• Memory • Imprisoned

[Edalene]

4 Zida, 708

The afternoon sun was waning, bringing the swiftness of night. The cold was coming, and with it, the sun sunk quicker every day. Eda walked quietly from the schoolhouse at the end of the day, dragging her feet. Where she was going, she would not see the sun again until tomorrow. An eternity of darkness.

Detention.

The monk had been wrong. Wrong! School was supposed to be about learning, and all Eda had done was engage actively in that. It was supposed to be a discussion. Children were supposed to be interested. How, Eda thought, could someone be interested in something that was just plain wrong? Aeodan had gotten to go home right after the last break, shaking his head fondly at her, while she grabbed her bag and stomped off moodily to detention.

Detention!

She had never been to detention in her life. And honestly, why should she be sent here? All she had done was challenge the monk on whether or not Rylinsm could be thought a religion... But she'd genuinely been asking a question! Well, she had asked the question without being called on... and maybe she sounded a little too sure of herself than a student should when questioning her teacher... but it's not like she had punched someone.

Though, honestly, she felt like doing just that right now.

Her heart sinking lower as her feet dragged, she approached the detention room. A small dingy room behind the school house, she swallowed her dread as she stepped into her prison for the next few breaks. Her eyes adjusted to the dim lit room. Rows of desks, mostly unfilled, with some she recognised from the school - mostly older, mostly boys. Sniffing, she turned her head away, and went to the monk who stood by the desk at the front of the room.

"Edalene Burnett," she muttered, as quickly and hastily as she could, before flouncing off to find a desk in a corner. Dropping her bag to the floor, she collapsed onto her arms on the desk, groaning quietly to herself. How had she ended up here?

Detention?!

[Andráska Venora]

4th of Zi'da, 708

Andráska was perched on a stone wall in the school courtyard, a book balanced in his lap and an apple in his hand. The primer shifted in his lap, and he reread over the pronunciation guide, his mouth silently forming the sounds of Rakahi, ”Kaaaa.... Draaa” He flexed his tongue, sticking it out of his mouth and clicked his lips once or twice to loosen up his mouth. He felt silly, and flipped the page, looking over the common words he was trying to learn, and tapped the pen against the page, reading them over and over.

Ocean. Water. To Swim. Hello. Fish. Wet. To Want. You. Me. I.

“Hello. I want... water. I like...” he looked back to the list of words, mind blanking, “to swim.” The sentences were simple, but he tried, brows furrowing as he poured over the language book and he jotted down a few notes, unaware of the three figures approaching. He took a bite of the apple, chewing as he experimented with different memory techniques.

He was silently reading the words and muttering them under his breath when a hand slapped away the text in his hand and his papers were scattered. His pen shot out from his hand and disappeared into a bush behind him, and his eyes shot upwards.

“You dropped something, Venora.”

A freckled faced bastard peered up with hatred at the noble, and the the other two stepped forward, “Your ma' ever tell you Andráska's a girl's name?”

One of the other two chimed in, “Maybe his pecker was so small when he was born, they thought he was one!”

Instant anger began to flare in the youth, and the Venora noble looked the bully straight in the face, “That's funny,” There was no humor to be found on his face, “Almost as funny as me going to your house to propose to your mother.” He didn't wait for the other boy to comprehend his words, spurred by the irritation, “If you're any consolation, I'm sure she's ugly as sin. But she'll accept, because I'm a noble and the best chance she's got to forget how pathetic her life is since she birthed you. And if you're really curious about the size of my manhood, you can ask her. She'll be seeing a lot of it.”

It was a backhanded comment, with bigger words than the bastard was probably familiar with, but the mouths of his compatriots dropped, and he watched in slow motion, how the cruel smile slipped into fury. He charged at Andráska and rammed into the noble's stomach, Andras dropped his apple, gripping at the other boy in hormone induced rage. He threw punches into the boy's side and back, awkwardly as he was still perched upon the wall. The other two grabbed at his arms, shoving him backwards and he lost his balance and fell backwards, bracing for the pain.

He landed atop some bushes, the sticks digging into his back and neck, scratching and drawing blood. He was breathing heavy, and he tried to pull himself from the foliage, but each movement dug more wood into his body. Before he could fully detangle himself, hands were enclosing around his ankles and he was being yanked harshly in the snow.

Punches rained from above, and he covered his face, a punch socking him right in the eye. He grunted, attempted to kick upwards at his group of attackers, but he was outnumbered and at a disadvantage. He put as much force as he could into his legs, pushing it through his muscles and launched it into the instigators stomach. The boy doubled over, and the other two stopped their assault suddenly.

“Shit! A monk's coming. C'mon! He's coming!” They glanced at the freckled boy, who was still clutching his stomach, desperately trying to suck in breaths, and he tried to stumble away, but Andras growled and jumped from the ground, using the boy's weakened state to tackle him to the ground and like a wild animal, fell into a sequence of violent urges.

Punch after punch flew into the bully, the snow around them a disastrous mess. Blood poured from the boy's face when his eyebrow was split, and each hit sent a vibration up Andráska's arm, stealing his strength. The bully's friends must have weighed the odds because they ran off, leaving the two, making it very easy for the monks to snatch Andráska up by the collar of his coat and drag him away.

He was in trouble.
Andráska was almost late to his punishment. He had to explain to his exasperated servant, who had a pair of horses ready to take them home after classes why he couldn't go. The man took quite a bit of convincing, as he was sure Andráska was lying to sneak off with a girl or the like. After all, he was around that age. Either way, the servant finally conceded, and Andráska went to the room he was quite familiar with.

When he pushed open the door, he had his head held high, not from a lack of shame (although he didn't regret standing up for himself), but because it was how he had always been taught. Nobles looked proud, regal, and never shied away. An interesting sight to see a tall and lanky boy with wild hair and a black eye, with blood still on his warm coat, walk calmly into the room. His voice was deeper than some, but still unsure of itself when he spoke, “Andráska Venora.”

Green eyes scanned the room, most delinquents already settled in. He spotted the boy he had fought earlier, sitting in the back corner of one side of the room, glaring at him. The boy had a fat lip and a busted brow that was covered in a white bandage. There was a open seat next to him, and it looked about as appealing as hugging a giant spider.

Andraska moved past that prospect, seeing a little girl that seemed so out of place. She looked terrified, or anxious. He moved towards her, and chose the seat on the right side of her, “Seat taken?” he asked, sliding in it. His book bag was slung on the desk and he leaned back, an exhausted sigh rising from his lips. He stared at the ceiling, before he watched the girl through half lidded eyes, and whispered “So...What are you guilty of?”

[Edalene]

Edalene stared at the table before her, staring at the swirls and cracks in the wood. Ink quills had scratched into the wood, leaving hatches and strange marks, and rather a lot of graffiti. AB+HS was scrawled into the table, as was Gregory Hayle is a faggot. Edalene blushed at the words, and looked away.

Aeodan would be so disappointed in her when she returned home. Gods.

She looked up at a new voice, her eyes widening when she saw a young boy standing above her, gesturing to the seat beside her. She blushed, and shook her head mutely. He was tall and fair, with dark shaggy hair and dark expressive eyes. That, though, was nothing compared to the dark swelling around his eye, and the blood splattered on his expensive looking clothes. With wide eyes, she determined to stare down at the table, not acknowledging him as he slid into the table beside her with a sigh.

But Edalene was never very good at staying silent. "Guilty?" she repeated, incredulously, looking up at the boy with darkening eyes. "Nothing! I didn't do anything! Just because Monk Ilandis is--" She noticed her voice was rising in anger. Edalene took a breath, before continuing in a hushed tone. "He was wrong. He was teaching the wrong facts! I said something and he didn't like it. So I ended up here." She kicked the table leg, moodily pouting to herself, before looking back at the boy with a challenge in her eyes. Daring him to laugh at the precocious young girl.

[Andráska Venora]

4th of Zi'da, 708

“Hey, take it easy,” The girl's reaction was a bit amusing to be honest – watching someone so young get worked up so fast. Whatever injustice brought her here, she was quick to throw a monk under the horse, so when Andráska smiled, he felt his sore face strain from the effort, “It was just a question. Whatever you say.”

He watched her pout for a moment, finding her much more interesting than his nemesis glaring at him from across the room. He blatantly ignored the other boy, resting his chin in the palm of his hand and leaning forward conspiratorially, “Can you guess what I did?”

Andráska knew it must be fairly obvious. He looked more worse for wear, but in his opinion, not as bad as his opponent. His back hurt like sin and he could still feel the scratches every time his shirt shifted, but he looked at her all the same, “My ma's gonna be pissed.” he tried not to think of his father's reaction, and even the briefest of recollection sent an uncomfortable pit to settle in his stomach. A fight at school meant bad publicity for House Venora. No doubt some gossiper would claim that a future duke without control of his children didn't have the right to hold a duchy.

Just then one of the monks in charge of their imprisonment walked over and dropped a textbook and a bunch of rustled papers onto his desk, “You left these in the yard,” he said with an unhappy expression, “Perhaps the next time you get in a fight, you'll clean up your messes as well?”

“Yessir.”

A normally peaceful presence, it was obvious the monk was annoyed with the idea of babysitting when he should have been at the temple, and Andras' looked at the work before him. His Rakahi notes. As the older man walked away, he shuffled through the papers to see what he had lost in the scuffle, but for the most part, most of his work was there. He found a page where he had written a list of words and a few simple sentences. Curious, he looked to the girl once more and in slow Rakahi, asked, “What's your name?” He repeated the question in common with a boyish smile and nodded towards the door. Lowering his voice to a soft whisper and looking ahead to seem less obvious, he asked quite casually, “Do you want to play hooky?”

[Edalene]

The boy smiled, obviously trying to distract her from her angst, and Edalene could not help but wince at the obvious pain that the boy felt in moving his lips. Even through her frustration, which seemed all encompassing, Eda felt a little bit of sympathy for the boy. Not overmuch - it was stupid to get in fights - but then again, perhaps he had had a reason to get so hurt, and - her eyes flickered to the other scowling boy, his face injured too - perhaps he had not been the one to start it.

Still, for all the sympathy in Idalos, Eda couldn't help a most unladylike snort at the boy's stupid question. "I don't need to guess," she said, nodding her head toward the scowling boy, whose own eye was black and blue, and his lip busted. "He was complaining about a fight before you came in." She shrugged, sniffing, and didn't consider what she was saying rude. After all, she was just telling the truth. "Fighting is stupid," Eda said, matter of factly. "I don't know why boys keep doing it. Not like it gets anything done. You just end up here." Of course, challenging a monk in class had ended Eda up here, but at least that was in the pursuit and protection of knowledge. Fighting was just something dumb boys did.

Eda looked to the table, and worried her lip when the monk came over, determined to look as though she was being silent and reflective. She kept her eyes down, and waited, before suddenly, in slow accented Rakahi, he asked her a question. She ignored the repeated question in Common - did he think she learnt nothing? - and replied in Rakahi herself. "Edalene. What about you?" Her own accent was slow and plodding, and the words sounded strange, but she shot him a look that dared him to make fun of her.

A gasp, though, at his suggestion. Hooky? Eda looked anxiously to the monk, and then back to the boy. Eda had never in her life skipped a class, but this ... this was not class, and there were many better things to do. Like literally anything other than detention. She had never done anything that dangerous but... she was desperate to leave... "How would we even get out? He's right there," she answered back in a low voice, still looking down at the table, desperate to leave.

[Andráska Venora]

4th of Zi'da, 708

“Fighting isn't stupid,” the noble muttered, perhaps a bit more defensively than he intended. But honestly, what did this girl know? Never one to immediately jump to the idea that commoners were somehow less intelligent than noble born, it was hard to keep the prejudices his family taught at bay. He knew she was coming from a good place, but she didn't know what she was talking about. When someone was wailing on you with heavy-handed fists, when you were attacked and hated for doing nothing – simply existing, didn't you have a right to defend yourself or others? From the way she talked, he doubted she had been in many fights in her life and he eyed her skinny arms for any bruises or signs of scuffle. He found none, “Not when you have something worth fighting for.”

He also found her assumption that only boys fought to be... wrong. He had seen plenty of women in the Iron Hand; so it wasn't just a “dumb boy thing”. He had opted for leaning on his desk, propped up by an elbow with thoughtful eyes when her Rakahi pulled him from his mind. He smiled then, each syllable rolling off his tongue, “Andráska.”

The girl, with her know it all attitude, sure got awfully nervous at the sight of authority. She'd no doubt cower if his father was in the room. Now that was an intimidating man, as beautiful as he was deadly. Andras said nothing, but flashed a wink, grinning like a cat with a canary, when he calmly raised a hand.

It didn't take long for the monk, along with everyone else in the room to slowly level on him. The older man had returned to his desk and set down his quill, staring at the boy, lips pressed together in a thin line. He didn't want to acknowledge the whims of such a willful child, but eventually he sighed. Andráska had been returning his look with one of his own, grinning all the same, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

“No,” the monk said, reaching out to resume whatever it is he had been doing. Utter dismissal.

Green eyes flashed with challenge, “That is...” If he wanted to achieve his plan he needed to sound like he had semblance of control. Not as a child, but as someone who could impact him. He used a word one of his tutors had before, hoping it made him sound older, “Quite unfortunate. Why not?”

The monk frowned, his patience being tested, “Because you are in detention, Andráska. If you wished to move about freely, perhaps you should have thought about that before you got in trouble.”

The audience looked between the monk and the pre-teen, Andras expecting this to happen. Without missing a beat, the noble slipped into the role of someone much older, the kind of person who would one day rule land; a title. Just like his etiquette instructor said – back straight, chin up, Andras collected his books and glided between the row of desks to where the monk sat, hoping his little act would intimidate the man. He set his stuff down on the instructor's table, claiming it, and lowered his voice, “Listen, I... understand, you're just doing your job. But I need you to understand that the fight I was in today, wasn't something I sought out.”

His mind practically blurted: That freckled-faced bastard's just a prick'. He had to clear his throat to keep from saying it, and continued his spiel before the monk could interject. Something about whispering always seemed unsettling, “But here's the thing... I need to use the restroom and daddy dearest is already going to be in quite the fit when he finds out I didn't come home on time today. So, imagine his seething rage when he finds out his son pissed himself because he was denied such a basic request.”

Oh, how he hated using the family card! It was true his father would be angry if, at his age, something like that happened, but truthfully, he was going to get beaten black and blue when he got home, just for embarrassing him. But no one knew how Kaleb Venora really was... no one understood that he was quicker to condemn his children then save them.

The monk grit his teeth, not liking being talked to in such a way, and Andraska softened his eyes, “If it helps, I can take someone to escort me. How about... her?” he glanced over his shoulder and pointed to Edalene, “I just really, really need to go... Please?”

After what felt like an eternity, the monk relinquished begrudgingly, seeing how this was Edalene's first offense, he hoped he was making the right decision, “You have. Five. Bits.” He held up a hand, fingers splayed, and pointed sharply towards the door, and then louder so that his escort could hear, “Edalene, escort Andraska and make sure he returns swiftly.”

And just like that, they were free.

[Edalene]

Edalene rolled her eyes at Andraska's defensive tone. Of course he was defending fighting. He'd been in one after all. "Soldiers have reasons to fight," she said, again her tone infused with precociousness. "What do school boys have?" It seemed rude, but honestly she was not trying to cruelly doubt the boy. More just that she did not understand why anyone would fight, especially in a school yard. Words, arguments, wit - all of these were better weapons than fists. But she looked with sympathy to Andraska. After all, he had to be in pain.

"But," she said slowly, "I suppose standing up to bullies is a fairly decent reason to fight." Edalene knew the boy who Andraska had fought - she'd nearly been tempted to punch him herself when he made fun of Aeodan's unstable legs and girlish looks. Anger rose in her as she thought about it, and suddenly, she understood Andraska a bit better. She sent him a tentative smile, as if to apologise - for she was far too stubborn to actually speak the words.

"What are you doing?" she hissed as Andraska raised his hand. Don't bring him over here! Edalene ducked her head, almost scared to see what would happen. She had gotten in here for arguing with a monk - she couldn't do it again! But he came over anyway, to see what Andraska wanted. Edalene stared at the table so hard she imagined a fire starting from the friction, careful not to get involved.

She nibbled at her lower lip, surprisingly disappointed when the monk said no. She didn't want to raise trouble, but for a moment it seemed as if Andraska could have pulled it off. But then his tone changed, and Edalene finally looked up,
her mouth agape at Andraska's brazen taunt. Daddy dearest? The rest of the room was watching with interest, and Edalene struggled to hold in a grin as the monk struggled, but quickly schooled her expression into one of pure innocence when Andraska pointed at her. The monk looked at her, considering, but Eda and her brother were known as somewhat of teacher's pets. Of course they would trust her.

"Yes sir," she said, nodding, grabbing her things and hurrying towards the door with Andraska. And then - the door opened. The sun was out. Laughing, Edalene ran out into the courtyard, her hands spread out. She giggled in the sun before turning to Andraska. "You did it!" she cheered, running over to the older boy and hugging him, her cheeks aflush with happiness. "I can't believe it worked!"

She let go, grinning up at him with pure childlike innocence. "What do you want to do? After all we only have five bits, that's all he let us have. Maybe just sit in the sun before we have to go back?" Of course it didn't cross her mind that they would just leave, teacher's pet as she was.

[Andráska Venora]

4th of Zi'da, 708

They were free!

His deception had worked and he grinned as the duo bound down the hallway and he lead them to the courtyard where they basked in the glow of the sun. What a relief. Already he felt as though a burden had been lifted, no longer being charged for something as meaningless as defending himself. Now he just wanted to run, and enjoy the day.

Just as he was about to suggest they play a game or go exploring, Edalene turned and inquired about what they were to do in five bits. Immediately, he grinned and laughed, “Five bits,” he said, making sure he had heard her correctly, “I'm not going back.” Was she truly so innocent? He reassessed her age. Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea for her to be spending time with him. It was their first-day meeting and already he was corrupting her, “Enjoy your freedom! Besides, I don't think he's really expecting me back anyway.” Did any adult really think he would keep his word when it came to these types of things?

He could be a good kid... but even he had his limits. Stuffy classrooms with his schoolyard enemies and old monks that smelled like brittle books and musky robes, Andráska just couldn't thrive in that sort of environment. What child could? “Let's take a walk.”

Or at least he was hoping she would, but before they could so much as take a step, the servant that had been waiting outside for him finally materialized. Not far off, alongside the road was his carriage and a horse, “Lord Venora,” the servant greeted, pleased to see his time was up. He opened his mouth to speak, but noticed the little girl beside him, “And this is?”

Andráska glanced at Edalene, wondering if she would offer her name, “She's a girl from class.” Not a complete lie, but the servant seemed to understand. Unless she was a prodigy, it was unlikely she was in a class with older students.

“Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, miss,” the servant greeted, motioning to the noble, “But I must be the bad guy and take the young master home. He has expected some time ago, you see.”

That meant some luncheon where he'd have to wear a vest and his mother would lecture him endlessly about his new appearance. At least until his father came home...

“Sorry, Eda,” he muttered, disappointed he wouldn't be able to enjoy the weather. He shuffled his books under his arm and couldn't help the embarrassment that lightly kissed his cheeks. Andráska never felt like he belonged in noble life and it made him feel exposed when commoners found out in this sort of way. “I have to go now...” He tried to smile as the servant reached to hold his belongings instead, “Enjoy your freedom for me, okay?”

And just like that, Andraska Venora dragged back to the only life he had ever known, and the one punishment he could never escape.

[Nymph]

REWARDS

ANDRASKA

• Knowledge:
  • Linguistics: Rakahi Vocabulary
  • Linguistics: Knowing Another Language Keeps Conversation a Secret
  • Intimidation: "Your Mom" Jokes
  • Intimidation: Pulling Rank
  • Language: Rakahi
  • Unarmed Combat: The Brutality of Children
  • Etiquette: Always Playing the Part of Noble
  • Tactics: Using a Plausible Lie
  • Deception: The "I Have to Pee" Line
  Loot: None
  Injuries:
  • You are lucky this is a memory. I bet that punch to the face hurt. You'll have a black eye for 5-10 days. Doubt we'll ever see this time period again, so lucky you that it didn't ruin that pretty face.
  • Tactics: Something Worth Fighting For
  Fame: -1 (because someone probably remembers you beat up a kid in grade school)
  
  Story: 5/5
  Collaboration: 5/5
  Structure: 5/5

- - - - - - -

EDALENE

• Knowledge:
  • Religion: Just Don't Ask Question
  • Location: Detention!
  • Intelligence: Education is About Questioning the Man
  • Intelligence: Assessing the Aftermath
  • Linguistics: Knowing Another Language Keeps Conversation a Secret
  • Persuasion: Sticking to Your Story
  • Tactics: Something Worth Fighting For
  • Tactics: Using a Plausible Lie
  Loot: None
  Injuries: None
  Fame: None
  
  Story: 5/5
  Collaboration: 5/5
  Structure: 5/5

- - - - - - -

Comments: A little abrupt on the ending, but I can see it happening to a noble boy like Andraska. With a believable ending, no points were docks. I would have liked to see what trouble the two could have gotten into, if Edalene could have been corrupted further by Lord Venora. Well done guys. It was entertaining to read.

If you feel I've missed anything or if you have questions about your review, please don't hesitate to send me a quick PM. Thank you!