Rigor Mortis

Chapter Five: Homesickness

I was sitting in class, bored out of my skull. The instructor was droning on and on about the power of belief in runes and symbols and it didn't look like he was going to stop anytime soon. I glanced around me. Many rich and noble families had sent their children here in hopes that they would become learned sorcerers and bring honor back home. This was good, because it meant that I wasn't the only human wandering about the Citadel who wasn't a servant. Everyone was of a different age. Most were teenagers like myself, some were very young and some were in their middle age. It seemed that they were all paying rapt attention besides me...and of course, Moebius. He was scribbling on a piece of parchment, not even looking at what he was writing but instead cast his gaze out the window. If he could get away with it, then so could I., I decided. I began to compose a letter for my mother, telling her only the good things that had happened, leaving out everything about the massacre and my own involvement. I didn't want her to worry.

Though I wrote to her every day, I had yet to receive a response. I tried my best to keep up a stolid front, but inside I was nervous. Was she choosing not to reply or were the letters even getting to her? Every night, the same worries ate away at me, preventing me from good sleep. Still, I wrote...

'Dear Mother, life here in the Citadel is very exciting. We're always learning something new and I've made many new friends. (Which was an outright lie. Even my classmates, who had been ostracized at home because of their arcane talents, shunned me.) The instructors are very kind and I'm getting plenty to eat. I cannot wait to come visit you. How is Father? I am anxious to know how that fever of his is doing. I suppose you cannot write back as often as you would like if you are having to take care of him...' Suddenly, a loud slamming noise on my desk made me jump. The instructor had caught me.

"Mortanius! What is that you're writing? I hope it's ample and detailed notes, for your sake, young man!" the instructor suddenly yelled. Peering into my eyes, he was the most frightening thing I had ever faced. It didn't help that the instructor was a vampire, one of the best wizards in the Citadel. Even Janos relied on him!

"I...I'm sorry, sir..." I stammered.

He snatched up the piece of parchment and began to read its contents aloud in a wavering childlike voice. When he arrived to the part about my 'many new friends' the entire class laughed. I had never gone to a school before, and I had never felt the terror that is classroom humiliation. My face burned with shame as I tried to sink deeper into my chair.

"Ha ha! Miss your Mommy?" one boy jeered.

"Little Tanny needs to go home!" another giggled.

"Are you sure you're getting enough din-din in your tummy?" yet another asked and laughed crazily.

"You all are a bunch of asses, you know that?" another spoke.

There was silence in the classroom as everyone swiveled their heads to see who had said such an uncouth thing. Moebius, leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on his desk, was smiling vaguely at the class.

"Making fun of a chap who misses his home," he said in a conversational tone, as though he wasn't the source of admonishment, " As though none of you don't. I know some people who should write home more often. I know I should." That being said, he stood up and proceeded to walk out of the classroom.

"And just where do you think you're going?" the instructor demanded from his lectern.

"Haven't decided yet..." he replied dreamily.

"Just because you're a Guardian doesn't mean you have full run of this place," the instructor hissed, "This is MY classroom and you should know Master Audron WILL hear about this,"

"But not from you..." Moebius shrugged. He turned, smiled at me and left the classroom. The class was stunned into silence for nearly a minute until the instructor banged on the lectern for attention and continued his presentation as though there had been no interruption.

The end of that period couldn't come fast enough. I tried to keep my head down as we all entered the hallway, but still I was jostled by many others. Having an hour to spare between now and my next class, I headed to the library where I was certain to be alone. I supposed nothing had really changed in my coming to the Citadel. I was alone as before, the only difference was that I was surrounded by more people now. I was still considered bizarre, in a place where the bizarre thrived, and as always, I retreated from these difficult situations to the library. Before I could reach Sanctuary, however, a voice called out to me.

"Why don't you stand up for yourself, for once?" It was Moebius, who had crept up on me. He had shown me compassion once before, when the semester hadn't started yet. I had accidentally raised my beloved dog from the grave in Vassurbunde and was waiting for it to reach me so I could dispose of it before anyone could find out about it. To my surprise, he hadn't been afraid or repulsed by me at all. Instead, he had chosen to help me. He still made me terribly nervous, as I still remembered what those souls had said when I first came to the Citadel. Like a snake into the den...? Had he really been responsible for the massacre? How could a solitary man kill so many powerful vampires?

"I..." I tried, but gave up responding. How could he understand?

"What, you're afraid that they'll think you're even creepier?" he asked.

"I..." I tried again but he interrupted.

"I'm hungry. Let's go eat," and turned to head toward the kitchen. Though he did not drag me, I knew I had little choice in the matter.

"I don't think the cooks will give you anything. It's not even close to supper and they're really strict in giving hand-outs," I attempted to convince him.

"Could've fooled me," he replied as we continued down the hall.

To my amazement, the cooks all greeted him when we entered the kitchen. The smell of roasting meats and boiling vegetables assaulted my nose and I grew acutely aware that I actually was hungry. I watched in admiration as Moebius made idle banter with them as he deftly sampled their dishes. He asked about spices and certain cuts of meat and they were all happy to answer. I had a feeling that he really didn't care much about what he was even asking. Before I knew it, he had acquired for us a hunk of good bread, a bit of excellent cheese, and two cups of wine with the cooks' full blessing.. At the last item, I expressed my horror, for novices weren't supposed to drink wine. Moebius merely waved his hand and laughed.

"We're novices? According to whom?" he asked.

"The instructors and the other faculty! Especially the upper classmen!" I reminded him angrily.

"Then they won't be getting any," he said, and raised his cup to me. We had retreated to a secluded spot, a place where we were considered outside but the walls to the west and east protected us from the winds. The sun shone through a cloudy grey sky and though snow still blanketed most of the ground, it was obvious that spring was approaching. Under a great fir tree, we were quite comfortable.

Seeing how easily he drank, I cautiously raised the cup to my lips and sipped. It was both bitter and sweet at the same time, with something that burned pleasantly down my throat. I felt as though I had overcome an obstacle of manhood and I happily drank more.

"Everything in moderation, eh?" he said, watching me. I nodded, tasting the cheese.

"Thank you...for ...um...earlier," I said, uncertain how my thanks would be received by a strange man like him. He merely shrugged.

"So...um...have you gotten any responses back from your parents? From when you wrote them?" I asked.

"Why would I write to them?"

"But, in the classroom, you said that you should write to them more often."

"Did I? That's intriguing. I must have been lying." he said, bemused. "Unfortunate that there's no address for the prestigious family 'No One'.

"I'm sorry! I should have thought before I asked...I'm a conversational dunce sometimes." I said, realizing that he was admitting in a roundabout sort of way that he was either an orphan or a bastard, both very shameful things to be.

"Don't worry, it made getting away with things a lot easier when I was younger," he laughed.

"But that's a horrible thing to say!"

"Is it? It's all in the perspective," he said and stood up, brushing the snow from his trousers. "So you've written every day, and still haven't gotten a response? How interesting."

"How did you know that?" I demanded.

"Context clues?" he shrugged. "Either your mother is too busy to reply or...the letters aren't getting to where they are supposed to go...or..."

"Or what?"

"They aren't getting out at all," he finished, leaning in confidentially.

"But that's impossible. Janos said that I could write home as often as I like," I retorted.

"That doesn't mean they get sent out..." he speculated wickedly.

"Janos doesn't bother with any of that double-talk!" I defended.

"Then perhaps he doesn't know. Why would someone as important as he is even be concerned with the mail?" he said, "But I wonder, if it is such an ordeal to contact the outside world...how will your request for visiting home be received?"

"Who said that I wanted to go home?" I growled, burning with shame.

"No One, I guess," he sighed.

"Just what are you implying, Moebius? That there's some sort of conspiracy going on? Some diabolical plot to keep us away from our families?" I demanded.

"I'm implying nothing," he replied and took a final swig of the wine. He walked away a few paces, looked up at the sky and said, "What a fine day. Oh and Mortanius?"

"What?" I asked, now fully irritated.

"You're late to your next class."

I uttered a cry of horror and as quickly as I could, I ran back into the academic wing where my alchemy class took place. Being late, I was made to sit out in the hallway, balancing very heavy tomes on my head. And while I tried and failed at this task again and again, I noticed that Moebius had this very same class with me. He had not run back with me! Though I was thoroughly annoyed, I couldn't help but harbor a certain admiration for him. He was being disrespectful, yes, but he was doing it in such a quizzical way as to be endearing. I decided that he should be my friend from then on...

and he would come with me when I went to inquire about the letters later.