The Seeker’s Apprentice (Chapter 9): Consequences

“ We must all suffer from one of two pains: the pain of discipline or the pain of regret. The difference is discipline weighs ounces while regret weighs tons.” - Jim Rohn

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

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Previously on The Seeker’s Apprentice:

Nadira’s harrowing first day of training was a game changer, and not just in the monster hunting skills department. The chord pulling her and Jorund towards each other finally snapped, resulting in a passionate kiss, one neither expected.

Now, a rift has been torn open between them. And Nadira wonders, can it be repaired?

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Chapter 9: Consequences

She didn’t join the boys for dinner, instead after bandaging up her injuries, choosing the solitude of her room, and an apple for a meal. Fine by her. If she was really being honest with herself, she wasn’t bitter about the fact she almost died. After all, it wasn’t the first time. No, this resentment reached in much deeper, nearly souring her taste for the apple.

He kissed her. Not a timid one either. He meant it. More than that, she kissed him back. Even now, staring at the ceiling like she could make herself forget if she just stared hard enough, she could still feel it. His hand at her waist, the way his heat flared, her body forming to him like she was always meant to be there, letting him press against her like that.

In a way, she hated it. It wasn’t enough she was out of sorts and unprepared, now she felt…unworthy. That word scratched at her, an itch she couldn’t wane. She never cared before, never had a mind to. Yet here she was, her stomach churning because of something he said, something he did.

Shaking her head, she let out a frustrated grunt, rising from the bed and taking out her daggers, practicing her lunges and attacks around the room. She tried not to think about what tomorrow would be like, tried to push him from her mind. Still, he lingered where she didn’t want him. Or worse, maybe she did.

After a time, what was left of her energy all but spent, she put her blades away and threw herself across the bed. It was quiet. Too quiet. She could hear the echoing of cheers and squalls coming from the main hall as the boys continued their raucous nocturnal activities. Turning on her side, she closed her eyes and covered her ears, hoping to drown them out.

It took her a while but eventually she lost herself to sleep. Though it was restless, with little escape from his influence even in her dreams, she managed to give her mind a small reprieve.

When the familiar clang of the early morning bell rang again, she was already up, seating her blades and on her way back to the hall. She couldn’t help but fidget, pacing the corridor a few times before letting out a heavy breath and making her entrance, squeezing at her hands.

A few of the other seekers were already seated at the table though they looked a bit more worn than they had last night. Droopy eyelids and heavy footfalls, clear signs of a rise much earlier than any of them desired. Serves them right, she thought. She couldn’t help but notice that Jorund wasn’t among them. Oddly enough, instead of the relief she thought she’d feel, there was a small twinge in her stomach, a pain she couldn’t describe.

“Oy, Nadira, was it?”

One of the men, she vaguely remembered Mack referring to him as Klest, had turned his attention away from the other souls around him, mouth half full with a fresh bite of bread, his expression not mocking but cautious.

Rising from his seat before she could answer, he approached her, ending up closer than she wanted him to, making her scoot over a step.

He was bigger up close, more mountainous and stocky than Jorund’s elf-like frame. It didn’t help that his armor was on the bulkier side as well, making his entire posture like that of a boulder. His stark blonde hair was cropped short, just a little waft of a wave in the longer layers up top.

She had to admit, though nothing compared to the whisper of flame held in Jorund’s eyes, Klest’s almost matched his in ice, a shade of blue as striking as a winter’s sunlit sky, a darkened ring around each iris. Features speaking loudly of an ancient race of men long since lost to time. But proud all the same.

For a long while, he merely stared, wide eyed, continuing to rip into his morning bread, studying her as though she were the first woman he had ever seen.

“Can I help you?” She smirked.

“Klest, leave the poor woman in peace, won’t you?” This voice came from another still seated at the table. A smaller man, one she knew only as Jax.

After a tense moment he turned back to the table, muttering something in a language she couldn’t understand. Whatever it was, however, it didn’t sound like a compliment.

“Apologies, Miss. He doesn’t take kindly to strangers. Been a long time since we’ve had a new seeker among us. Never one so…unique.” His eyes did a quick dance down her bodysuit. Nadira tried to ignore it.

“A woman, you mean?”

“Aye. It’s certainly not something any of us are used to.”

“I gathered that.”

He smiled warmly, “Would you care to sit?”

She eyed Klest’s brawny posture on Jax’s opposite side, still muttering in between hearty bites.

“Don’t worry about him. He’s harmless. Unless you’re a monster.”

“That remains to be seen,” she said, taking the seat next to him. He chuckled.

He was darker than his compatriots, his skin kissed by the sun, an even starker contrast to Jorund. His umber hair was longer, tied together neatly with a leather string.

“I’m Jax.”

He held out his hand and she took it carefully, giving it a light shake, “Nadira.”

His grin widened, “I know. You’ve made quite the stir around here. For Jorund especially. He’ll never say it but I think he’s more fond of you than any of us.”

She scoffed, taking her plate and filling it with some of the food left on the table. “He certainly has a funny way of showing it.”

“Nah, give him time. He’ll come round. He’s just not used to it.”

She paused, “Not used to what?”

“Taking a hit on his pride. What you did last night was quite a bold move. No one’s ever done that. Challenged him like that. You should’ve seen the way he pouted after you left. Went sulking straight to his room.”

But she knew it wasn’t just because of the Caela. That it seemed to be as much on his mind as it was hers. That ache in her ribs thrummed a bit and she put down the last of her food, suddenly unable to continue.

“My apologies, I am oft too guilty of speaking far more than I ought to.”

“No, it’s all right.”

Just then, a figure came around the corner into the hall. Jorund. He didn’t say much, hardly looking at her as he sat across and a few seats down from her, grabbing some food of his own. She couldn’t not look at him, finding herself almost desperate he would at least acknowledge her, the twinge in her side poking at her fiercely.

Not long afterward, Mack joined in, taking his usual seat at the head of the table. Surprisingly, he didn’t tease or even balk at her, instead getting right to the day’s work.

“All right, everyone here?” After a few muffled grunts and head turns, satisfied all who needed to be were present, he proceeded with the assignments.

Nadira held her breath, wondering if Jorund had indeed made some objection to continuing her training, a concern that continued to grow as the list of potential successors grew thin.

“And finally, since all the excitement of yesterday, I think our girl is in great need of a skills trial. Jorund, I want you to take her—“

“My apologies, sir, I can not,” Jorund interrupted, coming to a stand. “In fact, I think Nadira’s training would be much better suited for another seeker.”

Mack raised his eyebrows. “Is that so? And why is that?”

“I only—“

Mack sighed, “Jorund, are you not a man of your word?”

Jorund’s jaw tightened, his fingers balling up.

“Look, I don’t know what happened between you two out there and, frankly, I don’t care to. You brought her here, spoke of her great abilities and talents, practically begged me to let her come. Now it’s your turn to hold up your end of the bargain. You wanted her here, you train her. That was the deal.”

“Mack—“

“No. I’ve said my peace. Just make sure that whatever you two need to work out, you do it before the hunt.”

Jorund slammed his fist onto the table before throwing the doors open and stomping off.

Nadira shoved herself up, preparing to follow.

“Listen here lass,”

She paused, keeping her back to him.

“The last thing any of my men need is distraction.”

She turned on her heels. “Is that all I am? A distraction?”

He jutted to a stand, lifting his knife, pointing it straight at her. “Don’t play those games with me. That may work with Jorund but he hasn’t seen what I have. He hasn’t been where I’ve been. An Ekzeteo’s life is no life for a family outside of what we have here. You’d best remember that, do you hear?”

She was struck by his words. But it wasn’t what he said so much as the brief flash behind his eyes. Something buried far beneath the anger. Pain. And it was in that moment her perception of him altered. She realized it wasn’t about her at all. This was about him. Mack was trying to protect him.

Suddenly robbed of her words, she froze. Mack sat back down, consumed once again with finishing his meal.

No more words were spoken. None were needed as Nadira once again turned towards the door and pushed through into the rising sun.

The story continues…

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