Victor Deus (Heritage of the Blood Book 1) (8 page)

“Everything in the chest is yours Victor, and it would take a mighty will for anyone to open it except you or me.” She was pretty sure that he had heard her, but he looked so engrossed in putting the sheath onto his belt that she couldn't be entirely sure. She continued anyway, “The great thing about the chest is that it can seemingly disappear, and wherever you are you can call it out at will.”

He looked up at her with amazed eyes. “You are the greatest!” He took a quick glance into the chest, which was bigger than he was, she knew that he wouldn't want to spoil any of the surprises until he was used to the idea of having a dagger. “Can I go outside?”

She smiled and knew that she didn't need to cook any more bacon than for herself, because she wouldn't see him until later this afternoon or this evening. “Sure honey, just stay out of trouble.”

He ran over and gave her waist a hug, “I will, I love you, See you later.” He turned and ran towards the door.

“Bye, have fun, and stay safe.” She watched him run out the door as he waved back at her. She then used her will to force the chest back into stasis, and thought about her long life.

*****

Victor had been out playing all morning and most of the afternoon. He was just about half way through the Dock's District when he got the feeling that he should be returning home. Sighing aloud, he started on his way back towards home. Most of the day had been spent watching day-to-day life go by in the Dock's District. It was a busy place. Victor loved to watch the ships and the tide come in and out. There were not as many boats coming and going now because it was Midwinter, and it was too cold to sit and watch the ocean for too long. The rest of his time had been spent in alleyways testing the sharpness of his new blade. He would slash at broken barrels, broken shipping crates, and whatever else he could find that someone had thrown out.

Wandering back towards the Civilian Sector at a steady pace, he could smell wood burning. This was not the normal smell of firewood though. He could smell cloth, and other things burning also. He had smelled this smell before a few years earlier when he had witnessed a house burn down. Victor looked around to see where the smoke was coming from; he wanted to see the fire before he went home. He saw smoke finally, and it was in the same direction that he was heading, so he quickened his pace. After about three blocks, he realized that the smoke was coming from his home.

Oh no, Shaylyn!
That was the only thought that went through his mind as he broke into a sprint. When he got there, flames were billowing out from the attic, but that didn't stop him from running in the front door. People tried to grab him before he darted into the building, but none of them were fast enough to stop him. He got into his house and almost everything in sight was bathed in flames, but it also looked as if there had been a fight. Chairs had been knocked over, the stove was lying in a few different pieces, and there was paper everywhere. There was also a lot of residual energy in the air, and he could sense that something was terribly wrong. He heard a noise coming from his room, and he ran towards the door. He grabbed the handle, which was still surprisingly cool, and he swung the door open. He had just enough time to see the man in his room before the man disappeared in a blinding flash.

Victor felt like he would never forget the man's face or the clothes the man wore, for the rest of his life. The man had a hawkish look about his face and an impish grin that framed his bald head, and his robes were the color of fresh blood. He started to head in towards his room, to save as many things from the fire as he could, when he realized that the smoke was making it hard for him to breathe. He felt so stupid, it is a simple matter for a Shaper to change the smoke going into his lungs into clean air, but he realized he had waited too long as his world began to go black. The last thing he felt before blackness enveloped him completely were two strong arms wrapping around his body.

*****

Victor awoke with a jolt.

“You alright kid?” A large man whose hair was smoke blonde asked. His face was covered in soot, and his shirt was black and gold.

“What happened? Where's Shaylyn?” His eyes were darting this way and that through the crowd looking for his teacher, and mother.

“Sorry kid, you were the only one in there, I checked as fast as I could, but you were the only one in there.” The big man stated with sad eyes.

“No! Shaylyn!” Victor stood and took his bearings. He was only about forty feet away from where his house used to be, and where a burned out husk now stood. Amazingly, his house was the only home that burned down. There were no scorch marks on any of the other buildings as far as Victor could see. Something in his mind began to send out an alarm as he realized the other buildings were only inches away from the inferno, and yet unscathed. Without conscious thought, Victor listened to a voice inside his head that told him to run.

“Kid where ya' goin'?!” The man started after Victor, but soon realized that he was no match for the child's size and speed in such densely packed streets. “Kid, stop!”

Victor ran through the streets, and alleys. He ran until he couldn't run anymore, and then he ran some more. He didn't know where his feet were taking him; he just knew he had to run. He ran straight into the back of a familiar twelve-year-old boy.

The boy turned around to see who had dared run into him, and he saw an annoyingly familiar face. “You?! What do you want now, you want to make fun of me some more?” The large boy cooed before realizing that the child in front of him was crying. “What happened to you?” He said with worry coming through his voice. It had not been that long ago that the boy himself had lost his parents, so he listened to the young boy's story with a knowing nod. The evening sun was just reaching the peaks of the far hilltops. Dusk had begun, and it was going to be a long night. 

Chapter 2

Getting a Little Dirty

Year 3041 AGD

Month:  Year's End

Fourth Eighthday

Eve of New Beginnings

Continent of Terroval

Docks District

So that's what all the hub-ub is about eh?” The older boy looked down at the crying boy in front of him and tried his best to put on a welcoming face. “Them's the strokes of life though, lost me pa' to the army, and me mum to a bad cold. Been on me' own for near enough to four months now. Guess we poor uncivilized folk ain't the only ones who get a bucket of waste water dumped on our lives.”

Victor had told the older boy his story, using as few words as possible so he could be understood through his sobbing. He kept trying to pull himself together, but it just didn't seem to be working. The first thing he had tried was the breathing technique that Shaylyn had taught him. When he had started the process he had started remembering all of the lessons that Shaylyn had taught him over his few years of life and the tears would come back with a vengeance. Victor realized at that moment that everything he knew, he knew because of her, and now she was gone. Taken by the man in the blood red robes.
Where have I seen those robes before?
Trying to think of anything but his loss was nearly impossible and this made him so frustrated that he felt like he'd never stop crying.

“…. And that's when I met Ol' man Walkins. He's been teaching me and a few of the other boys how to survive on the cold hard streets. It's kind of him to take us in; he says so all the time. He says that the world belongs to rich men, and as long as it does they won't miss the things we take. Why just yesterday he had us…”

Wow he talks a lot.
Victor was trying to listen, he really was. For some reason however, his mind wouldn't let him concentrate on anything. The only time he had ever felt like this before was when he had accidentally burned himself with a fireball that went off too close. It took him a moment to register what the big boy had been talking about. “You mean that you're thieves?”

“No, no, we aren't thieves. I asked the same question myself once, then Ol' Walkins he set me straight. He said that rich men were decent enough folk most of the time, and that if they knew of our… of the… damn what's the word he used… anyway, if they knew of the bad way we was in…”

“Plight?” Victor asked quietly

“Yeah that's the word… dang you sure are smart for a little kid. Anyway, if they knew of our plight they'd be givin' us stuff anyway. So, since they'd give it to us anyway there's no need to bother 'em about it. So we just slip in at night and take what's coming to us anyway, or we slip a wallet from a pocket here or there and lighten a gentleman's load for 'em.”

“So what your saying is… that you take someone's property without asking them, and your not thieves?”

“Exactly, see I knew you was a smart one. Ol' man Walkins is gonna like you. You're small and smart, and he says that's the best qualities for what we do. I'll bet he puts you at the head of the boys, under me of course. It's a really nice place, we got…”

A thief, I can't be a thief. What would Shaylyn say?
He brooded on that thought for a moment before one of the lessons Shaylyn had given him came to mind.

*****

“Now remember Victor, just because you can spin a blade, or staff doesn't mean you should. There's intimidation, and then there's showing off. Intimidation will get you out of a fight, and showing off will get you dead.”

Victor was glad to be finally getting lessons with a dagger. Shaylyn had finally started teaching him how to fight last year. Sure, she called it playing, but about six months ago he had realized what she was really doing. It was just the way that she taught,
learn by doing
. That's what she called it. No matter if it was reading, giving shape to a spell, or wrestling, she always had him dive right in, and she'd be there to give him pointers on what he was doing wrong. Ever since he could remember he had been taught this way.

“If you can learn how to use a weapon effectively, then you can learn how to impress others with it, but not before you learn to use it well. Victor, are you listening to me?”

He nodded, and tried to look more attentive.

She leaned in close with the dagger she was carrying and pointed the tip of it at his nose. “Repeat everything I just told you then.”

He did, even going back a few minutes into her instructions on how to hold a blade correctly. “Not too tight, but not too loose. Too tight, and every strike will jar you. Too loose and the weapon will come out of your hand and it's useless. Just because you can use flashy moves with a weapon doesn't mean you should. If you try to show off during a fight it could get you killed. Once you know how to use a weapon well, then you can try to use it to intimidate or impress, but only to try to stop a fight before it starts.”

“Very good Victor, I know you think I'm just pestering you with little details, but it's the little details that will let you survive in life. Of course, some day, when you are about fifteen or so, you'll have to learn some of this all over again. Your body will start to feel different and you'll have to relearn what it's capable of. It'll be awkward for awhile, but as long as you keep your mind sharp and your body fit, it shouldn't be too bad.” She said this to him quietly, with a hint of sadness in her voice.

“You sound as if your not gonna be there when that happens.” Victor had noticed her telling him what to expect when he was getting older for a little while now, but this was the first time he had addressed it verbally.

“First of all, it is going to, not gonna. You don't need to sound like a street urchin. Second of all... I'm not always going to be there. There will come a day when I'm gone. You'll have to rely on all that I have taught you, and will teach you, until that day does come.” She leaned in and kissed him on the forehead before giving him that look that he dreaded. The look that said she was trying to remember every hair on his head perfectly. “When that day does come Victor, I want you to do everything you can to survive. No matter what Victor, you must survive.”

*****

I'll survive Shaylyn, no matter what.
A new set of tears started rolling down his cheeks, and he realized that the boy was still talking.

“… Roland, he's a good kid, but he likes to look up the ladies dresses. Besides that though, he's pretty trustworthy and loyal as a dog…”

The boy paused for a second to catch his breath and Victor jumped at the opportunity to get a word in. “I'm Victor” he said while he put his hand out in front of him in an offer of a hand shake.

“Oh yeah, where are me manners. Shawnrik Larston at your service Victor, but everyone just calls me Shawny, or big Shawn. I kinda prefer Big Shawn myself, I'll answer to either, but please don't call me Shawnrik. It makes me sound like a wuss.”

The pleading in the large boy's voice nearly made Victor laugh at the ridiculous situation, if it wasn't for his heartache, he might have. “How about if I call you Shawn, or Larston?”

“Sounds good to me, don't mind people callin' me by my last name, kinda makes me feel important like Ol' Walkins.” He puffed his chest out to make himself look even bigger.

Victor was finally able to get his emotions somewhat under control, at least for the moment. He wiped his eyes on his sleeves, and then wiped off the extra moisture that had accumulated on the rest of his face. That was about the time that the city guard showed up.

“Hey you two, what are you doing out this late?” A young man wearing the purple, black, and gold of the city watch asked.

Of course, being a fine youth of above average intellect Victor answered as any upstanding young man would.

“Nothing,” both of the boys intoned at the same time.

“Ah nothin' eh? Now I ask myself, what two boys would be doing around the Dock's District this fine Midwinter's eve? Of course my first thought was nothing, but then something nagged at me.” He pointed toward Shawnrik. “Don't I know you?”