Beneath the Dragoneye Moons

Chapter 548: Interlude - Pluvius Nix

Chapter 548: Interlude - Pluvius Nix

The month the Eventide Eclipse returned from the Phoenix Peaks.

Nix.

Nothing. Apart from. To put an end to, to cancel.

Denial.

Refusal.

Pluvius had a home. Had a family. It all came crashing down around his ears one terrible night. His dreams had been haunted ever since, causing him to endlessly toss and turn at night. A comment from one of the [Guards] who’d picked him up stuck with him as he’d fought and raged, screamed and begged, and so he adopted the name for himself.

Nix.

A piercing whistle banished dreams of blades and blood from his mind, and Pluvius Nix bolted out of bed at the crack of dawn together with dozens of other orphans in various degrees of stumbling out of bed. Each orphan had their own bed. It was small, the mattress was lumpy and the pillows looted, but it was theirs, a single maple leaf at the top of each one. They all reacted differently, some jumping up like they’d been hit with Lightning, others futilely pulling the covers over their head to try and get some more rest, others still simply crying at the start of the day.

Nix helped one of the four year olds out of bed, not bothering to wrinkle his nose at the smell. She’d had another accident, but Nix was sympathetic. He’d had his own back when he’d first come to the Maple Orphanage, and one of the older girls had given him a hand. She was gone now, and Nix liked to dream that she had gone off to bigger and better things, to a place where she had to share with one person max. Hasta was going to have to wash today, but that meant more hands washing, which meant it was unlikely Nix would be recruited to the task. He preferred getting assigned to the kitchen, stirring the hot cauldron for the stew and catching tantalizing glimpses of knives that the older boys and girls used to chop the vegetables.

The crying child wasn’t fully comforted yet, discovering her wet clothes and wailing more. Nix didn’t want to be on the wrong end of a switch though, and hastily turned back to his bed, fumbling in his attempts to make it before The Matron came in.

Eight minutes. That’s all they got in the morning. A few of the children with an unlocked System were already done, spending a few minutes chatting with each other or trying to wake up on their own. Nix was halfway done with his bed when a pair of small hands grabbed his tunic, and a pair of grey eyes wordlessly pleaded with him.

Nix sighed.

“Alright, just today, understand?” He asked for the eighth day in a row. Hasta nodded silently, and Nix stopped his own efforts to help the girl out. Everyone needed a helping hand in life.

Finished with Hasta’s bed, Nix turned back to his own when the door banged open. The Matron had arrived. Nix stopped trying to make his bed and stiffened next to it, facing the central aisle, along with the three dozen other orphans in their dorm. Her shoes clicked against the floor as her eyes silently swept back and forth over the orphans, evaluating them. Judging them. Eyes flickered from Nix’s bed, to Nix, to Hasta, to Hasta’s bed, and she swept along without comment. One of the kids sneezed. The Matron reached the end of the room, paused for an exactly prescribed amount, then swept back down the aisle.

Rumors abounded about The Matron. The most outlandish was that she was a vampire, drinking the blood of children in the middle of the night. Some said she was an ex-soldier, no, an ex-Ranger. Others claimed she was an underworld boss, selling naughty children to fight pits. Still more claimed she was a [Cultist], secretly a demon, or the absolute worst one of all.

She was a triplet, and there were two more Matrons out there, somewhere, terrorizing children.

It was well-known that she could hear everything going on at Maples.

The Matron paused at one point, glaring at a pillow. Then she moved on. When she reached the front of the room, she clapped her hands together and smiled.

“Good morning everyone!” She said.

“Good morning Matron.” Everyone dutifully replied in chorus, Nix included. Enthusiasm levels varied, from some children belting out the greeting to Hasta barely mumbling it. She looked like she was going to cry again.

The Matron’s smile was unwavering.

“Today is a VERY special day. We have a VERY special guest coming to visit today. She’s donated quite a lot to Maples, and she mentioned wanting to do a VERY special project with you all.”

Ears were perked, and a few kids tried to whisper to each other, their voices dying under The Matron’s Sound control.

“Now, I don’t believe she’s hoping to take anyone home with her today, but we never know. I do know she’s married and has no children. I fully expect everyone to be on their best behaviors. Creptus. Pugia. Jacta. Clesydrus. Crinita. Kitchen duty. Falca. Falx. Sweeping and cleaning. The rest of you, wash up. We want to look our very best this afternoon.”

Nix’s heart started to pound with anticipation and nerves. One part of him was sure he was about to, somehow, not get in trouble. The other was waiting for The Matron’s shoe to drop.

“Now, some of you I am most disappointed in. Interitus. Return the dolls to their owners. Yes, all of them, and they better be nicer than when you first nicked them. Imera. Hasta. Nix. Pliromis. Please stay behind. The rest of you, please, get started!”

A few eyes swung towards beet-red Interitus, while pairs of bare feet walked out of the room, filing past The Matron. The room slowly cleared out, leaving the five behind.

“Imera. You are sick, and there is no shame in that. There is shame in trying to conceal it, and I’m not mad, simply disappointed in your poor decision to hide it from me. Go see the [Healer].”

Imera nodded and ran off, The Matron’s mystique growing in Nix’s mind.

“Nix. It is commendable that you try to help others, but it is impossible to help others if you do not help yourself first. I expect you to be fully ready tomorrow, regardless of the state of the people around you. Go wash up.”

Nix nodded, the words crueler than any corporeal punishment The Matron could hand out. He almost had a sympathetic wince for Interitus. Almost.

Washing was both no-fun and exciting at the same time. Nix was too young to have had life trample all hope out of him yet, and he was at the ideal adoption age. Old enough to be out of the ‘high-maintenance’ and ‘dies young’ phases, young enough that his System hadn’t unlocked yet and was still, in a word, ‘moldable’. Nix washed his tunic, then his hair and his face, all while everyone gossiped. Nix was content to listen in on the other groups, his sharp ears picking up various conversations. Far better to keep his mouth shut and collect the dubious wisdom of the group than to waggle his tongue and muddy the waters.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“What do you think we’ll be doing?” One orphan speculated.

“That [Soldier] had us doing drills at one point.” A girl answered. “It got me a [Basic Conscript] class offered. It was red.”

A chorus of oooooh’s met her proclamation.

“Yeah, but did he take anyone?” A boy asked.

“Oxylus, Phalaris, and Cnemus.” One of the girls rattled off. Who had been adopted or taken home by whom were some of the hottest topics the orphans had to discuss - if not the only thing they obsessed over.

They all had to leave Maples, one way or another, by the time they were 14. The luckiest ones were adopted out to wealthy families. The second-luckiest ones were around when some Immortal swooped in, wanting to train dozens of children from the group up to become masters at some craft, having centuries to train them all and see which ones could create the perfect masterpiece. The rest would be cut loose, but with training, skills, and a solid community.

The middle-of-the-road ones managed to get in the good graces of a [Tradesman], agreeing to work as an [Apprentice] for a few years or decades. A raw deal for those who’d been dealt a raw hand in life, but it was security.

The unlucky ones were given eight arcs, the clothes on their backs, and whatever Maples Orphanage currently had in stock to hand out when they hit 14. They were given a brisk handshake, and wished the best of luck. They would need to fend for themselves one way or another.

The hope and dream was that, some day, upon finding success in life, the orphans would be able to give back to Maples, paying it forward to the next generation of orphans. Occasionally, they received large donations, like they did today.

“Heya, Nix, think you’re going to be picked?” Diotima slid in next to Nix. He wasn’t sure he liked the aggressive girl, she always seemed to be on the right end of a prank or other mischief.

The question caused a flood of emotions to surge through Nix’s body.

Did he want to get picked? Did he want a new family? Was it a betrayal of his old one? What would his mother think? His father? Would his old sister consider it a betrayal of their memories?

Questions that kept Nix up at night.

He tried to play it cool.

“Nah. No way she picks me. They said it was a girl, right? Girls pick other girls, and The Matron even claimed she wasn’t looking to adopt. No way. Maybe she’ll pick you?” Nix suggested.

Diotima beamed, her hair somehow dry already. She patted it affectionately.

“Oh, great! I’m really hoping this is the one, you know? I just have something telling me this is my big chance, and I’m going to be sleeping in a real bed tonight. You’ll help me out, won’t you?”

Nix wasn’t at the age where thinking things through, costs and benefits, and other levers of social interaction came into play. His thought process was simple and guileless.

“Sure, why not?”

Diotima beamed at him.

“Great, thank you!” She said, bouncing off to the next kid around their age.

I wonder what we’ll be doing today? Nix wondered.

After a hasty lunch, the orphans were arranged in three straight lines. The smallest one was Madeline.

Nix and his merry band of orphans were under The Matron, but there were three other groups of orphans at Maples, each with their own matron, each with their own set of lines. In their clean clothes, with fresh faces and bare feet, three of the groups hit the road, only the absolute youngest children staying behind. They headed to a nearby park. The route was well-trod, and they made it to a clear park with minimal fuss. Interitus visibly relaxed as they entered, the pinched, pained look on his face melting away as he stepped onto the grass. Diotima was at the very front, trying to put her best foot forward.

The Matron stopped dead when she saw who was there, and it took time for the orphans to stop as well, an ungainly ripple as they paused. Nix felt an involuntary shiver run down his back, as though Black Crow was once again staring him in the eyes, judging him and finding him wanting.

There were two of them, both women, one short and the other tall. Both were clad in armor. Black with a red cape on the shorter one, a pair of badges on her chest, and a deep-blue set of armor on the taller one, a winged helmet tucked under one arm. The short one had long hazel hair, blue eyes with sparkling stars in them, and a heart-shaped face that Nix might one day identify as ‘pretty’. The tall one had to be strong, given the size of the arm and leg armor. Her long blonde hair framed green eyes that were just as starry, and her face looked like a battle axe. She was smiling a lot more though, so Nix liked her more.

“Is that a Ranger?” Nix asked Diotima. The girl was looking distinctly uneasy.

“Yes? I- I think so?” She shifted from foot to foot, chewing furiously on her tongue. “That looks like a Ranger badge…”

“Wow.” Nix said, unable to comprehend just how important she was, but knowing she was. It was like the time the [Guard-Captain] had swung by to teach the orphans about laws and guards! Nix could only dream of being so important someday.

The Matron regained her composure, and with a few quick words, everyone lined back up. The shorter one was quietly chuckling as they got within a reasonable distance.

The Matron stepped up next to the two women who were having a quick conversation with each other, while the other two took up positions further back. She started to use her Sound skills again.

“Well! Everyone, please say thank you to Sentinel Dawn and Valkyrie Dusk!”

The two women waved as the children chorused a ‘thank-you’. It didn’t come sincerely from Nix’s heart, why would it? The only thing he had to be thankful for at the moment was an afternoon at the park, although even that was questionable, as there was some sort of ‘special activity’ planned.

“The two of them have donated over a million arcs to Maples. In other words, we’ll be able to pay for each and every one of you here today to take up an apprenticeship, even if you’re not adopted out.

“Thank you!” Nix blurted out, the words quite a bit more heartfelt than before. A Glare from The Matron promised retribution later. He studied the two women closer.

Nix wasn’t sure of what he wanted to do in life, but being rich enough to casually hand out a life-changing amount of money to almost a hundred orphans? That was something he wanted to be.

The Matron went on a speech for a bit, and Nix kept a perfectly still face as the shorter woman’s eyes started to glaze over in boredom. He didn’t let his mouth drop open - adults could do that!?

“... and I would like to now hand it over to Sentinel Dawn.” The Matron said.

There was a brief pause, and Valkyrie Dusk elbowed Dawn. She started and looked around.

“Ah, yes! Hello! I’m Sentinel Dawn. I’m a bit on the old side, and I sorta invented medicine as it’s practiced today. I don’t do this a lot, so all of you should get some fantastic class qualities out of it, especially if you apprentice yourself as a healer. To a healer.” She laughed like she’d made the funniest joke ever. Nix didn’t get it, Diotima forced a laugh.

“You know what I’m saying. Anyway! I have a practical, helpful project for all of you today, one that’s a genuine problem for me. You’ll all be able to walk away from today saying you helped a Sentinel with a real problem of theirs. You’ll be helping me move objects from one place to another, then helping me put them all back again.”

Nix wasn’t the only one looking around, not seeing anything in the strangely-empty park. Diotima looked bright and bushy-tailed, like she couldn’t wait to show off to the prospective parents.

Sentinel Dawn’s hands blurred, and a moment later, a vast Mirage spread over the grounds, marking it into a thousand grids.

“You might have to work together on some of these items. Don’t worry about the heavier stuff, Iona will take care of it.”

Sentinel Dawn gave them a quick breakdown of what went where, a solid third of the terms going over Nix’s head and half of it leaving as soon as it entered. Even Diotima looked pained.

“Let’s get started!”

Sentinel Dawn then vanished into thin air, causing gasps from everyone. She reappeared a moment later, staggering under the weight of a ludicrous amount of stuff. A full wardrobe over one shoulder, a barrel under her other arm, and a chest between her legs. Iona rolled her eyes and one-handedly took the wardrobe off her shoulder.

Nix’s eyes almost bugged out. Iona casually crossed the park, planting the wardrobe down.

“Diotima. Pliromis. Off to the wardrobe, please empty it out.” The Matron ordered. Diotima gave a dazzling smile to Iona, ran over to the wardrobe, and promptly screamed when a dead fish flopped out of it onto her head.

The orphans were giving the two women strange looks. Who kept fish in their wardrobe? Nix liked her style.

The Matron gestured, the orphans stepping forward. As soon as the chest was placed in a new spot, she ordered a few more forward to help with unpacking and sorting.

As soon as Dawn had divested herself of her loot, she disappeared again, only to emerge with another bundle of unusual supplies. The Matron was quietly freaking out.

Valkyrie Dusk was starting to call out directions, explaining where various things needed to be put. Soon it became clear. Food went in one pile, clothes in another. Tools went under the old oak tree that Nix loved to climb, while dishes and forks were piled near a seesaw.

He hurried along, loving the simplicity and variety in the task. What was going to be in the trunk? Surprise! It was a pair of mud-encrusted boots and a dozen cucumbers. Nix was convinced the Sentinel was quite mad and at least level 300, maybe 350, but to his surprise, found the activity fun! Dozens of orphans were running around and laughing, opening things up and sharing what they’d found.

He eyed the pile of weapons growing near Dawn’s spot. Somehow, mysteriously, they were never jumbled up with anything else. Made sense - no matter how crazy she was, she didn’t want to cut herself on a sword or stab herself with a spear.

A bunch of meat pies showed up at one point, and the orphans devoured them as though they’d never seen food before. A [Runner] was sent off to get more, and Nix decided, mad or not, the Sentinel was pretty good stuff.

Diotima’s eternal smile was growing strained, and the looks she shot the prospective parents looked more and more desperate. Nix’s heart went out to her.

The park was getting comically packed with junk. At one point, a goblet fell down on Dawn’s teleport back, and Nix hurried over to pick it up and move it to the right spot.

“Hey.” Dusk said with a smile. Nix’s heart skipped a beat, then the next two. She was talking directly to him! “Pluvius. You’re doing a great job. Thank you.”

Dawn teleported back in the middle and smiled as she dropped a mattress with a shovel and coil of rope.

“Yeah! Couldn’t do it without you Nix, you’re solid.”

Nix’s heart grew three sizes as his head swelled with pride. He knew he wanted to be them when he grew up. They’d donated enough money for him to get an apprenticeship, and he wasn’t quite sure how to accomplish it, but he knew what he wanted to be one day.

Nix knew he was going to join the Legions, and become a [Soldier].