The Jackals of Il Essan

Terms:

Il Essan - A province of the kingdom of Eruval, towards the South and West. Its capital is Caerlon.

va'aja - In Eruval, these are males born without the divine Flame, without which they can never be considered men (va'ahu). They make up a small percentage of males born and are no longer exposed at birth like in ancient times, but cannot marry women (va'alis) or sire children and are forbidden from many schools and positions. As they do not fit into the rigid gender segregations that separate Eruvian men and women until marriage, they occupy a low and tenuous place in society but are often taken as catamites or sexual partners by men.

anja – What a child calls a va’aja parent. Parallels addu (Father) and amma (Mother).


Author’s Note: I haven’t written anything in a long, long time and this is unbeta-ed, so I apologize in advance if the quality’s amusing in a bad way. I’m writing this for fun (and practice before some more serious pieces), so I’ll be making things up as I go along. Year One will not be graphic but there may be some rapey and underage situations.

Reviews, critiques, cookies etc are much appreciated!


Chapter One


If only 101 Fun Pranks for Boys actually bothered to explain how the spell was supposed to work rather than just list the words (in ghastly Simplespeak, no less) beside a glossy picture of some irritated, drenched, and gleefully vanquished schoolteacher. Or if only his brother bothered to remember that he was fourteen - fourteen, when some va'aja were marrying! - and long past the pretty pictures stage. He loved Jussi, but his brother seemed determined to deny that his baby brother was growing up.

"Hu' val' ahhim...no, ach'him ra' o - ao? No, that's not it," he muttered, glowering at the open book cradled on his arm. It didn't even transcribe the wand movements, much less offer a clue towards the noumenal. And without the Thought and the Will, he'd never elevate this from a simple exercise in bucket-tipping for naughty ten-year-olds.

The pudgy zu-bird cast a smug glance at him from its perch.

"Oh just come down, will you," he sighed. "Look - tell you what, I've got candied chestnuts on me -" Rooting around in the pouch clipped to his belt, he finally held up something round and glistening and golden on his palm. "They're delicious. From Odessa, you won't find them anywhere north of the deserts for another -"

The bird was down on his arm already. He stared. That wasn't in any of his textbooks. Who knew the rare (and rather precious) zu-birds were so easily lured by sweets?

"Sorry, but it'll -" ...careful... "- cost you -" ...careful... "a feather -!" And with a quick flick of the wrist he'd snatched an azure-tipped tailfeather. Into his sleeve it went. Success.

The zu-bird slowly turned its head around. (Suen winced - its claws were, come to think of it, rather sharp and rather intimate with his arm.)

And stared pointedly at his pouch.

"Oh. Alright, have another." He rummaged around in the pouch with his other arm, pondering whether the game wardens of Il'Essan ought to start getting worried about the obesity of their magical fowl.

"Suen? Suen!"

The voice made him turn around sharply; startled, the zu-bird took off with an indignant squawk.

His young anja was standing beside a cluster of green bracken a few hundred paces away and waving to him, beckoning. With only a half-day's worth of journeying left, Nanay had apparently changed out of his functional shawls and robes into a new silk damuzi. It looked stunning on him. Perfectly fitted down to the ankles and elaborately tied with a bright cream scarf, the cerulean wrap danced with Nereid patterns that Suen knew would reflect his eyes. His father, austere as he seemed, had good taste.

That went for Nanay as well. Even as a child Suen thought he was the most beautiful va'aja he'd ever seen, with his soft eyes illumined in sea hues and his hair the luster of deep auburn like the dryads of the old greenwood. Granted, he'd only ever seen a few va'aja. And some were head-turning, like the Margrave's Southland catamite. But even he could only capture a gaze, never hold it and in its presence grow sweeter, like an aria, the way his anja did.

Luckily Suen had made his way through the trees before he could gape at him any longer. As nice as he was, Nanay must think his stepson a very strange child.

"Were you playing with the bird? I'd no idea the animals here were so friendly," his anja teased as he approached.

"Er, actually - I was getting one of its feathers. They're used in a few of the stronger healing spells I saw earlier in our library, but the birds are really hard to find except in these forests."

"Healing spells? From there?" Nanay looked curiously at the spellbook still clutched to his chest.

"Oh - oh, no." Flushed, Suen tipped open 101 Prank Spells and flipped hastily through its pages. "These are actually really elementary spells, I was just trying to adapt one of them to catch the thing. Basically, shifting all its weight to one side - it's like a reversal of levitation, but you have to be really, really careful with a living creature..."

Nanay beamed. "That's so clever." With a pat to Suen's unfortunately tousled hair. "Silvanus will be happy to hear it. But be careful out here, they said that there was bad magic near these parts. Nek - nek'ero -"

"Necromancers." Suen couldn't help a shudder. "They're the undead, they work with horrible dark magic. Don't worry though, it's just rumours. Father said it was probably started by poachers to drive people away. He wouldn't let us go through here if it there was anything dangerous."

At the mention of Suen's father, Nanay smiled and took his hand. "Yes, I'm sure he wouldn't. But let's go back to break fast, while the oatmeal's still hot and the hot cakes still haven’t been burned."


***


They'd tarried on the cooking, so the two of them were back just in time. The water had just gone to boil and the first golden cakes were being dished out as guardsmen and escorts in various states of sleepiness milled around the campsite. Some of them paused to stare open-mouthed at the beautiful va'aja holding his hand as they came into view. That was a common reaction even after several weeks but the sight of men gazing so intently at them made Suen uncomfortable and he pressed his face against his anja's damuzi. Nanay picked out a fried egg and hot cake for him and he sat on a clothspread warily munching his food while his anja looked for some fresh fruit.

Suen knew his anja was waiting for the menfolk to finish, and secretly wished he wouldn't be so proper. When Nanay first came to their family as his father's new catamite five years ago, he'd insist on helping the chefs with the cooking and the servants with the laying out of the meals, and he'd stand by the side and wait for the rest of the family to finish eating before serving himself. Suen worried it was because he still felt like a stranger in their household; Nanay came from a common background, he’d heard. When they made him eat with them, he'd always take the worst bits, leaving young Suen and his brothers to happily gobble the best cuts of meat and the savory fillings of dumplings and sticky buns and the soft centers of pies in perfect bliss. Now that he realized how only the choicest peaches came to fall into his lap, he'd guiltily finish his crust.

His etiquette master, a perpetually sourfaced va'aja whose usage of Glamour potions in youth was fast catching up to him, told him that that was utterly proper decorum for a va'aja of any social class, and he'd do well to learn quickly or his poor graces would turn away men like a bad smell. (Suen was tempted to respond that his graces had not exactly gotten him married either, but he didn't want to be slapped so he nodded and turn back to the window. Oh freedom.)

Nanay insisted that he himself wasn't clever and had to make an extra effort to please, growing up as a poor student in a music conservatory, while Suen was smart and talented in many things and could find a job and a husband of high standing; so he shouldn't worry about silly things. Suen didn't have the heart to tell him that he really didn't like the healing arts and wanted to quit, but - well, what else was out there for a va'aja? He was already spoiled enough, as a son of Il Essan's Captain of the Guard.

"The bellberries are in season," Nanay's voice broke into his thoughts, as a large handful of the glistening purple berries dropped onto his plate. He was about to thank him when he looked up and froze - their guardsmen's captain, Sergius or something like it, was approaching.

Suen really didn't like him. Of course his father couldn't spare any of the king's men for a family vacation so they had to pay for private escorts, but Suen really, really didn't like him. The way he'd sneer at them when talking, one hand leaning on his sword, the way he'd constantly stick his head in their carriage at odd intervals to inform them of some passing deer or sparrow or other, the way he'd let his gaze stroll insolently over his anja's body, up and down, without the barest hint of shame. Suen was an innocent but it was obvious the thoughts in the guardsman's head were less than decent. Not that the other men were much better. Like other va'aja he very rarely met men from outside his family; perhaps his teachers were right and it was for his own good.

"We'll strike out within the half hour and press quickly through these woods, milord," he drawled, eyes already fixated on Nanay. "Some of my men are - unfortunately - easily spooked by rumours."

"Rumours? You mean - the necromancers?"

The guardsman laughed, throwing his head back and cocking his hands on his hips. "So you've heard. Don't worry your pretty head about it – if it’s not the poachers, it's almost certainly a bandit using illusions to steal from idiots who don't know better. A number of us are more than Skilled enough to handle this lot." His tone of voice made it clear he was one of them.

Nanay smiled gently at him. "I'll entrust our safety in your hands then, sir. My husband must think highly of you and your men to ask for your services."

Suen was glad his anja mentioned Father.

"Ah, it's an honor on our part." His gaze seemed riveted to Nanay's neck, where the damuzi's collar slanted across, revealing a pale expanse of skin and collarbone. Suen scowled as best he could with a mouth full of bellberry. "We'll be at the gates of Caerlon by evening. I trust you've found the journey - pleasant?"

"Oh, it's been lovely. We'd never traveled through Selymbria or the eastern parts of Il Essan before, so we thought it'd be the perfect chance now. The waterfalls and moors were even more beautiful than I'd imagined." His anja turned to him. "Suen's even been collecting souvenirs."

"Jussi wants shells," Suen felt compelled to explain, though it wasn't like the guardsman was paying attention. "He said he'd bring me the next series of Artemis Crow if I found him a talking conch."

"A talking conch!" Nanay laughed. "But what does it talk about?"

"Erm, the one I found sings a little jig, about - uh, sirens," Suen said, blushing. In truth the conch had very imaginatively cursed him, his family, and his dog for nine generations. Even Jussi might learn some new expletives.

"Sirens? They're the ones that look like women but live in the sea?"

"Right, but they're actually evil. They're very stunning in appearance, but if they find a ship, they'll sing to the sailors and lure them in the sea."

"Your brother will be delighted then - songs about beautiful women are his weakness." His anja smiled. "I fear that he's grown rather worse in this regard. Last I saw, your father was pacing up and down the lounge about to murder a letter. The school was saying he'd managed another infraction - for trying to sneak a love letter to some girls."

Jussi had complained about it to him. I'm twenty - twenty, for god's sake - and still can't talk to them! (Suen decided not to point out the irony. If Jussi got the idea a man was courting him, they'd better start looking for lawyers.) "That sounds like him. I hope he's back by now; I don't want to sit through one of Father's moods."

Their conversation was stretching on too long for Sergius-or-something-other. "I've no desire to take my leave, milord, but leave I must. The packing must be overseen and it won't be long now."

Nanay thanked him for his time, and went about cleaning and packing their supplies while Suen dawdled on the side, practicing a scouring spell on a grimy rock. In due time the train of carriages and horses set off through the forest paths. These particular roads were not well travelled, and the jolting on the stones and rough grooves compelled Suen to open the window and stick out his head to quell his poor stomach. He waved goodbye to the rock - even in the gravel it was hard to miss an albino rock. A dove among pigeons.

The forests of Nemu were royal territory, a national reserve for the less dangerous magical species like the zu-bird. Tourists came often. More than a few poachers too, so the wardens were always asking his father for more men, and he'd say there weren't enough to spare, between the war down South and the rebels. Suen had never seen a forest so vibrantly green in his life. Not the deep earthy green of the moss-furred trees on their own land, but a bright green as light and translucent as the Berzobian jade his anja sometimes wore. These trees were formed different too, tall and straight and thin, and the morning sunlight streamed through their tops to dapple the forest floor.

Suen closed his eyes. After weeks by the shore, he was almost surprised not to inhale a brisk ocean breeze that'd course through his lungs and fill his mouth with a vague salt taste. He hadn't been to Aemona since he was a toddler, back when Mother was still alive. He had read about beaches and gray cliffs and the boundless blue seas though - they were a favorite background for the romance novels Eri liked to read - but still stood struck with awe when his feet finally touched sand. Everything was so vast. So ageless. He was so small and human and the whole shoreline that stretched further than he could see was open and bare and washed in one colour alone, either the white of the sand or the blue of the sea and the yawning sky. All this their property, and above it all the house sitting on a lonely crag.

Of course he was excited to be there. To go exploring with Nanay, to swim in the ocean and jump in the waves, to fish on a raft of crude make and toss chunks to the gulls, to read laid out on the sand. He always had plenty of books on him. They were his one constant. They were his one companion, even though Suen tried, but he was so, so awkward and uninteresting and he didn't know how to speak the words to make people like him. Jussi and Fabian did of course but they were men now with their own lives and his anja, though barely older than him in years was a lifetime ahead in wisdom.

The latter was nice to everyone; Suen really wasn't clever. He'd known that for a long time but it still stung even when walking through the cool sand barefoot, windswept, to gaze at the birth of a distant seastorm.

Aemona was beautiful, but it couldn't fill the lack.

We'll start discussing prospects when you return.


***


Suen almost didn't notice that the carriage had stopped. It was his anja whose abrupt movement broke through his thoughts when he opened the window on his own side and called out.

"Gaius? Do you know why we've stopped?"

Gaius was a longtime household servant of no small magical ability, given charge of their safe return. He appeared at the window bearing a slight frown on his face. "We've detected residue from a barrier near here. It appears old but we will check before going any further. It could be illusions - so stay in the carriage by all means."

Nanay turned to look at Suen. "Right. You heard him, don't leave the carriage. If you're bored, I think I can reach the books in the back."

Suen nodded. That sounded interesting - an illusions barrier? He hadn't heard of that before. He knew that you could set traps that triggered illusions once they were stepped upon, but someone of Gaius's talent would be able to detect the change. Illusory bandits weren't very useful anyways, since it wasn't like they could make off with loot. A barrier though - could a whole environment be unreal?

He looked back at the carriage behind them. The real bandits would be targeting that one if they did attack. Nanay had an account at the Royal Bank so they hadn't carried any money beyond pocket change, but his clothes were packed in those trunks - and some of those damuzi were worth well over their weight in gold.

"Maybe we should take some of the - "

He wasn't able to finish because the air suddenly split in pieces: the sharp cracks of spells, curses, cursing. Men. He heard the horses shrieking and the carriage shook and he was flung on top of Nanay, who was gasping wildly.

"S-sorry - I - it's the bandits, I think -"

Nanay looked ill. He hadn't screamed. "We have to stay. The window. I'll close it."

"No. Wait." Suen leaned over him to the window. What looked like smoke obscured the tops of almost everything around them - was something on fire? The hollering was furious and everywhere and he could make out the lower bodies of some of their guardsmen running and the glint of their swords. Where were the attackers? Was this an illusion?

A glimpse of black. Gone.

No - there was more. Shadowy shapes. And something red.

His wand. Where was his wand? Yes it was babyish to be using one at his age but damnit, he wasn't thinking clearly and he needed it, needed anything. Simple repellment charms. Stinging hexes. Right. You know this. He suddenly felt horribly vulnerable and he turned around to the back of the carriage and he opened the trunks and scrambled through them - books, books, herbs, tarots -

"What are you looking for?"

"My wand," he muttered. "I could've sworn I left it here -"

"Your wand? I think I packed it in the other carriage, with the games." Nanay stared at him, bewildered. "What do you need it for?"

"Because I'm useless without it. If they attack us -" Suen swung his head out his own window. They must have ambushed from Nanay's side; the smoke was much lighter here. A few of their men were there, shouting and motioning. The carriage that held his wand looked untouched - so far. The one just behind it, with the guardsmen's supplies, was on fire. In its roof was a gaping hole. "Look. I'll be back in a second."

"What? Gaius told us to stay -"

Suen was already out the door. Not that rationally he thought he could take down a grown man, he had practically no training in combat spells at all, but they'd be even worse off without any magic. Like sitting ducks.

He made it to the carriage fine. A problem - he didn't have the key. Idiot. Panting he glared at the gilded white door and gripping the handle, tried to yank it open. A lockpicking spell would do - this lock wasn't exactly complicated, they hadn't foreseen the need - but he'd have to calm down and think of the incantation. And that was impossible right now, with his heart pounding in his head like an ominous drum.

Force was an utter failure of course. He looked on the ground. Smash the window? The glass was thin and delicate and the frame was wood. Va'aja weren't exactly strong, but if he could find a large rock...

The feather was lying there.

He'd forgotten to take it out of his sleeve and it must have fallen out while he ran. He reached down for it; it could be a long while before he saw a zu-bird again.

A shadow above his head.

Suddenly he felt something incredibly heavy and even hot like a furnace blast push his back and he fell on his face, sprawling on the hard ground. It knocked the wind out of him and he gasped in pain and shock, laying still for what felt like an eternity before trying to push himself on his elbows and turn around.

Don't look, you fool, just run.

But his legs were so, so heavy and he could feel the telltale tingle that was magic under his skin, shuddering in his bones. It was a spell that had hit him. Something powerful. His legs were useless.

If it were a bandit -

He looked up.

No.

The figure was black, all black, and seemed to exhale fog. The fog clouded its shrouded face leaving only the eyes. That were bright red. Blood red.

No.

Not a bandit.

Necromancers.


***


He remembered a scream. And then, a dreamless sleep.


***