Curse of the New Age no. 2c3a

“How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t believe in any curse,” I explained.

“Not even a little?” he asked.

“Not at all,” I admitted. “I think what they’ve done to you is unnecessary and cruel, but those decisions aren’t up to me.”

“So, you won’t?”

“I don’t even know your name. I was simply told that I was to address you as Young Master.”

“Forban,” he said. “My name is Forban.”

“Young Master, Forban,” I said with a smile, following the letter of the law, but not the spirit. “It’s a nice name.”

“I wasn’t given one, so I picked it out myself,” he explained.

I suspect I looked a bit shocked.

“Any name of mine becomes a demon’s name. I know it’s selfish, but I wanted a name.”

“When I joined the Kyn, I was renamed,” I said, trying to steer the conversation to more pleasant things.

“What was your original name?” he asked.

“You aren’t supposed to ask that,” I corrected, with a laugh. Every once in a while, the way they treated me was so absurd it struck me funny. “Once we are renamed, nobody calls us by our former name.”

“Did you get to decide?”

I shook my head. “Once we join, we remain nameless for several weeks and live with the Kyn. Then, we emerge back to our family and friends. Our new name is revealed in a ceremony and decided on by our Kyn mentors. There is usually a big party with lots of food and dancing.”

“Food and dancing?”

“A huge feast! Loud music. A party.”

“Sounds fun.”

“It’s a joyous event. I’ve been to many naming ceremonies.”

We continued to eat our food at the table and be in each other’s company. It was nice.

“Is it true?” he asked reluctantly after a while. “Is it true that you cut your bodies?”

I was startled by his question. I wasn’t expecting it.

“Who told you that?”

“Is it true? Is…is that not a question I should ask?”

“Some of us do,” I answered. “It’s very private. Please don’t mention it again.”

“Can you have children?”

I took a deep breath. Maybe it was best that I deal with his curiosity, however uncomfortable it was.

“Some of us can. Some of us can’t.”

“Can you?”

I became very quiet.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry.”

We continued to eat.

“When did you become Kyn? How old were you?” he asked.

“I’ve always been Kyn, but I joined the order when I was slightly younger than you. I was twelve years old.”

“Really?”

“Some join much younger,” I explained. “A few join when they are older as well, but twelve is a typical age.”

“But you always were? That doesn’t make sense.”

“Being Kyn is something you discover, not something you decide.”

He scoffed and kept eating his meal.

“Please, Young Master Forban, don’t be disrespectful.”

“Sorry.”

There was another long pause.

“So, your parents didn’t decide? You did? At twelve years old?” he asked suddenly and incredulously, as if it had just crossed his mind.

“It was my decision to join the order. My mother was sad, at first, but they both accepted it. It was an adjustment, but they were happy for me.”

“Did they…” he started to ask but paused for a moment. “Were they really killed during the annexation?”

I considered lying to him, but I’d gone this far.

“No. They survived the annexation. They both passed away from fever five years ago.”

“But the letter? I remember. I read well. They said they would not find justice. I don’t understand. If they died from fever, who are you angry at? Your gods?”