Chosen - 1. Chosen

"Up! Everyone up!" the cry went through the dormitory.

Tine stirred, slipping from a most pleasant dream as consciousness returned with the movement of other bodies around him. Once he was more or less awake, he attempted to sit up, but something was wrong. When he drew a breath, he gasped in pain and lay back on his mattress.

His best friend, Aiden, turned to him, his eyes widened in shock, "Tine, what's wrong?"

"Wrong?" he rasped out, his voice sounding odd. Tine closed his eyes and focused on not hurting as he ached from the top of his blond head to the soles of his lightly bronzed feet and had no clue as to why.

"Tine, lay back down; I'm going to go get someone."

Tine did not argue. His head swam whenever he opened his eyes. The other boys had dressed and headed down to morning exercise in the courtyard where he could hear the morning drills beginning through the open window.

He wasn't sure how long he lay there before Aiden came back with Deven, a year-nine instructor, in tow.

"He woke up like this," Aiden whispered. "He was fine last night."

"Hello, Tine," Deven said as he sat on the edge of the bed.

Tine opened his eyes. The pale blue orbs glistened with unshed tears. There appeared to be bruises under his eyes, but Deven knew it was just one sign of many the boy would be exhibiting if what he thought happened to him had happened. Deven smiled and stroked Tine's forehead.

"What's wrong with him?" Aiden asked.

"Nothing that time can not repair, Aiden, leave us."

Aiden bobbed his head then left the room.

"How are you feeling?"

"Hurt, confused," Tine managed to rasp out.

Deven frowned at him, "You were not ready, but you woke up this morning, so you will survive. Although before it's over, you may wish you hadn't. Come on and get out of bed, the fresh air will do you good." Deven spotted the expected twin prick marks on the boy's left thigh almost immediately when he tossed the blanket back. Now having his explanation, he gave the rest of the boy a cursory look. Tine's limbs were long, straight, well muscled with a light dusting of hair sprouting where it should be. His torso was lean, his rib cage prominent, but he didn't appear to be malnourished, nor had his growth been stunted or hindered in any way. He was small though, almost too small. Deven frowned and tugged Tine into a sitting position, and then opened his chest to toss clothing at him. A very short time later, Deven led a pouting Tine down the stairs and into the courtyard.

"Go join your year," he said as he indicated the year-eights who were doing their morning exercises, "I'll see you later to make sure you are still alive."

Tine nodded and stumbled toward them, his body behaving as if it were still not quite under his own control.

Deven watched Tine and his year-mates for a while to be satisfied the boy was truly unharmed, then turned and went back inside the building. He climbed the stairs to the top floor turning over the morning's events in his mind trying to determine which of the young Imperials would dare to taste the blood of one so young.

Striding back and forth on the landing at the top of the stairs, Bra-Neche waited. He looked as if he had left his room in a hurry as he was scantly-dressed with just a pair of low-hanging, loose pants covering his tall, lanky body, and he had not finished combing his waist-length, raven-black hair.

Deven nodded at him to acknowledge his presence, then turned to go to his rooms, which were along the inner corridor. Bra-Neche followed, his dark irises swirling with worry.

"Is there a problem, Bra-Neche?" Deven asked the boy.

Bra-Neche looked back down the hall toward the stairs, and then back at his uncle, who frowned as he studied his nephew's flushed face and his glow of good health. Bra-Neche took a deep breath, which caused his well-muscled chest and broad shoulders to rise and fall. Then Bra-Neche managed to screw up enough courage to ask, "Will he live?"

Deven stared at his sister's son, the question unanswered. The realization slowly dawned on him as to who was to blame for Tine's condition this morning. He forced himself to be casual, non-caring even, "What of it? If he lives, he will bond. If he does not live… well some do not." Deven shrugged, then turned to open his door.

"I would prefer if he lived…" Bra-Neche said softly.

"It might be better if he does not, Bra-Neche." Deven told his nephew, "He is too young. You are too young. Neither of you should be thinking about bonding yet, especially you."

"Isn't that what they sent me here to learn about?" Bra-Neche reached out and grabbed his uncle's shoulder, "Isn't that why I've been sitting in with the others? To learn how to choose a mate?"

Deven narrowed his eyes and allowed his voice to carry a bit of a growl, "You are here to learn, not to do. No one gave you permission to court any of the boys here, much less a very young and very impressionable year-eight." Deven stepped into his room, "You have your studies, get to them. I will not see you outside your room except for meals until further notice."

Bra-Neche bowed his head, "Yes, Uncle."

"And, Bra-Neche, if the boy dies, his death will be on your soul."

Bra-Neche blanched, swallowed hard, backed up two steps, and then turned to flee down the hall to his appointed room.

 

 

 

Tine made his way into the dining hall for dinner. As a day went, his had been rather uneventful which surprised him after the way Devon and Aiden had reacted that morning. The one thing he really happened to be was tired. All day long, he found it frustrating that he could not recall much of anything past entering the room on the top floor. Whenever he thought on it, a kaleidoscope of color marred his memories and his head ached, so he tried not to think on it too much, however there was a lingering feeling that something did happen. Something important. Something he would want to remember.

"What happened to you last night, Tine?" Aiden asked as the year-fours served. "I've asked around today if anyone heard anything last night and it seems that everyone in our room slept solidly last night. What did Deven say?"

"I remember going to bed and waking up this morning hurting, but it was kind of a good hurt. At least I think it was a good hurt." Tine sighed. "Deven told me I didn't die, as if that wasn't obvious. And that movement would do me good."

"Well I hope it does not happen again. You scared me."

Aiden's comment confused Tine. He hoped it did happen, even if the very thought brought tremors to his limbs. How could he explain the dichotomy of his feelings to his best friend? He could barely understand it himself when the half-formed images tumbled around in his mind, images he could not place nor explain. Absently he took his portion from each dish as it passed from his neighbor on the right to his neighbor on his left. When all the dishes had been passed around, Tine picked up his fork, speared a hunk of meat, brought it to his mouth, and began to chew. His stomach roiled. He spat it out.

"What's the matter with you?" Aiden whispered, shocked at his best friend's odd behavior.

"It tastes… bad," Tine said as he pushed the meat on his plate away from everything else.

 

 

Leal, one of the year-eight instructors, walked over to where Tine sat when he noticed the boy spat out the meat. He feared this would happen when Tine showed up late to morning exercise. Each instructor knew the signs and symptoms of one of their boys being chosen by the Imperials that came to the school periodically to do just that, but he had never seen a boy in the younger years be chosen before. It was not unprecedented though, but it was not something that had happened for as long as Leal had been teaching here.

Leal placed a hand on Tine's shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze. When Tine looked up, Leal told him to come with him. It was not too uncommon for one of the instructors to pull a boy out of the hall during a meal. On their way out of the dining hall, Leal pulled one of the servers over and quietly said something to the boy, then indicated for Tine to follow him.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, and then Leal spoke,

"Is there something wrong with your food, Tine?"

"No, Sir."

"Then why aren't you eating?"

"Not really hungry, Sir."

Leal seemed to be considering Tine's answer, then he changed the subject, "How are your studies, Tine?"

"F-fine," Tine responded, looking confused.

"How do you feel? I heard you had a bit of a rough night."

"Tired, sort of achy, but I should survive."

"Is this the first time it's happened?"

Tine nodded.

"Do you know what is happening to you?"

Tine shook his head, "Do you know?"

The man quirked up an eyebrow, "I have a pretty good idea, but it's too early to say for certain. If it happens again, you come immediately to me."

"Yes, sir."

"Now, go eat."

Tine nodded again and headed back into the hall. His place had been cleared and in the space sat a selection of fresh fruits, vegetables, and a pot of herbal tea.

Tine looked at Aiden who shrugged, "One of the year-fours brought it over, said if you wanted more just ask."

Tine nodded and ate his fill. None of the food made him nauseous. As the boys around him chatted about their day, Tine's gaze traveled to the table just below where the instructors sat where four boys in red tunics enjoyed their meal. Among them sat several other boys who were about the same age or a little older. One looked up as Tine stared. Tine smiled. The boy smiled back then dropped his gaze.

Tine slowly ate the rest of his meal, deep in thought.

 

 

The next few days passed fairly normally for Tine. His body healed rapidly and, after the first day, he had been mostly unhindered in his exercises. Then, one night as he laid in his bed thinking about what had happened, he heard a voice in his head. It said one word: 'Come'.

Tine sat up and looked around. The call repeated. He quietly rose from his bed, walked out the door, and climbed the stairs. At the top of the stairs, he saw four naked boys standing in a small cluster. They appeared to be the boys who wore the red tunics. The door opened and Tine slipped in with them.

A man stood in the hall, waiting, and led them down one hallway then another and another until Tine was certain he would not be able to find his way back to his own bed. The other four boys did not make a sound, nor did they look to the left or the right. As they disappeared into yet another door, Tine felt someone grab him. He almost shouted in surprise, but managed to keep his mouth shut.

"Not yet, please, not yet," a dark-haired youth whispered to him, "come with me, please."

Tine was even more confused, the youth felt familiar, but he could not place why. His gut told him to trust, so he did, leaving the others and going with the strange-yet-familiar youth back down several hallways to a small room with a window that opened to the courtyard below.

"We can talk here," the youth said softly as he stood too closely.

"Who are you?" Tine asked looking at the youth, trying to place where he had seen those eyes before. They were unusual enough that Tine remembered them, but he didn't remember the circumstances around the memory.

"I am called Bra-Neche."

Images of a swirling eye in a large head flashed through Tine's mind, "I know you."

Bra-Neche nodded and moved closer yet.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why am I here?"

"Do you want to be elsewhere?"

Tine shook his head and breathed deeply of Bra-Neche's intoxicating scent.

Bra-Neche smiled down on Tine, then took his hand, pulling it between them as he backed up a step, "Come with me, my soul…"

Tine felt a strange warmth creep along his skin as he took a step forward, then another as Bra-Neche led him across the room. They stopped when Bra-Neche sat down on his sleeping couch, leaning back so that his robes parted. Tine drank in the other youth's dark beauty and felt odd sensations in his belly and below. He leaned forward, their lips met…

… then blackness.

 

 

Tine woke to the rising sun, his body ached, but this time, he knew it would pass. He had to speak to Leal immediately. Pulling on the first clothing his hands came to in his trunk, Tine left before any of his year-mates woke.

Leal sat in his study reading a book when Tine found him.

"Do you have a minute, Sir?"

"Anytime for you, Tine. What brings you out so early?"

Tine slipped into the room and closed the door securely behind him. "It happened again."

Leal arched an eyebrow, "What exactly happened?"

Tine related the story up to the point where he blacked out, leaving out Bra-Neche's name, "I don't understand, Sir."

"And you remember nothing more?"

Tine shook his head.

"Take off your clothing, Tine."

Tine stripped quickly as his aching body let him and stood nude in front of his instructor.

Leal studied the marks on the boy; they were consistent with the marks on the other four. Then he saw them -- two puncture marks on the inside of Tine's thigh. "These, were they there the other day?"

"Those or another set like them," Tine replied. "Is that bad?"

"Oh Tine, it is not bad." Leal smiled at him reassuringly, "It means you are a very special boy." He touched the mark gingerly. "Are you afraid of the one who marks you like this?"

"No, Sir."

"Do you go willingly?"

Tine shrugged, "I guess so. The others they seemed to be… in a trance or something."

"But you were not?"

Tine shook his head.

"Did you want to be there?"

Tine shrugged, "I didn't know where we were going, but once I was alone with him…"

"You wanted to be there?"

Tine nodded.

"After today things will not be the same for you, Tine. But I think you have experienced some of that already."

"Meals?"

Leal nodded, "And there will be other changes too, some will not be so apparent, but they will come. If he calls you again, will you go?"

"Yes, Sir."

Leal smiled, "I didn't expect any other answer, Tine. Let me talk to some of the others; you go to your classes. However, if anything else happens, you come to me immediately."

"Yes, Sir," Tine stood and left the room quickly and quietly.

Leal put his book away and went off to make his report. They had a new, although young, Chosen and he would have to be accommodated.

 

 

Tine headed through the hall just in time to see most of his year-mates rising to leave to go to classes. He grabbed some fruit, bread, and a mug of tea and followed.

"Where were you?" Aiden asked once they were away from the hall.

"I had a meeting with Leal."

"There were announcements this morning, the red-tunics are leaving tomorrow and tonight there will be a party for them."

"A party?" Tine perked up.

"Yes, we are all excused from our afternoon classes to make sure we have something suitable to wear and to help prepare. There are also a few year-tens who will make their vows to the guards soon, so the party will be for them as well."

Tine grinned. "Sounds like fun."

 

 

 

 

Bra-Neche sat in his room, staring out the window, although he was supposed to be studying. There was a sharp rap on his door, and then his Uncle Deven entered.

"Rumor has it there is a fifth Chosen."

"Caed said there were only four last night, Uncle."

"You asked?"

Bra-Neche nodded.

"Why?"

"I was curious."

"Bra-Neche, this is serious."

"Yes it is, Uncle, the Imperial Guards are getting four boys tomorrow who have no idea what they are getting into. Did you ask them if they wanted to be Chosen?"

"It is an honor!" Deven growled and stormed out of the room.

Bra-Neche stared out the window for a while longer, gathered a few things then headed for the stables. Once there, he closed his eyes, "Come to me."

 

 

Tine felt the call in the middle of his Law class. He stayed in his seat a little longer then excused himself. Finding Bra-Neche was not difficult at all for Tine. It was as if he had an inner compass pointing the way to the other youth. As he entered the stables, Tine felt Bra-Neche's pleasure in his coming. There were two horses saddled and ready to ride, "Come with me?"

Tine nodded and mounted one of the horses. Once they were clear of the stable yard, Tine turned to Bra-Neche, "Will I remember this time?"

"Do you want to remember?"

"I do."

"Then you shall," Bra-Neche smiled and urged his horse to a faster gait. They traveled further than Tine ever had gone before, eventually stopping by an outcropping of trees by a stream. Bra-Neche was the first to dismount and ground tether his horse.

"What will happen?"

"Nothing more than you want to happen." Bra-Neche said as he opened his bundle, spreading the blanket that he brought under a tree in the grass. Once it was to his liking, he lay down and patted the space beside him. Tine sat, then stretched out alongside Bra-Neche.

"There are some things about me that you must know." Bra-Neche looked at him sheepishly, "I guess the place to start is… I'm Imperial."

Tine nodded, "I figured as much. There have been quite a few Imperials like you through here these years past."

"No. Well, yes. Similar at least. Imperials all have one thing in common -- our mothers are priestesses in the Temple of the Moon."

"Your mother is a priestess?" Tine asked trying to make sense of what Bra-Neche was telling him.

Bra-Neche nodded. "But there is more, so much more. Imperials are allowed to pick someone, someone like you, that will share their life, their soul. Our bodies… we produce…" Bra-Neche sighed, "I am not explaining this well." He took a deep breath and tried again, "We cannot breed with just anyone, our… ejaculate… is poisonous to all those except the Daughters of the Moon and the one we share our soul with. When I bled you the first time, it was to see if we were compatible. Some boys are not and they become seriously ill. I bled you twice to be certain I would not kill you when we coupled."

"So we have not…?"

"We did not."

. "I thought we had and I could not remember it," Tine smiled. "There is more?"

Bra-Neche nodded. "M-my pedigree is pure. Costan's blood flows through my veins. You know this, Tine. You've seen the proof."

Memories flooded Tine: darkness, a serpentine form, the kaleidoscope eyes…

"What does this mean?"

"We believe our Chosen to be Sons of Suril. Don't you know the story of Suril?"

Tine shook his head, "I've never heard it."

"Have you heard of Gavi?"

"Gavi the dragon-slayer? Of course!"

"Dragon-slayer? Gavi was no dragon-slayer! Is that what they teach you? Blasphemy!"

"There's a different story?" Tine asked softly, having never seen his love so upset before this.

"Gavi was not a dragon-slayer," Bra-Neche sighed. "Maybe I should tell you the story as I learned it, then you will see."

Tine nodded and lay quietly next to his lover to hear his tale.

"In the beginning of time lived the dragon, Costan. But he was lonely for there were no others of his kind. So, he coaxed the Moon Maiden to him and spilled his seed in her womb. In time, she gave birth to Gavi and the Daughters of the Moon. Now Costan was not alone, he had a son. In the fullness of time, Gavi mated with the Daughters of the Moon who, in turn, gave birth to sons and moons. Then Gavi took a male lover, Taveh, which displeased Costan, as dragons did not mate with man. In his anger, Costan cursed his son causing his seed to be poisonous to mankind. In his grief over Taveh's death, Gavi grabbed his father by the throat, and flung him far into the heavens where his serpentine form can still be seen. Time passed and Gavi waged war on his father's other children who could couple with whom they pleased. One day, at the end of the battle, Gavi came across a beautiful young man who was dying. He reached out to Gavi and begged Gavi to couple with him before he died so that he could know the touch of love. Knowing his seed would kill the young man who said his name was Suril, Gavi protested, but agreed to hold him closely. Suril's blood entranced Gavi and being half-dragon, he licked it, causing the wound to heal. Suril held onto life and begged Gavi to show him love. Gavi agreed, but first Suril had to allow him to treat his wounds. Suril begged Gavi to hurry as he licked the wounds clean and closed. When he finished the last, Suril still breathed. With a heavy heart, Gavi kept his word loving Suril until he fell asleep. When he awoke, Gavi expected to be snuggled to a corpse, but was surprised to see Suril awake and whole. They spent the rest of their lives together, loving each the other." Bra-Neche smiled at Tine then, "For me, you are Suril, and for you, I am Gavi." Bra-Neche whispered against Tine's skin as his hands wandered, bunching the tunic up under Tine's armpits in the process.

Tine smiled, a warm flush rushing over his flesh. "There could be worse things than that, Bra-Neche."

"You don't mind that I will someday be the Dragon Lord?" His thumbs found two small brown buds and flicked them.

"Do you mind I do not know my pedigree?" Tine smiled and enjoyed Bra-Neche's ministrations as he wiggled back out of his tunic.

Bra-Neche shook his head.

"Then why should I mind if you know yours?" Tine arched his back slightly allowing his body to rub against Bra-Neche's body.

"My uncle says we are too young…" Bra-Neche confessed as his hands trailed to lower flesh, "but I know I could find no other as perfect for me as you."

Bra-Neche kissed his way across Tine's shoulders, "There is another thing we must do."

"Hum?"

Bra-Neche pricked his finger on his sharp fang and squeezed out the first drops of blood. "Taste me," he whispered and offered the bleeding digit to Tine who took the digit into his mouth and began to suckle it. "Do you know what I'm going to do to you?"

Tine's eyes widened as the slightly metallic taste rolled over his taste buds and down his throat. He shook his head.

"Do you want me to do it anyway?"

Tine nodded.

Bra-Neche leaned in, removed his finger from Tine's mouth, and kissed him. Tine felt things in places he never felt before. When they parted, Bra-Neche smiled. "Do you want more?"

"Please," Tine said softly as he pulled his lover to his body, "Love me, Bra-Neche, love me deeply."

Bra-Neche growled, then loved him deeply.

 

 

 

 

 

"Leal!" Deven called, "Have you seen my nephew?"

"Your nephew? The boy who is visiting?"

"The same. We had a bit of a disagreement this morning and he's run off."

"Yours too? One of my year-eights is gone missing."

"Young lad, about so high?" Deven held one hand up about mid-chest.

Leal nodded, "Blond, yes, and it is very much unlike him to not go to class. Your nephew is Imperial?"

Deven nodded, "My sister's son. His father wanted him to have a chance to see how boys become Chosen before he chooses for himself."

"When will that take place?"

"It happens when it happens. Although, he's young yet, hasn't quite finished his lessons." Deven shrugged, "I'd imagine it would be shortly after he returns home."

Leal nodded. "Well I need to find Tine, but if I see Bra-Neche I will tell him you are looking for him."

Deven nodded and agreed the same.

 

 

 

 

The sun was low in the sky when the two boys woke from their nap. Tine ached, but this was a different ache than before, it didn't stop at his thighs but continued deep inside, where he felt strangely empty.

"You know you just ruined your chances at becoming a Templar," Bra-Neche said softly, "So long as you didn't remember you would have been eligible."

"I wanted to remember," Tine said softly as he nuzzled against Bra-Neche.

"How does your head feel?" Bra-Neche touched the two new puncture marks on Tine's throat. "I shouldn't have done that so soon after last night."

"I'm fine. I wanted it."

Bra-Neche smiled, "I want to give you something." He fished around his clothing for a moment and pulled out a blue bead tied to a fine strip of leather. "You can wear this many ways, around your wrist or neck, or here," he separated a lock of Tine's hair near his temple and twisted the leather in a series of knots around the hair until he bead hung just below the level of Tine's eye. "I think it looks best there."

"Show me how."

Bra-Neche smiled and pulled out another strip of leather. "It will be easier to practice on the horses."

Tine learned to make the knots very quickly, then the two of them dressed, packed up the blanket and headed back to the school. Tine's fingers returned to the adornment, then he asked, "What do I tell anyone who asks?"

Bra-Neche shrugged his shoulders, "Tell them what you will, those who know what it means will not ask."

Tine looked over at him with curiosity.

"It means that you have a lover."

Tine flushed, and then held on tightly as the horses moved to a faster gait.

 

 

 

Deven was waiting in Bra-Neche's rooms when the young man opened the door.

"Uncle!"

"Where were you?"

"Out riding."

"Alone?"

Bra-Neche shook his head and began to gather his things for a bath.

"Who were you with?"

"Tine."

"So, now you will tell me his name… have you completed the ritual then?"

Bra-Neche nodded.

"You know you can choose no other now."

"I know."

"He's very young."

"I know."

"He could refuse…"

"He did not."

"Did not?" Deven asked his nephew.

"We… discussed it," Bra-Neche admitted.

"Everything?"

Bra-Neche nodded.

"Will you publicly claim him?"

"I will."

"I must go talk to Leal, clean yourself up boy, you smell like…"

Bra-Neche giggled, "I should."

Deven swallowed hard, then turned and stormed out of the room. He had to go find Leal and let him know that one of his charges was now the Chosen of an Imperial.

 

 

 

Tine arrived back in enough time before the evening meal to wash and change into a clean tunic. As he sat in the tub, Leal entered the bathing room. Leal looked Tine over, noticed the twin pricks on his neck, and the blue gem laying on the stool next to the tub, "How many times have you been with him now? Twice? Thrice? More?"

"At least," Tine answered as he poured water from a jug over his head.

"And he… bled you each time?"

Tine nodded.

"Did anything else happen?"

Tine nodded.

"You are a year-eight, Tine, do you even know what it means when a boy like Bra-Neche…?"

"Boy like Bra-Neche?" Tine cut him off. "I know he likes me. I know I like him. The rest is unimportant."

"Do you hate the Templars that much?"

"No, I like Bra-Neche that much."

"Did he tell you he was leaving tomorrow?"

Tine shrugged, but Leal could see by the look on his face that Tine thought to go with him.

"Finish washing, dry off, and come to my office. I will have appropriate clothing for you," Leal told him then took Tine's clothing as he headed for the door.

"Are you kicking me out?" Tine asked hopefully.

"No, Tine, this is way beyond kicking you out." Leal shut the door behind him.

Tine wept into the water as he finished his bath, wondering what would become of him if he were not making him leave. Finally, he combed his hair and put the bead back in like Bra-Neche had showed him. Then wrapped in a drying cloth, he headed to Leal's office. Draped on the back of a chair were a pair of white leggings and a blue tunic. Tine felt the material and found it different from the material his browns had been made from. Once dressed, he stepped out in the hall where Leal met him outside the door.

"The color is good on you," Leal said gently, "Tonight you will dine next to your lover."

"Does everyone know?" Tine whispered as he looked across the room.

"Only those who need to know."

Tine nodded and entered the hall. Conversation did not exactly stop, but there was a difference as he walked from the back of the room to the front, alone, in strange clothing. Bra-Neche saw him and smiled. Tine smiled back and closed the distance to his lover's side.

The eldest boy at the table indicated the lone empty chair, and Tine sat. The food was passed around, and Tine was relieved to see there were no meat dishes.

"We were told another would be joining us this evening, but we don't know who you are. I am Esban," the eldest spoke to Tine.

"Tine, year-eight."

Some of the other boys choked on their food, one sputtered, "Year-eight?"

Tine nodded.

"At this table, we have no years, Tine. Here you are simply Tine, Chosen."

"Chosen?" Tine looked around the table and each boy nodded. "Who are you chosen by?"

"That is not an easy question to answer, Tine," Esban started. "You see, those who are at this table who are not already Imperials Guards were chosen to serve by Imperial Guards. We will all serve, just in different capacities."

Tine looked around the table and suddenly it made much more sense. The boys in red-tunics alternated between those not. He sat between Esban and Bra-Neche. Bra-Neche smiled, picked up a slice of fruit and popped it in Tine's mouth as he opened it to ask another question. "Shhhh, you talk too much."

Tine felt the heat rise on his face as he chewed.

One of the boys near the end make a rude comment about letting children at their table, which caused Tine to flush as crimson as the tunic of the boy who spoke. The boy on the other side of Esban took a sip of his tea then sat down his cup, saying, " I think that Tine is no longer a 'child', are you Tine?"

Tine looked up wide-eyed and shook his head.

"So, is that what the blue tunic means?"

Tine looked around, "I don't know. Leal told me to wear it for tonight."

"The blue tunic means that your life will be different now, Tine. Your training will… intensify. You will have less free time and more studies. You have so much to learn and a very short time to learn it," Esban told him gently. "But one of the nice things is that you will have your own room."

"I'm not a year-ten," Tine protested.

"No, you are not, you are Chosen. There is no shame in being a son of Suril."

The other non-red wearing boys nodded their heads as Esban spoke. But Tine drew back from them as he could read hunger in their eyes. Bra-Neche leaned forward and Tine would have sworn he heard his lover growl. The others backed down, their eyes returning to normal as they picked up food or drink, ignoring him.

Tine was very glad when the meal was over.

 

 

The going away party was in full swing when Tine began to yawn.

"Are you sleepy?" Bra-Neche asked him after the third or fourth yawn.

"A little, I think our ride this afternoon tired me out."

"Would you care to accompany me to my room?"

"Is that allowed?"

"It is."

Tine nodded. No one tried to stop them as they left the party and headed up the stairs all the way to the top floor. As they passed the rune-carved door, Tine decided he had to ask, "Why are students not permitted up here?"

"These are the instructor's private quarters, and where visiting Imperials and their Chosen sleep."

"But they make it seem like such a big deal…"

"It is a big deal for some students and for some instructors, and for all Imperials," Bra-Neche led Tine to his room and closed the door behind them.

 

 

Tine drifted to wakefulness snuggled against Bra-Neche.

"I have to leave today," Bra-Neche said to him when he was awake enough to comprehend. "I am expected to journey with the others to Saradaun."

"I know."

"You have to stay here."

"I don't want to stay here."

Bra-Neche sighed and cuddled Tine close, "I know, and I don't want to leave you behind."

"Then why must you?"

"My parents are expecting me home. They are not expecting you too. I must explain things to them so they understand why I Chose you. I will come for you, Tine, or send for you. I will not let us be separated forever."

Tine nodded, "Will you miss me?"

"I can't miss you, you are with me always," Bra-Neche kissed Tine's forehead.

Tine flipped his body around, mounted Bra-Neche, and nipped at his exposed flesh. "Maybe I can make you miss me?"

Bra-Neche laughed and proceeded to allowed Tine to try.

 

 

A sharp rap on the door along with a reminder that they would be leaving within the hour forced the two apart. Bra-Neche had packed his few personal belongings the day previous and the night before, while they had been at the party, someone had taken his things out to the stable to prepare for the trip.

Bra-Neche dressed quickly, stuffed his soiled clothing into his saddle-bag, gave Tine another kiss, and hurried down the hall, never looking back. A short time later, he heard another knock on the door before it opened. Leal poked his head in.

"Tine, we have been looking all over for you. You have missed most of your morning classes."

"I don't want to study today," he said through his tears.

"You can't lay in here and be miserable."

"I can too," Tine insisted.

"Will it do any good?"

Tine shook his head. "Why didn't you kick me out?"

"Because, Tine, you were Chosen. You are year-eight so you haven't learned what that means yet, but I think you know some of it. Our training here is usually much closer to complete before a young man such as yourself chooses to go beyond our training. Bra-Neche understands the importance of your last two years of training. He wants you to stay. Then when you are together again, you will know what to do."

"He could teach me."

Leal reached over and ruffled the boy's golden curls. "He can not teach you what he does not yet know himself. Did he tell you he is young for choosing?"

Tine nodded.

"Do you think it's fair that the two of you who are so young and ill-prepared begin this journey alone, with only each other to lean on?"

Tine shook his head.

"Then consider this not as an ending, but as a beginning. Learn all you can and, soon, you will be together again."

Tine smiled, "Do you really think so?"

Leal nodded, "I know so. Now, come on, you, up and out. You can bring your belongings up here later and situate them. I think it only fitting that this room be yours for a while, don't you?"

Tine nodded and smiled. It was fitting.

 

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