With Open Eyes

[Thrayjen]

?Then he just pushed by me, walked right back down the passage and ignored me as I yelled after him. ?Hope guides us?, tch. If the plan is to close your eyes and hope for the best, it?s not much of a plan.?

Thrayjen blew steam from his tea, sipping gingerly and savoring the sweet taste of the blend he had concocted for Foxglove from Aldridge?s old herbs.

The young mouse sat in Aldridge?s old chair, staring into the fire Thrayjen had built, ignoring her own cup and the flattened sandwiches beside her. Her silence had stretched for hours as Thrayjen visited her, attempting conversation and failing to bring the redness from the mouse?s eyes.

From Adeen?s chair, Rinam looked at the rat seated upon the floor yet still eye level with her. She lifted her tea to her pursed lips.

?A desperate measure from the rebellion. Perhaps closing their eyes and hoping is the best they have.?

?Then they need to wait until they have something better,? Thrayjen grumbled. ?I don?t think Komi realized how many are going to die. Or who, for that matter. Boars don?t care if you wear a collar or a blue uniform or nothing at all.?

?I should tell Nire,? Thrayjen said, looking into the flames. ?Stop this before it starts.?

?Why?? Foxglove?s head turned enough to let the rat see her confusion. ?Even if he believed you...what good would it do??

?It would save lives,? Thrayjen answered, tilting his head.

?The lives of the beasts who let this all happen,? Foxglove said gloomily.

?And the lives of those who know nothing else.? Rinam looked at Thrayjen as she countered young Aera?s voice. ?Like our prince once was, the beasts of Northvale are now. Hungry for carnage and amusement.?

?The boars...they won?t help, Foxglove.? Thrayjen pressed. ?Violence leads to more violence. If Nire ever falls, another will be there to pick up the slack. Another and another, until a dynasty is cemented in history. We stick to Aldridge?s ideas. Change the minds of the beasts, and you change their ways. We must give them a chance.?

?They don?t deserve one,? Foxglove mumbled. ?Uncle was wrong, and now he?s dead.?

Thrayjen looked to the ceiling and pictured the Barrow marks.

?I didn?t think I deserved a chance. Then Nan offered one to me and I found happiness for the first time in seasons.?

?Nan??

?Helix and Verna?s grandmother,? Thrayjen explained, nudging Aera?s plate towards her with his tail. The mouse scowled but picked up her sandwich and took a tentative bite. Thrayjen continued, smiling with the small victory.

?I had been running for years, never staying in one place too long. Too worried about beasts recognizing me or my brother?s trackers finding me. Those seasons...they weren?t good to me. When I stumbled across Nan?s little shack, I was so tired, so hungry, I thought I?d die there.?

Thrayjen closed his eyes, imagining the scent of flowers. Thousands of colourful petals and leaves, fields of wild and planted crops littered with broken stone fences. Rain. It had been raining. His paws were filthy, his fur spiked with mud. The oak tree.

He had been digging. Burying. Burying his past. Thrayjen opened his eyes.

?I don?t know why I did it...but I got to the door and I knocked. It didn?t feel right to just push the door open, as abandoned as the place looked. I knocked, and I waited. Poor Nan must have been so frightened, but she opened the door anyways. Always open the door in the rain, she told me afterwards.?

A soft laugh. His smile wavered.

?She took me in without hesitating. Fed me, boiled some water so I could wash, wrapped me in a blanket.? A pleasant warmth, gentle and comforting, wrapped around him. ?All while her two grandbabes slept in the corner.?

?You could have slit their throats in the night,? Foxglove whispered with a note of horror.

?Once upon a time, I may have. Nan showed me kindness when I hadn?t experienced any before. She...she let me hold the babies when my cough eased a few days later. She gave the Blackwhiskers a baby to hold. She gave me a baby to hold and trusted me with her.?

Gold glinted as Thrayjen?s mouth parted in a wide grin.

?Little Verna, my Sweetnose, was the most precious thing I had ever seen. Even her wee spikes were soft and delicate. She was so little, she fit in my paw. And she opened her eyes and...and she just smiled at me. No one had ever smiled at me with such blind love. I never wanted to let her go. So I stayed. I never meant to, but Nan was old back then, even, and her palsy was getting worse. She couldn?t tend her fields like she wanted, couldn?t get to market and back on her aching bones, and one day I realized she would die before the children were old enough to fend for themselves. I couldn?t let that happen.?

The rat sipped at his tea, frowning at the tepidness.

?And now I?m here. Still trying to protect them.?

?What happened to Nan?? Foxglove asked. The mouse tightly clutched at the arm of her chair.

?She died. Peacefully, in her sleep. Like she deserved.? Thrayjen sighed quietly. ?That was the night the slavers came. I never got to finish her pyre.?

Several salty trails snaked down Foxglove?s cheeks. The mouse eased back into her chair, crossing her arms fussily over her chest before frustration guided her paw to slam down on the chair arm.

?That?s not fair,? she hissed.

?That?s not the point,? Thrayjen gently said. ?Nan took me in and trusted me. She didn?t have to. She didn?t know anything about me, but she knew a beast in need when she saw one. She gave me help, and in doing so she gave me a chance at experiencing an actual life outside of fear and anger and evil. It?s what Northvale must be offered.?

?They chose this way of life already,? Aera insisted.

A log tipped over in the hearth. Sparks showered the air, though nobeast moved for a long time to correct the flames.

?Tell me about Celine,? Rinam said.

?No,? Thrayjen whispered.

?Foxglove needs to understand.?

?Understand what? Who?s Celine??

?Understand that not everybeast deserves a chance,? Rinam answered simply, moving to stoke the fire back to life. ?But the good that comes of patience and understanding can defeat the darkness.?

?Oh. Aldridge told me some stories,? Foxglove said with clear disinterest. ?I?ve heard of the things you did, back...before Nan, I guess.?

?He kept the worst from you, I?m sure. I still have my secrets.? Thrayjen set his teacup down and crossed his legs. He leaned his paws on his knees, rocking back and forth until Rinam?s stare revealed there would be no escaping her.

?I loved Celine,? Thrayjen started softly. Neither mouse urged him on, even as the minutes went by and Rinam added another log on the flames.

?I loved her. But she didn?t love me.? The rat held young Aera?s gaze, his body beginning to tremble as her white fur gleamed orange. ?I didn?t care enough to notice. I did...terrible things to her.?

Thrayjen swallowed and inhaled a long, deep breath.

?We grew up together. She was just a slave, but she was born special. Pink eyes.? The rat?s eyes locked with the Pearl Dawn?s. ?White fur. And so she was given to me, a playmate of sorts. Someone I could torment in lieu of the children of noble birth. I wasn?t supposed to take to her so; she was just meant to be a whipping pup, but she didn?t simper to me like the other children. She was brave, and bossy. She feared nothing when she was with me, and we...Well, we were brats. Mostly me. I dragged her around everywhere with me. She used to sleep in my room when we were dibbuns because I couldn?t sleep without her, even after Greyvayyan was born. That habit never changed.?

The memories awoke no gentle laughter nor nostalgic smiles. Instead, a silent tear rolled from his eyes and dripped from his chin.

?As we got older, I??

A wave of painful regret enveloped Thrayjen. His claws dug into his flesh as he mouthed silent words he had never spoken out loud. His courage abandoned him, leaving him with only the wide and shocked eyes of Foxglove and Rinam?s quiet breathing. He forced himself to keep his eyes open, to push himself. He owed it to Celine.

?I took her as my mistress. She had always been mine, but I wanted more than her company. She f-fought me the first time. I didn?t think anything of it. I made up reasons and justified myself. She was shy, but that would fade. I was her prince, her friend. I loved her. Of course she wanted me. Celine stopped meeting my eyes after that. Started to shy away from me. I thought she was bashful, or modest. Frightened of my brother, maybe, of what he could do. He was the only beast aside from Father I ever yielded to.?

A wince. A slow breath.

?Greyvayyan was always jealous of her. He didn?t want to share me, especially with a slave. But Greyvayyan...when Curathalla died and Greyvayyan became king, he gave me an ultimatum. Leave her be or he?d kill her.?

A bitter snarl formed on Thrayjen?s maw, lips pulling back to reveal teeth and gold.

?I should have listened to him, but I was selfish and didn?t. When he found out I kept carrying on with my lovely Celine?he dragged us both to the High Tower and told me either to push her off or he would.?

The snarl grew fiercer, his words a wild growl.

?What did I know about love?I raised my sword against him. I loved her so much, I raised my sword against my brother and king and Celine laughed. She laughed for the first time in seasons and stepped off the tower.?

Thrayjen?s jaw tightened and snapped shut with a click of teeth. His trembling stilled and he realized at some point he had stood up. The rain outside pounded upon the bowyery roof; the hollow noise echoed in his chest.

?It crushed me. She?d have rather died than live by my side. Every idea about myself, my world, was changed. Greyvayyan kept me close for a while and I did his bidding but I couldn?t stay there. I stole my brother?s sword and fled north. I learned what it was to be hungry, and to fear. I was cast upon the mercy of the world after showing it none and...at the end, there was Nan.?

Thrayjen walked over to the table, pouring himself a fresh cup of tea. He felt oddly tired, as though waking from a restless sleep.

?Do I deserve a second chance, absolutely not. But I was given one anyway. That?s why I?ll do anything to save my little ones; they give me a reason to live. They help me see things clearly.?

The orange flames cast a comforting glow about the workshop and yet nobeast dared breathe a word as the rat gulped his tea. No ease was to be found there amongst the beasts that tried to digest the confession. Thrayjen turned to the mice, their fur and perfect faces golden from the fire. His pounding heart finally settled.

?Think very hard before you condemn a beast, Miss Aera. Remember your uncle?s wisdom. He was...even smarter than any of us realized.?

Thrayjen bid the maids a good night, excusing himself from the bowyery and departing into the storm. He closed the door behind him, making sure the wind didn?t slam it. Heart pounding and bile rising, he clasped his paws behind his back as he walked across the archery range, fighting every fibre of muscle that begged to flee.

The door creaked open again and Rinam trailed after him. He didn?t want to wait for her or face her but the rat?s paws slowed until Thrayjen stopped.

?I hate Aldridge,? Thrayjen started as Rinam caught up. ?For leaving us here alone.?

?The darkness of the Crater-?

?Hell?s Gates, I?m struggling too. Alone, now.?

The mouse looked up at him, blinking rain droplets from her lashes. They stared at each other, their fur and clothes limp with water. She tentatively reached for Thrayjen?s paw but the rat withdrew, stepping away from her. Again Rinam reached for his paw, bringing it into hers and demanding the counterpart with a beckoning gesture.

Her paws were warm. He noticed it immediately and couldn?t shake the thought. Her claws guided his into forms and patterns, and every symbol and gesture was revealed. He watched intently, eyes following graceful digits as they composed silent poems.

?Peace, for your mind. Mercy, for your heart. This is ?courage?....and ?strength?, for the tournament tomorrow. ?Love?.?

Rinam stopped, tilting her head up.

?For your children. And ?forgiveness?.?

Her paws tightened around his.

?It?s for Aldridge.?

?Aldridge?? Thrayjen frowned. Rinam merely smiled and nodded.

?You are so much stronger than you realize. Forgiveness for Aldridge in his time of weakness, for he has never been as strong as you in fighting his evils.?

Somehow, she illuminated the dark courtyard. Thrayjen smiled and held the sign a moment longer.

Thoroughly soaked, they made their way through the Drag and towards the slave?s sleeping areas. Before Hargorn ushered them apart, Rinam perched upon her toes, leaning in and brushing her whiskers against Thrayjen?s scarred cheek.

?I will teach you more when you return from battle. Until then.?

She once again molded their paws into the symbol for strength.

~*~*~

The sunlight was blinding with only wisps of silver clouds to remind anybeast of the previous night?s storm. All roads in Northvale led to the Crater, and the colourful banners that announced the dozens of fighters promised to entertain the throngs of beasts flocking to the greatest show ever.

Vendors sold cartloads of food and trinket. Brewers offered ales and wines. A toy maker?s stall traded in pewter pins and tin figures of the adored gladiators, some boasting moving arms and tails. Scarves and tunics bearing the embroidered sigils of fighters were peddled for outrageous prices. Thousands of paws walked the ground above the Drag, oblivious to the plight of those they so admired.

Beneath the groomed sands and the stadium seats, below the ground where Thunder?s soaring form could not spy, exhausted slaves hustled through the hallways and dashed from room to room. Trainers growled out advice and insight to their charges, fighters donned their armour and smiths added the final edges to ghastly weapons.

Thrayjen sat quietly on a bench, waiting by the gates that would rise up and let him greet his fate. He watched the other fighters, some nervous in their collars while others with naked necks stretched and scrutinized their blades. Blue sat statuesque beside him.

?Now, it?s a free for all, but Nire said each and every one of them jumped at the opportunity for a go at the Blackwhiskers. Remember, Thrasher likes to use his tail. You do too, but he has longer reach, aye. Rosemond likes to keep her distance, so get in close and watch out for her spear. And Kevin...well...You know what he?ll do if he catches you.?

Thrayjen swallowed and nodded.

?If Nire gives you the claws down...kill them first, aye? Don?t make them suffer. When they?re dead, they?re dead, and you can do whatever you want for show, but...don?t forget yourself.?

Thrayjen looked down at his paws, locked and curled to form a symbol for strength.

?Good luck, aye,? Blue said as Nire?s speech above them ended. Thrayjen caught the tightness in her voice and hugged her as they stood. She patted the kraken on his armor for luck.

The lynx had given the tournament a superfluous opening ceremony of speeches, coloured fire, and aerial displays of impressive finesse. The slave that Thunder had feasted upon was jeered by the audience, their paws and throats warming to the day?s spectacle.

Above them, the crowd cheered as Thrayjen?s opponents were announced.

?Have Plockette warm some mead for me, Blue.?

The gate opened.

?AND hailing from the barbaric kingdom of the Rapscallions,? Nire?s voice boomed above the growing cheers, ?The one they?re all here to wreak their vengeance upon, a chilling nightmare made flesh and blood, the sovereign of suffering...Prince Thrayjen the BLACKWHISKERS!?

Across from the rat, the mighty scaled lizard called The Thrasher stood, a giant axe clutched in his claws. Further down posed a wildcat in a steel breastplate spinning a spear above her head while brandishing a shield.

Then there was Kevin. A small, sandy coloured shrew with a chainmail shirt that didn?t quite cover his round belly stood a distance away from the larger opponents. Rather than showing off with his dagger, the scarred shrew instead smiled nervously and gave Thrayjen a slight wave with his little paw.

Thrayjen shuddered inwardly, glancing at the shrew?s blood red sigil of grinning teeth.

The crowd?s roar was deafening. Thrayjen?s ears flattened against his head as he strutted into the centre of the sandy field. His skull white kraken hung from flag poles and the sticks brandished by ecstatic fans. The rat blew kisses and waved, spinning in place as though dancing, skipping over his net and avoiding the hissing hooks braided into the cords.

And then he hurled his trident across the arena and into the face of Kevin.

The shrew flew back several feet, half his head gone and rended by the prongs of death.

Collectively, the gladiators heaved a sigh of intense relief.

Thrasher and Rosemond charged forward. Thrayjen, too, was on the move, loping across the field towards his discarded weapon as he kept on the outside of the other two gladiators, all four paws digging into the sand and sending it flying as he ran.

Rosemond?s spear jabbed out, not near enough to strike the rat but enough to cow him from his target. The wildcat had proved the faster sprinter, standing between Thrayjen and his trident. She lunged forward, barely missing Thrayjen as he spun to the side and cracked his net like a whip. The cat hoisted her shield but when the rat pulled down, her shield wrenched with the hooks that snagged it. Rosemond hissed, struggling to tear away, then knocked herself in the face as Thrayjen let the tension go.

Thrasher?s tail caught the rat in the face. The burning pain lanced through Thrayjen?s skull, swelling his eye shut, and he let the net go entirely. Stumbling back, Thrayjen turned his head to see the lizard spin his axe. The rat leapt again, landing hard on his back and scrambling away through the wet sand.

Thrayjen barely managed to get to his feet. Thrasher?s lashing tail and Rosemond?s thrusting spear dogged him from each side, backing the rat up until he sensed the spiked wall behind him. The tail came again, and this time Thrayjen ducked as the whip-like appendage screamed over him. The rat shot forward, hurtling into Thrasher?s stomach and sending them both rolling into the ground. Thrayjen kicked once, twice, then scarpered sideways as Rosemond?s spear stabbed towards him.

Then Thrasher.

The crowd gasped as the lizard took the spear in the shoulder as he sat up. He howled as Rosemond?s paws twisted. Without missing a beat, the wildcat pushed her weight forward against Thrasher?s resisting claws as the lizard tried to push the spear away and out.

By Kevin?s body, Thrayjen tore his trident from the sand and stole up the shrew?s serrated knife. He turned once again and tore through the sand, head cocked to favour his open eye. Thrasher and Rosemond danced, the lizard swinging the cat about as they both gripped opposite ends of the spear. Finally, Rosemond let go as Thrasher gave up and heaved his axe at her. The double-headed blade slammed into Rosemond?s shield, cleaving a gaping hole into the metal that spurted blood from her severed arm.

Shrieking, the wildcat retreated back. Doubled over, she quickly fell, and Thrasher advanced on her from the front as Thrayjen crept into play from the side. Rosemond?s remaining paw suddenly found something in the sand. Without thought or grace, she flung Thrayjen?s net and tangled Thrasher. He flailed, trying to free his axe and his face from the braided cord that imprisoned him, only to further dig the curved hooks into his scales and flesh.

Rosemond laughed wildly, sitting up and reaching for Thrasher?s fallen axe. Thrayjen tipped her head back and sliced her throat open. He held her as she dropped in front of him, gurgling quietly as she pawed at her neck before stilling. Gently, he put her down.

To the crowd?s excited cheers and disappointed shouts, Thrayjen advanced upon Thrasher. The lizard was struggling fruitlessly, every limb save for his threatening tail caught in hook and rope. Dozens of wounds scored into his hide, but Thrasher refused to give up. He saw the rat approach and rolled away, ignoring the hooks that dug deeper into him. A foot came free; his hind claws and teeth immediately began working at the cords.

The volume in the stands grew, and grew, until screams of warning lit a fire of desperate energy and Thrasher ripped the remains of the net from him triumphantly. He looked up in time to see Thrayjen thrust forward with his trident, and skillfully spun out of the way, swatting at the deadly harpoon. Then, as Thrayjen?s arm was forced wide and the rat turned with the force of the hit, Thrasher leapt forward and knocked the rat down.

The weight on top of Thrayjen was crushing. Claws rend his face, teeth snapped at him as he tried to push back, and the lizard?s scales proved impervious to Thrayjen?s nails. He could smell his own blood, taste it in his throat. He grew weak, limp.

The lizard paused, looking at Nire.

The lynx, face disappointed, raised his paw.

Thrayjen shot up, jaws closing around Thrasher?s neck before the lizard could realize what had happened. Scaled muscle bunched and flexed as Thrasher pulled back, dragging the latched rat with him until he dislodged and rolled in the ground, spitting flesh and bile.

Beasts screamed, in delight, in terror. Nire threw his paws up in celebration, teeth bared in a wide smile. When Thrasher lay cold in the sand, fortunes were won and lost, with no sympathies or regard to the beasts who had died.

The Thrasher. Rosemond, the Longclaw. Kevin.

Gasping and panting, Thrayjen spun as he looked around with a single eye. Faces blurred and everything was coloured red, but through the windows in the Drag, Thrayjen could see a bright mouse with curly fur looking on.

The rat turned towards Nire?s high-pitched laughter. Thrayjen bowed, as he usually did, and forced his paws into the form of mercy as he walked back to the gate with twitching whiskers.