Chapter 9 A Gift for Flight

His new Captain was strict. Feli found himself waking before sunrise, and even that was too late for the military man. Feli had to carry his own things, and he rejoiced that he didn't have that much to begin with.

The days were long and the work tiring. As the first official Healer, he found himself in charge of a staff that didn't know what they were doing and constantly in need of supplies he didn't have. On top of that, none of them were Weavers and most of them were drunks, intent on using the medicinal supplies for recreational uses.

As for the army on a whole, they mostly ignored him. Feliciano wasn't one of them and they weren't at all like him. He would sit alone on the ground and drink soup-which was just barely different from the mud at his feet-while the rest of them played cards or engaged in some other form of free time. Ludwig had explained that their campaign for the time being had mostly ended and that they were preparing for the journey home. To Huld.

He would have liked to feel excited about the idea. Huld so far had been a place in his imagination, a country that had build cities, nothing like the places he had been before. But now his imagination was colored by the Captain and his upright, stern being. He envisioned Huld as an orderly place of walls, high and unbearably repressive.

There was no Toris or Raivis or Natalia. There were no women and no children. The men seemed to have a hardened, untrusting look and Feli soon gave up the hope of befriending any of them. By the second day he had heard enough to tell the swindlers from the cheats and the gamblers from the thieves: petty crimes that had rendered them as cheap labor to whoever was willing to pay.

And that person willing to pay was Ludwig's brother. The Captain had said no more of his brother, and Feliciano had hardly seen him since the man walked into his tent with a dower expression on his face. Was it possible to feel alone in the impersonal and confined life of an army Healer? He didn't want to think about it, but the thought kept popping up, just as the medical supplies steadily went missing.

"It's this damn foot of mine," Feli's patient gasped. "Hurts like the-"

The man had staggered into the medical tent. Perhaps stagger was just a euphemism: the man had wrenched back the curtain of the medical tent, used the table for support (on which he knocked down several jars and syringes), and flopped onto the cot as a elegantly as a fish flops on a riverbank. Also, he was clearly inebriated.

"C-can you take off your shoes?" Feli asked. "I-I mean, take off your shoes."

The man, more or less, complied. When the footwear had been discarded, the foot emerged. Or rather, it had once been a foot, but abuse and hard wear had rendered it a slug with five tumors hanging off of it, the color of a plum.

Feli thought his lunch would be the next thing to be discarded.

He was sure of one thing, however. His Weaving skills would do little to help this particular case. He went to the table and grabbed a bucket and something sharp. Hopefully the alcohol the man had already consumed would be enough to counteract the pain.

He took a deep breath and got to work.

It wasn't the first time he had worked with an alcoholic.

Priest Kirkland had been more or less of one. During the last year of Feli's training, the priest had started showing up to lessons with a flask in hand. His Weaving, however, was still as strong as ever.

"You're still not getting it," Priest Kirkland said irritably, his fingers toying with a spell that could annihilate Feli with a simple flip of the wrist. "If you can't protect yourself, what good are you to anyone?"

Already, Feliciano's clothing was singed where his teacher's magic had broken through the barriers.

"I don't want to fight anyone," Feliciano called from across the room.

His teacher's eyes narrowed. "And what makes you think you can avoid that?" Before he knew it, another stream of sparks was sent his way, their light whizzing through the air and shattering the barriers. Feliciano felt the sharp pain as the light hit him, cutting like glass.

"You can't even avoid my attacks."

"It's not the same."

"Oh? Is it?" Another burst was shot his way. This time Feliciano tried to dodge, but the sparks hit him in the chest. Red slowly bloomed around the area.

"Please! I don't want to fight anymore!" What was left of his barrier started to shatter and more sparks zoomed for their target.

"Pleading didn't work. Now what?"

"I- I-"

Another burst. More spots of red.

"Neither will stuttering."

He could feel the threads snapping, their will to stay in place diminishing as each hit landed. Soon the barrier would break, soon he would...

Another flash of light and more pain. He looked on as his protective spell shivered and fell into nothing. Now it was just him and his teacher.

Arthur prepared for another strike. This time it would cause more than just cuts.

Time slowed to a heartbeat as Feliciano ran to the other side of the room. He could hear the sparks shoot pass him, their electricity trembling with excitement.

The wall behind him exploded, crumpling into broken bits of plaster.

He grabbed on to the adjacent wall for support as the room shook in his vision for a bit. When the worst had ended, he could hear Priest Kirkland's sardonic chuckling.

"Well," he said, "You could always run."

The end of his shift came with a mixture of relief and anxiety. He had been given a bundle of canvas, no, perhaps given was not the correct term. A bundle of canvas had been thrown at his head along with the shout, "Your tent!" From that point, he could only stare occasionally at the fabric while he made his rounds.

He had never assembled a tent before and so, as he laid out the roll on an even patch of earth, he very much doubted he would be sleeping under anything other than the stars tonight.

But, after a bit of experimentation in the dusk, he managed to gather a few branches together so that the tent stood up more or less on its own. The space inside was tiny, and he bet that if he knew how to work such things, it would have been three times as big, but he was exhausted by the time he had climbed onto the pallet.

The confined quarters were uncomfortably sweltering, so he disrobed, a frantic struggle in the tiny space. His eyes were already closed before his last article of clothing had been pulled off.

He could have been dozing off for a few minutes, or a few hours, but whispers snapped him awake.

"He's frail like a woman should be, but still there's-"

"He's waking up."

He saw the three heads poking in at the sagging opening of his tent.

It had been the first time he had slept naked in years and instantly Feli regretted it. He woke to the voices, a lantern light shining over his bare body.

He'd felt shame before. Many times, but it was never for being naked. Now he felt cold suddenly. He looked at the intruders but their faces were obscured by the light.

Instantly, he tried to cover himself with blankets.

"Did we scare you?"

Feli didn't speak. Fear had caught his tongue. He figured once he covered himself the men would have seen all they needed to. And yet, they made no effort to leave.

"Still," one of them said, "he has the face of a women."

"No. It's more like a boy's."

"Just what is a Thender anyway?"

"They say they're born with too much of something. It makes their bodies unable to decide what route to take."

At last Feliciano spoke, "What do you want?" He noticed his voice was angry, almost shrieking.

"We heard we had something special."

"Yes, and we couldn't control our curiosity."

"So, are you going to do your little magic tricks now?"

Feli shook his head. He was still in a state of shock. "No. I will do no such thing."

There was a silence. Feli picked up the pungent scent of alcohol on the men's breath. In truth he felt defenseless. He could not face these men physically and he refused to use magic.

"Well then," one of them said. "Let's get a better look."

Feliciano didn't even need to think. In one fluid movement, he was on his feet and bounding through the canvas tent he had shoddily constructed. In another his bare feet were slipping on the mud and his face fell flat to the ground. And he was screaming.

He shivered as a light drizzle fell on his unclothed back, the night air relentless on his spine. He heard footsteps squashing the mud, but he refused to look up. He blamed himself for being stupid and ignorant to the world, to the kind of people that inhabited it. Surely he had been living in some kind of fantasy land, and the hard breeze that swept through him felt like the cold slap of reality finally waking him up from his twenty-year slumber.

"Identify yourself," the harsh words rang, but an euphonious feeling of joy ran through him. Because that voice, that voice was the only voice-

"It's me, Captain." He looked into the Captain's face, but no surge of surprise betrayed the man.

"Explain."

"Well, you see Captain, I was running from some men who came into my tent while I was asleep-"

"They unclothed you?"

"Uh, no. They- I unclothed myself, well not while they were there-"

"Get to the point."

"Yes, sir. It was a warm night and I decided to sleep- naked. While I was asleep three men came into my tent and wanted- made me- I think they wanted me to show them my powers."

"And did you?"

"No. I refused. But then they- I ran before they could do anything else."

"Is this all you have to report?"

"Yes, sir."

Ludwig sighed, the smallest bit of resignation now playing on his features, teetering between making itself known or not.

The Captain looked at him and sighed, "Pack up your things and come to my tent."

"Captain?"

"That's an order." Then he was gone. Feli was speechless. Instantly he started gathering his bedroll and folding his tent; it looked like the Captain had scared whoever they were away.

But Feli wondered what the Captain wanted with him. He did not have long to think about it. In less than five minutes he stood at the entrance to the Captain's tent.

Ludwig turned, and his face colored. Feliciano was reminded of the soldier's swollen foot.

"Put some clothes on!"

Later, sufficiently clothed, Feli stood once again at the entrance to the Captain's tent.

"Come here," Ludwig said. "I want you to know, first of all, that this is a hired army. My brother did not hire these men because of their good character. It was my mistake for assuming you were-," he sighed, unable to find the words that suited his unique dilemma. "Anyway, you will sleep in my tent from now on."

Ludwig's tent? Half of him rejoiced, the other half was alarmed.

A/N: Haha, I just loved awkward Ludwig. And what? An upload in the middle of the week? Anyway, thanks for reading. And special thanks to the reviewers. I know you guys don't have to write anything, but taking the time just to add a short note really means a lot to me. Until next time.