Changes: The Monk and the Princess ch. 1

Soletus hated every word he read. A treatise on Drass Beasts, more like A Egotistical Rant from an Elf Trying to Sound Smart. It wasted his time. Yet he forced himself to comb through the book he held above his head. He wasn’t about to quit. He had dropped a single book Brother Hickory made him read yet. There could have been insight there, if he crossed his eyes a bit. Also, he was trying to take up time. He needed to see the Patriarch and he didn’t want to arrive too early. Anything else in the training field he could have done would have been to time consuming. He didn’t want that. However, the longer he pushed, reading turned to skimming and skimming turned to his mind wondering.

     He rolled his eyes towards the window behind his head. The afternoon light brightened his iris, revealing them to be a lapis blue. Though the light did little to brighten his hair. It lacked the warmth that so many Fen elves had in their hair shades. Usually, he made up for it in styling. Though that day, he didn’t braid it and neither did he feel like wearing it down. He wasn’t on duty still and wore it in a lazy elf low ponytail.

     He decided he had enough of reading and laid the book open over his face. Before he got settled into his nap, Brother Hickory strolled inside his workroom. The priest never wore a robe, so there was no flapping of fabric as he walked past. His heavy steps on the floorboards was all Soletus heard. The aged priest stopped in mid-stride to take in the slumped young monk in his armchair. His long legs dangled over an armrest while his head rested on the other.

     “How are you even comfortable like that,” asked Brother Hickory while settling down in his chair behind his desk.

     Soletus shrugged. He was quite comfortable.

     “You’ve gotten pretty far in that tome,” said Hickory, rolling the sleeves of his white shirt up.

     “And this is as far as I’m going to go,” he returned.

     “Well, this is the first book you’ve given up on. And you claimed not to enjoy reading.”

     Soletus plucked the book off his face and laid it on his chest along with a piece of tao stone that was resting there. “It’s not that I don’t like reading, I don’t like being bored. This book, for example, is a boring paper weight. I don’t know how Grosswing is held in high regards.”

     Hickory leaned forward on his desk for his inkwell. He pulled out a blank parchment and said with a chuckle. “You’re such a critic.”

     “He over-simplifies drass beasts to the point it’s wrong and spends the rest of his time regaling his youth!”

     The corners of Hickory’s mouth lifted. “And opinionated. He can’t be too terribly incorrect. He established our system of classification.”

     “Having everything being a skulker, behemoth, or husk is inadequate and archaic,” grumbled Soletus. “I thought you said you found something interesting not irritating.”

     “I was trying to be supportive of your interests since you rebelled hard on poetry.”

     “Because you were torturing me with love poems,” he told him, and saw the priest’s his teal eyes laughing at him.

     “I thought they would give you insight on the love smitten customary elf.”

     Soletus let out a snort. He sat the book on the end table by his feet and then picked up the stone that rested there. It was a piece of imbued tao stone called a light stone. Vlory, the kanu woman he helped rescue by kidnapping several months ago, had made it.

She was learning to use her abilities again and had been practicing by showing other chanters how to imbue tao stone as well. She gave him the stone in hopes it would be useful for him. To activate it, all he had to do was blow on it as well as to wink it out. He did so then and watched it flicker to life. Then continued flickering.

     Hickory tilted his head in curiosity. “I should go visit Vlory soon,” he said and gestured to him to pass the stone. Soletus tossed it to him. “She’s been doing a lot better.”

     “It’s sad she has to relearn everything she knew as a chanter,” said Soletus.

     He often visited the kanu chanter as well as his bandmates involved. Soletus was most pleased to see her getting stronger. He enjoyed the fact that she lived and relieved he didn’t have to kill her because of the corruption in her blood.

     “With such a change to one’s body and soul, you cannot expect to be the same person and chanter you were before. She’ll likely have to go through another edict,” explained the priest. He blew on the stone, and it went out before it flickered back to life again. His brow wrinkled. He blew on it again. It went out and then flickered to life again. “Anyway, can I make an observation about you?”

     “If your observation is that I’m annoyed, you’re right,” admitted Soletus. There was no point in lying to him. It wasn’t because the aged priest was a justice chanter could detect a lie easily. No, if he denied it, Hickory would turn into a secession. He didn’t want to get into a deeper discussion about his feelings. He just wanted to be in a quiet space for a bit. The was a time he loved being around others and hated the stillness. However, after Lyndon’s death, he grew to appreciate it.

     “So, what has irritated you?”

     It’s a secession anyway, he thought with an internal sigh. “Stupid dods who think they're funny.”

     “Oh?”

     Soletus sat up. “I found a gift on my bed. A clay phallus that had a note that said, ‘use this instead.’ I was so thrilled about it, I wanted to thank the dod who done it. He was easy to find as he was making a good impression of a donkey in the common. So, I showed him my appreciation with my fist.”

     “Soletus,” chided Hickory.

     The young monk gave him a looked of innocence. “I didn’t hit him. I simply stuck the wall beside his head.”

     Hickory gave him the look of a disappointed father. “Sol, really.”

     “There’re no rules stating I can’t punch a wall.”

     The priest shouldn’t have been surprised. He knew Soletus had grown less tolerant of stupid behavior because he had a shorter temper now. Hickory told him he was over-compensating. He didn’t need to protect and defend himself so much. It was hard as he didn’t want to be taken advantage of like what happen months ago that led to his cousin’s death.

     His death sent, what his father rightly described, an icy dagger through his heart. He went numb. It was hard to care. During his journey after the tragedy, the only thing he cared about was his remaining bandmates back to the safety of the town. He didn’t care if he hurt another if they tried to hurt them or someone else. He didn’t care that he shot Cole’s consort, a raven, from the sky as he tried to bribe them. He didn’t care about that mercenary that threatened his father until he sent his own consort to attack her. And even still, that haze remained.

     The full extent of how much it clouded his mind manifested when he was ready to kill the person who was the cause, First Warden Kellas. It was he who led them into the gorge that was his cousin’s grave. It was only afterwards he realized he was crossing a line he didn’t need to breach. Then he became almost apathetic. It was just hard to get up. His parents made him talk to Hickory. After all, he promised that he would.

     Soletus was hesitant as he believed talking to the older neth male would consist of lecturing, praying, and meditating. Overall, make him feel as if there was something wrong with him and making all the shame much worse. That he needed to be fixed. There was praying and learning better meditation techniques than the master taught. But not lecturing. There was a lot of talking, however, there was a lot of laughing. A lot of stories about the life of a man that was known for what he did and not much of who he was.

He was just as kind as he appeared. And had the wisdom of an elder. Soletus, though, saw a shade of his surliness. That sharpness came out with folks who lied. And the one thing they had in common was they both had a sweet tooth. Though Hickory had a bit of a belly. However, Soletus was a monk, and one, even though off duty, was still actively training. Soletus helped him with that in exchange for Hickory to give him books to read for quiet time. He showed him how to do simple forms with his body weight to improve his mobility. The priest couldn’t do one armed pull-up but, he was the thinnest he had been in a long time.

     And there was one more reason he and hickory spent time together. Hickory needed to educate him on what it meant to be neth and how it benefited the order. Soletus was raised customary. The only other neth male he knew was Enforcer Icus. He pretended to be customary to further his own advancement in the Brotherhood, thus didn’t want to help him. If there were more, then they hide as well as. Most males were ashamed of being neth. Hickory helped him to not feel that way.

     It started with truly learning about Prophetess Lenneth. He knew that as a reward for her service, Dias, told her that may not have had children in life, but she would have more children than any woman would ever have. And her children, the neth, would carry her strength and wisdom. Lenneth was not a weak priestess. Anyone that knew a sliver about her would be proud to carry her legacy. However, Hickory made it clear his path wouldn’t be exactly like hers, but he had a place. And the order would benefit from it.

However, over the centuries, two misconceptions became the fact that he had to fight against. In the world, many claimed only females could be neth. Neth males didn’t exist. They were unicorns. However, those who acknowledge their existence felt it to be a weakness to be frowned upon. That belief seeped into the order and infected it. Hickory wanted the ignorance to stop. And that was the burden on Soletus’ shoulders, as he was the only neth monk that admitted the truth. He didn’t like it, but he understood. If it helped stop dods believing his genitalia withered away and he was eunuch would go away. Then again, they were afraid to go near him and he made it a point to always touch them.

     Hickory then told him. “I can talk to Icus about what was done.”

     Soletus swayed his head. “So, he can tell me to get over it? No. I can handle fresh warders who think they are funny.”

     “I don’t want you to get into a fight about it.”

     “Don’t worry. I’ve started practicing the art of the staff discussion. Papa told me when in disagreement, spar it out.”

     Hickory wore a knowing smile. “And assuring you always win.”

     Soletus chuckled while he stood to slip his shoes back on. “Right about that. They’ll beat me if they trained more and spend less time watching girls.”

     “You’re heading off already?”

     “The Patriarch wanted me to see him at the monastery any time before dinner,” he said, straightening up his appearance.

     “Oh, you’re not eating with him tonight?”

     “No Sir. If I ate dinner there, I’ll be tempted to spend the night,” he said. ”I’m still being a big boy and sleeping in my dorm room.“

     Hickory nodded with approval. “So, this makes what, the sixth night you have. It’s not so bad, is it?”

     “No,” he admitted. “The room switch helped, and Tyrus and Fenris aren’t bad roommates. Just messy. Their first room inspection with me there is going to be rough. I’ve warned them.” Being the Arch Monk’s grandson didn’t have a lot of perks. Just everyone being harder on him and, by extension, his roommates.

     Soletus said his goodbyes and left. He had no idea of what the Patriarch wanted. He didn’t even know why the Patriarch was where he had found him. It took some questioning to find him out in the training fields. Others watched from afar with him being the only one closely watching the middle-aged elf sparing with Master Tyr. Soletus didn’t know whom he felt sorry for as he leaned on the fence. The Patriarch, who kept stepping back, causing him to fight in a circle while parrying Tyr. Or Tyr because he yelled at warders who did such things when they did not know what they were doing. Master Tyr stopped and forced the end of his staff into the ground and exclaimed loudly, “How is it possible that you’ve gotten worse?”

     “I’m unpracticed,” offered the Patriarch with a winning grin that had no effect on Master Tyr's exasperation.

     “This isn’t unpracticed! A babe can defend better than you. At this rate, we are going to have to have a personal bodyguard always following you, even when you sleep.”

     “You know my lady won’t stand for that,” said the Patriarch, still with a mild smile.

     The master monk took the staff from his hands and pointed the tip at his nose. “We’re going to do this every evening until we leave. I want you to not only disarm me but disable me as well. I’ll end here for today seeing. You’ve a guest, cousin.”

     The Patriarch caught sight of Soletus and waved him over. The young monk vaulted over the fence and acknowledged Master Tyr with a curt nod. He focused his attention on the Patriarch. One of the few older adults he respected. He wasn’t the strongest looking man. In fact, Lord Kharis was built for the royal court than the monastery. He was a noble by blood and had the refinement of one. Right then he was in a sleeveless training shirt and trouser covered in dust and sweat. He didn’t have his spectacle on then and used his handkerchief he used to clean them to wipe his brow.

     “It’s unusual to see you here,” he said.

     The Patriarch spoke while cleaning his face. “It’s necessary at the moment that I brush up on my fighting skills. I’m, sadly, a shade of Tyr and probably not even in the same class as you.”

     Soletus became immediately suspicious at the compliment. “You would improve if you weren’t so afraid of his staff,” he told him.

     The older man beamed at him. “You always have excellent insight. That is probably due to the fact that you are intelligent with good manners to boot.”

     Soletus arched his brow. “No need to flatter. You want me to do something I’m not going to like.”

     The Patriarch chuckled. “Very astute of you. I know Briar educated you, though mockingly, about the formal gathering. It’s time for the Western Summit. I choose several worthy monks to attend. The best of the best. I want you to come.”

     Soletus was stunned. He hadn’t expected that at all. The only thing he could say rolled out of his mouth. “I’m not on the roster right now.”

     “Don’t you think it’s time you place yourself on it again,” he questioned, “There is no better time than this. The conference is only held every five years. The mayors, large landholders of significance, governors, and other houses, both minor and major, will be meeting at my house’s estate to report about the region. Solgard and I will be going. We’ve reports to give, tax rates to re-calculate for the province, drass beast summaries for the last five years, and other tiresome activities that numb the mind. There will be representatives of the priesthood going as well. Brother Rastor will attend as Brother Lorthan can’t. Sister Kiao is coming so we can show off a well-trained healer. There will be a representative of the Seat there as well. Not the King himself, but Princess Silva and his Right Hand from House Aquilia.”

     A knot of unease formed in his chest. There was no reason for his trepidation, but it was there, and he didn’t like it. He ignored it and would come back to it later.

     “So, you want me to come because Briar thought it would be funny to watch me squirm?”

     “Also, I want to make a good show. You are a very impressive looking young man. Also, for protection,” he said, ending his statement grimly, and folded his arms behind his back. “There have been several threats towards my House. Someone wants a Gyrfalcon head.”

     “Should you be going if that’s the case?”

     “My family hosts the conference and this one particularly is important. It’s the reasons for the threats. My mother is choosing her successor. I’m expected to be there. Since she’s a late winter hen, I want to see her. There aren’t a lot of seasons ahead of her.”

     “I’m sorry to hear that.”

     “We all live and die. Her time is coming up.”

     Soletus didn’t need the reminder. He had spent all winter, and it was now going on mid-spring because Lyndon’s death haunted him. He hadn’t had a taste for being a field warden again. Kellas’s actions had taken away his desire to be a warden. Yet he was conflicted. There wasn’t anything else he wanted to do. The other day, he found himself on the way to speak to his grandfather about being placed back on the roster. However, he talked himself out of it.

     “Even with the threats, it’s probably going to be uneventful. Maybe a little dull for you,” the Patriarch.

     Doubt also joined the unease. However, a clarity rose up. His heart was telling him to go.

     “What will I be doing?”

     The corners of the Patriarch’s eyes crinkled. “I want you part of the guard for the women.”

     It was then the young monk became confused. “The women? And not your honor guard?”

     “Honestly, I would love to have you, but your father agreed to come as well. He said no at, first then came back and gave a condition.”

     “And that’s what?”

     “He asked for me to convince you to come and you to be given a meaningful role.”

     “And that’s the women?”

     “It’s very important to me that my wife and child are safe and your mother, our lovely priestess, and others who are coming. You will be in a band of five. I believe Master Yunus is going to be acting First Warden and you’ll be acting second for him. Your father is taken up the mantle of Chief Warden during this operation. He will be your overall authority.”

     Soletus couldn’t say that he ever wanted to be in a leading position again. He could see why his father avoided leadership roles. There was this pressure to get everything right and not make mistakes. He barely handled it being pushed on him months ago. Now he was going to do it purposely.

     “Aside from that, there will be a feast held every night, and on the last night, a dance. At dinner, you will sit with the Arch Monk. It’s a tradition that you bring a young lady.”

     Soletus made a face.

     Lord Kharis gave him a reassuring grin. “You’ll be with Briar. She’s fine with it, given its you or a cousin. She doesn’t want that.”

     “I guess that’ll work.”

     The Patriarch’s brow rose. “So that means you are going?”

     “I’ll have to think about it,” answered Soletus. He didn’t know if he was ready to go on the road again or not.
 

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Next Chapter

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Author's Commentary

I will have to admit, this chapter was edited a bit heavily in the middle to make it more digestible. This story didn't have as many edits and revisions as it should have. However, I guess I've done them now.