Chapter 4
A Foreboding Feeling
"Wake up, fire top!"
Thom groaned in his sleep and rolled over in hi bed. It couldn't have been morning already. He had just fallen asleep. And there was no way to believe that Gary's voice would suddenly float into his ears, as if he were lingering in the room.
Sleepily, the redhead peered at the hazy face forming before him. This couldn't be real. It's just a dream. Gary's not supposed to be in here. I never invited him in. And it's not like he'd be in my room anyway, he thought, yawning. Gary in my room, yeah…sure. That's a good one. He's not in my room.
Gary was in Thom's room.
"Huaha!" Thom jolted awake and nearly fell off his bed from the shock. "W-what are you doing in here!" he stammered, pointing an accusing finger at the big youth.
Gary chuckled in amusement. "Don't look surprised. Your manservant Coram brought me in here. He said not even a flood could wake you," he explained, a devilish grin spreading across his mouth. "Now come along, or you'll be late."
"Not on your life," Thom growled, throwing the covers over his head and curling back to sleep. He wasn't going to let some grinning buffoon get his way. He was going to sleep. There was no power on earth – whether it be an Immortal or a god – that could make him move from his bed.
Gary sighed and shook his head. Then, with a small shrug, he threw his arms forward before Thom could react.
"Hey! Ow!"
"…Algebra is the building block…"
The sound of the old monk's wheezing voice droned on and on monotonously. It was a miracle how anyone could last at least seven minutes in class without dozing off.
The room was full of weary-eyed pages, some struggling to stay awake, others already in a deep slumber. Jonathan, for one thing, had piled his books up on his desk and hid behind them, resting his head against the table. Francis had completely succumbed to the sweet callings of slumber and was now slumped limply against his chair, his head facing the ceiling as he snored loudly. Luckily, the old monk was too busy with his speech to pay any attention to the pages.
Thom couldn't help but find himself distracted from the lesson. Enviously, he eyed Jonathan and Francis,
wishing he could have the luxury to sleep. Of course, judging by his luck – he didn't have very much – he would get caught the minute he started dozing off.
Looking around the room, Thom noticed a few pages wide-awake. He observed a smirking Gary crumpling a piece of parchment and throwing it against the back of Raoul's head in an attempt to distract the quiet page. Raoul, who had been sitting in front of Gary, spun around and scowled at the smirking youth.
Meanwhile, Alex was scribbling notes down on his parchment, looking bored as he glanced up at the monk from time to time.
"Trebond!"
Thom jumped from his seat and snapped his head back towards the Mithran priest. From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Jonathan knocking a few of his books aside as he jolted awake. Francis fell back with his chair and landed with a loud "plop!" on the floor.
"You will learn algebra by carefully studying your book, not by gawking stupidly around the room!" the Mithran priest snapped sternly.
Thom blushed slightly and scowled at the old monk. "Tell that to Raoul and Gary over there," he muttered under his breath.
From the corner of the room, another crumpled piece of parchment zoomed through the air and made contact with Raoul's head. Thom heard a suppressed snicker and the shifting of a chair. Suddenly, he jumped once again as a loud, and rather high-pitched, yelp broke the droning monk's voice.
"Naxen! Goldenlake!"
The bell gave a loud ring, ending class suddenly. With a sigh of relief, Thom hurried out of the room, trying his best to avoid Gary as much as possible.
"Blast it! How'd I end up in trouble with you!" Roaul growled bitterly, walking behind Thom.
Gary limped out of class, his hands suddenly clasping down on Thom's shoulder. "Don't look at me! You're the one who kicked me!" he snapped, continuing to limp forward.
Thom tried to shake off the large page's grip from his already sore shoulder. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you deserved it," he snapped heatedly, heading towards the next class.
Gary put an innocent face, pointing to himself. "Who me?"
Thom shot the smiling page a murderous glare. "Don't think I don't remember this morning. You and your wake up call."
Raoul threw Thom a curious look before turning to look at Gary. "What happened?" he asked curiously.
Gary gave a nervous chuckle as he scratched the back of his head. "Hehe…it was only a small wake up call. Nothing to worry about, really," he said quickly, trying to limp away.
"Nothing? Nothing! You broke into my room, no thanks to Coram! Then you literally throw me out of bed and tied me to a chair!" Thom snapped. Throwing another death glare at Gary.
"You wouldn't eat!" Gary said, smirking evilly. "It'll never do you any good if you train on an empty stomach."
"Yes, well it would've helped of you hadn't shoved an apple down my throat," Thom grumbled, still in a sour mood.
Roaul chuckled heartily and clapped his hands on Thom's and Gary's shoulders. "I sense the start of a beautiful friendship. Now hurry. We're going to be late."
For once Thom agreed and picked up the pace. As he rushed down the corridors with the two big pages, he couldn't help but feel somewhat 'included'…whatever that meant.
"Come on, Trebond! Stop dilly-dallying. This is a weapon, not a plaything. Shoot!"
Thom flushed with embarrassment, turning a deep shade of red. In his hands, he gripped the bow tightly while drawing an arrow from his quiver. His hands shook as he tried to steady his bow. Fumbling with the string, he accidentally dropped the arrow.
"What's the matter, Trebond? Never touch a bow and arrow before? Move!" barked the instructor.
It was another day of archery, and Thom was in no better shape then he was the previous day. His instructor had made him practice the proper stance for shooting a bow and all the other basic steps in archery. But no matter how hard he tried, Thom found no conviction to the activity whatsoever. Thom wasn't bad at archery. He just wasn't…ready.
Stupid arrow. Stupid piece of–
"Draw!"
Thom groaned and drew out another arrow from his quiver. This time, he drew the arrow up properly.
"Steady, lad, steady."
The redhead carefully steadied his grip and aimed carefully at the target before him. He drew the string. Pointed. Fired…Missed.
The instructor snatched the bow from Thom's hands and held it up firmly before the page. "This is how you hold a bow. And this," he said, plucking and arrow from Thom's quiver, "is how to shoot." He drew the arrow along the string and fired. The arrow zoomed into the air and hit the target at the center.
The instructor handed the bow back to Thom. "Now practice. By the end of this week, I expect you to shoot properly and hit the target."
"'Shoot properly and hit the target! Shoot properly and hit the target!'" Thom mimicked to himself angrily as he balanced two trays in his hands. "I'll show you, you cranky old man," he grumbled, placing the trays on the table.
"Who's cranky?" a voice spoke up suddenly.
Thom yelped, whirled around, and found himself face to face with a rather handsome man with a rugged face and high cheek bones. He looked to be in his mid-twenties and sported a dark tan and a few scars along his very musculararms. Dead! I'm dead now! He's going to hit me!
The man wore a boyish grin on his face and gave an amused laugh as Thom paled. "You act as if I'm going to eat you," he remarked playfully, running a hand through his untidy black hair.
Thom gulped and gave the older man a bow. "Sir," he mumbled before heading back into the kitchens. On his way, he spotted Gary leaning against the door, his eyes glazing over. Moving towards him, Thom quietly asked, "Gary, who is that man standing over there? The one with all those scars on his arms?"
Gary looked over the crowd for a moment, trying to pinpoint who Thom was indicating. Finally spotting the man, Gary grinned and replied, "That's the Shang Falcon. I hear he's to stay in the palace for a while."
Thom glanced at the prince, a curious look rising to his face. "Oh really? How do you know for sure?" he asked, absentmindedly holding up a tray another page had shoved in his hand.
"I overheard father talking about it this morning. He mentioned something about us learning a thing or two in Shang fighting."
Great. More ways to break bones, Thom thought glumly, suppressing the urge to slam his head against the door in hopes of knocking himself unconscious.
"Mithros, boy! What are you doing? Stop day-dreaming and bring this to the table!" the cranky etiquette master barked, shoving another tray of food under Thom's nose. "Now don't look at me that way! Off you go!"
Thom was ready to kill him. Grumbling to himself, he was off once again to the table he had been assigned to, a steaming plate in his hands. Placing the plate onto the table, he finally noticed the Shang Falcon look up at him from the table, his boyish grin still planted on the corners of his mouth.
He smiles too much, Thom thought to himself, meeting the man's dark eyes.
"We meet again, purple eyes," the Falcon said, smiling broadly now. He turned to glance at his companions seated at the table with him and added, "It's not everyday you see a lad with purple eyes, now is it?"
"Yes…very unusual eyes," one of his friends commented softly.
Thom looked up to see a very attractive woman with dark brown eyes staring at him curiously. He didn't like being stared at so.
The woman did not seem to notice his discomfort and tilted her head slightly to the side. "What is your name, page?" she asked.
"Thom of Trebond, your ladyship," Thom replied as politely as he could, fighting the urge to make a face.
The woman gave a nod and curled her pretty lips into a smile. "Ah, a Trebond," she said approvingly. "Well, I should hope to see you more often at Court, young Trebond. But for now, I wouldn't want to keep you from your duties." And with that, she gave the slightest of nods, sending Thom back into the kitchen.
As Thom departed for the kitchen once again, he couldn't shake off a feeling of dread spreading throughout his entire body. For some strange reason, he knew it would not be the last time he would see that woman. But somehow, their next encounter would be that of a tragedy.
Author's Note: Yeah, I can tell there was a lot of fluff going on in this chapter. To be honest, I added the fluff to make the chapter seem a little longer, and I wanted people to get the feel of Thom's interactions with the other characters in the story. Anyway, please RnR! Thank you!