IX
In Barrack Four


Shira took slow steps up to the Barrack Four. As she paused before the door, she heard laughter, chatter, vibrating notes of some instrument, all mingling in a chaos unlike anything she had heard in years. Suddenly, she picked out Anne’s voice.

“Hey, Kyle, do you know ‘The Nowhere Road’?”

“Nah, I haven’t heard that one,” a deep young man’s voice replied.

That’s the black-haired boy I first met at the inn!

“Oh. Well, maybe you could learn it sometime. It’s a great song,” Anne said, a bit wistfully. “It’s so great that you snuck your guitar in.”

“I’m having the hardest time with it. It was hidden fine behind the potato reserves for a few days, but that new squad leader, Lloyd, suspects something.”

“You don’t like Lloyd, do you?” Anne asked.

“Lloyd?” another voice broke in. “I can’t stand him!”

“He’s the worst squad leader ever to see the light of day,” another voice added.

“He’s a slave driver,” Kyle muttered.

“Ah, well, there’s people here I like less,” a new voice added.

“Like who?” someone asked.

“Oh, lots of people. Like that queer girl, Shira.”

Shira breathed very quietly.

“Oh, Shira,” Kyle’s voice nearly spat, and then filled with mock admiration. “She went to the School of Mages, you know. Which is why she’s so much better than us all. She doesn’t even need to give us a word as she passes.”

Shira had begun sliding a toe away from the door when Anne’s voice interceded.

“You’re not being fair,” Anne reprimanded. “She’s really nice.”

“A real nice snob,” someone put in.

“She’s just shy,” Anne said.

“She could at least give a smile now and then,” another joined in. “Or join us in the evening.”

“She’s been feeling sick in the evenings lately,” Anne said defensively. “That’s why she hasn’t come.”

“I don’t believe it,” Kyle stated. Before Anne could reply, the quick silence faded to a light strumming of guitar strings. Everyone listened for a few chords.

I- don’t lie. When I say I feel sick, I can hardly stand…

“Give Shira a chance,” Anne said quietly.

“I have no love of mages, or anyone who was ever studying to be one,” Kyle said.

Who is Kyle to say I lie?

“A failed mage is the best mage,” someone quipped.

A quick tingling spread over Shira.

Kyle replied, “But I’ll take someone who’s no mage at all over a failed mage any day. And I’ll take even a failed mage over Shira.”

The strumming intensified for a moment.

In a breath, the tingling was gone, replaced by a tension that burned with strange heat.

“Forget it,” Anne’s voice urged. “She’s like everyone else. She’s not even allowed to meditate anymore.”

“Hmph. Mages. Meditating all the time and acting like they’re pure good. But they’re not. They don’t care about anybody but their own kind.”

That’s not true! The bitterness in Kyle’s voice became even more apparent. “If they really wanted to help people, they’d be in the battlefield, with us.”

Shira’s burning intensified.

“Kyle,” Anna said, a bit patronizingly. “There are mages out in the battles.” A few scattered giggles replied.

“How many, though?” Kyle answered. “Two? There are whole schools and cloisters hidden away. I grew up in town full of mages, and I can tell you, all they do is order people around.”

He’s wrong-

“They’re good for nothing.”

Mages don’t feel this way!

Kyle’s hand was still making quiet chords.

This is like… like anger-

“Know who’s going to win this war? People like us.”

I’m not supposed to feel-

The guitar rose to a soft climax.

“Our blood and muscle’s the thing that keeps the enemy from overrunning us. Fighting is supposed to be done with guns.”

Mages don’t-

“Mages, peh.”

“Mages aren’t like that!” Shira spoke strongly from where she stood in the open doorway. Wide eyes stared at her.

“Shi…” Anne’s attempt at speech faded away. “Shi… ra..”

“Maybe mages aren’t perfect, but you don’t know how much time they spend working and meditating to make themselves better so that they can do something great for this war, for this whole country!” Shira’s heat flushed her cheeks and filled them with clarity. She felt as if she had never thought so clearly.

Kyle had recovered enough to put his guitar down with a discordant underhum. “Why’d you even leave your mage school?” he growled. “If you loved it so much, and thought mages were so great, why’d you come here?”

“That doesn’t matter now! You, you’re telling lies about what mages think and trying to tarnish reputation and that’s wrong! That is wrong!

“What am I supposed to do?” Kyle asked. “Give respect to those people who think that meditation solves everything? ‘Oh, no, people are fighting, people are dying, I’d better meditate!’”

“Don’t use that voice!” Shira yelled.”You’ve never seen the face of a head mage trying to decide whether to send his soldiers to war. You’ve never found a trance-“

“So, you’ve found a trance, and suddenly, you’re supposed to be so much better than me! You’re still protected even though you’re never going to be a mage! If I were to hit you or curse at you, I break some law. I can be punished just for speaking my mind to some girl! You act like you can just hide in its protection and you don’t have to live in the real world, with us! You know, I don’t care if you rat me out to one of your higher-ups. I’ll say what I damn well please. Most of us here are going to really fight in a battle to save our country, but you just waltz in and automatically offered a position as a medic just because you studied for a bit at some distant school. Everyone kowtows to you and you’ve done nothing! Makes me so mad!”

“You don’t know what mages are.”

“Sure I do. I grew up with mages everywhere.”

“You have never, never lived the life of a mage, and until you do, you do not have the right to say anything about mages.”

“I can say anything I want-“

“I can’t stop words from coming out of your mouth, but you should not talk about things you know nothing about,” Shira said, her clear heat spilling out of her. “You’re wrong to…” Shira looked past Kyle for a quick moment and saw the many pairs of white-rimmed eyes staring at her. What am I doing here?

“…to tell lies like that,” Shira finished quickly.

Kyle glanced at each face around him, but all were blank with astonishment and stared at Shira. He reached back for his guitar and pulled it into his lap. Without looking at the instrument, he began moving his fingers up and down the strings in short, jerky motions. He suddenly opened his mouth to talk.

Shira took a short, awkward bow, turned, and left through the open door.


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