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Sample post for Animus
The scratching of a pen was all the sound in the depth of the night, the candle guttered but did not go out, shining its small light on the room, a typical trainee room, two beds, two trunks, and an array of weapons both real and practice hung up on pegs or leaning against the wall. In one of the beds a young girl was fast asleep, seemingly unaware of her roommate sat on the second bed scribbling furiously.
Nesir stifled a yawn and kept on writing, it was almost time to wake up, and she had not even slept yet. She was writing an essay on the history of darkness monsters, a subject she knew nothing about, at least not in the amount of detail that was needed for this essay. It was one she was writing for Herin, the acolyte apparently couldn’t be bothered to write his own essays. If it wasn’t for Ral; Nesir would just refuse, or mess up the essays on purpose. Though she wasn’t a fan of being beaten up herself, it didn’t matter, for she would merely remember every strike and pay them back blow by blow when she was stronger and had more power. But it was not really fair for Ral to be hurt because Nesir did something, and though Ral was as much a light god fearing fool as the rest of them Nesir felt protective of one of the two people who had actually been nice to her in this Temple.
Her leg was starting to seize up, she had been in the same position for hours now, she shifted slightly and stretched out her leg to relieve the numbness. She stifled a curse as her foot knocked over the bottle of ink. She reached over to grab it, almost dropping it again in her haste. But the damage was done. She stood up and surveyed it, placing the now almost empty ink pot on the side. The essay she was writing was ruined, Herin was going to kill her. There was a large ink stain on her bed, and her trouser leg and the cuffs of her uniform were dyed black; no matter about Herin, some warrior was going to beat her til Midwinter!
She crept out the room to the basin that she and Kes shared with the room next door and scrubbed her hands; in vain as it did not remove the ink, merely made the stains larger, she cursed again and returned to her room, using a cloth to wipe the bottle of ink clean.
She would have to go and wash her uniform and bedding before the bell rang. She quickly took off her ink stained uniform and pulled on her spare uniform. It needed washed too but Nesir figured it would do while she went to the laundry room, she gathered the bedding and her ink stained uniform, just as the bells went clanging around the temple.
This was not her day. Nesir dropped the pile of sheets back on to the bed and gathered up her papers and books for the day, putting them in a brown canvas bag that went over her shoulders. Ral’s sister, a young priestess in training, had bought them in town the week before as presents. Nesir, who was very wary of things given to her had accepted hers begrudgingly, but she had to admit it was very useful, it meant she didn’t have to keep coming to her room throughout the day, and it kept her books and essays dry in the seemingly constant rain.
Kes had woken up at the bell and was getting up, Nesir left the room quickly so she didn’t have to speak to her. She had not even got out of the barracks when a call stopped her. Making her face totally blank Nesir turned around to see a warrior her over, Nesir approached and stood to attention, expecting trouble.
She got it, the man looked at her with the usual stony expression before speaking in a seemingly bored voice, “Trainee you are aware we have rules about the state of uniform yes?” Nesir resisted the urge to pull a face but kept her face blank and tried to keep any hint of sulleness out of her voice as she answered.
“Yes Sir,”
“What are you doing walking around like that then, girl? Go get your spare uniform immediately and put it on,” the warrior’s voice held contempt, either for Nesir’s uniform, or the fact he had to deal with it; Nesir did not know.
“My other one do be dirty too, sir,” Nesir knew this would make the warrior angry, but he would be more angry if he saw Nesir in her ink stained uniform. “I did be getting ink on it,” she explained in a blank tone.
The man’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, “You will report to the laundry room during breakfast, you will wash both your uniforms and then you shall report to me for an inspection before going to your training. Now get to exercises.” Nesir hid a scowl and bowed before hurrying off.
She arrived in the training yard among the milling trainees. Spotting Ral she hurried to go and stand by her friend. Ral gave her appearance a sideways look but had no time to ask before they were called to attention.
Running is quite difficult after having had no sleep, Nesir found herself slipping back down the ranks and glared at Ral when she realised the boy was keeping pace with her.
“Did you go out again last night?” Her friend hissed at her as they ran. Nesir glared at him again and shook her head. Ral strongly disapproved of Nesir going to the inns in the city and getting drunk, even though Nesir had never turned up to training drunk after the first time.
“I was writing an essay,” she hissed back, annoyed at her friends suspicion. Ral opened his mouth to retort but a shout from a watching acolyte had them both pick up their pace and they ran the rest of the way in silence. As the bell rang for breakfast Nesir headed back to the barracks, after telling Ral she couldn’t have breakfast and promising to explain later.
She grabbed her ink stained uniform and the sheets and marched off to the laundry room. It took a long time for her to scrub the ink stains from her uniform and bed sheets, knowing that if she left the sheets there would likely be a surprise inspection or such.
The warrior nodded curtly when Nesir reported to him. “Better, now get to class before you are late,” Nesir nodded sullenly and left, her stomach grumbling from lack of food.
Her first class was awful, unarmed fighting whilst hungry and tired. Worse she was paired with a trainee who was one of Herin’s friends, a boy close to being tested for acolyte who had decided he had had enough of being a punching target and sold his soul to them. Or perhaps Herin had seen the cruel potential in him and offered him a way out. Nesir did not know truthfully but it was enough that the boy was not one of ‘them’ and he seemed to be trying to prove his allegiance to Herin by attempting to hurt Nesir as much as possible. Nesir was equal to him in this style of fighting and gave as good as she got. Herin would probably make her pay later but she was already in trouble for ruining the essay and so a little bit more pain would do nothing. Or so she told herself.
She spent the next hour polishing armour, which had to be the most boring chore ever invented. Most of the armour probably didn’t even need it as it was polished four times a day. Useless chores annoyed her, but at least Ral was in her chore section with her. In a quiet voice Nesir told him what had happened and why she had not been at breakfast. Ral pulled a face and told her he would come with her when she broke the news about the essay to Herin. Nesir told Ral not to be stupid but Ral would not hear of her going alone. Nesir sighed but did not argue more, after all she would probably do the same for Ral. No one else though, which was the difference between them, Ral would go through fire to help anybody, because he was just like that. Nesir would not, she did not even know why she would ever help Ral except that the boy was the only person in this temple that did not drive her crazy.
She had a class next, a theory lesson that drove her insane, history lessons, history that Nesir had known since she was tiny, the crimes that the light gods followers had committed against the shadow servants, though the temple did not call them that, they called them ‘victories’, death was only murder when it was a light god addled that died. Still Neisr copied down notes dutifully for the hour and was even relieved when the bell went to signal lunch, even if that meant seeing Herin.
She met up with Ral at lunch and they ate quickly, so that they got something to eat before Herin and Saered found them. The two acolytes did so eventually and Herin demanded his essay. “I do no be having it,” Nesir muttered. Herin’s eyes darkened.
“Come on, outside,” knowing that arguing was useless Nesir stood up and followed Herin, Ral and Saered followed. They got to a quite part of the yard and Herin moved. It still surprised Nesir how fast the acolyte could move, but she barely had time to think about that before her head was smashing against the wall. She couldn’t move, she was pinned to the wall, pain, she tasted blood. It could be dealt with, Nesir grasped out at the emptiness, light god followers used the emptiness to help them concentrate, to improve their aim, to clear their thoughts, to allow them to do things they believed wrong. Nesir had been taught the void by Kant for this reason, to escape from pain.
Her awareness heightened but she no longer felt. No fear, no shame, no guilt at the anguished look in Ral’s eyes where he stood; held by Saered. “Where’s the essay Nesir,” the man asked, anger tinting his voice. Nesir reached round into her bag, Herin let the pressure off her a little bit but his eyes glittered promises of pain if Nesir tried anything. Nesir took out the ink ruined essay and handed it to Herin.
Footsteps faded away, and she heard someone approach. It was Ral, Nesir opened her eyes and let go of the state of emptiness. Pain flooded her and she gasped, struggling to keep her face emotionless as she met Ral’s eyes. Ral helped her up as Nesir tried to work out what was actually damaged and what was just hurting. Ral’s lip was bleeding as well, but Nesir did not ask about it. They did not speak just went over to the well and drew water to wash their faces.
Bells rang through the tower and it was time for more chores. The two trainees trudged off to the kitchens, hobbling slightly but being able for the most part to ignore the pain. An hour scrubbing pots under the hawk-like eyes of the Mistress of the Kitchens was painful and her wooden spoon awoke all the bruises that Nesir had. There was no talking here, she would hit anyone who dared break the busy quiet of her realm. Nesir thought that even the temple heads would think twice before going against this woman.
She was glad when the hour was over and was glad to be back out in the yards and sparring. Her and Ral sparred, practicing what they had learnt from their lessons about fighting with no weapons. Sparring together was not bad, they went easy on each other knowing that each hurt as much as the other. There teacher could find no mistakes or criticisms to give them for once and it was the probably the best thing to happen all day.
The class next was one on daggers, Nesir liked this lesson. Though she hurt from the beating Herin had given her the class let her forget it. There was something very soothing about repeatedly stabbing practice dummies. They were learning about the anatomy, knowledge Nesir had had since she was young, but it was good to put it to practice. Where was best to stab so she would damage someone the most. Nesir had to be careful not to show that she had prior knowledge in this, but that was a skill much practiced and so she was able to feign a few mistakes, but keep her teachers happy with her.
It was late afternoon and the sun was beginning to set as Nesir found herself once again working beside Ral. They had a lot of chores to do, because apparently it taught them character. Really Nesir thought it was just to annoy them, and to waste their time. Currently Nesir and Ral were scrubbing the steps of the battlements. Steps that would be muddy again after they had finished, useless work and work that annoyed Nesir.
The two worked in silence, never being too far away from each other, as they swept the yards in the fast approaching darkness. This slot of chores was the worst, because acolytes had their free time. Herin and his cronies often came to make their lives miserable. Tramping through freshly scrubbed halls with muddy boots, or knocking over pales of water, tripping over people who were working.
Nesir kept her temper, just. They were finishing their work when Herin and Saered approached them, hissing that they were to meet them in the usual corner of the yards in their free time. There was nothing they could do about it, the bullies ‘summoned’ their victims on random days, so not to be caught. Not going made things worse, but they had a lesson before that so there was no point worrying.
The next lesson was even more stupid, different types of guises creatures of the shadow servants could take. Nesir did not know what was worse, the anger on the teachers face as he spoke of the dark creeping in to destroy them all, or the look of pathetic fear on the faces of the pathetic light addled trainees she was stuck learning with. More knowledge that Nesir knew already, dark monsters were brutish stupid creatures. The light worshipers feared them, and that took their fear away from where it should truly be. Nesir knew that she would rather face a monster or two, intent on having her for dinner than face Elina when she was angry. Monsters would just kill you, Elina could make you live in agony for a very long time.
She had managed to eat her lunch, she had not really expected to be allowed to eat dinner as well and so she was not too surprised when Herin shouldered her out the way on the bench and took her meal. Saered was there too and Nesir and Ral sat silently, it was not worth arguing. One meal in the day was more than what they sometimes got.
The two of them left, escaping the hall. They would have to face Herin and Saered once dinner was over but they could escape for the time being. They wandered the garden, not talking, taking solace in silence. They were both tired, the days were long and by the time it got to dinner they were exhausted. It was to teach them endurance, Nesir assumed, and hoped that by the time she was a warrior, if she ever became a warrior... she would have much more energy than now.
The bells rang, marking the hour. They had an hour free time now, a privilege, but not for Ral and Nesir. Resigned they both made their way to meet Herin. It was silly little chores that the acolyte made them do, things that could be easily done and were just meant to annoy those that the acolyte bullies tormented.
Herin was in a foul mood; he had gotten punished for the ruined essay, and was determined to take his anger out on Nesir. As Nesir scrubbed the acolyte's uniform Herin cuffed and cursed at her. Nesir was in a difficult situation, she could not argue back, because the man hated her accent and speaking in it earned her a kick. Of course Nesir could speak in a non Gauigish way, but to do so would be to admit defeat and so in defiance Nesir just didn’t speak.
Bruised and angry Nesir left the barracks at the bell, she was meant to be doing her homework and then she had more chores before she could finally fall into the oblivion of sleep. But she hurt too much and had to get away. Sneaking out the tower was easy if you knew how to. She wrapped the cloak Lotte had bought her round herself, glad for its warmth and entered the town. As long as she kept her cloak wrapped round her no one would know she was a trainee.
She soon arrived at one of Jacin’s regular inn’s. The man spotted her and waved her over, the innkeeper grumbled, he did not like Nesir being here. He thought he would get into trouble with the temple, but so far he had not kicked Nesir out. A few others had but Jacin stopped going there, he could not gamble if Nesir was not there.
Nesir grinned at him, hiding the pain. Jacin did not mention her bruises; he was used to Nesir turning up battered and bruised. He never questioned and Nesir was glad about that. That was why she liked the inns, it was like home, and no one cared. No one tried for false sympathy or pretended they cared where she came from, who she was or what she did for a living. They had respect for her quick hands and quick eyes and cursed her when she won too many times. she was not cheating though and though they had tried to accuse her of it they had found no proof.
A few mugs of beer later Nesir did not feel as sore, the night pased pleasantly. She won a lot and Jacin was happy, he did not begrudge Nesir the two coins for every win and tonight on the last win; a big win the pieces he gave Nesir were worth more than the usual pennies she was given. Nesir grinned and slipped the money into her pocket.
Happily drunk Nesir returned to the Temple. She had not done her homework but she was going to sleep tonight. She would be punished but she didn’t really care. She was tired and she needed sleep, for tomorrow it would all start again. Every day was the same, the only thing that differed was the amount of pain she was in at the end of it.
Nesir stifled a yawn and kept on writing, it was almost time to wake up, and she had not even slept yet. She was writing an essay on the history of darkness monsters, a subject she knew nothing about, at least not in the amount of detail that was needed for this essay. It was one she was writing for Herin, the acolyte apparently couldn’t be bothered to write his own essays. If it wasn’t for Ral; Nesir would just refuse, or mess up the essays on purpose. Though she wasn’t a fan of being beaten up herself, it didn’t matter, for she would merely remember every strike and pay them back blow by blow when she was stronger and had more power. But it was not really fair for Ral to be hurt because Nesir did something, and though Ral was as much a light god fearing fool as the rest of them Nesir felt protective of one of the two people who had actually been nice to her in this Temple.
Her leg was starting to seize up, she had been in the same position for hours now, she shifted slightly and stretched out her leg to relieve the numbness. She stifled a curse as her foot knocked over the bottle of ink. She reached over to grab it, almost dropping it again in her haste. But the damage was done. She stood up and surveyed it, placing the now almost empty ink pot on the side. The essay she was writing was ruined, Herin was going to kill her. There was a large ink stain on her bed, and her trouser leg and the cuffs of her uniform were dyed black; no matter about Herin, some warrior was going to beat her til Midwinter!
She crept out the room to the basin that she and Kes shared with the room next door and scrubbed her hands; in vain as it did not remove the ink, merely made the stains larger, she cursed again and returned to her room, using a cloth to wipe the bottle of ink clean.
She would have to go and wash her uniform and bedding before the bell rang. She quickly took off her ink stained uniform and pulled on her spare uniform. It needed washed too but Nesir figured it would do while she went to the laundry room, she gathered the bedding and her ink stained uniform, just as the bells went clanging around the temple.
This was not her day. Nesir dropped the pile of sheets back on to the bed and gathered up her papers and books for the day, putting them in a brown canvas bag that went over her shoulders. Ral’s sister, a young priestess in training, had bought them in town the week before as presents. Nesir, who was very wary of things given to her had accepted hers begrudgingly, but she had to admit it was very useful, it meant she didn’t have to keep coming to her room throughout the day, and it kept her books and essays dry in the seemingly constant rain.
Kes had woken up at the bell and was getting up, Nesir left the room quickly so she didn’t have to speak to her. She had not even got out of the barracks when a call stopped her. Making her face totally blank Nesir turned around to see a warrior her over, Nesir approached and stood to attention, expecting trouble.
She got it, the man looked at her with the usual stony expression before speaking in a seemingly bored voice, “Trainee you are aware we have rules about the state of uniform yes?” Nesir resisted the urge to pull a face but kept her face blank and tried to keep any hint of sulleness out of her voice as she answered.
“Yes Sir,”
“What are you doing walking around like that then, girl? Go get your spare uniform immediately and put it on,” the warrior’s voice held contempt, either for Nesir’s uniform, or the fact he had to deal with it; Nesir did not know.
“My other one do be dirty too, sir,” Nesir knew this would make the warrior angry, but he would be more angry if he saw Nesir in her ink stained uniform. “I did be getting ink on it,” she explained in a blank tone.
The man’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, “You will report to the laundry room during breakfast, you will wash both your uniforms and then you shall report to me for an inspection before going to your training. Now get to exercises.” Nesir hid a scowl and bowed before hurrying off.
She arrived in the training yard among the milling trainees. Spotting Ral she hurried to go and stand by her friend. Ral gave her appearance a sideways look but had no time to ask before they were called to attention.
Running is quite difficult after having had no sleep, Nesir found herself slipping back down the ranks and glared at Ral when she realised the boy was keeping pace with her.
“Did you go out again last night?” Her friend hissed at her as they ran. Nesir glared at him again and shook her head. Ral strongly disapproved of Nesir going to the inns in the city and getting drunk, even though Nesir had never turned up to training drunk after the first time.
“I was writing an essay,” she hissed back, annoyed at her friends suspicion. Ral opened his mouth to retort but a shout from a watching acolyte had them both pick up their pace and they ran the rest of the way in silence. As the bell rang for breakfast Nesir headed back to the barracks, after telling Ral she couldn’t have breakfast and promising to explain later.
She grabbed her ink stained uniform and the sheets and marched off to the laundry room. It took a long time for her to scrub the ink stains from her uniform and bed sheets, knowing that if she left the sheets there would likely be a surprise inspection or such.
The warrior nodded curtly when Nesir reported to him. “Better, now get to class before you are late,” Nesir nodded sullenly and left, her stomach grumbling from lack of food.
Her first class was awful, unarmed fighting whilst hungry and tired. Worse she was paired with a trainee who was one of Herin’s friends, a boy close to being tested for acolyte who had decided he had had enough of being a punching target and sold his soul to them. Or perhaps Herin had seen the cruel potential in him and offered him a way out. Nesir did not know truthfully but it was enough that the boy was not one of ‘them’ and he seemed to be trying to prove his allegiance to Herin by attempting to hurt Nesir as much as possible. Nesir was equal to him in this style of fighting and gave as good as she got. Herin would probably make her pay later but she was already in trouble for ruining the essay and so a little bit more pain would do nothing. Or so she told herself.
She spent the next hour polishing armour, which had to be the most boring chore ever invented. Most of the armour probably didn’t even need it as it was polished four times a day. Useless chores annoyed her, but at least Ral was in her chore section with her. In a quiet voice Nesir told him what had happened and why she had not been at breakfast. Ral pulled a face and told her he would come with her when she broke the news about the essay to Herin. Nesir told Ral not to be stupid but Ral would not hear of her going alone. Nesir sighed but did not argue more, after all she would probably do the same for Ral. No one else though, which was the difference between them, Ral would go through fire to help anybody, because he was just like that. Nesir would not, she did not even know why she would ever help Ral except that the boy was the only person in this temple that did not drive her crazy.
She had a class next, a theory lesson that drove her insane, history lessons, history that Nesir had known since she was tiny, the crimes that the light gods followers had committed against the shadow servants, though the temple did not call them that, they called them ‘victories’, death was only murder when it was a light god addled that died. Still Neisr copied down notes dutifully for the hour and was even relieved when the bell went to signal lunch, even if that meant seeing Herin.
She met up with Ral at lunch and they ate quickly, so that they got something to eat before Herin and Saered found them. The two acolytes did so eventually and Herin demanded his essay. “I do no be having it,” Nesir muttered. Herin’s eyes darkened.
“Come on, outside,” knowing that arguing was useless Nesir stood up and followed Herin, Ral and Saered followed. They got to a quite part of the yard and Herin moved. It still surprised Nesir how fast the acolyte could move, but she barely had time to think about that before her head was smashing against the wall. She couldn’t move, she was pinned to the wall, pain, she tasted blood. It could be dealt with, Nesir grasped out at the emptiness, light god followers used the emptiness to help them concentrate, to improve their aim, to clear their thoughts, to allow them to do things they believed wrong. Nesir had been taught the void by Kant for this reason, to escape from pain.
Her awareness heightened but she no longer felt. No fear, no shame, no guilt at the anguished look in Ral’s eyes where he stood; held by Saered. “Where’s the essay Nesir,” the man asked, anger tinting his voice. Nesir reached round into her bag, Herin let the pressure off her a little bit but his eyes glittered promises of pain if Nesir tried anything. Nesir took out the ink ruined essay and handed it to Herin.
Footsteps faded away, and she heard someone approach. It was Ral, Nesir opened her eyes and let go of the state of emptiness. Pain flooded her and she gasped, struggling to keep her face emotionless as she met Ral’s eyes. Ral helped her up as Nesir tried to work out what was actually damaged and what was just hurting. Ral’s lip was bleeding as well, but Nesir did not ask about it. They did not speak just went over to the well and drew water to wash their faces.
Bells rang through the tower and it was time for more chores. The two trainees trudged off to the kitchens, hobbling slightly but being able for the most part to ignore the pain. An hour scrubbing pots under the hawk-like eyes of the Mistress of the Kitchens was painful and her wooden spoon awoke all the bruises that Nesir had. There was no talking here, she would hit anyone who dared break the busy quiet of her realm. Nesir thought that even the temple heads would think twice before going against this woman.
She was glad when the hour was over and was glad to be back out in the yards and sparring. Her and Ral sparred, practicing what they had learnt from their lessons about fighting with no weapons. Sparring together was not bad, they went easy on each other knowing that each hurt as much as the other. There teacher could find no mistakes or criticisms to give them for once and it was the probably the best thing to happen all day.
The class next was one on daggers, Nesir liked this lesson. Though she hurt from the beating Herin had given her the class let her forget it. There was something very soothing about repeatedly stabbing practice dummies. They were learning about the anatomy, knowledge Nesir had had since she was young, but it was good to put it to practice. Where was best to stab so she would damage someone the most. Nesir had to be careful not to show that she had prior knowledge in this, but that was a skill much practiced and so she was able to feign a few mistakes, but keep her teachers happy with her.
It was late afternoon and the sun was beginning to set as Nesir found herself once again working beside Ral. They had a lot of chores to do, because apparently it taught them character. Really Nesir thought it was just to annoy them, and to waste their time. Currently Nesir and Ral were scrubbing the steps of the battlements. Steps that would be muddy again after they had finished, useless work and work that annoyed Nesir.
The two worked in silence, never being too far away from each other, as they swept the yards in the fast approaching darkness. This slot of chores was the worst, because acolytes had their free time. Herin and his cronies often came to make their lives miserable. Tramping through freshly scrubbed halls with muddy boots, or knocking over pales of water, tripping over people who were working.
Nesir kept her temper, just. They were finishing their work when Herin and Saered approached them, hissing that they were to meet them in the usual corner of the yards in their free time. There was nothing they could do about it, the bullies ‘summoned’ their victims on random days, so not to be caught. Not going made things worse, but they had a lesson before that so there was no point worrying.
The next lesson was even more stupid, different types of guises creatures of the shadow servants could take. Nesir did not know what was worse, the anger on the teachers face as he spoke of the dark creeping in to destroy them all, or the look of pathetic fear on the faces of the pathetic light addled trainees she was stuck learning with. More knowledge that Nesir knew already, dark monsters were brutish stupid creatures. The light worshipers feared them, and that took their fear away from where it should truly be. Nesir knew that she would rather face a monster or two, intent on having her for dinner than face Elina when she was angry. Monsters would just kill you, Elina could make you live in agony for a very long time.
She had managed to eat her lunch, she had not really expected to be allowed to eat dinner as well and so she was not too surprised when Herin shouldered her out the way on the bench and took her meal. Saered was there too and Nesir and Ral sat silently, it was not worth arguing. One meal in the day was more than what they sometimes got.
The two of them left, escaping the hall. They would have to face Herin and Saered once dinner was over but they could escape for the time being. They wandered the garden, not talking, taking solace in silence. They were both tired, the days were long and by the time it got to dinner they were exhausted. It was to teach them endurance, Nesir assumed, and hoped that by the time she was a warrior, if she ever became a warrior... she would have much more energy than now.
The bells rang, marking the hour. They had an hour free time now, a privilege, but not for Ral and Nesir. Resigned they both made their way to meet Herin. It was silly little chores that the acolyte made them do, things that could be easily done and were just meant to annoy those that the acolyte bullies tormented.
Herin was in a foul mood; he had gotten punished for the ruined essay, and was determined to take his anger out on Nesir. As Nesir scrubbed the acolyte's uniform Herin cuffed and cursed at her. Nesir was in a difficult situation, she could not argue back, because the man hated her accent and speaking in it earned her a kick. Of course Nesir could speak in a non Gauigish way, but to do so would be to admit defeat and so in defiance Nesir just didn’t speak.
Bruised and angry Nesir left the barracks at the bell, she was meant to be doing her homework and then she had more chores before she could finally fall into the oblivion of sleep. But she hurt too much and had to get away. Sneaking out the tower was easy if you knew how to. She wrapped the cloak Lotte had bought her round herself, glad for its warmth and entered the town. As long as she kept her cloak wrapped round her no one would know she was a trainee.
She soon arrived at one of Jacin’s regular inn’s. The man spotted her and waved her over, the innkeeper grumbled, he did not like Nesir being here. He thought he would get into trouble with the temple, but so far he had not kicked Nesir out. A few others had but Jacin stopped going there, he could not gamble if Nesir was not there.
Nesir grinned at him, hiding the pain. Jacin did not mention her bruises; he was used to Nesir turning up battered and bruised. He never questioned and Nesir was glad about that. That was why she liked the inns, it was like home, and no one cared. No one tried for false sympathy or pretended they cared where she came from, who she was or what she did for a living. They had respect for her quick hands and quick eyes and cursed her when she won too many times. she was not cheating though and though they had tried to accuse her of it they had found no proof.
A few mugs of beer later Nesir did not feel as sore, the night pased pleasantly. She won a lot and Jacin was happy, he did not begrudge Nesir the two coins for every win and tonight on the last win; a big win the pieces he gave Nesir were worth more than the usual pennies she was given. Nesir grinned and slipped the money into her pocket.
Happily drunk Nesir returned to the Temple. She had not done her homework but she was going to sleep tonight. She would be punished but she didn’t really care. She was tired and she needed sleep, for tomorrow it would all start again. Every day was the same, the only thing that differed was the amount of pain she was in at the end of it.