Author: Alessandra Hazard
Category: LGBT
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“All right, Master,” Eridan said, dropping his gaze to make it more difficult for Idhron to read his thoughts. Not that lack of eye contact would stop a Class 7 telepath if Idhron really wanted to know his thoughts.
“You are dismissed, then,” Idhron said.
Eridan stood and turned toward the door, but then paused. Since they weren’t parting for long, it wasn’t expected of him to kiss an item of his Master’s clothing. Most Masters seemed to like being bowed to. He should probably do that if he wanted to cultivate a good working relationship with Idhron, which he did want, regardless of his personal dislike. The truth was, he would get either Castien Idhron as his Master or no one. So pleasing him was the smart thing to do.
Too bad Eridan had never been good at doing the smart thing. Something about Castien Idhron made Eridan want to ruffle his feathers, unsettle him enough to crack his perfect exterior.
“Good night, Master,” Eridan said, darting forward to brush his lips against Idhron’s cheek.
When he pulled back, he almost laughed at Idhron’s expression.
Putting on his most innocent face, Eridan bowed slightly and hurried out of the study.
He allowed himself to laugh only in the privacy of his own room.
Chapter Five: Nameday
If Eridan had thought being preliminarily chosen by Master Idhron had been isolating, it was nothing compared to how isolated he felt as a probationary apprentice. He now didn’t fit anywhere: neither with the initiates nor with the apprentices. The few classes Eridan still shared with the initiates had become downright unbearable, the toxic jealousy of other initiates making it hard to breathe.
As for the apprentices, they tended to look down on him, since he still wasn’t good enough to join their ranks. But at the same time, they were wary of him, because he was apprenticing under the great and terrible Castien Idhron. That was the thing about being an apprentice: you were always judged not only on your own merits, but on who your Master was. An apprentice might be highly intelligent and powerful, but if their Master wasn’t, they weren’t as respected as they otherwise could have been, and vice versa.
It was all rather exhausting—and exhaustingly confusing. Eridan had quickly grown to dislike the convoluted mess that was the social hierarchy among the apprentices.
Truth be told, he much preferred spending time with his Master.
If seven months ago someone had told him that he would prefer Castien Idhron’s company to that of his peers, Eridan would have laughed in disbelief.
But he did like spending time with his Master, even though he wasn’t sure he even liked him.
Castien wasn’t a good man. Eridan had been right to suspect him of being a cold-hearted, manipulative bastard; he was that, and more. The better Eridan had come to know him, the more confirmation of Castien’s ruthlessness he had gotten. Castien was something of a sociopath. His utter disregard for other people’s feelings was startling. He didn’t seem to feel any guilt or remorse for mistreating others. To be entirely fair to his Master, Eridan was pretty sure Castien often didn’t even notice that his actions or cutting words might hurt others. Castien Idhron found people interesting only when he could use them to achieve his goals. If his Master had any feelings and emotions, they were so deeply hidden they might as well not exist.
Eridan knew he should despise Castien—he was easily the most horrible person he had ever known—and he did despise him, but truth be told, at this point, he was kind of desensitized to his Master’s horribleness. Eridan blamed their bond. Over the past seven months, it had become so strong that he could always vaguely feel his Master on the other end of the bond, something that should have felt invasive and creepy but didn’t. Eridan found their bond weirdly comforting, especially since he knew how much his Master disliked it.
Castien Idhron disliked anything he didn’t control, anything that wasn’t something he had manipulated into existence, and that only made Eridan like their bond more. And it was all Castien’s own fault, anyway. The “controlled exposure” to his mental touch only strengthened their bond, and Eridan’s “distasteful” addiction problem wasn’t going anywhere, to his Master’s displeasure and Eridan’s amusement.
Though it did worry Eridan a little that he wasn’t making any progress on that front. He might despise his Master, but he hated disappointing him even more. Castien’s disappointment was the worst. It wasn’t at all like normal people’s disappointment: it was one of the two negative emotions his Master allowed himself to display. Unlike Castien’s displeasure, which was his equivalent of anger, it wasn’t amusing in the slightest. His Master’s disappointment made Eridan feel small. Inadequate. Unworthy.
He knew he shouldn’t feel this way—he shouldn’t strive to earn the approval of such a horrible person—but he couldn’t help himself. Castien’s rare praise never failed to put Eridan in a good mood, and his disappointment never failed to ruin Eridan’s day. He hated himself for feeling this way, but it was what it was.
At that moment, he felt a nudge through their bond. “Come here,” his Master’s voice said in his head.
Eridan frowned and headed downstairs, allowing the bond to lead him toward Castien.
It appeared he was in his study.
Eridan didn’t knock, since he was summoned. He entered the room, a little anxious. He couldn’t remember a single occurrence of his Master actively using their bond in such a way. Castien usually liked to pretend their bond didn’t exist when he wasn’t using it for training purposes. The bond did make learning the mind arts easier: it helped Eridan to be more focused, and he could actually meditate when he used the bond as his anchor.
“You wanted me, Master?” Eridan said, trying to read Castien’s inscrutable face as he walked closer.
“Sit.”
Eridan sat in his usual chair and looked at his Master curiously. “I thought you had a Chapter meeting today.”
“It finished early,” Castien said, eyeing him with a strange expression. “Today is your nameday.”
Eridan blinked. Was it? He’d completely forgotten.
It was custom for members of the Order to celebrate their nameday instead of their birthday: the day they had gotten their new, unique name and started a new life. Eridan, like most initiates, didn’t even know his birthday. He only knew that he was registered as three years old on the day he was Named. This was his sixteenth nameday, which made him biologically nineteen years old, though he had probably been nineteen for a while.
It was probably a little pathetic that he hadn’t even realized that this was his nameday: it made it glaringly obvious that he didn’t have any friends to congratulate him, which was pretty much why Eridan had always disliked namedays. They just made him feel even more lonely than usual.
“Oh,” he said, averting his gaze.
“I summoned you to discuss your progress,” Castien said.
Eridan’s stomach dropped. It had been stupid to think even for a moment that his Master actually cared enough to congratulate him. Castien Idhron was the last person who would care about such sentimental things as namedays.
“Your progress in most subjects has been satisfactory,” Castien said.
Eridan’s lips twitched. Satisfactory meant “good” in Castien-speak.
“With a few notable exceptions,” his Master added.
Eridan pouted, which earned him a flat look.
“Your mind-reading ability isn’t where I would like it to be,” Castien said. “And you are still abysmal at meditating without me.”
“But Master,” Eridan said. “It’s not my fault I can’t focus without you guiding me. It’s a condition; it’s not something I made up!”
Castien gave him a pinched look. “You are going to milk this for all you can, are you not?”
Eridan grinned. “Of course. Healer Zchen did confirm that I suffer from a mild form of attention deficit hyperactivity disorder.”
“I am quite certain the ‘mild form’ was the key part of y
our diagnosis,” Castien said dryly. “In any case, I can hardly waste so much of my time on meditating with you. Therefore, I have decided that from now on, you will be meditating with Master Tker—”
“No!”
Castien’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I beg your pardon?”
Eridan swallowed. He was well aware that the Master had ultimate power over the apprentice’s education. Technically, he had no right to object to any decision Master Castien made concerning his studies.
But…
“Master,” he said, dropping to his knees in front of Castien’s chair. He picked up his Master’s hand and kissed his black ring, looking him in the eye. “I don’t want anyone else inside my mind. Only you. Please, Master.”
Castien’s face was completely still, his gaze unreadable as he stared at him.
“This will not work, Eridan,” he said at last. “You can stop batting your eyelashes. I will not change my mind.”
“I’m not ‘batting my eyelashes,’” Eridan said indignantly. “That’s my face.”
Castien’s lips twitched. “Indeed it is.”
“Master, please,” Eridan said softly, dropping his gaze before looking back into Castien’s blue eyes. “I really hate the thought of some stranger touching my mind. It makes me sick.”
Castien’s lips thinned. “That is precisely why you need someone else to guide you. You are too used to me. Master Tker might succeed in teaching you to meditate where I failed.”
Eridan scoffed. “Right. You’re the best mind adept of the Order.”
“That may be true, but unlike me, Master Tker specializes in meditation. He might be able to help you.”
“I don’t want him to help me,” Eridan grumbled.
“Eridan,” his Master said coldly. “Stop being a child. My decision is final. You have an appointment with Master Tker tomorrow evening at eight o’clock.”
Eridan scowled and stormed out of the room, all etiquette forgotten. If his Master had an issue with it, fuck him. Why should he care about the opinion of someone who didn’t care about his? Who was so eager to pass him to another Master and let another man mess with Eridan’s mind?
His eyes were stinging, and Eridan told himself those were tears of anger, not hurt.
***
The appointment with Master Tker was as disastrous as Eridan had expected.
“Drop your shields and let me in,” Master Tker said, looking at him impassively.
Eridan tried, he really did, but as soon as he felt Tker touch his mind, he slammed his shields down.
“Initiate Eridan!” Master Tker said.
Eridan ground his teeth, glaring at the man. He hated it when people addressed him like that instead of as Apprentice Eridan. Although both forms of address were valid while he was a probationary apprentice, most people still addressed him as apprentice. Tker clearly wanted to put him in his place.
“I’m trying, Master,” he ground out.
Your mind just feels wrong.
Eridan didn’t say it; he knew better. An apprentice was never supposed to get attached to one telepathic presence, especially that of their own Master. Training bonds were just training bonds; they weren’t at all like the strong marriage bonds artificially formed between Calluvian couples. A good mind adept of the Order was supposed to be able to navigate through any mind, without feeling aversion to telepathic contact with strangers. Admitting that Eridan didn’t want to feel any other mind but his Master’s would be grounds for immediate expulsion to the servicing department.
So he clenched his jaw and tried again, trying to relax enough to drop his shields.
He thought it worked for a moment—he could feel Tker enter the outer layers of his mind—but when the man slid deeper, Eridan shoved him out, nausea rising up his throat. Wrong, wrong, wrong. He opened his eyes and stared at Master Tker warily, his muscles tense and shields back in place. He couldn’t do it.
“I can’t do it,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t touch me.”
Master Tker shook his head, looking disturbed. “I’m surprised Master Idhron has tolerated such a disobedient learner for so long. I will report this to him, of course.”
“Do whatever you want,” Eridan said and all but ran out of the room. He felt… He felt vaguely dirty. Violated, even though Tker had barely touched his mind. He wanted…
He wanted his Master.
Eridan scowled at the thought. What was wrong with him? His Master was the reason he felt like this. If Castien cared about him even a little bit, he wouldn’t have done this. This was all Castien’s fault.
He still wanted his Master. Wanted his Master’s presence in him to chase away the wrong, nauseous feeling in his mind.
Eridan sighed, exasperated with himself. He looked around and realized that his feet had brought him to the castle. He could sense that Castien was somewhere close. Right. The Chapter had a meeting that day.
He should leave.
But he wanted his Master.
He should leave, dammit.
Eridan chewed on his lip, torn between his anger and the terrible yearning in his mind. Castien was a heartless bastard who didn’t give a shit about him. He shouldn’t need him. Not to mention that Castien wouldn’t lift a finger to make him feel better once he found out about Eridan’s less-than-proper conduct with Master Tker. In fact, Eridan wouldn’t be surprised if that would be the last straw that would finally make Castien send him to the servicing department.
Because Castien wasn’t really his Master yet. It was just a test run. The test run he was clearly failing.
Eridan wandered out onto the terrace and sat down on an ancient stone bench. Pulling his knees to his chest, he wrapped his arms around them and stared out into the darkening sky. The twin moons were rising.
All these years, since he was seven, he had tried so hard to be better, to prove to Castien Idhron that he was good enough, but it was clearly futile. He would always have qualities undesirable for an apprentice: he was too emotional, too temperamental, too proud, too squeamish. He would never become a good mind adept if he was so squeamish about a simple joint meditation—if a shallow contact with an unfamiliar telepath made him want to puke and run to his Master like a big baby.
“Eridan?”
He flinched and turned his head, his eyes widening when he saw Castien walking toward him briskly. “What is wrong?” the older man said, his inscrutable gaze sweeping over him.
“What do you mean?”
His Master gave him an impatient look. “You were projecting misery so strongly it was probably obvious to everyone in the area, much less to me. What is the matter?”
Eridan shrugged and dropped his gaze. “Master Tker will probably complain to you soon enough. There’s no point in making you listen to this twice. You should go back to the Chapter meeting, Master.”
He could feel Castien’s intent gaze on the side of his face.
“I take it your meditation with Master Tker did not go well?”
Eridan snorted humorlessly, putting his chin on his knees. “You could say that. He’ll probably tell you to ditch me.” He smiled crookedly. “And he would probably be right.”
Silence.
At last, he felt his Master sit beside him on the bench. “You will look at me when I speak to you.”
Reluctantly, Eridan did.
They just looked at each other for a while. Castien’s expression was as unreadable as ever, but Eridan could sense… he could sense something like displeasure through their bond, only stronger.
“Did he hurt you?” Castien said stiffly. “You feel… odd.”
“He didn’t hurt me,” Eridan said. “I just hated it. I feel dirty on the inside.”
Castien’s lips pressed into a thin line. He looked away for a moment before sighing and looking back at Eridan. He put his hand on Eridan’s nape carefully, his thumb pressing over his telepathic center.
Eridan shivered, eager.
Finally, Castien pushed inside. A small si
gh of relief left Eridan’s mouth as his Master’s cool, familiar presence washed over him, chasing away the lingering slimy, wrong feeling.
He made a protesting noise when Castien pulled out. “Master—”
“I have to return to the meeting,” Castien said. “Go back to the house and wait for me. We need to talk.”
Eridan eyed him in confusion. He didn’t understand him at all sometimes. Whenever he started thinking that he had Castien Idhron all figured out, his Master kept completely surprising him. Although Castien wasn’t a kind man at all, sometimes he could be… almost kind. Eridan tried to think of any ulterior motive Castien might have for this kindness, but he couldn’t think of any way this would benefit him. Though Eridan couldn’t be sure Castien wasn’t just postponing his reprimands until they were in the privacy of his mansion.
“All right, Master,” he said, giving Castien a small, tentative smile.
A muscle twitched in Castien’s jaw. He stood and strode away, his dark robe billowing after him.
Eridan went home.
Home. It felt strange that he had already started thinking of Master Castien’s mansion as home.
It was probably inadvisable, but Eridan couldn’t help himself. It was his safe place. No one mocked him, hated him, looked down on him or sneered at him in his Master’s house. He was largely left to his own devices, and by an unspoken agreement, he was in charge of the house when his Master wasn’t there.
Eridan went to his Master’s study and curled up in the chair by the fireplace. Its warmth was comforting. Although Calluvia didn’t have winters like most other planets did—the climate was artificially regulated—it was always rather chilly up in the mountains, and sitting by the fireplace in Castien’s study had become Eridan’s favorite pastime. His Master didn’t seem to mind as long as he was quiet.
He wasn’t sure when he had dozed off, but he must have, because the next thing he knew, his Master was shaking him awake.
“Eridan.”
He opened his eyes blearily, his mind still hazy with sleep. “Master,” he murmured, reaching out to run his fingers over Castien’s firm jawline. The older man’s stubble prickled his skin. “Are you angry with me? You feel angry.”