(THOB) Chapter 62: Canopus (Patreon)

The months that followed had Ezril and the brothers of the seminary supervised but not taught. The priests stayed their hands, keeping their reactions to any mistakes made to a frown or a twitch of the jaw. Father Talod watched them as they sparred with each other, teaching themselves and developing an understanding of each other’s weaknesses.

Darvi was looked to for corrections on the way of the sword, and he proved a patient teacher at best. He taught them the more intricate moves Father Talod had taught them with a deftness. Ezril, however, found it more difficult than the others, afforded to the fact, as Father Talod often pointed out, that his Sunders were of significant difference from his brothers.

Ezril practiced the bow with his brothers and found himself their instructor, making amendments wherever they proved lacking. It helped him understand that among all the things he was, a good teacher was not one of them. He frowned upon mistakes easily, and took offense when Takan made snide remarks on the notion of the bow.

Olufemi proved the best teacher of them all. Father Zakarid would sit up on a tree while he taught them during the day of the wild. He would communicate only in signs, his finger weaving precise and intricate signs with a pace that ensured they could understand him. On the rare occasions that he spoke, he spoke only in vrail. They would track various animals of the forest beyond the west gate, and often track each other.

“What is Canopus?” Ezril asked Salem after one of their evening meals. They walked under the dark skies with nothing but stars and a crescent moon in it.

“It’s a star,” Salem said, unenthusiastic.

“I heard you call it a false star.”

Salem studied Ezril, skeptical. “I do not wish to speak of it, brother.”

“It’s been years, brother,” Ezril returned. “You will have to address it at some point.”

“I will if you address yours, brother.” Salem’s voice dripped with the accusation of hypocrisy.

Ezril feigned ignorance. “There is nothing to address.”

“Yes, a burning at the stake is nothing to address. I see how you react when it is spoken of. It is anything but nothing, brother.” Salem scoffed. “Do not expect of me something you would not expect of yourself.”

Silence stretched between them as they walked. Then Ezril spoke.

“It didn’t leave me broken,” he said, “or changed. When she used her power, I didn’t care much about how it felt or what it did. Regardless of what it was, I could only see her as a woman who tried to defend herself.” He looked at Salem. Revealing the long held truth proved more discomforting than he’d expected. “We were the ones at fault. When we went for her I didn’t know why. We intruded, and she fought back. It angered me to be a person that would walk into another’s home and take from them. We didn’t just take her, brother. We took her solace first. Then we took her.”

“But she conspired against the crown, brother,” Salem told him. “You were doing the right thing.”

“I did not…” Ezril recalled Jazabil’s words. “Because I am not intended to live… If not this, he will kill me for something else.”

“Perhaps.” He shrugged. “But I didn’t know this when we stormed her home.” He sighed, tired when he should not have been. “This is what we will be, brother. Men who do the things we will be asked to do without asking in return.”

Salem frowned. “You’ve heard the rumors.”

Ezril nodded. He had heard them during his service. The Merdendi raids had grown more violent, cutting through villages. Rumor was they were moving towards the West. It was only a matter of time before the kingdom would be at war with them. Nobody knew where the Merdendi came from. They had always been a scattered group of savages, Scorned and Tainted, living within the kingdom, hiding in the forests and the mountains. They had always been a part of the realm’s history and, some speculated, were even older.

“There is a rumor that a few groups have been seen raiding together,” Salem added. “The blue and the Red hands.”

Ezril frowned.

The Merdendi groups were discernable by the color of their tattoos and where they bore them. The groups never worked together, but they never fought each other. In actuality, they simply never crossed paths.

There was an old rumor of two colors meeting over one village. In the end they had gone their separate ways, sparing the village.

“There is rumor of war, brother,” Salem added gravely. “A war that the church will take part in—in defense of the kingdom and the Credo.”

Ezril understood the disturbance that came with the rumors. The realm hadn’t seen war in over a century, the last war had been nearly two centuries past.

“They will send us out,” he replied. “And we will fight…” … it matters naught the truth behind why we fight. We will fight.

They fell into a gentle silence. Their feet trampled on the ground in gentle steps.

“There are people who call it the old man,” Salem finally said when they reached the tower stairs. “Canopus,” he clarified. “They looked to it for guidance when travelling. My father said, to some people it is looked to for guidance, that’s why it’s called the old man.” He barked a sarcastic laugh. “Said it was the duty of the adults to provide guidance for the children.”

“So it’s not really a false star, is it?”

“No,” Salem replied, saddened. “It was my favorite star. But what he said about it was a lie. My father had no guidance for me. He couldn’t even do anything about his own daughter.”

“Your sister.”

“Yes…” Salem hesitated, as if contemplating. Then he sighed. “My half-sister, actually.”

Ezril paused. “Half-sister?”

Salem nodded. “My mother died at child birth. It’s the reason my father was willing to take a chance on the seminary. He was convinced that the only way my mother could’ve been killed by child birth was if the child—me—was Hallowed.”

Suspecting that neither of them would be willing to go into the conversation of family, Ezril pushed the conversation back to the topic at hand.

“That’s why you called it the false star,” he said.

Salem nodded.

“Have you decided what priest you will be?” he asked, changing the topic without subtlety as they went up the dark stairs.

“I have.”

“It’s a good thing for a man to know what he wants. I have made my decision, and I think it is important you know of it before anyone else.”

Ezril waited, knowing there was more. When Salem spoke again, it was not what he expected.

“I have decided on the class of Exorcist.”

They made their way to their room, all the while Ezril remained confused.