Chapter: Chilling Memories: 3 of ?

Author: Sam

Series: A Deeper Magic

Last Chapter: Wyatt and Jeb receive news of a possible coup. Dylan introduced.

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A shudder ran through his body as water licked over his fresh scabs. Kneeling by the swift running river, Zero dipped his hands again into the clear water, splashing it over his over-heated face and head. He let it drip down his dark blond hair and over his muscular shoulders, running down his tanned, scarred back in chilling rivulets. The icy wetness brought him back: he closed weary gray eyes, focusing on the long forgotten images forming in his mind.

The lake country looked like, in a word, paradise. Grass as green and full as the surrounding trees ran with a wild mix of multi-colored flowers. Water lilies spread across the blue waters like the clouds reflected from above. Pleasure cottages dotted the lakesides. At one lake the home rose pearl-colored and vast: a miniature palace for the summer indulgence of the ruling family.

Mother didn't stop once to admire the beauty, to smell the aromas, to enjoy the birdsongs.

He followed behind, scuffing his feet along the faded wood of the dock. His collar felt too tight, but he knew that if he loosened the button Mother would see. He'd rather put up with a choking collar than her wrath.

Above them, on a slight rise, perched a white and gold pavilion with a bench-swing. One of the Viewer people squatted by the pavilion, dressed in fur despite the summer heat. Three adults, two dark, the third blond, strolled towards them dressed in more finery than even the stores of Central City displayed. He felt poor and disgusting in the simple cotton frock coat and knee breeches. His discomfort reached its zenith when a little girl ran past the adults. Black ringlets bounced over her neck and shoulders and her deep blue dress looked like a party dress, not play clothes.

"Straighten up, child." Mother's tone reminded him of an angry dog he'd met once.

He straightened and stepped forward, stopping quickly as Mother drew up sharp midway down the dock.

The girl seemed too excited to check herself and pelted onto the smooth, age-worn planks. "Hello. I'm Azkade… Oh!" Finding no purchase for her satin slippers, the girl slid on the old dock. With a shrill wail, she tumbled over the side and into the chilly waters.

"Az!" The three adults ran forward as the Viewer leapt from his crouch, sprinted down the sloping lawn, and splashed into the lake.

Without thought of what Mother might say, he leapt over the edge of the dock and into the crystalline waters. Keeping his eyes open and steady on the blue satin, he pushed himself deeper. He reached out and grabbed the first part of the little girl he could reach: her thick curls. Wrapping a strong, work-calloused hand around what felt like wet silk, he tugged hard. The pull of the water worked against him and he tugged harder, regretting the pain it might cause her. When she came close enough, he wrapped his arms around her and kicked hard. As she clutched him, hands clawing his neck in desperation, he forced them towards the surface.

They broke the water, both gasping for air. Az started crying.

Many hands appeared, gasped, and lifted the pair from the water. The blond man took the little girl, while Mother helped him up. Her hand crushed his fingers, a warning of repercussions to come . . as if he'd tripped the child.

"My Azkadellia!" The brunette woman cried, clutching at her daughter.

"I do hope she won't take a chill." Was that concerned tone coming from Mother?

He looked at her, shock widening slate-colored eyes.

"And I do hope my little zero didn't hurt her too badly." As if in after-thought, mother winced. . . too late; the damage from her slip-up had already been made.

The queen, for now that he got a chance to process things he realized that the worried woman was indeed the queen, turned to him. "Your name is Zero?"

He opened his mouth to correct her but fell silent when Mother squeezed his fingers again.

Mother's voice held something akin to pleasure. "Yes. His name is Zero. He's going to train in the army, Your Majesty."

"Surely he's too young for my army?" With a soft smile, the queen placed a hand on the newly dubbed Zero's head.

Mother cleared her throat. Was she actually nervous? Had she realized that the queen believed that insult was his name? But Mother didn't take it back, didn't apologize and explain that she had been calling her son Zero out of anger. Instead, Mother smiled . . . actually smiled . . . and said "he's twelve annuals, Your Majesty. And his father was in the military . . ."

The royal consort, Zero could now see that the blond man must be Ahamo, continued to hold his shivering daughter. He smiled at Mother and laughed. "He can't join until he's seventeen. But, as you're going to relieve Ambrose of his tutoring duties, your son is welcome to stay. He can play with Azkadellia when he's not studying."

Reluctantly accepting that he would probably be known as Zero the rest of his life, he studied the little girl. Play with a four year old? Was the Consort joking? He'd rather be fighting than playing with dolls. Besides, being near the princess meant being near Mother, and he looked forward to escaping the bitter insults and painful corrections she liberally doled out on her son.

Mother, however, seemed to like the idea of keeping her despised offspring with her . . . if it meant assurance that she'd get the royal post of Magical Tutor. She nodded, almost too eagerly. "Why, that is a splendid idea, Your Grace." She let go of her son's hand, snatching her fingers away as if he'd scalded her. "He can make sure no one hurts her. Protecting your daughter will be perfect training for his future." She turned a sharp look on her son.

He once more opened his mouth to answer but a wet hand on his interrupted. The Viewer gripped his hand, shaking it. Looking out of dark eyes, fringe of black hair dripping, the Viewer suddenly grinned. "Loyal . . ." his smile lessened. "Hard future . . . hard decisions . . . much grief . . ." The smile disappeared completely as the Viewer stared intently into his eyes. "Violent . . ."

"Lilo!"

Ahamo's voice broke the Viewer's concentration, and the man let him go with one last "but loyal."

Water ran from his dark blonde hair, into his collar, mixing with fresh blood. . .

. . . a chill shook Zero's body and he dropped the memories. He reached for his shirt and eased it over aching muscles and barely healing gashes. There was no time for daydreaming about events over twenty-three annuals ago. He had to find Azkadellia.

He had a mission to accomplish.

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Continued in Chapter Four: Planting Seeds of Rebellion