Free Yin and Yang: A Fool's Beginning by Odette C. Bell Page A

of
nerves travels through my stomach. Hot and fast, they feel like
bubbling water. I even move to touch a hand to my stomach, but I
stop myself.
    I've been to these barracks countless times; for the
past few years, I've lived here. So why do I now feel as if they've
changed? As if I've turned some corner, and my life will no longer
be as it once was?
    As if somewhere, somehow, a fire is about to ignite
within me.
    A fire I’ve held back for years.
    Though my conscious mind can't seem to answer that,
my body can, and without knowing it, I turn to face Yin once
more.
    She’ s a powerful summoner, the
apprentice of one of the most legendary warriors of our times, and
she’s currently sitting in my cart glaring at me.
    Perhaps my life has just taken a turn, and nothing
will be the same anymore.
    Or maybe I'm just unsettled. Yes, that's it, I
conclude, as the cart draws to a halt and I hear the soldiers
scramble off the top.
    All I need to do is relax, meditate, and regain
control over my emotions.
    Then everything will go back to normal.
    . . . .
    Even as I tell myself that, a part of me knows it's
fancy.
    Nothing will be the same again.
     

Chapter 8
     
    Yin
    When the cart stops, my nerves start. In fact, who am
I kidding? My nerves have been building ever since we entered this
monstrous, golden city.
    In all my years, I've never seen anything like it.
For in all my years, I've barely travelled from my mountain
village. My life to date has been about training, not travelling. I
don't have time to be awed by great golden arches and walls as tall
as mountains and just as imposing.
    I watch Yang stand, and though he's too tall, and has
to stoop, that doesn't stop him from compulsively neatening his
armor once more. Then, with a slight breath, he unlocks the door
and steps out.
    I catch a glimpse of an empty square beyond. It's
enormous, absolutely enormous.
    “Castor,” I begin. I
don't know what I want to say, but I can't stop myself from
whispering his name.
    “Just trust me,” he
says quietly, his voice barely carrying beyond his lips.
    I turn to look at him.
    With a complicated expression, he doesn't face me,
and instead stares at the opposite wall.
    “What's going on? Why
aren't we escaping?” I hiss back, trying to ensure my voice does
not carry outside the cart and to Yang's waiting ears.
    “Just trust me,”
Castor says once more.
    “Castor,” I begin,
one million questions bursting through my mind. Trust him? How can
I trust him when I don't know what's going on? The one lesson he
drummed into my mind more than any other is that I must never allow
myself to be captured. But now, well, I've clearly been captured,
and he is doing nothing about it.
    I don't understand, and that fact unsettles me more
than Castor's complicated expression.
    Before I can question him further, I see two soldiers
pop their heads through the open door.
    They are dressed in armor that is somehow even
fancier than Yang's. Brilliant blue and gold, they look as if
they've trapped the very sea and sky in their breastplates and
helmets.
    “Please exit this
cart,” one says in a professional but curt tone.
    Without a word, Castor stands and follows their
heed.
    I don't move though. I sit there, staring in
open-mouthed shock as my guardian follows the orders of these
soldiers.
    What is he doing?
    When he steps down
from the cart, he turns and nods at me .
“Come, Yin,” he says.
    I begin to shake my
head, but he shakes his head harder .
“Please,” he adds.
    Feeling more confused than I've ever felt, I stand
and make my way out of the cart. As soon as I jump down, I gasp. I
can see the enormous square in full. It's even bigger than I
imagined, and as I stand there and spin on the spot, taking in the
glorious buildings beyond, I realize just how far out of my depth I
am.
    The mountains I understand. The trees, the crags, the
snow, the birds. They sing to me. These buildings, however, are
nothing but imposing. They represent a world I