Wiko never enjoyed the room that was picked out for him. The monotonous concrete walls cast a determined darkness, where dust and random debris collected without being noticed. It helped that the room only housed him, his bed, and a small wardrobe for his kaftans. A deep clean would steal only mere minutes of his day.
Nevertheless, that never bothered him. It was the window that bothered him.
No matter how much Wiko wiped the window, it only teased the sunlight whenever the morning arrived. Just a handful of dim light managed to filter through the nearby tree foliage.
He’d insisted on renovating the Kyron Temple, specifically moving the alchemy lab into a larger space—partly in hopes that he’d be able to move into the old alchemy space, where the window invited unfiltered light. For the senior Keepers, the temple was fine as it was. Sure, some vines grew on the side of the concrete, a few of which reached past the second floor, where Wiko’s room was, and one reached the top fifth floor. There was always exterior cleaning to be done, but it was always fine to them.
“Late start?” Gerlind, one of the senior Keepers, poked his head into the room.
Wiko rubbed his eyes, still mostly undressed. “I’m telling you, I need to move rooms.”
The Keeper crossed his arms. “You can’t blame the sun for your problems, Kunza.”
“It’s the lack thereof!”
Gerlind shook his head. “So the tree is your problem?”
“Yes. The tree is my problem.” Wiko’s sarcastic undertone begged to fully show itself.
Gerlind kept his deadpan stare. “Get ready, your instruction starts soon.” The side of his face revealed a playful smile before he disappeared past the room’s door frame.
“Ugh,” Wiko grunted away his frustration, then put on his kaftan.
He glanced out the window. Hopefully, this is the last time I see you. But something shifted outside the window before he looked away.
Under one of the patches of light, something glimmered at him. No, two things glimmered at him.
It was a pair of eyes from a tiny furry creature clinging to the side of a branch; it was a bit smaller than the size of his hand. Its fur was primarily dark brown with patches of dark green spread in random areas. It had a long tail that wrapped around the branch to stabilize itself. When the two of them locked eyes, it bared teeth.
Some blood trickled onto the tiny white fur of its snout. Wiko moved closer to the window to get a better look—but the creature lost its strength and fell from the branch.
Wiko sprinted out of the room and jumped down the entire stairwell to get to the tree outside his window. There, below it, the dying creature wheezed struggling breaths. It had a deep cut on its back, which darkened its fur.
Without thinking, Wiko scooped his palms underneath it. It nipped at his thumb, but it was too weak to break the skin.
“I’m sorry,” Wiko whispered. “Maybe I can try some healing akibon.” He quickly swiveled his head to see if any Keepers were watching. Then, with a deep inhale, he covered the creature within his hands, and with an exhale, his palms emitted a faint green light. Immediately after, the creature in his hand started to vibrate, like a soft growl.
When he opened his hand, the creature still lay across his palm, its eyes staring back at its savior. It settled back into his hand and wrapped its tail a couple of times around his arm until the tip reached his elbow. Once the tail stopped moving, it solidified in its shape.
“No, I can’t take you… uh, creature thing.” Wiko gently pinched the tip of its tail to unwrap it.
It didn’t seem to care and stayed in place, turning onto its back and closing its eyes.
“The Keepers are going to have me clean the entire temple if you stay with me.”
The creature lifted an eyelid, noticing Wiko’s distress, and turned over to start licking his index finger—after the second lick, it checked Wiko’s expression to see if it helped.
It did not.
“Kunza!” It was Gerlind. “We need to start!”
Wiko began his focused breathing; becoming hyper-reactive wouldn’t solve the problem. “I can just tell him.” He exhaled. “Yeah, let’s try that.”
He secured the creature by closing his hands slightly, then hunched over his arm when he reentered the temple. Gerlind might understand… the other Keepers might not.
Wiko tucked his arm under his shirt and hurried in. “Gerlind…” he whispered.
“What!?” he responded, his arms crossed and his toes tapping.
“I have something—”
Gerlind’s stare focused on Wiko’s covered arm. “If you say you have a stomach ache, I’ll lock you in your room or something.”
“No—uh.”
“Just tell me!”
Before Wiko could respond, the creature traveled up his arm and poked its head out from the kaftan. “Y-yeah.”
“You know where that belongs.”
“I tried. It wouldn’t let go.”
Gerlind walked up to Wiko. The creature’s head shrunk back into the kaftan and it shuffled back to his forearm, solidifying its tail around it.
“It’s a lorynx,” Wiko muttered.
“I know what it is!” Gerlind hissed and took a deep breath. “How?”
“It almost died outside the window. I—”
“You healed it!?”
“I didn’t know what else to do!”
“Nothing! That’s what I teach you!”
“To stand by when I can help!?”
“Yes!” The Keeper took another breath. “We keep—”
“—not have. I know.”
“That’s right, we’re supposed to be impartial. This lorynx is a part of an endless, brutal cycle. Constantly struggling to stay alive when so many things are trying to kill it! Do—” Gerlind’s fierce expression melted with a prolonged breath. “Do you understand what I’m saying, Kunza?” he said with a weary voice.
Wiko attempted to mirror his teacher’s control but stumbled with his breath. “B-but—we’re just supposed to watch!? That’s what you’re telling me?”
“When others look away, Kunza. Without us, people forget. Their suffering means more than just suffering.”
“I don’t understand—”
“That’s why I’m here to teach you.” Gerlind stepped in and extended his arm; both the lorynx and Wiko flinched. “But perhaps not today.” His fingers brushed the lorynx’s ear.
Wiko hid a smile. Yet, Gerlind caught a glimpse of it.
“Instead, your lesson will be on cleanliness.” Gerlind leeched away Wiko’s grin. “I believe dirt has snuck into the alchemy lab; you must experiment with methods for removing it.”
“Understood.” Wiko closed his eyes and took a calm breath. A hand patted his head.
“One of these days I’ll practice the things I lecture, young lorynx.”
Across the hall, a knock tapped on the door. Then another timid knock.
Gerlind strolled to the door. When he opened it, a breeze whisked in and pushed the door farther.
Duara covered her head from the gentle morning rain. “Can I come in?”
“Are you here to learn lessons of observation?”
“Uhm… no?”
“Understood.” Gerlind began to close the door.
“I invited her,” Wiko said. “She’s adept with akibon.”
Gerlind kept the door in its place, still blocking her entry. “We’re all adept here.”
“Hers is different… Renet-sourced.”
Duara shrank when she heard Renet.
“Fine.” He let his hand off the door and walked to Wiko, letting Duara in.
She glanced around, taking note of the wide hallway they were in, the arched ceiling, and the spotless varnished floors.
“I need help finishing up the walls in the alchemy lab. I wanted to observe your ability, Duara. Ashke would benefit as well—where is she?”
Duara surveyed the temple. “She’s not here? She ran off a while ago; I thought she was making her way here.”
“Where’d you see her go?”
“Uhm…” Duara’s eyes shut and she turned around. “She went right on the Northern Road.”
“That doesn’t lead here…”
“Maybe she went on an errand and lost track of time?”
“I can see that—”
Gerlind cut into the conversation. “There’s nothing on that road. A Keeper named Hafer used to meditate there; he stopped after a pair of siblings ruined his solace a few years ago.”
Wiko’s eyes flashed. “I think I know where she is,” he said and turned to Gerlind.
His teacher crossed his arms and sighed. “Write your observations. This will be your test, lorynx.”
“Yes, Keeper.” He put his hand on Duara’s shoulder. “Let’s go find your friend.”