Inheritance

Part 2. Chapter 53: Like a Man

Eory woke up feeling well rested, but guilty.

He felt the need to hide himself under his blankets—to hide from the judgement of the other recruits--despite the fact that they did not yet know that he wouldn't be accompanying them to the battlefield.

Out in the corridor, he could hear the other recruits shuffling out into the hallway between yawns and 'good mornings'. There was hushed, nervous whispering about their first day on the battlefield as well as other idle chatter beyond his door.

He couldn't decide whether the pain and guilt of staying behind while the other recruits fought was greater, or the white fear he felt when he thought of joining them on the battlefield was greater.

His imagination took hold; he could hear steel-on-steel and envision arrows flying past his head. He saw himself dying in a dozen painful ways. He scared himself to such a degree that his pulse had quickened; he had trouble breathing in deep breaths.

I don't want to die... He thought to himself as he huddled under his blankets. I'm such a coward. Taylor was right.

He wondered if Taylor still lingered within him or whether she was gone for good. He wondered if he could weather life's cruelty without having her to hide behind.

He heard a knock on his door. "Eory? Are you coming to the baths?"

It was Pollyanna.

He was too embarrassed—too ashamed—to inform her that he wasn't coming.

"Eory...?" Pollyanna's voice was hushed and worried when he didn't reply.

She twisted the knob--swinging the door wide.

"Eory!" She called urgently.

The old woman swept his blankets aside—revealing a despondent young man underneath. She sighed, relieved that he was okay. "Thank Renthas... You're alright."

Eory hid his face in his sheets in shame.

Pollyanna placed a gentle hand on the back of his head. She was not good at consoling the weak, but that didn't stop her from trying to console someone she was fond of. "What's wrong...?"

Eory managed not to cry—he wanted to be done with tears. I must be brave like a man. He lifted himself to a sitting position—trying to be brave. "I... Won't be joining you on the battlefield."

Pollyanna was confused. "Eory, you have to. If you don't, it gives them the right to execute you."

Eory pulled his knees up to his chest. He wouldn't look her in the eyes. "Maruka told me I didn't have to go. I'm going to use my time with him to help us figure out a way to destroy the doppelgangers."

Pollyanna was silent. She didn't look at him with scorn or anger; she looked lost and almost worried. "I see."

In a moment, she laughed. "I'm a little relieved, to be honest..."

Eory was shocked. "You are?"

Pollyanna reached out a wrinkled hand and placed it on Eory's cheek. "Of course. I don't want you to get hurt. You'll be safe inside."

A relaxed smile came to Eory's face. He leaned his smooth, white skin into her dark, wrinkled hand. "You don't think I'm a coward?"

Pollyanna shook her head. "Of course not. It would be folly for you to step onto the battlefield right now; you haven't been trained well enough. Besides, all I want to do is keep you safe."

Eory cried tears of joy. "You're so good and sweet to me... You're the only one I can trust—the only one who understands."

Pollyanna went numb with pleasure when he kissed her palm and then one of her fingers; her skin tingled with a delight that she hadn't felt since she was fourteen-years-old.