself. “It’s none of your concern, Tundra. Get out. You know you’re not allowed to be here,” the man replied, sternly, but calmly, somewhat mollified by the curious boy, nonetheless. Kuai Liang expected the reply. But he had already got what he needed: the placement of two additional guards in the yard that weren’t typically there, as well as the information that, for some unfathomable reason, some child was, indeed, somewhere down there. He couldn’t see any cells from his current point, because there were stairs, descending somewhere where the cells probably were, further down the wide corridor. He could hear some quiet, indistinguishable echoes from somewhere deep inside, but those weren’t cries or anything of that sort. It was more like a distant sound of metal bars being hit or barred doors being opened or closed. It was hard to tell.
On top of that, he thought he had found a way to get into the ancient building without being caught, even though he had no idea what to do next and where to go once he was inside. There was absolutely no guarantee that that would even work at all. Maybe he would have to use some sort of trick to distract the guards if his dubious plan failed. But, one thing was clear: Tundra’s curiosity was absolutely piqued now, so he was very determined to find out what was going on here.
Bi-Han had warned him that he wouldn’t be back until midnight, so Kuai Liang, left to his own devices, took the chance to use the darkness of the night, as well as the fact that most people had already retired for the night, to sneak to the dungeon again. The additional two guards in the yard were exactly where he had expected them to be. It was a new shift though. The two before them hadn’t stopped Tundra earlier, so he was wondering if they were there to prevent somebody from escaping, rather than entering. Still, letting them see him was probably a very bad idea. One of the two looked cold and sleepy, so Kuai Liang decided that sneaking past him would be easier. Which he did, successfully.
There was a metal grate at the corner of the building in the wall just above the ground. It appeared rather small due to the architecture of the building and so old that nobody was probably paying any attention to it; it didn’t stand out at all. Kuai Liang sneaked right to it, just as he had planned from the start. He knew what it was. He had seen such systems in the other parts of the temple’s complex where there were no windows, so it was familiar to him, enough that he’d thought he could use it when he had been here earlier. Those systems allowed the air to move freely and, he imagined, were important where there were no other ways to air out windowless spaces. He remembered hearing somebody talking about it to somebody else and explaining that, without air travelling in and out, confined spaces, especially underground, became, sort of, sealed and the air could become dangerous to breathe. He didn’t think it was exclusive to their temple, but he hadn’t paid much attention to remember the details; the general idea was somewhat clear to him anyway.
The only question was whether he was small enough to be able to move through what he knew were rather narrow tunnels. There was only one way to find out.
After some time and effort, he managed to prise the old grate away from its rightful place with a knife that he had taken with him in a sheath tied to his belt, just in case. It took a while to remove it, especially since he had to be very mindful of the noise he was making in the process. There could be nothing to attract the guards’ attention, especially now that it was night and there were very few other audial distractions, created by other people: working, training and such. At least, the night was windy. It wasn’t much, but it was something. He had to be very patient, but also quick, before anybody was able to notice him. He had to stop and hide behind the corner when he saw one of the guards turning and making a few steps in his direction, likely to simply exercise his legs. Tundra had to wait for him to go back to the exact same spot he had been before and turn away. Only then Kuai Liang returned to his attempts.
He had heard and read all those stories about their clan members in different times of history infiltrating even the most protected places, such as royal palaces and well-guarded prisons, and he couldn’t help feeling as if this was his personal adventure. He felt a little excited when the grate was, finally, dislodged and the way was open for him. He made sure the grate wouldn’t fall on the ground when he managed to put it back in place, as soon as he was inside the tunnel.
The stone passage was, indeed, very narrow; he had no choice but crawl on his stomach the whole time, and no adult would’ve been able to fit, but his size was nearly perfect for him not to get stuck, even though it was hardly comfortable. It was also quite dark, dusty, with plenty of cobwebs that he had to clear with his hands to make way for himself. He stopped for a few moments when he saw what he believed was a skeleton of a big rat. Wonderful… He wasn’t very squeamish, but couldn’t help looking at it, unimpressed. He managed to move it to the side with his elbow and crawl past it. He found a smaller one later, but just huffed in mild annoyance and did the same thing with it. Other than that, there was really nothing remarkable here.
Kuai Liang could feel the downward slope of the tunnel, even though it was very gradual, which was making it slightly easier for him to crawl, but he, of course, couldn’t tell where he was. It was dark, except for some small, barred windows, if they could be called that. They let little light into the tunnel, but it was definitely better than nothing. Through them, he could see some corridors and empty cells that looked as if they hadn’t been used for a very long time. At some point, due to his limited view of what was outside he saw little else other than something that looked more like a wall of a cave before he could see something man-made again. Tundra couldn’t imagine why those ‘windows’ were even barred, because not even an infant would’ve been able to get out through them, so there was no chance for any prisoner to escape by using them. It made him wonder how he would even be able to get out of the tunnel to be able to sneak through all those corridors and, hopefully, finally find what he was looking for. For now, his only chance was to keep crawling and looking through those pathetic excuses for windows. A very limited adventure, to be fair, but there were no other options for him so far. It didn’t look as if there was anything interesting outside anyway. On top of that, he had absolutely no idea about the general layout of the dungeon. It didn’t help that the tunnel split in different directions several times and he had to make a choice randomly, due to the lack of knowledge. He memorised all of his choices and would be able to find his way back with no trouble, he was sure of it, and yet, this adventure was quickly becoming quite disappointing.
Eventually, he was starting to feel a little claustrophobic, thinking of little else other than a strong desire to get back on his feet and move around freely. It almost made him give up and turn back when, suddenly, he thought he’d heard muffled noises of distress. It made him stop and listen very carefully. It happened again. It wasn’t close, it didn’t sound as if it was, but, at least, he had an idea of the direction now, unless the sounds reverberating through this old place were deceptively leading him the wrong way. On his way he saw yet another cell and looked carefully into it, as much as the poor light inside it allowed him to. His eyes widened when he saw a hunched old man sitting on the floor at the wall, completely motionless. By the look of him, Tundra could tell that the man had been here for a very long time, if not for the most part of his life. It was impossible to know for sure. His eyes (as much as Kuai Liang could see them anyway) looked empty, as if he wasn’t even there anymore, his spirit long gone, but there was still some life left in that body. It was as if he could no longer see or hear anything and was beyond help. The view made Tundra feel very uncomfortable. What had this man done to deserve such a horrible fate? Was he one of their own or an outsider? Maybe... maybe he, too, had broken some rules? Kuai Liang wondered if the noises he’d heard had come from this prisoner, but he really doubted it. What he'd heard sounded more like a woman… or a child.
As if on cue, he heard it again, farther ahead, but it was closer this time. A few pitiful whimpers and what sounded like begging. Tundra threw one last look at the poor man in the cell and moved past it. Two empty cells later he, finally, found what he had been looking for. The small, barred window, just like the rest of them, allowed him a limited view of the cell that wasn’t very well-lit, but Kuai Liang could see what was going on in it as clear as day.
A child, likely a boy, but Tundra wasn’t sure, was sitting on a backless chair with his hands bound behind his back. A woman that Kuai Liang knew was somebody from their clan was standing in front of him, her presence angry and menacing. There was a bowl of gruel placed on another stool next to her. She was taking spoonsful of it and force-feeding the child. She wasn’t particularly patient about it either, forcing his mouth open by squeezing his chin and jaw and shoving more food into it.
"I've warned you this would happen if you don't cooperate and take your meals willingly. Now, stop wasting my time and eat. I said: eat!"
Quite soon, it all went back up his throat and the boy vomited. His tormentor backhanded him hard across the face for it, the loud noise cut through the air. The young prisoner screamed and almost got knocked down on the floor from the force of the blow, at the same time trying to move away from the woman. She didn’t let him do either of those things, holding him in place.
“If you throw up again, I’ll force your vomit back down your throat!” she threatened. The child just cried and kept shaking, coughing and choking on the gruel. It appeared, the woman wanted to keep his head in place, but the boy had no hair at all, so she could only press her fingers into the back of his head or hold him by the back of his neck. Sometimes she grabbed the collar of his clothes (Tundra noticed he was wearing standard clothes that some young trainees of the clan wore outside of their training hours) and gave him a rough shake when he tried to turn his face away from more spoons of food that she kept forcing into him. Tears were running down his face, as well as some blood from his nose. Some of it was being forced into his mouth together with the food, probably not on purpose, but rather because the woman didn't care. The boy looked absolutely miserable.
Kuai Liang was startled by the scene. He hadn’t known what to expect, true, but this was definitely something he would’ve never thought he would find here. Violence was a normal part of their lives, and everybody here had no choice but get used to it, but when it came to someone so young, it was expected of them to, at least, be able to start learning to fight back. They were given means and opportunities to, at least, attempt to defend themselves, even if they failed and got beaten up (never too severely, just enough to point out their mistakes later and make them learn from them). But this boy, quite obviously, had not been trained, let alone trained to take a blow to minimise the pain and the damage from it, nor was he given any opportunities to even cover himself up with his arms, as most people, trained or otherwise, would do. This was in no way a learning experience. He was simply bound and expected to just take the abuse.
Once the bowl was empty, the woman untied the boy’s hands. Immediately, he got up unsteadily to distance himself from her, breathing heavily. While she was gathering the dishes and some clothes, unable to stop himself, the boy did throw up on the floor, no matter how hard he had, obviously, tried not to, his body rejecting everything that had just been forced into it. Likely afraid of what would happen to him because of it, he scurried away into the corner of the cell where Kuai Liang could no longer see him from his position. The woman was livid, but, thankfully, didn’t follow up on her threat and angrily cleaned up the floor instead, before taking the dirty clothes and dishes with her and leaving. There were two other members of the clan, just outside the cell, that Kuai Liang only saw when the heavy door was opened. She shook her head at them and then the door was closed and locked up from the outside. Tundra wasn’t sure what he had just seen. Why did she need a backup outside the cell, if that was what those two men were? Even if this boy was a new trainee-to-be who refused to cooperate and be a part of the clan, all of this was still a little too extreme.
Kuai Liang had grown up in the clan, and it was all that he knew, but, over the years, he had seen children who were defiant. Most of them were broken very soon, realising that they had no choice but accept their new life, if they wanted to survive. He knew about those who hadn’t. He’d heard about a teenage boy who had tried to escape, just a little over a year earlier. He had failed and nobody had seen him after that. Tundra did not remember his life before the clan, due to his very young age, but he understood; deep inside, he understood. He had seen several children brought from the world outside, old enough to remember everything before the Lin Kuei, had heard enough of their stories, personal and about the world in general. It was more preferable for the clan to have children like Kuai Liang, who knew no other life, but, once in a while, someone a little older than that was brought in. Tundra could imagine what their lives had been like from what he’d heard from them, from some books he’d managed to get his hands on and from his occasional trips to the nearest towns with his brother or other members of the clan. He was quite observant, too, so he did have some idea of what those children had left behind and he did have some idea of how attached most children were to their parents. Bi-Han refused to tell him about theirs, even though Kuai Liang had no doubt in his mind that his older brother did remember them. It had long since become a forbidden topic in their conversations.
Had this boy, too, been taken from his family and refused to cooperate, so much so that he’d ended up being locked up here? Tundra couldn’t claim he knew everything that was going on in the clan, of course, but this was the first time he’d even heard about a child being placed in the dungeon for disobedience or any other reason at all. And what about the additional guards outside? Maybe they weren’t even related to any of this though. Questions were piling up, and he knew his speculations were useless. There was only one way to learn the truth.
He waited for about two more minutes, making sure they really were alone now. It didn’t seem as if there was anybody outside the door or anywhere nearby. Kuai Liang could hear the boy’s soft sobs and panicked breaths slowing down. Should he really say anything or it was best for him to just turn back and quietly return to his quarters, undiscovered by anybody, this boy included? But then, he imagined that he would not be able to just let it go, and he was already here, he had already seen things that he wasn’t supposed to see, so he might as well try to learn more. He did feel bad for the other boy, too. Just leaving him alone and forgetting about him didn’t feel right or even possible anymore. Kuai Liang almost regretted giving in to his curiosity, because there was no way back now. He groaned internally.
“Are you alright?” he asked quietly, once he’d gathered his thoughts. He didn’t know how else to start. He heard a soft gasp in response. Hearing somebody talking to you from the inside of a wall must be scary, especially if your nerves were already frazzled. From what Kuai Liang could hear, the boy didn’t move now and he couldn’t even hear the young prisoner breathing anymore. “Can you come closer so I can see you?” Tundra tried again. “I promise I’m not here to hurt you.” There was no response. He waited for almost a minute. “Say something.”
It seemed, curiosity had, finally, gotten the better of the boy, and he approached tentatively, but not too close, and looked up. The barred window in the wall was less than three feet above him. The fire on the walls wasn’t enough to illuminate the cell well, but they could see each other without much trouble with Tundra’s face almost touching the bars. Perhaps, him being just as young was making the prisoner feel less intimidated. Kuai Liang could take a good look at him now.
The boy looked about his age. European. He had grey eyes (quite an exotic feature for the clan), though the whites were reddened from crying. He was pale and had no hair, not even eyebrows or eyelashes, from what Kuai Liang could see. It was quite strange. Hair on anybody’s head could be shaved off, maybe eyebrows, too, though he had trouble imagining who would do such a thing and why. But the eyelashes? Maybe the boy was ill?
The clothes he was wearing didn’t prevent Kuai Liang from seeing some bruises and abrasions on him. It didn’t look as if there was any severe damage though. He looked cold, shivering and hugging himself with his arms for warmth and probably in search for some comfort that nothing else here could offer other than an old mattress on the floor at the opposite wall, which didn’t count at all. Kuai Liang suddenly thought about the old man he had seen earlier and what this place could do to a person. It made him feel a lump in his throat.
“I’m Kuai Liang. Or Tundra,” he introduced himself, again, not knowing what else to say, and it didn’t look as if the prisoner would speak without some encouragement. “What’s your name?”
“I don’t know,” the boy replied after several seconds, as if it was a perfectly normal thing not to know your own name.
“You don’t know?” Kuai Liang blinked in surprise and disbelief.
“I don’t remember.” The boy lowered his silver eyes.
“Do you remember how old you are?” Tundra tried again, feeling at a loss.
“No,” the prisoner shook his head.
“You look about my age.”
“Your age? How old are you then?” the boy sighed. Now that the surprise of such an unusual encounter was wearing off, he didn’t seem very enthusiastic, but, it appeared, he didn’t mind talking to somebody, anybody, who wasn’t violent towards him or dismissive either. He was probably just tired, mentally and physically.
“I’m eleven,” Kuai Liang answered.
“Okay,” the boy shrugged slightly, as if it was completely irrelevant to him, even if it could give him the idea about his own age. Their conversation wasn’t exactly productive, and Kuai Liang wasn’t sure how to continue. He had plenty of questions, but if the boy didn’t even know his own name, what answers could possibly be expected from him?
“Why won’t you eat?” Tundra asked after another minute of silence.
“I can’t…”
“Why?” Kuai Liang kept trying. It was a little frustrating, but he knew he had to be patient. The other boy bit his lip and thought for a few seconds before answering:
“I want to throw up all the time. I smell something burning. And it smells so bad,” he explained, as best as he could; the last words were close to a whisper. Tundra couldn’t smell anything burning. Maybe it was all in the boy’s head? He didn’t question it though. Because it seemed perfectly real for the prisoner. He then remembered that he had an apple that he had saved for later. He took it out of his pocket. It was surprisingly intact, even after him crawling through the tunnels. Maybe it would be more preferable than the gruel the boy had been force-fed? Kuai Liang wasn't entirely sure it was a good idea, since the prisoner couldn't even stomach that gruel, but maybe the taste could help? He had thrown up, too, so his stomach must be empty, even if he didn’t feel hungry. He must be very cold, and Tundra knew that hungry people tended to get cold even more.
“Try this,” he offered. The space between the bars was just enough for him to be able to get his arm into the cell, his hand holding the sweet fruit. Looking unsure, the boy reached up and took the apple, nonetheless. Then he just kept it in his lowered hand, not trying to eat it just yet. Kuai Liang didn’t comment on it.
He asked some more questions in an attempt to make a small talk, but the mysterious boy wouldn’t answer anymore. He looked exhausted and, eventually, just went to the opposite wall and lowered himself onto the mattress with some effort, the apple still in his hand. Tundra could see him trying to keep his eyes open, but, quite soon, he was asleep, curled up on his side. Kuai Liang gave up then and decided to leave him alone for now.
Going back was a true challenge, because he had to crawl backwards, feet first, until he reached the familiar place where the tunnel split and he could use that extra space to turn around and crawl in a normal way (if crawling on your stomach could be called normal). Thanks to his training, he was in a good enough shape, even though the gravity was against him now, because the tunnel was very gradually ascending. It would’ve been really hard otherwise, or so he imagined.
Once he sneaked back to his shared quarters, he had to wash up, then open the window and shake his clothes well from all the dust on it. Thankfully, Bi-Han wasn’t back yet, and Kuai Liang wanted to avoid questions from his observant brother.
He managed to return to the dungeon the very next evening, once more sneaking past the guards and crawling through the dusty tunnel to the other boy’s cell, which, this time, appeared to be a much shorter way, even though he knew the feeling was coming from him simply knowing the way now. He said a quiet hello to the rat’s skeleton, the first one on his way, amusedly thinking whether he should give it a name, strongly suspecting that this wasn’t the last time he was seeing it. Deliberately, he didn’t look inside the old man’s cell as he was crawling past it.
The boy was alone, sitting on his mattress and hugging himself with both arms. His silver eyes brightened up when Tundra quietly revealed his presence. The boy got up and came closer.
“Thank you for the apple,” he said.
“You ate it? I brought another one. Here.” Kuai Liang reached into the cell to give him the fruit. This time he had taken it with him intentionally.
“Thank you,” the boy whispered. He didn’t hesitate to slowly start munching on it, taking small bites. Tundra patiently waited for him to finish it without distracting him, because, clearly, eating wasn’t easy for him.
“You said you didn’t remember your name and… other things. Then what do you remember?” he asked. The other boy’s expression then changed from relaxed to a little tense and contemplative.
“I don’t know if it’s real,” he then said with a faraway look in his eyes. For a few moments it looked as if he was getting lost inside his own mind. Tundra felt the urge to pull him back.
“What is or isn’t real?”
“I think I saw dead people on the floor. They had soot on them. I knew they hurt me somehow, but I don’t remember that. I escaped that… dark place and then I was in the streets... and then somebody brought me here. I don’t even remember how.” It was pretty obvious that even those meagre memories were unclear; the boy must have been confused, even about what he did remember now, whether it was even real or not. Tundra tried to imagine what had really happened, but there simply wasn’t enough information to make sense of anything. Carefully, he took a good look at the other boy’s bald head, but he saw no serious injuries there, apart from some abrasions and bruises. None of that looked severe enough to be a head trauma that Kuai Liang knew could cause memory loss and other consequences. But he couldn’t tell for sure, and not all head traumas were visible, from what he knew anyway.
And, just as before, he couldn’t imagine what was going on here. This boy didn’t seem defiant at all, so Kuai Liang didn’t understand why he was being kept here and not placed in the barracks with the other young trainees. Kuai Liang lived in the quarters with his brother, and their conditions were way better, due to their special status as cryomancers. People who had any special status: abilities or as a reward for doing something noteworthy, more often than not, had a more comfortable life in a relative privacy. Which suited both Bi-Han and Kuai Liang well, because both of them were quite private people, who needed their space. Young trainees lived in the barracks that weren’t as comfortable, but it was, undoubtedly, a much better life than being locked up in the dungeon. Tundra just didn’t understand. Would it not be more productive to just place this boy with everybody else, eventually making him come to terms with his new life among others, even if he was, after all, defiant? Which still didn’t seem to be the case. How confusing.
Tundra’s eyes, once again, fell on the bruises on the side of the other boy’s face, especially the one at the corner of his mouth. They were from a fairly recent beating, he could tell, because the bruises weren't fully formed yet. The prisoner's lower lip had been split, but it was't bleeding anymore, as it probably had, and his eyelid on the same side of the face was slightly swollen.
“Why are you being punished?”
“I don’t know. Can you help me escape?” the boy asked. There was hope in his eyes.
“I… I don’t think anybody can escape the Lin Kuei.” Tundra replied apologetically, hating that he had to shatter that hope.
“The Lin Kuei?”
“It’s the clan I belong to. You’re in the clan’s territory. Everybody here is from the Lin Kuei.”
“But… But I thought you were… just like me: another prisoner. But you’re just like them?” The boy sounded so betrayed that Kuai Liang didn’t know what to say to make it better.
The prisoner then sat back down on the mattress, turned away and refused to talk to Tundra any longer. It stung a bit, but Kuai Liang didn’t, or, at least, tried not to hold it against the hurt boy. He decided that it would have been silly of him if he did. But, yes, it did sting. It became clear that it was best for him to leave after several weak and unsuccessful attempts to make the boy start talking again.
He found himself pouting all the way to his quarters.
“What’s with the face?” Bi-Han mocked him when he was back and took a good look at his younger brother.
“Nothing. It’s just like the one you make all the time. Must be contagious,” Kuai Liang grumbled in response.
“What was that? You don’t talk to me like that!” the older of the two scowled. Tundra huffed at that and sullenly went to his chamber.
“You’re not getting ill, are you?” Bi-Han asked him the next morning, his tone even. As if Kuai Liang wasn’t allowed to be in a bad mood sometimes, just like everybody else. He almost rolled his eyes. But he couldn’t really tell the truth to his brother, who was not-so-secretly concerned about his well-being, even if he wouldn’t openly admit it.
“I’m fine. I was just tired and needed some sleep,” Tundra replied instead, still in his bed. Admittedly, his mood was much better now. He hoped Bi-Han wasn’t in a hurry and they could spend some time together.
Despite the unpleasant result of his previous night’s visit, he was back in the dungeon that very evening yet again. Something inside him now saw it as his duty. He was lucky that he had his brother, despite said brother’s attitude sometimes. And this hurt, locked up boy had nobody in the entire world. If he did, he didn't remember them anyway. Imagining himself being in his place had made Tundra all the more determined to visit the young prisoner again, not wanting him to end up like that old man, two cells away.
The boy was surprised to see him, but Kuai Liang could immediately tell that his visit wasn’t unwelcome, despite the other boy wanting nothing to do with him last night after learning that he was from the clan, just like his tormentors. Tundra was, likely, the only one who treated him well, so maybe the boy could forgive him for being a part of the clan that held him captive, because it wasn’t as if Kuai Liang had any control over it. Maybe he could make the prisoner understand it?
“I thought you wouldn’t come here ever again,” the boy said softly.
“Well, I’m here. And I brought you some food.” It was wrapped in a clean piece of cloth that Kuai Liang had tied to his back to avoid squashing anything. Inside, there was a half loaf of bread, a good one, fresh and, hopefully, still a little warm, a flask of clean water (because he didn’t know if the boy was given enough, so he took it, just in case) and, yet again, an apple.
Tentatively, the grey-eyed boy took the offered food. He ate the apple, some bread and drank some water.
“I don’t think I can eat all of it,” he said, looking at the remaining piece of bread in his hands. He wasn’t very enthusiastic about eating it, but Tundra was sure he needed it, especially if him being fed always ended the way Kuai Liang had seen it ending during his first visit.
“Then hide it and eat it when you can,” he shrugged.
“Okay,” the boy agreed and sat down on the mattress. They were looking at each other and Kuai Liang put the side of his face on top of his hands, letting his head rest.
“What do you think they want from you?” he asked after a few minutes of silence. There must be a reason behind all of this, and he wanted to know.
“I think it’s because I hurt someone. But I don’t remember,” the boy replied.
“Hurt… whom?” Kuai Liang knew he was unsuccessful at hiding his surprise.
“Those people covered in soot… and someone else later. I don’t remember,” the boy said again, more emotionally, and shook his head forcefully, as if trying to shake the confusion off, but it wouldn’t go away.
Tundra didn’t know what to think. He had seen many people who hurt others; the clan had enough of them, but, to him, this boy didn’t look as if he could hurt a fly. There must be some sort of mistake. Whatever it was, whether those blurred memories were real or not, even he, despite his young age and the lack of information, could tell that something horrible must have happened to his new acquaintance.
“It’s very cold here…” the boy whispered and rubbed his own skinny shoulders. Kuai Liang wasn’t surprised. People here got cold a lot. Many were simply used to it by now. But newbies weren’t. As a cryomancer, Tundra had no such problem, but he was observant, so he knew that it was common. This boy’s lips were often pale-purplish from him constantly feeling cold. Kuai Liang took a good look at the walls of the cell. There were cracks between some stones, a couple of them were wide enough to hide a folded blanket. Not a thick blanket, but he hoped it would be better than nothing if he brought one.
“I’ll bring you a blanket next time, but you’ll have to hide it when you hear somebody coming here,” he warned.
“Okay,” the surprised prisoner eagerly nodded.
“The flask. We can’t leave it here for anybody to find.” They had to be careful.
“Here,” the boy picked it up and reached up to put it into Kuai Liang’s waiting hand. It hadn’t appeared as if he was particularly thirsty, so maybe he was getting enough water, after all.
“And don’t leave any apple cores for them to find.”
“Okay, I won’t.”
“I have to go. See you tomorrow.”
“Um, wait… Tundra,” the boy stopped him. “What’s your other name? I forgot,” he confessed, a little shyly.
“It’s Kuai Liang,” the young cryomancer replied, unable to hold back a smile. The boy mouthed his name and nodded, as if giving him a permission to leave.
Unbeknown to either of them, they were being watched. Their interaction, their every move. Cameras hidden in the walls of the cell were infallibly recording the whole scene.
Sektor and his passion for technology… It did come handy sometimes, but Grandmaster disagreed with his young son trying to push his adorable fantasies of radically modernising the clan, especially after several years at university, away from the clan (which had been treated as a mission), becoming one of its youngest graduates. Thankfully, he had toned it down recently. They had survived for many centuries thanks to their traditions. But, yes, sometimes it was, indeed, useful. Perhaps, Grandmaster should be a little more open-minded and less critical of his ideas in the future?
“Just give me your permission to dispose of that arrogant brat, and I’ll take care of it immediately.”
“Silence, Sektor. I have no intention to allow such a thing, just because of your ridiculous rivalry with his older brother,” Grandmaster replied calmly. Sektor was cold and calculating, but, as cunning as he was, he was often unreasonable; not a hothead by any means, but ready to kill the problem off (and a person who posed the problem), rather than use circumstances to his advantage. Sometimes Grandmaster suspected that, one day, he would meet his end by his own son’s hand, because he was becoming such a problem for the young man’s ambitions.
Their little prisoner was quite a disappointment, and Grandmaster had expected much more from him when he had been brought to the temple. But all he had seen so far was a scared, sickly child. Perhaps, there was a way to make the boy show his powers without physical and psychological violence that he had planned to intensify, due to the lack of progress. If Bi-Han’s brother could, somehow, improve the situation, there was no reason not to let him do it. Tundra wasn’t a particularly outgoing and communicative boy, but he had intelligence, as well as emotional intelligence. Unintentionally, he tended to draw other children to him and even command some form of authority, in his own small way, of course, and not just because of the fact that he had grown up in the clan or because of his innate powers. At just eleven, he was clever, beyond his age, and his personal qualities could, one day, place him in a real position of authority within the clan’s ranks. There was a good potential of that that had to be recognised. Some commanders were obeyed out of fear, others could make their loyal, trusting subordinates do absolutely anything, even jump to their death, no questions asked.
Not for the first time, Grandmaster had to acknowledge that the brothers were among the best people the clan had acquired in a long time.
Adults had failed to get any results from the Czech boy. Perhaps, another boy of about the same age could be more successful? It was worth trying. Grandmaster ordered one of the guards to bring Kuai Liang before him.
The boy looked uncomfortable, but not exactly fearful, waiting to be spoken to as he had been left by the guard before the throne. He, most definitely, already knew he was in trouble and why.
“Tundra, you must understand that breaking the rules entails serious consequences,” the Lin Kuei leader started. “You, of all people, should’ve known better.”
“Yes, Grandmaster,” the boy replied. He didn’t sound particularly remorseful, but he did acknowledge it. What else could he say, really?
“Do you have anything to say in your defence?”
“I just wanted to know why that boy was locked up there and not placed with everybody else, that’s all.”
“Oh, I can help you with that,” Grandmaster answered, his tone patronising, but he abandoned that tone for his next words: “Let’s just say, he’s not a usual boy. He has abilities that could benefit our clan very much. But, I imagine, he doesn’t know how to use them. And, if he does, he refuses to. He has used them before, in response to a threat when he was hurt and scared.” It was a watered-down version of the events, putting it mildly. His inquisitive and very experienced investigator had been adamant that the boy had, most likely, died, only to be restored to life as something new. A very regular little boy before was no longer that. Those foolish cultists, who had already unsuccessfully sacrificed many people over the years, children included, had had no idea what they had been playing with, strongly desiring to summon something from the Netherrealm (for what? To serve them? How stupid). One might think that they were just idiots who would never be able to succeed. But, wonder of wonders, their wish had, suddenly and surprisingly, come true! However, it was not the way they had imagined. Grandmaster wished he witnessed what had really happened there and how.
Unfortunately, the boy couldn’t tell him either. No child’s mind would’ve been able to remain intact after them being set on fire and burned alive and, likely, dying in an absolute agony as a result. And, perhaps, there was more to his unusual amnesia than just trauma. Nobody could tell if all those memories had been erased completely or trapped inside his damaged mind out of self-preservation. There were several interesting details though, such as him being almost ready to starve himself to death, because of the overwhelming stench he could still smell, not knowing that it was, likely, his own burning flesh that still haunted him, even though he didn’t remember the process of burning itself and even if it was only a traumatic memory, of sorts; one of the very few he still had.
“I want him to do it again and see if those abilities can be taken under his control,” Grandmaster continued. “Do you know why I’m sharing it with you, Tundra? I’m only doing it, because you’re responsible for that boy from now on. You got yourself involved in matters that had nothing to do with you. It was your own choice. It’s only fair if I reward your enthusiasm. If you fail to make him reveal his powers, you will get punished. Severely. And then, I will continue with my initial plan.”
“What’s the plan?” Tundra blurted out before he knew it, and swallowed. Grandmaster raised his eyebrow in response to his audacity, but couldn’t help feeling amused, too. This boy was too brave for his own good. The man decided to answer the question though.
“I will have him tortured: cut open, burned and racked until his joints separate, if you must know. You will be invited to watch, since you’re so curious about it. And, if that doesn’t bring the result that I expect, he will be put out of his misery, because I have no use for him if his powers don’t manifest themselves even in self-defence, the way they have before.”
Dread washed over Kuai Liang at those words, especially said in such a matter-of-factly manner. There was no way he could let that happen to the boy, regardless if he himself got punished or not. He knew that, as a cryomancer, he was too valuable to just get killed or seriously harmed, especially for what was, essentially, a relatively minor transgression.
But what if they were wrong, and the boy had no real powers? Maybe it was all a mistake? Then what?
“How am I supposed to make him do it?”
“I don’t know, Tundra. You’ve been resourceful enough to repeatedly get past our trained guards and made yourself at home at the supposedly well-guarded part of the temple, as if it was nothing out of the ordinary, so I’m leaving it up to your imagination. Beat him, give him a taste of your cold or convince him nicely; it’s your problem now. You’ve brought it on yourself with your disregard for the rules.”
Grandmaster could tell that Tundra wasn’t feeling so bold now. He decided to sweeten the pill… or throw him a bone, so to speak:
“Do you want to know his name?” As expected, that immediately captured Kuai Liang’s attention, his curiosity sparked. “It’s Tomas. Remember, he’s your responsibility now, and what happens to him is up to you.”
“Yes, Grandmaster.”
“You’re dismissed.”
So, Tomas wasn’t being punished for, somehow, hurting somebody he shouldn’t have, no, he was being forced to show how he had done it. As an adult Tundra would’ve said it was a rather twisted logic to try to awaken those mysterious powers by tormenting a child, who, by all appearances, had already been through an absolute nightmare. Being a child himself, Kuai Liang simply felt the wrongness of it all.
“What have you gotten yourself into?!” Bi-Han shouted later in their quarters, as he had already been informed about everything (because, of course, he had been). He was furious. “I’ve been trying not to draw any unnecessary attention to you, but, clearly, you don’t appreciate it if you stick your nose into everything! I should have left you to fend for yourself long ago!” It was as good as his brother telling him that he cared. His words weren’t exactly fair though, because they implied that Kuai Liang was treated better than everybody else, and it was expected less of him than of any other boy here. It wasn’t true. In fact, sometimes it was quite the opposite, especially because he was a cryomancer and had to live up to his older brother.
Still, Tundra felt a little bad for letting him down. He knew Bi-Han had to work hard to keep them both in high regard. If Kuai Liang got punished, it would also reflect badly on his brother, who, on top of everything, had rivals who would be happy to fan the flames, one way or another. After the nerve-wracking experience, however, Bi-Han shouting at him was almost a welcome diversion for Tundra.
He barely slept the following night, his mind too young to easily come to terms with everything that had happened earlier.
Oddly enough, he was dismissed after his morning training routine the next day and wasn’t expected back, because, apparently, his tutors had orders to let him focus on his ‘special task’, even though they, most certainly, didn’t know what it was. They never questioned it though.
If Tomas was his responsibility, it meant Kuai Liang could take care of him, too. Immediately after having his meal, he decided to head to the dungeon. He brought the little prisoner the warmest, thickest blanket he’d managed to get his hands on and a wooden tray of food, which, among other things, had the biggest, reddest and juiciest apple he’d managed to find in the kitchens.
His peers were eyeing him curiously on his way there, but nobody asked him anything, thankfully. The guards at and inside the dungeon, on the other hand, looked completely nonchalant. He was accompanied and let into the cell without any questions asked (he was glad that the guard was leading the way, because this was the first time he saw the dungeon from this side of the walls), almost treated as a person of authority with his free access to where many others weren’t allowed to be. He stopped the feeling of self-importance before it had managed to fully form, because this was a punishment, not a privilege.
He couldn’t see Tomas at first. The cell wasn’t very well-lit, as per usual, and it was obvious that the boy was instinctively trying to hide and make himself smaller, because he knew what it meant when somebody entered the cell: it meant being hurt and terrorised. Tundra then saw him in the darkest corner of the cell. If trained, he could become good at stealth, Kuai Liang smiled to himself.
“It’s you!” Tomas sighed in relief when he, too, saw the other boy and recognised him, even though he had only seen his face behind a small, barred ‘window’. “But I thought you weren’t allowed to be here.”
“I have a permission now. Look what I got,” Kuai Liang gave Tomas the blanket, which the boy immediately wrapped around himself. They both sat down on the mattress and Tundra put the tray between them, hoping he could encourage the prisoner to eat a proper meal. “Can you eat, like, normally? That smell, is it still there?”
“It’s better now. I think it’s going away,” Tomas replied as he started to eat slowly and tentatively. Kuai Liang nodded, satisfied with the reply and just let him take his time, focusing on the soft sounds of the place that spoke of loneliness, isolation and hopelessness. Just like the rest of the cells he had seen, this one was quite large and just as bare. Deep underground, there wasn’t a single window to look outside and you didn’t even know if it was day or night or probably even what time of the year it was, unless you could tell by the cold that, likely, became even less tolerable during winters for any person who had no abilities like Tundra’s that made cold feel comfortable, instead of causing suffering that couldn’t be escaped in a place like this.
Tomas was finishing his meal now after initially struggling with chopsticks a little, but, eventually, getting better at using them. He had a bit of a trouble finishing what was still left on the tray though, the bowl of rice in particular. But it was better if he left something than threw up later. He had already eaten the hard-boiled egg and bread, as well as the apple, of course. Pleased with the progress, Tundra decided to reveal something that he thought was very important, so he could no longer wait:
“I learned… something yesterday. Your name.”
“Really?” the other boy perked up at that.
“It’s Tomas.” Now that Kuai Liang had said it aloud, he suspected he had mispronounced it, because, he was pretty sure, it ended with ‘sh’, if he’d heard right. Before he could correct himself and try again, the other boy asked:
“What else? What else did you learn about me?”
“Nothing,” Tundra shook his head. He was absolutely certain that Grandmaster knew much more than that, but he decided not to share this assumption with the other boy just yet. Maybe they could learn more later?
Kuai Liang was satisfied to see that there was barely anything left on the tray, other than empty dishes. He left, promising to visit the following day.
How was Tomas supposed to get over the confusion about his past if he had absolutely nothing to do in his cell; no mental stimulation, nothing to concentrate on? The very air was woven with hopelessness and absolute boredom. Mindful of that, apart from the food that was delicious, rather than bland (like that gruel Tomas’ body had immediately rejected), Tundra took a couple of books with him the next day, something that he himself found interesting. Books that would be interesting for children weren’t easy to find in the temple. There were mostly materials that were supposed to be studied, rather than anything that could be entertaining, but he knew where to look. Just recently, he found one about insects, with plenty of detailed pictures. He spent a good half of the day in the dungeon after his training, and even brought his dinner with him to eat together with Tomas. The grey-eyed boy didn’t eat everything, but things were still obviously better than before. After eating, they studied the book together, particularly the colourful pictures that contrasted so strongly with these walls, to the point that they could almost pretend that they were in a much better place than this.
Kuai Liang decided that he had to find more books like that, particularly about nature.
“Don’t you ever get cold?” Tomas asked one day, something that Tundra knew he had wanted to ask for a while, especially after Kuai Liang had dozed off after the two of them had had a dinner and Tundra woken up not shivering from cold like Tomas himself often did, now almost always having the blanket draped over him, which had made a huge difference.
“Cold isn’t unpleasant to me or my brother. We aren’t like most people,” Kuai Liang replied.
“What do you mean?”
“Let me show you.” With that, he channelled his innate power that got his hand covered in a thin layer of ice, more like hoarfrost, really, that spread onto his forearm, reaching his elbow. Slowly, he managed to form an unimpressive (in his opinion) piece of ice on his palm. “See? It’s called cryomancy,” he explained to the wide-eyed and speechless boy next to him. “It can be used as a weapon when you fight.” He allowed the ice to slowly melt on the floor and his hand and arm to return to normal. He decided to use the opportunity to speak to Tomas about the pressing matter, because, up until this point, he hadn’t even known how to broach the subject. “Tomas, do you think you, too, can do something unusual?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so,” the other boy shook his head, looking only somewhat unsure about his answer. Tundra had hoped to hear something different, because now he really didn’t know how else he could go about it. If Tomas did have those powers, but didn’t know about them, how was he supposed to use them? With Kuai Liang and his brother there, at least, were signs, even before their special training had begun: for example, cold didn’t affect them like it affected regular people. With Tomas it was hard to tell if there was anything at all that Grandmaster expected him to have.
Kuai Liang had to remind himself yet again that there was an urgency to succeed in his task, and this cell wasn’t really a place of safety where they could just spend time together, eat, talk and play, as they had been doing lately. Tundra felt so comfortable with Tomas, he couldn’t help constantly forgetting about the danger looming over them. He felt himself steadily becoming closer with the other boy, and it felt like something that couldn’t be helped, as if they were normal boys in the world outside. He had seen other boys in the clan becoming close, but it wasn’t exactly encouraged. He supposed it was just… natural to bond with someone. He knew their interactions were important to Tomas as well. He always looked at least a little excited to see Kuai Liang, no longer caring if the other boy was of the Lin Kuei or not. The silver eyes had become less distant, less haunted; his mind was more grounded to the reality, even though he still remembered nothing about his past. He no longer looked as if he was mentally floating away to some other world that was inaccessible to anybody else. He was more focused, instead, and Tundra had been taught that focus was important when you used your abilities.
In addition, although somebody visited Tomas to keep him clean and bring him changes of clothes, there were no new bruises, split lips, bleeding nose, abrasions or any other damage Tundra could see on him, and the old ones were healing well. It meant that nobody attempted to get the results with fear and pain anymore, and everything had been completely left in Kuai Liang's hands. It was as serious as that.
Thinking about all of that, he was looking at the other boy. He swallowed hard, remembering Grandmaster’s warning (well, a threat) of what would happen to this boy if Tundra failed. How could he deal with such a responsibility?
“What? Why are you looking at me like this?” Tomas smiled a little nervously, raising his eyebrows (or he would have, if he actually had them).
“It’s nothing. I was just thinking. Nothing important,” Kuai Liang lied.
What could he do? Pressuring the other boy into revealing the powers that, chances were, he didn’t even possess wasn’t even an option in his mind, because he had seen others doing it, and all it had achieved was making Tomas scared and withdrawn. Tundra was usually good at finding solutions, he was imaginative, at least according to some adults, but, this time, he had no idea what to do.
The day he had been dreading, eventually, came, and he still found it terrifyingly unexpected, for some reason. He was about to leave Tomas’ cell after their time together when the door opened. There were several Lin Kuei men outside, two of whom entered the cell. His heart skipped a beat.
“Time is up. You’ve been wasting everybody’s time long enough,” one of the men said sternly. “If you forgot why you were allowed to be here in the first place, somebody needs to remind you.” He grabbed Tundra by his clothes and started dragging him out of the cell. Kuai Liang couldn’t help trying to resist, his heart racing.
“What do you mean?! Tundra, what does it mean?!” Tomas exclaimed, looking scared out of his mind. Kuai Liang started to struggle with all his might. If it was just about his punishment, he would’ve accepted it with honour and moved on. But he knew Grandmaster hadn’t been joking about having Tomas tortured and killed. They had been living on borrowed time, and now it was over. How was he supposed to live with himself after this? Would he be able to convince himself that he had done everything he could and just turn the page, once Tomas’ short life was extinguished?
“It means he failed to do his job, because of you, and now, he’s going to get his well-deserved punishment for becoming close with you,” the man who had to put some effort into keeping Tundra in his grasp heartlessly replied, glaring at the little prisoner, who now looked almost impossibly pale.
“No! Let him go!” he screamed. “Leave him alone!” He tried to follow and reach out to Kuai Liang to prevent him from being taken away, but was effortlessly pushed back by another man in the cell. Tundra was successfully dragged into the corridor, even though he wasn’t making it easy, despite his young age. He was still facing the cell and wanted to throw one last look at Tomas, holding back tears of helpless anger and frustration that threatened to escape. He decided that he would grow up bigger than them, stronger than all of them, stronger than Bi-Han; nobody would dare to even try to manhandle him like this.
But Tomas would be long gone by then...
The next moment, all of a sudden, all Kuai Liang saw was smoke; dark, heavy and thick. Surprised, he felt as if he couldn’t move from the shock. The adult who had been holding his shoulders in a vice-like grip let go of him and, while Tundra couldn’t see him because of the smoke, he could hear the man choking and coughing desperately. He heard other people doing the same now, but Kuai Liang himself only felt some irritation to his eyes and nostrils, which was, more or less, tolerable, because it felt as if the dark cloud was, somehow, avoiding him. Confused and in disbelief, he couldn’t even imagine what was happening. Was the clan under attack? He knew about the smoke bombs that members of their clan sometimes made and used to cover their tracks or disorient their enemies (Tundra himself had not yet been taught to use them). But then, shouldn’t he also be affected? And Tomas! What about him?!
“Tomas, where are you?!” he called out, worried, and coughed a little, because there wasn’t enough of clear oxygen around him. “Tomas!” He had no choice but close his eyes and put his hands in front of himself, entering the cloud and trying to find the other boy, moving in the direction where he had last seen him. They had to run to safety. He was holding his breath, not letting panic overcome him, because it was important to be calm right now. And then his hands touched something… something that, unexplainably, wasn’t entirely solid at first, but was rapidly becoming solid. A thin body, warm skin, clothes. Tomas. The boy then pressed himself against Tundra weakly, before everything, this entire madness, was starting to go away, only leaving the two boys holding onto each other. Kuai Liang sat down on the floor with Tomas, whose arms he was still holding and who was now leaning against him, looking exhausted. Tundra’s eyes still stung and the air still wasn’t clean enough, but the smoke and vapour were rapidly clearing away; enough for Kuai Liang to be able to see the man who had dragged him out of the cell on the floor, unconscious (or maybe even dead), and the rest of the adults either sitting on the floor, coughing, or trying to remain upright and struggling to restore their breath and wiping their eyes that were watering up non-stop as they kept blinking the moisture away. Some of them had a layer of soot on their necks and lower halves of their faces, and there was some soot on their clothes as well.
The soot. Just like on those people the confused-sounding Tomas had told him about. It had been him. This was the power Grandmaster had wanted him to reveal.
“Tundra… Are you hurt?” the boy almost whispered, as if too weakened now to even use his voice. Only now Kuai Liang noticed that they were both shaking slightly from the adrenaline coursing through them.
“I’m okay. You?”
“I’m just tired.”
Kuai Liang heard other people hastily approaching and felt Tomas becoming tense in his arms.
“It’s alright. I don’t think they are going to try anything now,” he said, hoping it was true. Tomas had revealed his powers. Was that not what had been expected of him? Was he safe now? Was he valuable enough now not to be disposed of?
He had heard adults talking to each other quietly. The newcomers were talking to those witnesses that were less affected by what had happened. The very first of the newly arrived men who approached and reached out in an attempt to move Tundra away from the other boy got an instant frostbite from the cryomancer grabbing his wrist with a speed of an attacking snake, which must have felt like a burn. Kuai Liang's abilities may not be developed enough just yet, but there were still things that came naturally to him. The man hissed in pain and stepped away, cradling his forearm and shaking his hand. Another one stepped closer, but didn’t make the same mistake and kept his hands to himself. He promised that no harm would come to either of the boys and that Grandmaster simply wanted to talk to Tomas. He also promised that Tomas’ confinement would be over after that. His tone was calm and not at all condescending, as if he was talking to his equals, which was nice to hear for once. Kuai Liang noticed the other boy looking at him now, as if asking what he should do. He wasn’t sure how to respond, but decided that it was best to get this over with. He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake by nodding in assurance. That appeared to be all that Tomas needed.
Kuai Liang helped him on his feet. The grey-eyed boy really looked as if using his abilities had drained him. They moved past the other people in the wide corridor outside the cell, following the man who had just spoken to them. The man on the floor who had been most affected by the smoke was still clinging to life, now being tended to by two other members of the clan. Among the newly arrived adults, Tundra recognised the woman whom he had seen force-feeding and hitting Tomas. He couldn’t help wishing that she had been there earlier. After all, she was at least one of those who had tormented Tomas, treated him awfully to provoke him and to achieve what had just happened. It would’ve been fair if she got the taste of that smoke filling her lungs, too.
Grandmaster was pleased beyond words when the Czech boy was brought before his throne. Tundra had attempted to enter the hall as well, but had been stopped by the guards who then closed the doors. Tomas was obviously exhausted from using his powers. He had almost choked five people to death, according to the report. Grandmaster hadn't seen the recorded video yet, but he was going to, even though it would only show him the inside of the cell, and the smoke would prevent him from seeing everything that had happened in detail.
So, it was true, after all.
“I’ve never seen the likes of you before. Your remarkable abilities must be unique. I wasn’t sure my investigator hadn’t made a mistake, claiming that you had those powers.” There was no answer, but the boy was listening, his eyes on the floor. “Your life here didn’t begin on a good note, sadly, but it will get better. It all depends on you. This is your home now, and you will have to train with your peers and, above all, learn to summon your powers at will.” The boy just nodded at that, even though he seemed unsure that he could meet those expectations. Grandmaster ignored his uncertainty. “One more thing: if you attempt to use your abilities to escape the clan, you should keep in mind that nobody has ever escaped and lived to tell the tale. Everybody gets caught, sooner or later. Tundra has put his safety on the line for you by fraternising with you and helping you. You should think how it can affect him if you try to run away. This is your life now; accept it. You have no other, nowhere else to go. I’m not even sure you’re a human. Whatever you are, there’s no place for people like you in the normal world. But, as one of the Lin Kuei, you can achieve a lot.”
“I understand…” Tomas replied quietly, probably feeling the urge to reply to fill in the pause. Grandmaster knew he didn’t understand. Not yet. Everybody needed time to adjust. Tomas Vrbada, the ten years old boy from Prague, torn away from his very normal and very loving family to be immolated by deranged fanatics, only to rise up again, almost like Phoenix (but not quite), was no exception.
“You may go.”
Tomas was very tired, indeed, his adrenaline no longer supporting him at all, but his eyes were trying to take everything in once they were outside, not accompanied by guards or any other adults anymore. Kuai Liang knew the new boy would have to live with the majority of the trainees. Some of them were going to be helpful and sympathetic, others… not so much. Tundra didn’t feel like letting him go there just yet. He decided that tonight Tomas was going to sleep in his quarters. He would, no doubt, get an earful from his brother for it (and for everything else that had happened as well), but he was okay with it.
Suddenly, he realised that Tomas was no longer following him. He turned around, only to find the other boy looking at him pensively and not moving.
“What? Why did you stop?”
“I want to ask you something,” Tomas replied. He looked very serious. And guarded.
“Okay,” the young cryomancer encouraged, baffled.
“Tundra, did you befriend me, just because you were told to? Because, if you did, you don’t have to pretend anymore.”
“No! It’s not like that. I was secretly sneaking to your cell, remember? I was discovered, and Grandmaster allowed me to visit, but I had to make you give him what he wanted. But I didn’t even know how. I never even really tried to make you do anything, did I?” he answered honestly, but decided not to mention the very real possibility of Tomas getting tortured and murdered in case of failure. He thought it would be a wrong thing to reveal, not only because he didn’t want to upset the other boy even more, but he also didn’t want to make himself look as if he was some kind of a hero, bragging about his noble intentions. Tomas already knew Kuai Liang would’ve been punished for failing, so he could draw his own conclusions from it all. “I promise I wasn’t spending time with you because of that,” Tundra finished. Tomas was looking into his eyes, not at all glaring, but rather searching for something.
“I believe you,” he, finally, replied, after finding whatever he had been looking for and appearing slightly relieved. Kuai Liang felt relieved, too.