Skwyr Court

howtohelp

The birds chirped an early morning song. A warm breeze drifted lazily through the air. Oshal smiled, feeling the sun on his face. Even if he couldn’t see it anymore, at least he knew it was there.

On that particular morning, he was in the city with Roshil and their father. He hoped that as they grew older, they could still spend time together like this, even if he and Roshil were assigned to different cities in the kingdom.

On this outing, they had company. While Roshil and their father walked ahead of him, Master Durwey and Grand Master Gorkle walked behind them. They spoke in hushed tones that Oshal couldn’t hear well, but he wasn’t interested in what they were saying.

Nourd walked beside him, asking a volley of questions.

“Why are there so many human dwellings?” Nourd asked, pointing at the buildings.

“They aren’t all dwellings,” Oshal replied. “You can buy things in many of them, like food.”

“Humans hunt the forest creatures for their food,” Nourd said. “They slaughter them with their human weapons.”

Something about which Oshal had been warned beforehand was that while Nourd could speak and understand their language thanks to his druid abilities, relying entirely on them for human speech meant that his words came out sounding “strange”. Oshal didn’t see anything strange about it; it was just a little different than everyone else, like everyone in his family. To him, Nourd fit right in.

“We must get approval from Mother before doing any hunting,” Grand Master Gorkle said, “and are careful to only hunt as much as we need.”

While Oshal could sense both Grand Master Gorkle’s and Nourd’s dislike of his sister’s presence, he was grateful to have them both. He liked spending time with Nourd, who was far less complicated than anyone else at the castle, and Grand Master Gorkle could supply answers that satisfied Nourd better than Oshal could.

Roshil still wasn’t back to her normal self. Master Durwey had been the one to explain what was going on with Roshil and why she hadn’t been allowed to move around unsupervised for the past few weeks. Oshal had had the idea to go out with their father to cheer her up after her privileges had been restored a few days ago. Oshal had mentioned it to Nourd, Nourd had wanted to spend time with Oshal, and Grand Master Gorkle thought it would be good to help ease Nourd into the court while supervised. It would also help him to spend time with both Oshal and Roshil, to understand that Roshil wasn’t out to get anyone (which Oshal had tried to explain to Nourd multiple times, without success).

“We also get food from plants sometimes,” his father called back to them. “And sweets. We also have sweets.”

“What are ‘sweets’?” Nourd asked. “I am unfamiliar with that word.”

“They’re a little like honey,” Grand Master Gorkle said.

This filled Nourd with curiosity and a little excitement.

“I would like to consume one of these ‘sweets’. Where can I obtain one?”

There was little distance between Nourd’s feelings and his actions. While this made Master Durwey a little nervous (hence her presence with them), it made Oshal happy. Whenever something bothered Roshil, it took him days to navigate her feelings, especially when she realized it and shut him out of her emotions (something their mother had taught them both). Even with the new friends he’d made at the court in the past few years, it took time to figure out what was bothering them. If something bothered Nourd, he said it within moments of being bothered.

“You’ll have to be patient,” Grand Master Gorkle said. “Perhaps when we stop for lunch.”

“Why would we stop to get lunch? Won’t our lunch run away if we stop?”

“I hope not,” Oshal’s father said. “I don’t think my lunch has ever stood up and run away from me before. Not of its own accord, anyway.”

“Why must we be patient if we are not hunting for our food?”

“We don’t eat whenever we want,” Grand Master Gorkle said. “We don’t have to keep hunting for food. It’s available to us whenever we want it. Remember? We’ve talked about this before.”

“This place is confusing. I do not like that.”

While Nourd’s emotions flowed freely, Roshil’s stayed fairly consistent. If she’d been in a children’s picture book, there’d have been a black cloud hanging over her head. Oshal kept hoping that being with their father would make her happy again, but her misery was stubborn. Oshal and their father had made attempts to get her interested in anything, but they had yet to be successful.

As they walked past the forge, their father pointed it out to Roshil.

“I’ve seen it,” she said.

Oshal remembered the boundless enthusiasm Roshil had had when she’d first seen the forge. It had been like an explosion of rainbows in her head. Nothing had interested her more in the court than the forge. Oshal had seen her knit, build, and whittle, anything she could do to make something, but living on the move, they’d never had access to a forge. It’d been all Roshil talked about for months.

Now she felt empty, like she didn’t have any happiness left in her.

I must be able to do something.

Something occurred to him. An idea. A small way he could help his sister.

He concentrated on his happy memories. His joy at spending time with friends. The satisfaction of knowing he’d made people happy. While staying carefully closed off from everyone else, he focused on Roshil, and on seeing her happy.

His joy passed along her thread, channeling into her. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get through to her.

“Master Grund said I can start learning about enchantments,” she said. “He… he doesn’t… I’m not old enough to start enchanting anything yet, but he said I’ll have to learn eventually.”

Oshal smiled, happy that his sister was happy again.

“I do not like human magic,” Nourd said. “It is not the way of the forest.”

“It’s okay,” Oshal said. “Roshil’s responsible about it, like everyone else at the court.”

Oshal was pleased with himself. He wove happiness into Roshil, and everything had turned out okay. There was nothing to worry about.

#VolumeTwo #HowToHelp

Oshal tapped his way to the great hall for dinner. He’d gotten used to the castle in the past two months. He ran his hand along the wall, feeling for the signs that pointed his way. Using the signs, he could find his way anywhere without help.

When he arrived, people were still taking their seats. He followed the threads of all his friends, finding out who was already there.

He picked up his sister, sitting alone. She’d been getting better in the past week. He had only needed to nudge a little happiness into her.

“Oshal!” It was the voice of Demndun, an apprentice mage, like Aonva. She was in her third year, if he remembered correctly. She walked over to him and took his hand. “Come on.”

Oshal allowed her to lead him over to where a few other apprentices were sitting together. He sensed Cremwa, another apprentice mage a year ahead of Demndun, Muwen, an apprentice artisan the same year as Demndun, and Zifor, another weaver.

“Hello everyone,” he said quietly.

Everyone stood at attention as the officers walked in and took their seats. They were followed by His Majesty. He took his seat, signaling everyone that it was time to eat.

One regret Oshal had about not being able to see was not seeing the food appear on the tables. Roshil and Aonva had explained (each with great enthusiasm) that the tables were linked to tables in the kitchens. The spells were activated by servants down below to send the food up. It sounded exciting, especially the way they had explained it.

“How is everyone?” Oshal asked. “Zifor, how was your test?”

“Not bad,” he replied. “History’s not my thing, though.”

“What is?” Muwen said after he swallowed some of his food. “You barely scrape by.”

Zifor and Muwen had been friends for a long time. Oshal liked being near them, because they always seemed happy together. Unless the topic of Cremwa came up. As far as Oshal could tell, Muwen and Zifor were fighting over her.

“I heard,” Cremwa said, “Tabonda dumped Rakush after she caught him with Kemdra.”

“Don’t they break up every other week?” Demndun asked.

Oshal went through the names of the other apprentices. He recognized the name. Kurgm had mentioned something about Tabonda the other day.

“She was talking to Kurgm and Master Ekla,” Oshal said.

“Is Kurgm here?” Demndun asked.

Oshal felt a burst of excitement from her. He’d noticed it whenever Kurgm came up.

“Calm down,” Zifor said. “He’s not here. Again.”

“Aren’t all apprentices supposed to eat in the great hall?” Cremwa asked. Her irritation sparkled a little, mixed with a hint of smugness. While Zifor and Muwen were after her, Cremwa was after Demndun.

Oshal prided himself on being able to keep track of the tangled and confusing web of relationships formed by his new friends.

“He works hard,” Oshal said. “And he grew up here, so he has special permission to eat in the kitchens.”

“Why would you want to?” Muwen asked. “I always get out of the forge before I get stuck working through dinner.”

“Lucky you,” Cremwa said. “Master Semdm works me too hard. A girl as pretty as I am can’t always be staring at books. It’s a waste, isn’t it, Demndun?”

“Um… I guess.”

“It’s not like I’m that Master’s pet Aonva. That girl is so weird. She actually likes going to those lectures they make mages attend. And I saw her in the library yesterday. It looked like she’d made a nest out of books. And she talks to herself!”

Oshal smiled at the thought of it. Aonva was weird, but it was a nice sort of weird, like Roshil. He wondered where she was, but stopped before he started following her thread. He was trying to get out of the habit of checking up on people.

If they wanted you to know where they were, they’d tell you.

That’s what his mother had told him, and Master Durwey had said something similar. It was hard to stop himself from checking on people. Few people he knew were ever open with him. Actually, Nourd was open with him, and that was it.

Oshal followed Aonva’s thread and found her in the kitchens with Kurgm.

He checked his sister again, but sure enough, she was in the great hall with him. He only sensed one other person near her, and that was Sirshi.

Oshal sensed Sirshi sitting with Roshil. He couldn’t think of a time she’d ever arrived on time.

At least Sirshi’s sitting with her.

Roshil liked Sirshi a lot, or at least she had until recently. Roshil was still struggling. He could sense her trying to hide it. When they were younger, the same feeling would be accompanied by a fake smile, as though she thought if she smiled everything would be fine.

“Don’t mages need to read?” Zifor asked.

“Not all the time,” Cremwa said. “It’s not like weavers who get to stare into space all day.”

“We do not!” Zifor said.

“She’s got you figured out,” Muwen said, laughing.

“What about you, Oshal?” Demndun asked. “Does Our Lady Grand Weaver have you working all hours of the night?”

“Not really. I haven’t been here long, though. My sister says it gets a lot harder.”

“Her,” Muwen muttered.

Oshal sensed that none of them liked his sister, but they were all getting better. They weren’t openly mean to her anymore, at least not while Oshal was there.

“Who’s that sitting with her?” Cremwa asked.

“That’s Apprentice Sirshi,” Oshal replied. “She’s an apprentice priest in the Temple of the Rising Sun.”

“That’s a good one,” Zifor said. “My parents go there.”

“‘Oh great one’,” Muwen said. “‘Deliver unto us happy fun times’.”

“Stop it,” Zifor said, punching Muwen in the arm (while Oshal couldn’t see this, he recognized the sounds and emotions it caused). “Olmgra’s not bad.”

“It’s pointless if you ask me,” Cremwa said. “Why worship them at all? It’s not like the deities have ever done anything for us.”

“Don’t they help the court sometimes?” Demndun asked. “Like in times of peril?”

“And Olmgra’s followers help spread hope in the community,” Oshal said.

Oshal didn’t like to play favorites with people, but of his new friends, he liked Demndun a lot. She was the one who had first introduced him to the others, and she helped him get around sometimes.

As they talked, Oshal wondered about his sister. She didn’t spend time with Aonva anymore. She always seemed upset about something. She didn’t go to temple. In fact, neither of them did. Were they fighting about something? He supposed it happened to everyone at some point. At least, that’s what their father had said.

Oshal resolved to find out what was wrong. He didn’t have a plan yet, but he would come up with something. He didn’t think his other friends would help, but maybe Sirshi or Kurgm would.

He hadn’t talked with them much in the week since Sirshi was nearly forced to stop being a priest. Aonva hadn’t been at meals much since then, if at all. He’d been trying to give Roshil space. It only made her worse when something was wrong and Oshal pushed her too hard to open up about it.

After dinner, he sought out Roshil through the crowd of people. She was walking alone, Sirshi having gone off somewhere else (Oshal figured it was probably the Temple of the Rising Sun).

“Roshil?”

He sensed her misery again. He’d been weaving happiness into her all week, trying to keep up her spirits, but she was worse now than she’d been.

Roshil didn’t say anything to him. She made a halfhearted attempt at closing off her emotions from him, but it didn’t last long. A void of darkness surrounded her, sucking away happiness from the air.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, knowing the answer wouldn’t help.

“Nothing,” she said, her voice almost lost in the shuffling of people.

Oshal had to do something. Roshil had never been this bad. He wove happiness into her, but it didn’t do anything. She needed more.

He concentrated on his friends. He thought of Nourd, his father, his mother. His sister. He let the happiness build up in him until he almost started laughing, then pushed it through Roshil’s thread.

Roshil perked up. The emptiness around her withered away to nothing. She was bright and happy.

“I’m…” she started to say.

Waves of emotion surged out of her. A black pit engulfed the happiness she’d felt and crashed down on her. Whispered voices sounded from all around them.

“Roshil?”

Oshal swung his head around, wishing he could see. He felt for Roshil, but she wasn’t there anymore. The sound of whimpering from the floor told him she’d collapsed.

“Roshil!”

#VolumeTwo #HowToHelp

Medics rushed Roshil to the hospital. Oshal fell behind them without anyone to guide him. He kept checking Roshil’s thread, but he couldn’t sense anything from her.

What have I done?

His mother had told him it was dangerous to weave emotion into other people. She’d warned him not to do it. Master Durwey had warned him against it. Why hadn’t he listened?

I had to do something.

People saw him and instinctively thought he was fragile, helpless. Even before he’d lost his eyes, people had sheltered him. It wasn’t he that needed it. Oshal could stand up for himself, and there wasn’t much that bothered him. Roshil was the fragile one. She was the one that broke down easily. But this time, he’d broken her.

I’m so sorry, Roshil.

When he arrived at the hospital, someone else was already waiting for him. There was no emotion attached to it, but he sensed a towering presence, as though he were staring up at a volcano. He’d felt the same thing whenever that person came to Roshil’s mind.

“Apprentice Oshal,” Lord Grund greeted him.

“My Lord.” Oshal stood at attention. “How is she?”

“Stable,” Lord Grund growled. “What happened?”

Oshal tried to find the words to explain what had happened. How miserable Roshil had been, how he’d only been trying to help, how he hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. Before he could find the words, he sensed a sudden rush of panic enter the hospital.

The swirling mass of fear stopped for a moment, brightened as much as a candle does a maelstrom, then ran over to them.

“My Lord High Artisan,” Aonva panted. “Oshal. Our Lady Arch Mage told me something happened to Roshil. Is everything alright?” She opened her pack. “I was in the library with Our Lady Arch Mage when I heard, so I grabbed some books I’ve been reading on trauma.”

“Apprentice Aonva,” Lord Grund grumbled.

“I’m not sure how much help they’ll be,” she said, pulling out several books, “but I’ve found them rather illuminating. There’s whole chapters in this one about people that have survived dragon attacks, and this one’s got a chapter about curses.”

“Apprentice Aonva.”

“I’m sure the medics have read them, or something like them. It’ll be weavers working on her, right? Or knights talking her through it? I don’t think they’d have druids in there with her, since she isn’t hurt, and druids don’t get along with Roshil anyway.”

“Apprentice Aonva!”

Aonva squeaked and dropped her books. Her panic and concern gave way to more panic.

“My apologies, My Lord. I—”

“Stop talking.”

Aonva squeaked again, but made no other noise.

“Pick up your books.”

The sound of shuffling on the floor told Oshal that Aonva had rushed to obey Lord Grund.

“The medics don’t think this has anything to do with her trauma. They said it was euphoria overload. Have either of you seen strange behavior in her lately?”

Oshal raised his hand.

“You know what I mean, Apprentice Oshal.”

Oshal kept his hand raised.

“What?”

“What’s ‘euphoria overload’?”

Even as he asked, he realized the answer to his question. What else would it have been? He’d done this.

He heard the sound of whooshing of air next to him.

“Apprentice Aonva, care to explain?”

“Euphoria is the term given to weaving a large amount of happiness or joy into a person. Euphoria overload, sometimes called euphoria overdose, is when too much of it is woven into a person, causing him or her to have negative side effects, such as chills or episodes similar to that of trauma. While it varies from person to person—”

“I think we got it,” Lord Grund said. “I haven’t noticed anything aside from her usual behavior as of late. I haven’t been keeping as close of an eye on her as I was a few weeks ago, but I didn’t think she’d have time to leave the castle. Which means she snuck out without me knowing, which isn’t likely, or someone in the castle put it into her.”

Oshal couldn’t see Lord Grund staring at him, but he could feel it. Something inside him knew that Lord Grund already knew the answer.

“I haven’t been…” Aonva’s voice trailed off. “Oshal?”

Oshal shifted uncomfortably. He couldn’t tune out the emotions from either of them. Confusion from Aonva had overpowered panic, but the worst one came from Lord Grund. Oshal couldn’t tell if it was disappointment or shame, but it felt ugly. Like some shambling monster had raised a long finger at him and hissed “You did this”.

“I… I thought I was helping. She was so upset—”

“Of course she was upset,” Lord Grund snapped. “It’s Apprentice Roshil. She’s always upset about something. You’ve known her longer than I have, so you should know that. You should also know the best way to help her is to distract her from it until she’s ready to talk about it.”

Oshal felt small against the mountain of Lord Grund. Their mother would’ve known that. Oshal should’ve known that. But she’d been so happy for a moment, happier than she’d ever been. No, happier than he’d ever noticed her being.

“Lady Durwey will be here soon to collect you,” Lord Grund said. “She’ll take it from there. Next time you think your sister’s having trouble, either talk to her about it, or let me handle it. You are not the only one that cares. Right, Apprentice Aonva?”

Aonva squeaked again and said something that sounded like “ysmlrd”.

Lord Grund guided him to a chair, and Oshal sat down. He tried not to think that this was all his fault. Instead, he focused on the fact that Roshil would be okay.

I should’ve known better. Maybe I’ll do better next time.

Lord Grund had been right. Roshil was always upset about something, unless she’d been given a distraction. And sometimes she did talk to someone about it. Oshal always wished she’d talk to him more, but so long as she talked to someone, it was okay.

Roshil would be okay. He just had to keep telling himself that.

#VolumeTwo #HowToHelp

Master Durwey walked him out of the hospital and through the castle. Apart from the occasional guiding word, she said nothing for most of the walk. Based on the surroundings he could feel, Oshal guessed they were walking to the forest.

Oshal didn’t know what Master Durwey knew. She hadn’t asked him any questions yet, but he knew they were coming. He’d broken the rules, and he was going to be in trouble. That’s what happened when people broke the rules.

They walked through a door and into the forest. Oshal carefully tapped his way around roots and sticks. They stopped after about 20 paces. Oshal listened to the chirping birds and squirrels racing through the trees. The wind rustled the leaves over his head.

“Our Lord High Artisan told me what he thinks happened,” Master Durwey said. “He said you were worried for your sister, and so you wove happiness into her.”

“That’s right.”

“I thought you knew better than that.”

Oshal didn’t know what to say. He would’ve thought so, too. His mother had stressed many times not to do exactly what he’d done. He’d thought of her at the time, hadn’t he? What had he been thinking? He’d known it was wrong, and he’d done it anyway. Roshil had been so happy when he’d done it, and nothing else had gotten through to her.

“Court rules dictate that I’m to take away your free reign privileges until such time as I can trust you again.”

“Oh.”

“I can sense the conflict you have with yourself.” Master Durwey allowed a little concern to filter through her carefully concealed emotions. “What’s on your mind, Apprentice Oshal?”

“I think Our Lord High Artisan is mad at me.”

Master Durwey dismissed his concerns.

“He always seems like he’s mad at someone. Perhaps he’s not happy with you, but he understands, I’m sure. Before long, he’ll have moved on. That’s the thing about being an adult. You begin to learn what really matters. Lord Grund knows I’ll take care of it. He’s said his piece, and now he’s left it to me.”

Oshal nodded, still feeling small.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Of course not. My opinions of your sister aside, I know you care deeply for her. I can sense it in you. I can also sense your guilt, as I’m sure Lord Grund could. But you must understand how dangerous it is to manipulate others’ emotions, even if you have the best of intentions.”

“Roshil was so upset. I was just trying to help.”

For a moment, Master Durwey didn’t speak. Oshal didn’t sense the usual discomfort with the topic of his sister. Instead, the usual silence he felt from Master Durwey had somehow gone more silent.

“My first apprentice thought he could help people. He thought it’d be better for the court if everyone were always happy. By the time I learned that he’d changed his ideas into reality, it was too late. He was completely convinced that he was doing the right thing.”

“What happened to him?”

“That’s not the point. The point is that he did a lot of damage before we stopped him. Many people needed a lot of time to recover. Some never did. He’d infected so many people. What happened to your sister happened to nearly a hundred people in the court, and more throughout the kingdom. Our gift is dangerous, and we mustn’t abuse it, no matter what our intentions may be.”

Oshal nodded. He was beginning to understand that now. He’d lived with his gift his entire life, but never had he realized how massive it was.

“It needn’t weigh on you. You’ve got a kind heart, Oshal. I know you want to do the right thing. It’s merely my job to ensure you don’t go about it the wrong way.”

Oshal smiled. Master Durwey had been so hesitant around him at first (not unlike everyone else he’d met in the past few years), but she was alright.

“Will Roshil be okay?”

“I’m sure she’ll be back to making the court uncomfortable in no time.”

“She doesn’t mean to!”

“I’m sorry. Of course, she doesn’t. I mean there won’t be any lasting side effects. We caught it before it got out of hand. Lord Grund will see to it that she recovers and doesn’t end up in a euphoria den.”

“What’s a euphoria den?”

Master Durwey hesitated, giving Oshal the impression that she hadn’t intended to mention it to him.

“The court was built in the forest many years ago. We couldn’t expand, so the builders had to plan for a larger population. Thus, we have several buildings that aren’t being used for anything. Some weavers use these buildings to hide in, weaving happiness into other people for money. It’s illegal, but the court doesn’t want to be everywhere, less we make people nervous and paranoid. These places are called euphoria dens. It becomes a problem when people experience symptoms as Apprentice Roshil did, and a dire problem when they get addicted to it.”

Oshal nodded again, understanding why Nourd liked the forest so much. Everything was complicated in the court. He had to walk carefully, always worrying about his gift. Not checking up on people, not eavesdropping on their emotions, not forcing emotion into people. Out in the forest, everything was calm, peaceful, and simple. Birds flew by, squirrels and chipmunks played, and the trees swayed in the breeze.

“I like it here,” he said.

“I’m glad. I thought this would be a better place to talk. I don’t think punishing you is necessary.”

“I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble. I can’t go anywhere on my own anyway.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

“Can I still visit Nourd?”

“I’m sure we can arrange something. I was impressed by how well Apprentice Nourd handled being around Apprentice Roshil.”

Oshal smiled, full of pride for his friend, and hope that Nourd and Roshil could get along one day. Not only that, but maybe Roshil would be happy one day too. He wondered how she was doing. He hoped she was okay.

“May we please stay here a little longer?”

“We can stay as long as you like.”

#VolumeTwo #HowToHelp