Page 18 of Inferno
“Now, admittedly, you don’t know the answers to any of the questions I have, but you’re not dismissing the questions, either. You’re curious, and imaginative, and willing to toy with the idea of taming unicorns, rather than telling me what an absurd idea it is. And that tells me a great deal about you.” He took a few bites of his food, and Nerik followed suit, first checking inside his sandwich to make sure there wasn’t anything in there that was going to cause him a problem.
“You’re not afraid of the dragons. Or the unicorns. Or even particularly afraid of the demons, given what you said to Liatra in the forest today. I think you have a sense of adventure. I think you like exploring new ideas. And I…” Yorin cut himself off suddenly, his face flushing pink as he stared at his plate. Then he worked up the courage to look Nerik in the eye again. “And I like that,” he finished, biting his lip nervously.
“I certainly do have a sense of adventure,” Nerik said, touched by Yorin’s assessment of him, and a little startled by how accurate an impression he’d gotten, just from a couple of short conversations. Was he that transparent? Or had Yorin been paying as much attention to him over the years as he’d been paying to Yorin?
“So what brought you to Minia?” Yorin asked. “You’ve been here three and a half years, right? Where did you grow up? Most people come here to learn a trade – apprentice to a blacksmith, or something similar. But you came to be a messenger? Not that I’m judging you in any way whatsoever,” Yorin added quickly, an earnest expression on his face. “I don’t buy into all that rubbish about some jobs being ‘unworthy’. But it just seems like you could have been a messenger anywhere.”
It was, in many ways, an inevitable question. Humans liked continuity. They liked to know where people came from, and to make judgements about their worth and character on the basis of the answers. And Nerik understood the tendency. The salases, back in Chalandros, were much the same, with one’s status dependant on who one’s parents were. The unicorns had similar customs, along with the hadathmet. The fenrigs were less dependent on inherited status and more focused on personal achievements, while the fire-dogs and the vreki didn’t care a whit for status and just went about their lives as they saw fit.
Fortunately, one of the first things Gosta had taught Nerik after he came to Minia was that he would need a ‘backstory’, some tale of where he was born and what idle achievements his childhood had consisted of, and so Nerik had a plausible story ready to go. But at the same time, he lamented the fact that he couldn’t tell Yorin where he’dreallycome from. As he took another bite of his sandwich, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was just fooling himself here. How could he have a relationship with a human when every second word out of his mouth was going to be a lie?
“I come from a place far to the east of Azertel,” he said. Azertel was a significant town up in the mountains, but few people from Minia ever ventured further north or east than the town itself. Difficult terrain and frequent storms made it unpleasant for travelling, so the chances of Yorin knowing much about the towns or villages beyond there were slim. Which made for fewer questions. And avoiding questions was vital when Nerik had made the entire story up.
What he actually wanted to say to Yorin was,My spark was created in a temperate forest in northern Chalandros. I was born into a bed of donselwood twigs, which have an aromatic oil in them, and are considered good luck.One day, maybe, if he was very, very lucky, he might be able to tell Yorin what he really was, and then get the chance to tell him the true story. But for now, lies and half-truths would have to do.
“It was a small hamlet,” he went on, “only half a dozen families.”Infernals are solitary by nature, but occasionally, a few females band together and live in small communities.“My mother and her sister raised me, along with her sister’s two children. I never knew who my father was.”Male infernals rarely have anything to do with raising their sparks, so there was nothing unusual about that.
“I’m sorry,” Yorin said, at that latest detail. “That must have been difficult.”
“I never felt abandoned or lacked for attention. It was a good life, albeit a simple one. I was a bit of a terror, always running off into the forest, going on daft adventures.”Male infernals leave their families as soon as they’re able to support themselves. I roamed the forest, doing odd jobs for people, smelting copper or silver, or burning fields after harvest to clear the chaff.
“But that changed a few years ago. We had a hot, dry season and a forest fire swept through the hamlet. Burned the whole place to the ground.”The sun is slowly heating up and destroying all of life in Chalandros. The forest died, so there was no more fuel to keep our fires alight. So we had to leave.
“My mother passed away in the fire.”
“Oh gods, I’m sorry,” Yorin blurted out.
Nerik gave a faint smile. “Thank you. But it was long enough ago that I’ve come to terms with it.”
“But this was supposed to be a more light-hearted conversation. A fun evening, you said.”
That brought out a real smile. “We’ve spent the last three years talking about the weather and the best flavour of pastries. I think we’re allowed to graduate to something a little more in depth now.”
Yorin blushed, and Nerik found that he very much liked the bashful, pleased expression on his face. And he hadn’t even done any real flirting yet.
“Fair enough,” Yorin agreed. “Please, carry on then.”
Nerik cleared his throat. “So, after she died, I didn’t want to stick around anymore. I headed across the mountains to Azertel. It was alongjourney.”I crossed barren fields with no fuel in them, and bartered gold and silver nuggets for what little wood people had left to burn. I travelled from Incentino in the north to Iddishmeil, the last refuge of the Chalandrians before the vast desert that leads to the gate. I nearly died three times. But I survived, that far, at least.
“I stayed in Azertel for a while, but it wasn’t really where I wanted to be. Too cold, too many storms.”Iddishmeil was too hot, filled to the brim with other desperate people. “So I kept going. Down the mountain, not really knowing where I was heading.”I gathered as much wood and water as I could find – wood for fuel and water to keep my fire under control. I crossed the desert to the gate, knowing full well I would most likely die before I’d made it even ten metres past the entrance to the human world.
“I got caught in a storm as I was coming into Minia. Got far too cold and collapsed in a ditch.”I ran out of water hours before I reached the gate. Then my fire started burning too hot and I was running out of wood. By the time I made it through the gate, I was little more than charcoal and dust.“Gosta found me – you know the nurse at the hospital?”
Yorin nodded. “Yes, I’ve met her a handful of times. She seems a rather stern woman.”
Nerik nodded. “Stern, but with a heart of gold. She looked after me for a couple of weeks while I recovered, then helped me get started as a messenger.”She fed me small twigs and chips of cedar wood for days, slowly helping me rebuild my fire without letting it get too hot and incinerate what was left of me.“I owe her a lot.”I owe her my life, and quite possibly, the future of the entire infernal species.
“That’s quite a story,” Yorin said. “And I’m genuinely sorry. I didn’t mean to dig up painful memories.”
“I survived,” Nerik said. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sort of proud of that. I’ve seen…” He paused, careful about how he phrased the next part. “I’ve seen desperate people make desperate decisions. Some even took their own lives. I’ve seen the wealthy live in misery and the poor rejoice over a simple loaf of bread. And maybe being a messenger isn’t a glamourous life, but I’m free to go where I want and do what I want, and that’s worth more to me than the finest of houses or a stable full of horses.”
“I admire your fortitude,” Yorin said, seeming troubled by something he’d said. “But I doubt I could match it. I’ve lived in Minia my whole life and never ventured much past the edge of the city. I think it would be terrifying to just get up and travel to a whole new place.”
“It was terrifying,” Nerik said. Yorin’s hand was lying on the table beside his plate, their meals finished, and Nerik longed to reach out and take it. “I’m not saying I wasn’t scared. It’s just that sometimes life doesn’t give you a choice and you have to do whatever’s necessary to make it through.”
Yorin’s hand twitched a fraction. His fingers were long and artistic, and Nerik wanted to touch his skin, to feel the smoothness of it, the warmth. But apparently, being brave enough to cross a fiery desert didn’t equate to being brave enough to touch the man he lo… the man he had a crush on.
Maybe this was moving a little too fast, he forced himself to consider, as he put his own hand firmly in his lap. This was only their first date. He’d never had a real relationship before. Who was he to speak of love?