Duality by Rowan Erlking (classic books for 13 year olds txt) 📕

Both Bernum and Malkia nodded, gazing up at him.

“I go school too!” Dennik said, tugging on his father’s pant leg.

Rubbing his head with a mournful smile, the Pharmacist replied, “School is for five-year-olds and older, not for two-year-olds.”

“I go school!” Dennik stomped his club foot, wincing somewhat.

Malkia grabbed him in a hug, squeezing him tight around his shoulders. “We’ll bring school back to you!”

Bernum nodded, glancing once at the slightly horrified look on their schoolmaster’s face. Beyan, however, immediately tried to hide it as he could clearly see now that if he reacted more violently in disgust at the deformed boy he would offend the two he wanted the most in his school. Yet even then the idea of including the misshapen ‘demon-child’ into his establishment in three years time sickened him.

Beyan took a step back from the counter, sticking on a pleased expression, and he averted his eyes away from Dennik to maintain his facade of geniality. “All right then. Tomorrow morning I’ll return. Bring with you all you need and we’ll walk.”

The Pharmacist met his gaze, nodding firmly. He was used to people maintaining face, finding it more suitable than the dirty looks and fear.

Berum and Malkia gazed up at their father, wondering what school would be like. And more, they wondered if in three years’ time if Dennik would be allowed to go also. Peering up at the schoolmaster’s twitchy hands it didn’t seem likely. And catching their father’s warning looks, they knew it couldn’t be so. It would be their job to teach Dennik what they learned at school, and that was all there was to it.

Squaring their tiny shoulders, the twins resolved upon it to change the world for Dennik.

Just as promised, Beyan was standing outside their home, waiting for the twins just as the sun was rising so they could walk at a leisurely pace for an adult, a quick one for a child. At the door, their father whispered assurances to them as he handed them their packed lunch, “I trust Schoolmaster Beyan to take care of you. But if ever he fails and either of you get lost or hurt, I will climb through any forest, cross any desert, fight any wild animal to get to you. Understand?”

Both Bernum and Malkia nodded.

He gently ushered them out the door to where the schoolmaster stood grinning at them with an extended hand for each of them. And as both five-year-olds took the schoolmaster’s hands the Pharmacist lingered in the doorway, watching them leave his close protection for the first time ever. He braced his shoulders and put on a strong face for them, holding Dennik in his arms as the child waved to his older brother and sister.

Their walk up to the schoolhouse was something else. It had been a while since they had last left their home, but luckily for them both, the twins were eagerly soaking in the new sights with excitement rather than fear. Beyan attributed it to their perfection as twins, unaware that their father had been prepping them since the night before.

With their wide eyes they took in the shop fronts, the tradesmen opening their carts to show their wares; the milkmaids carrying their large jugs on each arm with the bow shaped yoke over their shoulders to steady each one; the butcher shop where the man was already cutting the meat from the pig, its head on display with other fine chops and cutlets; the fishmonger with his barrels and fly duster, sweeping them away as he called “fresh fish” to the early shoppers; the stilt-walkers putting out the  last of the oil lamps from the night; the news posters, spreading paste on the community bulletin boards after scraping off the last posting with headlines about a trade fair in Jonori, the coastal city; the number of slaves being led to the market their chains dragging from their ankles with their shoulders stooped and their heads down. It was all overwhelming to the senses.

The odors, the sounds, the clamor of calls and people begging for attention and money—all of it drew the children’s little eyes everywhere. And further, the differences in the faces they saw around them. There were the dignified merchants in their rich flowing robes and round hats, the white of their eyes and teeth shining against their clean dark skin. There were the shopkeepers dressed in plainer clothes with varying degrees of wear depending on their jobs, the butcher looking the most stained with his bloody apron and gloves, though the chimney sweep was the dirtiest. Then there were the women. Many of them dressed according to their station, the richer the more extravagant. Some of them wore their hair up in rich turbans of vellum and lame, while others wrapped them in cloth to keep the dust off. The more common the woman was, the more her hair was like a man’s, short and easy to care for. Malkia’s clean long tight curls were clearly a sign she was from a good family, and already she drew eyes.

“Stay close to me, children,” Beyan said, clutching their hands a little tighter.

They did, watching all the eyes that stared at them. Several of the people had started to whisper that the Pharmacist’s twins were at last out of the home. They also peered at the schoolmaster who marched with strength in his eyes to let all who saw them know he would harm anyone who laid a finger on either child.

But the children didn’t seem to notice. Bernum was staring at the line of slaves being loaded into the back of a horse cart. He pointed at them. “Why are they chained? What did they do?”

Blinking at them, Beyan replied, “Oh. The slaves? It isn’t what they did. It is what their ancestors did. You see how they are different from us? Their skin is the wrong color, their faces broader, flatter. And their hair. See how it is wavy rather than curly? Their ancestors were demons. In fact, they are still part demon.”

Both Bernum and Malkia made faces. Not at the slaves, but at the schoolmaster. After all, it was the same thing people said about Dennik.

But the schoolmaster did not seem to notice the reason for their disgust and continued to explain, “They are Sky Children. Their ancestors used to have blue eyes. Only demons have blue eyes.”

“They’re slaves just because they are different?” Malkia at last asked, frowning at him.

Beyan blinked at her, comprehending her objection now. “No. Their ancestors also had a deadly touch. They took over most of the northern continent over two thousand years ago. And around a thousand years ago the people revolted and took the land back. Now we are punishing them.”

Frowning also, Bernum looked skeptical. “It doesn’t seem right.”

Chuckling as he led them away from the slaves, Beyan the schoolmaster replied, “My dear boy, you have a lot to learn about the world. It is a great deal bigger than just Yapan. Even bigger than Maldos.”

They proceeded on to the school house, but not before bumping into a Hann tradesman where Beyan could teach that here was a foreigner that wasn’t a demon, yet was different from them also. The Hann were fairer skinned, more tan than dark. Their eyes were almond shaped also, their hair brown, as was their eyes. However, Beyan did express that Hann were famous liars.

The school itself wasn’t anything to fuss about. There were five classes set up in the plastered stone building, each with an educated male teacher and an occasional woman teacher helper. The teacher in the first year class was a young man by the name of Wernet who eagerly greeted all the open-eyed five-year olds and six-year olds that entered his room for the first time. Some of the children were sobbing, reaching for their mothers to take them back home, but Bernum and Malkia walked in confidently looking around at the brightly painted letters of the Maldos alphabet that ran along the top rim of the room all the way around. Wernet nodded to Schoolmaster Beyan when the man handed Malkia and Bernum into his care, smiling especially warm for them.

“Welcome. I’m so glad you could join my class,” he said to the both of them, clasping his hands in a somewhat-dramatic manner that the twins thought was a little bit much for a man. So used to their father’s quiet ways, every other way was just strange.

They took their seats. And so began the first of many years of in-class learning.

Already well-mannered children, Bernum and Malkia were fine students. After getting used to him, they liked their teacher very much and loved to hear him talk. They were quick learners, but that was because their father had already started to teach them to read. Since The Pharmacist hadn’t thought their education was possible before, he had already taken it upon himself to start them in their letters. Also, they had no trouble sitting still, unlike some of the other children. So pleased, their teacher had attributed it to their perfection as twins, not at all on their relation to Dennik in whom it had been made necessity to entertain in a sitting position for hours.

But mostly, Bernum and Malkia were also more mature for their age. That was obvious in their exchanges with the other children. Many of the other children kicked fits when they didn’t get what they wanted, but the twins had the same mild manner as their father. If someone wanted the toy they were playing with, or wanted their seat, the brother and sister would pick up together and do something else. No fighting, no scratching, no shouting or hair pulling—that is, unless someone made a remark about Dennik. On the first day, an older child foolishly did so during the lunch break, walking over the school yard to see the twins for himself to share his condolences that their younger brother was born a demon.

“He is not a demon!” Bernum shouted, hopping to his feet with his hands in fists.

Malkia grabbed a handful of dirt to throw at the offender.

The child staggered back, blinking at them then scurried off.

The others in the schoolyard stared. Few had dared approach them. Like Dennik, seen as different, (the peak of perfection rather than a demon) most were uncomfortable with them.

Near the end of their first day their teacher took the children to the school library where he allowed them to take up any book to look at for the final twenty minutes they had left of class. All the children ran over to the low shelves where the picture books stood, snatching the ones with the brightest illustrations. Malkia grabbed a large one that she could share with Bernum, lugging it back to where he stood on the edge of the fray. They sat down on the floor together, leaning against the wall, opening up to the first