Chapter 113: No Answer

Book 3, Chapter 12 - No Answer

Aaron's eyes constantly flickered to the glazed strawberry placed upon a cream topping on an otherwise plain pound cake. Temelia sat opposite of him, two elbows resting on the table, high cheeks cupped in both her hands. She had a deep honey complexion and tended to keep her smooth black hair tied back in a long tail —bound at the top of her head rather than the back— that reached her waist. Aaron shuffled in his chair. Temelia was staring at him with narrowed light-brown eyes. Her brows were thin and shaped like a wave. An equally thin smile touched her lips.

“Aren't you going to dig in?” she asked.

Aaron blinked, eyes flickering to the strawberry again. They were rare in these parts. Rare and expensive. Temelia had somehow managed to convince the baker to add the berry without bribing him. She'd touched the plump man's chest and whispered something in his ear. Some sort of blackmail maybe?

She glanced off down the busy street, thin smile holding. Her lips were as red as the berry. She'd applied makeup even though she wasn't working. Aaron thought that strange. “I know I'm beautiful,” she said. “I get told that almost every day, you know? It's flattering really, that you're having trouble deciding between me and the cake.”

Aaron frowned, quite aware that he'd been staring at her, waiting for her to dig in first. The cake was purchased with Lera's money. It was for his birthday. But Temelia supposedly hadn't been eating very often. Still though, his eyes flickered to the strawberry again. “You eat first,” he said.

Her sleek brow went up as if the wave had climbed too high and was about to crash down. “Hahh, what am I doing talking to a nine year old as if I were working,” she sighed, shaking her head. “You know this is the baker's personal patio, right? I convinced him to let us use it, but we can't well sit here all day. His wife went out in the morning. The woman could be back at any moment. Start eating already.”

Aaron crossed his arms. “No you.” He eyed the berry again. The aroma of baked goods flowing from the house behind them tugged on his mental restraints. He swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

“He really is an angel,” Temelia muttered, staring off down the street again. “Look, Aaron, if this is about how much I eat, just know that maintaining an appearance is necessary with our work. I can't eat too much.”

“Or too little.” Temelia dressed herself differently from most women. She wore a strange robe of many folding layers that hugged her skin tight, revealing the shape of her body. While worn tight, the clothes seemed a little loose of late. She'd gotten thinner. And Aaron didn't like that. She was taking it upon herself to care of others at her own expense. He needed to do the same. He was to be a king after all.

“Mhm. And the strawberry? Should I eat that too?”

Aaron looked away. “…Could you cut that in half?” he mumbled.

“Hmm?”

“I said, could you cut it in half!” he declared with a scowl. His stomach made an embarrassing noise. Aaron looked down at his lap, blushing. His mood got worse upon seeing his own ragged clothes, wondering what passersby were thinking of one of his mothers when seeing her with him.

Temelia sighed again. She took a knife and cut off the top layer of the round cake, placing it before him, leaving herself with the majority of it, though without any cream or strawberry. “The berry was for you, dear angel. And the cream has too much fat I think. I'm still eating most of the cake. Is that enough for you?”

He looked at her. Her high cheeks seemed to glow under Seldar's hot sun. Faint traces of sweat upon her face accentuated her beauty. Her eyes flickered to the berry she'd set before him. She wanted it. He could tell. He nodded regardless, poking at his portion with a double pronged silver fork. The baker had even lent them silverware.

Aaron put the corner of the fork in his mouth. His smile returned once the sweet cream embraced his tongue. He shoveled forkfuls into his mouth while Temelia ate small bites and chewed with her mouth closed, graceful in every movement. He caught her glancing at the berry again. Aaron split the berry in half with his fork as best he could and offered one half to her.

Temelia's eyes lit up. “Oh, Aaron. If only you were a little older…”

“Why?” he asked.

“Nothing.” She stood up and wiped the edge of his mouth with a handkerchief. “Come on. Let's get going before we're scolded.”

He followed her outside the fenced area of the patio and took her hand as they walked down the street. Hardly anyone spared them a glance. People in this particular area of Seldar seemed well dressed, their clothes carrying bright colors and flowery weavings. Men were commonly dressed in half-sleeved tunics with baggy trousers whilst the women mostly wore robes that reached their ankles.

To Aaron, a boy in rags, they offered fleeting sneers and avoided him by several feet. The wealthier among them walked with hands clasped at their bellies, large rings adorning their tanned fingers, and an entourage of two or three maids following with at least one of them carrying a parasol. They held their heads up high when walking past Temelia —the women especially making an obvious point of it, heels clacking on the cobbles as if deliberately trying to show off their wealth and superiority. She, in turn, smirked at each and every one of them, her height at least a half inch taller than most others even though they wore heels.

Aaron clutched Temelia's hand tight. This wealthier portion of Seldar had many guard patrols walking around in groups of four, their leather armor bearing Tarmia's scarlet hand over their hearts.

Guards…

They guarded nothing and were more likely to cause people pain. He glared at every passing patrol squad. They paid him no heed. I'm insignificant , Aaron realized. A nothing. An urchin with spindly arms and no means to fight armed and trained men. It was for him his family was abused. For him that his mothers suffered.

“You don't like them very much do you?” Temelia asked, looking down at him. He was hardly waist height to her. “The guards I mean. I heard from Lera last night…”

Aaron bit his lip, staying silent. He could still remember the face of the guardsman. Remember the stench of his alcoholic breath and the sound of his disgusting cackles. He grit his teeth, now more stomping than walking.

Temelia pulled him in close, picked him up, and placed him on her shoulders. “You know, when I was younger, my teacher would always tell me that revenge is a fool's task. Do you agree with that, Aaron?”

“No,” he snapped. He looked down at everyone. From atop Temelia's shoulders, everyone seemed so small. So useless. So insignificant just as he really was. Was that how ragged children were seen by adults?

“Hmm. You didn't even spare a second to think. I was told that those who seek revenge are weak. They seek it because they were weak enough to be wronged in the first place. Thus, the only way to avoid revenge is to be strong enough and smart enough to avoid being wronged.”

Aaron frowned. That made no sense. “What about the needy? The unfortunate? The poor? Isn't it a king's job to protect everyone in a lesser position than him?”

“A king, hmm? That's an interesting perspective for one so young,” Temelia mused. She turned the corner to a more familiar street. One with many small shops and stalls and fountains. A busier street, but with less guards and colorful dresses. “Think smaller. It is a guardsman's job to protect the city. Yet, the protector with strength can oppress the ones he is charged with protecting. Is revenge still a fool's task then?”

“No,” Aaron said again. She wasn't making a counter point. She was only affirming his position.

“Then what is the solution?”

“Taking revenge.”

“But you're too weak to take revenge. Thus, you confirm that you are a fool.”

Aaron frowned. “You're talking in circles,” he complained. “What's your solution?”

“For those that are too weak, for those like us , I don't have a solution,” she finished.

Aaron rested his hands on her head, fiddling with the band binding her hair. “Then why bring it up?” he asked, confused.

“Oh, I don't know. I guess what I meant to say was don't be a fool and do anything silly. We all love you, Aaron. Just, I guess, let us protect you until you're strong enough to return the favor.”

He thought for a moment. Temelia turned another corner. Amidst the talking people, the sound of lute strings hung in the air the clearest. A travelling troupe was performing nearby. “I have a solution,” Aaron said. “Become a king. Then, there will be no one stronger than you!”

“Again about a king? Normally, boys your age are looking to steal princesses from Heartless monsters or go traipsing in the woods in search of myths and treasures. Even a king —assuming he is just— cannot see what happens in dark corners or behind closed doors. You wouldn't be here if that were the case. Neither would I. Or anyone else for that matter.” Temelia gently squeezed Aaron's shins. “Maybe that's a good thing. We wouldn't have met you, our little angel, if that were the case. Wouldn't have experienced the joy that we do spending time with you. Try looking for a positive, Aaron. If all you do is seek revenge and control, you'll end up becoming like those guards that hurt Lera.”

Aaron stayed silent. He didn't agree. Couldn't agree. He would never become like them. And there was nothing good about this situation. Nothing good about getting laughed at for his ragged clothes. Nothing good about being beaten by Delin, or seeing his mothers accrue more bruises after every night. That's why he needed to get strong enough to protect them. And strong enough to take revenge on anyone that hurt them behind his back.

Behind my back…

A king doesn't have eyes everywhere . Aaron racked his brain for an answer while still fiddling with Temelia's hair band. She let him down once they reached the gates of Celestial Whispers. He frowned, scratching his own head. He took her hand again. He couldn't think of an answer. There was no way for him to protect everyone always. All he could do was gain more power. Gain more strength and control over everything and everyone around him. That seemed the only logical option. Be powerful. More so than anyone or anything.

Fire ruins those who ruin. The Originator. That was the answer. Become a force of destruction. If everyone feared retribution, they wouldn't act unjust. They wouldn't oppress their lesser because… because they too would be oppressed?

Aaron scratched his head furiously. Rule by fear is what a tyrant did, Lera once said. Then was the Will of Fire wrong? Was everything he knew wrong? Was there something he just couldn't see? Something Lera hadn't taught him?

Temelia looked down at him with a curious expression. Aaron shuffled closer to her, wanting to be hugged but not saying it. “There's no answer,” he muttered.

She knelt down before him. “You were thinking about that still? Lera really did raise a strange one.” She hugged him tight as if reading his mind. “There is an answer,” she whispered into his ear. “Do your best. That's all any of us can do. Do your best and pass on what you've learned. Maybe, one day, when enough teachings have been passed down, the world will be only right and never wrong.”

“But people want different things. What someone thinks right, someone else might think wrong.”

Temelia cupped his cheeks in her hands. “Is this because you don't have other children to play around? You're too young to learn philosophy. Forget we had this talk. Think about what kind of cake you want to eat when next we go out.” She opened the doors and pushed him inside. “Think about something normal, like your aspirations maybe. You're not cute at all when thinking too hard.”

Aaron knew what he wanted to be. He wanted to be a king as his mother claimed he was supposed to be. He wanted enough strength to save everyone. Keep them all near him and sheltered in his pen so that they would never be hurt again by others.

“You're still thinking, aren’t you?” Temelia accused.

He looked her in the eye. “Yes,” he said, smiling. “Because I aspire to save you all and everyone else I can.”

She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Of course you do,” she said. “Because you're an angel.”

Aaron wondered if her scarlet painted lips would leave a mark on his skin.