Page 2 of Mikoto and the Reaver Village
Mikoto blinked hard. He hadn’t cried once since they’d foundfather. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t. He left that to his mother and his sisters, hishalf-sisters, and his nieces. Not because they were girls, but because Mikotowas himself.
Expressingwasn’t his forte.
He tried to think what to do, but his emotional vocabulary—ifyou could call it that—was limited to vague hums, sympathetic grunts, and theoccasional shoulder clap. His father had been so much better at connecting withpeople. Knowing what to say. Being in charge.
Resorting to a half-hearted pat, Mikoto mumbled, “You okay?”
“Time takes its toll, but it offers a way forward.” Yulinwhisked away a tear. “I daresay I will beokay. With your help, nobleson.”
Mikoto was used to Yulin finding new ways to tacknobleonto his name. It was a moth-ish joke, playing off the kanji for Mikoto’s givenname, which was written with characters that implied nobility, lordship, andeven divinity. Today, the endearment felt more like a taunt. Mikoto hadn’tasked for statusorits obligations.
Yet they were his. So he asked, “What can I do?”
“Work with me.”
Mikoto cast one last, longing look at the slope where, evennow, battlers might be learning new skills. “I know my duty.”
Yulin’s laugh was like rustling leaves, and his light touchwas a plea. “The heads of the clans acknowledge your succession. Wardenclave isin your care.” His words carried weight, as if this morning, this very moment, markedMikoto’s induction. “However, it has been suggested that your years areinsufficient, compared to the full scope of the responsibilities that are yourinheritance.”
“I am not ready.” It was an honest relief to hear someoneelse say it.
Yulin’s gaze softened. “That is why you have been made anapprentice.”
Mikoto longed for an outlet for all the tension that wasbuilding. “Whose?”
“Wardenclave’s.”
TWO
Five Mentors
Across all classifications, reavers received training suitedto their inherent strengths, usually in classrooms or in summer courses likethose offered at Wardenclave. Group training. But an exceptional young reavermight be tapped for apprenticeship, either by a senior within the same specialtyor by an Amaranthine mentor.
Selection was an unparalleled honor that opened many doors.One of those being the gates of Wardenclave. Glint Starmark’s standards forattendees were the highest, so their village mostly welcomed in reavers withprestigious connections.
No one could help their parentage. Pedigree was a matter ofrecord. But the only guarantee that came with good breeding was more breeding.Those with rank could expect excellent offers for maternity, paternity, andmatrimony. And monetary incentives that encouraged large families.
Pedigree was about potential. But having promise assurednothing. That’s where individual effort came into play. Those who worked hardwere more likely to turn heads. And to gain the patronage of a powerful mentor.
“I do not understand,” said Mikoto.
Mentors took one apprentice at a time. And apprentices onlyever had one mentor. One-on-one. Personal attention. Mutual dedication. If thementor was Amaranthine, the bond was so close that the apprentice could weartheir mentor’s crest and colors. It was the stuff of stories and dreams, forfew could aspire to such intimacies.
It was different for Mikoto. Almost backward.
“How can I be apprenticed to a village?”
“You are the future of Wardenclave. You must build on itsfoundations.” Yulin’s fingers fluttered. “I am speaking of the Five.”
Mikoto had grown up with the Five. Not the world-famous Fivewho’d brought about the Emergence. Theirs was theoriginalFive—the fivefounders of Wardenclave. The Amaranthine who had allied themselves withMikoto’s ancestor.
Starmark.
Fullstash.
Duntuffet.
Alpenglow.
