Anarchy 4
ShiKon took the blindfold off the moment the self-important spotty-faced nerd walked out the door.
Who does he think he is, ordering me around like that? As if I’m going to sit here in some strange place, wearing a blindfold until his people are ready to deal with me?
The girl poked around the room, trying to get a sense of where she was. The whole place smelled of forest, bark and sap. Streams of multicolor string ran down the walls in a peculiar display that bordered on organically ornate. Long rustic tables lined the sides of the room, bearing scraps of wood, pieces of metal and the occasional shard of crystal.
A workshop of some sort.
Though it was quiet inside, she could sense motion around her, the motion of numerous other people. Their thoughts were quiet, too, going about day to day business. Nothing out of the ordinary feeling, considering they were supposed to be part of the Anarchy movement. This was somewhat disappointing, so she decided to inspect the objects strewn about the tables. Perhaps there was something she could pocket for later.
I wonder what they’re cooking up here.
ShiKon wasn’t sure why she chose to fall in with this group. Maybe it was the prospect of getting a decent meal – even if she had to eat and run. One meal was one more meal than she had at the start of the day.
Or maybe it was because KiNa was the first mind mage she ever met, and that meant there were more people like her out there somewhere. People who could sense feelings and speak through thoughts. Not only was he a mind mage, but he appeared to be fairly well trained.
Probably this Master SoYa guy he keeps blathering about.
Though KiNa seemed to swear by the guy, her skin prickled every time the nerd said the word “Master.”
If they’re trying to fight back against the Manor, why are they using Manor titles? What sort of guy wants to be called Master?
As if in answer to her question, the door at the far end of the room creaked open. ShiKon quickly withdrew her hand, cursing herself for not swiping something when she had the chance. Her eyes flicked towards the figure in the doorway and slowly relaxed.
The guy who approached was plain, small and overall unimpressive. Curls of hair escaped under the box-shaped hat he wore, his robes made of coarse, homemade materials. She could see a softness in his eyes that spoke of kindness interlaced with sorrow and loss. Even the smile he offered her seemed tired and frayed.
“You must be ShiKon,” he spoke with a gentle voice that fit his stature.
The girl nodded in response, not offering him more information than she had to. After all, she didn’t know how long she would be hanging around here.
“KiNa told me that you’re interested in joining our movement,” he sat down on a nearby chair. The moment he reclined, he winced and stood back up again, reaching back to remove the pointed tool he just sat on. Checking the chair over this time, he sat again and turned his attention back on the girl, looking as if the last five seconds hadn’t happened at all.
“Maybe,” ShiKon answered, offering her voice. For the first time, she realized there was an unusual silence hovering around this man. She couldn’t hear his thoughts or sense his feelings at all. It was as if he was a complete unknown.
“What part of joining our movement has you on the fence?”
Might as well get it out there.
The girl leaned forward with a tough look, “What’s in it for me?”
The man’s eyebrows lifted. He expected a conversation, but not a bartering session. When he found his voice, his words sounded like something on the back of one of the Newsletters. “We fight for freedom against the Manor’s growing power.”
“I already have that,” ShiKon leaned back again, hoping for something more enticing. Either this guy was totally unoriginal or just boringly honest.
“Do you really?” he asked, a hint of challenge in his voice.
“Sure,” she shrugged and picked at a grain of wood on the table. “If the Manor fell apart tomorrow, I’d survive. I’ve survived this long without it.”
“That’s impressive,” he patronized.
“Don’t flatter me, old man,” ShiKon called him on it quickly. She wanted him to know exactly where she stood.
He blinked in surprise.
“I don’t have time to mess around here,” she continued. “I want to speak to the leader of this joint.”
The man rubbed his chin a moment before leaning back in his chair, attempting to hide an amused smile, “I am the leader of this… uh… joint.”
It was her turn to be surprised. ShiKon didn’t try to hide the shock in her words, “You’re the mighty Master SoYa?”
He laughed softly. That’s all the confirmation she needed.
“No way! You’re absolutely nothing like I imagined,” the girl gave him a sharp look. “The Manor makes it sounds like you can chew nails and spit poison. And KiNa said you were a powerful mage, too.”
“Not everything is always what it seems,” the man, Master SoYa, shrugged. “I take it that I don’t need to try too hard for a good disguise.”
“But you work at the Manor, don’t you?” she eyed the symbol on his robes.
“All the better to keep my eye on them,” he nodded.
“That’s pretty nuts,” ShiKon informed him.
He seemed to consider that, then answered, “Everything has a risk and a cost.”
For just a moment, she could almost hear the wisdom of a rebel leader peeking through his mild-mannered appearance. Though he didn’t seem like a tough guy, she could sense one small thing through the silence – this man had a purpose that he was willing to give everything for.
That sense of duty almost made her ashamed of her own desires.
Almost.
“Yeah, I guess it does,” she said finally.
“You probably know a lot about that, living the way you do,” Master SoYa turned the conversation back on her.
She gave him a disgruntled look.
He quickly added, “And, I’m not flattering you.”
“Fine. I’ll bite,” ShiKon pursed her lips. “Yeah. It’s tough. But I can handle it. And myself. I don’t need anyone watching out for me.”
“Tough, self-motivated people are a boon to our movement,” Master SoYa told her.
“You mean, because I’m a… what was it called… mind mage?” her eyes narrowed on him.
He didn’t flinch or squirm like a guilty person might. Strangely, this man was being straight with her, “No, I mean a motivated person. Being a mind mage is a big help, too. But you’re a person, and that is more than just your abilities.”
“Cut the sentimentality,” she told him.
Master SoYa stopped talking and observed her for a long time before he spoke again, “We’ve got enough food and a safe, clean place to sleep every night.”
Now he’s talking my language.
ShiKon lifted her chin a bit, trying not to seem too interested, “What else?”
“I can teach you about your power. How to use it,” the man told her.
“I can use it already,” she frowned.
“How to use it better,” he revised quickly.
“Why should I care about that? I use it when I need it.”
“Because I know there’s more to you than spending your life as just a thief on the streets,” he finally stated, plain out and blunt. “And I think you know that, too.”
ShiKon froze, any half-concocted retort she could think up bubbling soundlessly in her throat. Part of her wanted to ask Master SoYa if he really meant those words. This was the first time anyone ever spoke with such conviction about her and the possibility for a better future. The other half of her knew that the man’s words were completely sincere, and questioning them out loud was beyond tactless.
“I’d like to believe that,” she finally said, her own façade of certainty tarnishing a bit.
“Then what’s stopping you?” he challenged in that quiet, unassuming voice.
The words extended an invitation that spoke to her heart and stirred something in the depths of her spirit. That’s when she began to realize the power behind this man.
Maybe KiNa was right about him…
“So what do you say?” Master SoYa apparently detected the wavering in her stance. He said nothing more, waiting for her answer.
Mustering up her pride, ShiKon’s voice was far more collected than she actually felt on the inside, “Yeah, alright. I’ll hang around for a little while. After that? We’ll see.”