Author: Alessandra Hazard
Category: LGBT
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Eridan licked his lips and leaned forward. “Can you really kill people with your mind?” he whispered, his heart beating faster. A freaking Seven, holy shit. There were no Class 7 telepaths on the planet, as far as everyone knew.
The look Idhron gave him was extremely unimpressed. “Even if I could, I would hardly tell you that, initiate. And that is beside the point.”
Right. What was the point?
Eridan forced himself to stop fixating on the mind-blowing fact that he was in a room with a Seven and rewound their conversation in his head. “Wait, do you mean that you’re a Seven because you don’t have emotions? How is that even connected?”
Master Idhron eyed him for a moment before saying, “What I am about to tell you cannot leave this room.”
It was a statement, but Eridan nodded anyway, looking at Idhron curiously.
“Every telepath has an area of their brain dedicated to telepathy,” Idhron said.
Eridan nodded, glad that he actually knew what Idhron was talking about. “Yes, the atheus.”
“Indeed,” Idhron said, and for the first time since Eridan had met him, there was something like faint approval in his gaze.
Eridan scowled, annoyed with himself for feeling a little pleased.
“The size of one’s atheus determines the strength of one’s telepathy,” Idhron said. “That is why higher-level telepaths are so rare: it is extremely rare that one is born with a large enough atheus. But what is not widely known is that it is possible to make your telepathy stronger. Just like any muscle, one’s atheus can be grown by training it.”
Eridan frowned. “But that doesn’t make sense. If it were true, everyone would become a high-level telepath.”
“No, because most people lack the discipline and do not wish to sacrifice what they see as essential.” Idhron’s lips curled into a derisive smile. “They value their emotions too much.”
Eridan felt puzzled. “But why do you have to sacrifice your emotions?”
Idhron gave him a surprisingly patient look. “The brain’s capacity is not unlimited. If one is not born a high-level telepath, increasing the size of one’s atheus comes at a price. It can be increased only at the expense of another part of the brain. Sacrificing the capacity for one’s useless emotions and feelings makes the most sense.”
Eridan stared at this cold-eyed man and realized with a fascinated sort of horror that Idhron really didn’t understand that the capacity to feel was what made one a sentient being. He wondered if there had been time Idhron understood that he was losing something essential in pursuit of more power. If there had been, it clearly was no longer the case. The man in front of him was something of a sociopath now, unable to understand or feel deep emotions. It was both disturbing and fascinating.
“Do you expect me to give up emotions, too?” Eridan said with a laugh. “Because I can tell you right now that isn’t likely.”
Idhron studied him. “It is not something I expect from you, but it is something I expect you to make an honest effort to learn. If you do learn it, good. If you do not, it does not matter. You are a Class 5 telepath. It is good enough.”
Eridan smiled wryly. He couldn’t help but think that Idhron just didn’t want him to become as powerful as him.
Idhron pinned him with a stern look, walking back to him. “What I will demand of you is hard work and loyalty. You will do everything I say, no exceptions.”
“If you wanted blind obedience, you picked the wrong initiate,” Eridan said with a smile. “I have never been all that good at following the rules.”
Idhron narrowed his eyes. “Then you will learn,” he said coldly. “Or I will cast you aside, and no other Master will choose a cast-off.”
Eridan glared at him, his good humor vanishing. He felt that sickening lurch in his stomach again, the edges of his vision turning red as his hand clenched into a fist. He knew what was about to happen, but this time he let it. He imagined choking the life out of that asshole, imagined the life fading out of his emotionless eyes—
And yet, nothing happened.
Idhron’s gaze turned positively icy. He said softly, “Lesson one: never make an attempt on someone’s life if you cannot actually accomplish it and not get caught.”
Eridan swallowed and looked down.
“Lesson two.” Idhron gripped Eridan’s chin hard and yanked his face up to meet his eyes. “Your actions were extremely foolish and short-sighted, given that you know that I am a stronger telepath than you. What were you hoping to accomplish with this pathetic attempt at attacking me?”
“You made me angry.”
“I did,” Idhron said, looking unfazed. “And it was a test. One that you failed.”
Eridan wet his dry lips. “What do you mean?”
Idhron held his gaze. “Getting rid of your emotions may not be a requirement, but it does not mean I will not expect you to learn how to control them. Your anger is a liability. I cannot teach you how to control this curious gift you possess, but I can teach you how to control your anger, so that your emotions do not control you. Unchecked emotions can be a great weakness, Eridan. My apprentice should be smarter than that. If you get angry with someone more powerful than you—socially, politically, or telepathically—the right reaction would be to feign subservience and wait until you become powerful enough to destroy them.”
Goosebumps ran down Eridan’s spine. There was something about the way Idhron said that…
A nervous laugh bubbled up from his chest. “So I should have just sucked up to you and plotted your death behind your back? Is that what you’re saying?”
Idhron inclined his head. “Essentially. You will learn that to survive in the High Hronthar’s social climate, you will have to do quite a bit of ‘sucking up,’ Eridan. It has always been that way.”
Eridan looked at him skeptically. He couldn’t imagine this haughty, cold man acting subservient.
As if reading his thoughts, Idhron said, “Yes, I did it, too. And I still do it, to a degree, with the Chapter and the Grandmaster.”
Eridan snorted, thinking back to the Chapter meeting he had seen. “If that was you being subservient, you didn’t fool anyone, Master.”
Idhron’s lips twitched. “At this point, I do not need them to buy it, Eridan. They are happy enough that I am still willing to keep up the appearance of them controlling me.”
“But why?”
“You will learn that using people’s fear is always a balancing act. You cannot make them too afraid or they will unite against you to bring you down. I might be a Class 7 telepath, but I am only one man. Even I will not be able to protect myself if twenty-two other members of the Chapter decide that I am too dangerous. Hence the balancing act.”
Eridan’s brows drew together. “You are being very candid,” he said suspiciously. “I’m certain you don’t trust me, so why are you being so open?”
He felt something like cold amusement coming off Idhron.
“I’m glad you are smart enough to realize that,” Idhron said, his fingers releasing Eridan’s chin and sliding along his jawline until they eventually settled just below his left ear, almost touching Eridan’s telepathic point.
Eridan shivered, his body tense as he watched Idhron warily.
“You understand that I cannot trust you without any additional assurances,” Idhron said. “Therefore, I will have to create a bond between us.”
“What?” Eridan whispered, his eyes widening. Although a telepathic bond between a Master and an apprentice was nothing unusual, it was unheard of to form a bond with an initiate the Master hadn’t yet claimed. If Idhron really cast him aside, no other Master would ever choose him. He truly would be considered used goods. Eridan had always thought that it was unfair that Masters only wanted apprentices with untouched telepathic cores, but it was what it was.
“You can’t do that,” Eridan said, his heart beating faster. “I’m not your apprentice yet.”
“Unless you want me to erase your memo
ry of this conversation, you will allow me that,” Idhron said, watching him with a strange expression. “It is your choice, Eridan.”
Eridan glared at him, knowing that it wasn’t a choice at all. Although he was apprehensive about allowing this man inside his mind, the other option was even worse. He didn’t want his memories to be messed with, especially by a Class 7 telepath. A bond seemed like the lesser evil.
“All right,” he said reluctantly.
Idhron pressed his thumb against his telepathic point, and Eridan shivered again, something in him lurching, needing. “What is that?” he said, looking at the Master suspiciously.
“Our minds are very compatible,” Idhron said in distaste. “It is unfortunate, but there is nothing we can do about it.”
Eridan was confused. “Isn’t mental compatibility good for bonding?”
Idhron’s telepathic presence became rather sour. “Usually, yes. But a higher mental compatibility also means a higher emotional transference. I didn’t eradicate my emotions just to be subjected to yours.”
“It’s not like you don’t feel emotions at all,” Eridan said, scoffing. “I can sense when you get annoyed, for example.”
Idhron looked at him flatly. “Your sensitivity to other people’s emotions is just unusually high. And it is not as though I do not feel emotions at all. My capacity for them is simply very limited, and the emotions I do feel are very fleeting and shallow, like mild annoyance. I am not capable of strong, lasting emotions that distract people like you. Now be quiet.” Idhron’s gaze became a little unfocused. “I am going to establish the bond now. Do not resist.”
Eridan did his best to bring his mental shields down and relax, but he still gasped as he felt Idhron slip inside his mind. It felt… strange. Invasive and intense, but weirdly good, too. He trembled as Idhron’s mental presence touched his pulsing telepathic core and wove itself around it. Oh. This felt absurdly pleasurable. Eridan could feel a golden thread start forming around his core, connecting their minds: the bond. No one had told Eridan bonds felt so good.
“Because they do not always do,” Idhron’s voice said in his head, startling him. “My training bond to my former Master did not feel like this. We were not so compatible.”
Eridan could sense that he didn’t consider that a flaw, as opposed to the bond between them, which was clearly flawed, in Idhron’s opinion.
Eridan rolled his eyes. For some weird reason, he felt a lot more relaxed around Castien Idhron now that he had him in his mind.
“It is the bond,” Idhron informed him, unprompted. “It provokes a false sense of ease and intimacy. I advise you not to trust that feeling.”
“Yes, our bond is horrible and disgusting—I get it,” Eridan told him. “It’s a pity you’ll have to live with it.”
“Don’t get cheeky with me, Eridan,” Idhron said before pulling out of his mind.
Eridan swallowed his disappointment, the feeling of ease and closeness disappearing.
He opened his eyes and was momentarily disoriented, looking at Idhron’s closed-off, icy exterior. Not that Idhron had felt warm in his mental landscape, but he definitely hadn’t felt cold, either. He had seemed more… approachable when they had communicated mentally. The man Eridan was looking at didn’t look approachable in the slightest.
“It is done,” Idhron said. He frowned. “Since your apprenticeship is probationary, you cannot be granted a residence in District Two yet. They are only for registered apprentices. But you cannot stay in the Outer District, either. It is too far and constantly fetching you would become tiresome very fast.” His lips thinned. “You will have to live here for now.”
Eridan blinked. “Here? You want me to live with you?”
“Master,” Idhron stated, his eyes narrowing.
“What?” Eridan said, confused.
“You will always address me as Master now. I have had enough of your impudence. And to answer your question, yes. You will stay here. There are more than enough rooms in my house for your presence not to be too bothersome.”
“I’m starting to wonder why you wanted an apprentice at all,” Eridan said with a humorless laugh. “If I’m nothing but an inconvenience to you.”
Idhron gave him a long look Eridan couldn’t read at all. “I am not an unreasonable man, Eridan,” he said at last. “Prove your worth to me, and you will not be an inconvenience.” He glanced at his watch. “I am departing for the Deniz Colony of the First Grand Clan in less than an hour. I will be gone for three or four days. Make yourself at home while I am gone.”
“You mean… You mean I can pick any room I want?”
Idhron paused and looked back at him.
Eridan suddenly felt awfully transparent. Well, he probably was, considering that the other man was a Class 7 telepath who had direct access to Eridan’s mind.
“You may choose any bedroom but mine,” Idhron said after a moment. His gaze swept over Eridan’s clothes. “And have my servant order you new clothes. Initiates’ robes are no longer suitable for you. Although you cannot yet wear apprentices’ robes, you will need a new set of clothes in neutral colors. My apprentice cannot look shabby.”
Eridan flushed, feeling a little humiliated. Although he took great care of his clothes, there was no hiding the fact that they were hand-me-downs from numerous other initiates that had worn them before him.
“All right, Master,” he said, swallowing his pride. It was difficult. His pride had always been one of his greatest flaws. Eridan didn’t even know why he was so proud. Sometimes he thought that his birth family might have been noble, though he hadn’t been able to confirm it. The information on the birth families of the initiates usually wasn’t included in their records, and Eridan only knew he had been a three-year-old when he was brought to Hronthar. He remembered next to nothing from his life before the Order and what little he could remember he didn’t trust, because it made little sense.
When the silence stretched and Idhron was still standing there, looking at him expectantly, Eridan scowled, realizing what the man was waiting for.
“You’re not officially my Master yet,” he grumbled, pouting.
The look Idhron gave him was uncompromising. “I will not demand it every time we part, but you must get used to doing it while we are in public. I do not tolerate disrespect, and it would be taken as a sign of disrespect by others if you do not behave like a good apprentice should.”
Sighing, Eridan took the few steps that separated them, dropped to his knees, and bowed his head. “Master. May you have safe travels.”
He didn’t lift his eyes, waiting for Idhron’s reaction. The High Hronthar’s etiquette was—unnecessarily, in Eridan’s opinion—complicated. Some Masters were more lenient, but Masters from old, traditional lineages like Idhron usually followed the old customs. There were a number of ways the Master could respond to a traditional farewell, depending on the Master-apprentice relationship and how much the Master valued their apprentice.
He cringed a little on the inside, expecting that Idhron might make him kiss the hem of his black robe, or worse, his boots—customs that were considered outdated and unnecessarily demeaning by modern High Hronthar’s standards, but still largely acceptable, especially if the Master and the apprentice didn’t have the best relationship.
But to his relief, Idhron offered him his ring.
Eridan brushed his lips against the black gemstone and looked up.
Blue eyes were watching him with an unreadable, fixed expression.
Something clenched in Eridan’s stomach.
“Thank you, Eridan,” his Master said.
As Idhron retrieved his hand, the tips of his fingers brushed against Eridan’s chin, and Eridan shivered as his telepathic presence surged forward, trying to draw his Master in, the bond between them pulsing with need.
Idhron’s lips thinned slightly. “You will work on your shields while I am gone,” he said before striding out of the house.
Eridan didn’t know how lo
ng he stayed there, on his knees, looking blankly at the spot where his Master had just been.
Shields. Right.
Chapter Four: Tests
Master Idhron’s servant was a young man called Javier. He was just five years older than Eridan and was a pleasant, no-nonsense kind of person.
“How long have you been serving him?” Eridan asked curiously as he and Javier ordered new clothes online.
“Just a few months,” Javier said, brushing his hair back.
He was a good-looking guy, Eridan thought. They looked a little alike, actually. Javier’s hair was darker, and his face was a little rounder, but their features and builds were similar enough for them to be mistaken for relatives.
“What is it like?” Eridan said, curious despite himself. Everyone always said how terrible it was not to be claimed by a Master and become a member of the servicing department of the Order, but Eridan had never actually spoken to a servant. There were no servants in the Outer District. All he knew about servants was that they could specialize in a vast variety of fields, some more important than others.
Javier shrugged. “It’s all right. Master Idhron is a decent enough employer. He’s demanding, but I’ve had worse.”
“What do you mean?”
Javier made a face. “My previous employer wanted me to perform services I don’t specialize in, services I didn’t want to perform, and I had to file a complaint.”
Eridan cringed. “You mean they wanted you to service them sexually?”
Javier laughed. “That wasn’t the issue—I am a pleasure servant first, after all. The problem was, she wanted me to perform acts I didn’t agree with in my contract with her.”
Eridan opened his mouth and closed it.
“You’re a pleasure servant?” he whispered at last, wide-eyed. If Javier was a pleasure servant, that meant… “You have sex with Master Idhron?!”
Javier laughed at his expression. “Gods, you’re such a kid. Of course I do. That’s my job.”
Eridan could only stare at him.