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  Rynn was subjected to the pain twice more while he spoke with the Belab. By the end of the third session, he was sprawled on the ground thrashing uncontrollably. That last session had lasted until the pain seemed normal, until Rynn could no longer remember what it felt like to not be in pain. When the agony finally ended, he continued to convulse and heave as his body revolted against the treatment.

  "As you no doubt recall,” the Belab continued before Rynn could even open his eyes, “I was wondering where your friend Dasen might seek refuge, what family he has, which people he trusts. You had said that you did not know, but I suspect that you may want to change that answer."

  Shaking uncontrollably, Rynn fought to speak through the spasms that shook him. His words came out in a soft slur. "I . . . I don’t know. I’m not from here . . . and Dasen hasn’t been here in . . . in twelve years. We only came for . . . for his joining ceremony.” With that, he broke into tears. “Please . . . please, don't hurt me anymore. I. . . . I’ve told you everything . . . everything I know." He was telling the truth. He would do anything to keep the pain from returning.

  The Belab sat silently for a long time. Overcome by fear, Rynn watched him, praying between pants that he would be satisfied. The old man’s eyes were closed, and he was very still as if in deep meditation. “So we will have to try another track,” he finally mumbled to himself.

  A moment later, the Belab was reaching down to help Rynn to his feet. He pulled him up then traced a shape on his forehead with his finger. When he spoke his voice was kind, full of affection. "I am sorry, Rynn. Truly. Please, do not think that I did this because I wanted to.” He sighed. His face was full of sadness so that Rynn felt as if he should be comforting his torturer. At the same time, he felt his pain and fear ebbing away. “It has made me ill to hurt you. You have been given Hilaal’s gift. You are a son to him and thus to me. We should be celebrating as a family reunited instead of fighting like strangers.”

  The Belab put his arm around Rynn. Rynn tried to pull away, but his anger was almost gone and the old man’s eyes were so deep that Rynn felt like he was falling into them. All his resistance faded. The pain he had felt a moment before seemed a lifetime gone. Calm and assurance filled the void, a sense of belonging, oneness, and love.

  “It is the same as a father who beats his son,” the Belab was saying. “He does it only to make him better, to teach him. So it is with you. I had to do this to protect you, to protect all of us from this young man who pretended to be your friend. But I see now the terrible mistake I have made.” The Belab rubbed his brow as if troubled and tired. “You do not even know who you are. You could not possibly know the stakes we face, could not see how Dasen has manipulated you. You have only just met your new family, and this is how we treat you? It is a disgrace, and I apologize.”

  The Belab sighed. Rynn looked into his eyes and again saw compassion, understanding, everything his own father had never given him. How can I be angry with this man? Why was he even apologizing? Rynn could not seem to remember how he had ever been wronged by the Belab. He smiled. “You . . . you only do what you must, great one.” Rynn heard himself saying. He wasn’t sure where those words had come from, but he suddenly believed them with all his soul.

  The Belab returned his smile with a grin that split his wild beard and added light to his dark eyes. “Thank you, my son. I am glad that you understand. But I am sorry to say that Dasen is still a great danger to us, to your new family. I know that he has hurt you, has manipulated you, kept you under his thumb. I know how he has lorded over you, used his wealth, his intellect, his charisma to keep you in thrall. But it was all a lie, my child. Do you see now what he has done to you?” The Belab paused as if expecting an answer, but Rynn was confused. He didn’t remember Dasen that way. Yet, as the Belab spoke, it all seemed true.

  “He has always been better,” the Belab continued, “one ahead of you in your classes, with your friends. And he taunted you about that, didn't he? Taunted you and threw it in your face that you would never be joined. That he would have a wife and you would have nothing. He had everything to give but could not spare a single ounce from his overflowing cup. Did he offer you a position in his company? Did he arrange an apprenticeship with his father? Did he turn the girls he scorned to you?”

  Rynn found himself shaking his head. “No,” the Belab answered his own questions. “You were nothing more than his clown. Not even worthy of his scraps, less than a dog at his table. And now that he has a wife, do you think he will even have time for his clown?”

  The Belab shook his head in dismay. Rynn could feel his anger building. How had he not seen it before? How had he allowed himself to be used that way?

  “I am sorry, my son,” the Belab consoled. He held Rynn in his arms, embraced him as his own father never had. “I am sorry to be the one to tell you these truths, but you must free yourself of those chains if you are to reach your potential, if you are to become one of us. We want you as part of our family, your true family. You are no one’s clown any longer, Rynn. You are a child of Hilaal, a great and powerful man whose potential has just now been discovered.”

  Rynn looked up and saw the old man smiling. He smiled as well. The Belab spoke to him affectionately. “I am sorry, for all the pain you have suffered at the hands of your supposed friend. It hurts me more than you know. I would love nothing more than to punish him, but revenge is not our way. . . .”

  Rynn felt his hatred seething at the mention of Dasen. Images of Dasen laughing behind his back, enjoying all the women who had scorned him, ridiculing him to his father, the two of them joking at the idea of Rynn working with them crowded his mind. The Belab patted his shoulder with a look of understanding. “No, my child. Revenge is for those like Dasen who revel in the pain it causes. We must strive to give him understanding, just as you have come to understand. We will redeem him and bring him to the service of Hilaal.”

  Rynn was rueful. He wanted revenge, wanted to see Dasen suffer, but he was also confident that the Belab knew best – the Belab always knew. He nodded his agreement.

  Seeing the concession, the Belab turned to the other men and said, "He is ready."

  With those words, a hole opened in front of Rynn. It was a spinning disc of black that expanded until it was the height of a man. Rynn watched the thing, afraid of whatever it was, but he was steeled by the presence of the Belab, his father, his savior, so he did not draw back from the dreadful shape.

  The Belab gestured to the disk and patted Rynn on the back. "Go now, my child. This gate will lead you to a place where you will learn to use your gifts, where you can learn to reach our full potential. Learn quickly, for you will need all the knowledge they can give you to find your former friend and bring him to us."

  Rynn looked back one more time at the old man, and they embraced. From somewhere, the memory returned of Dasen his friend, but he pushed it aside and replaced it with an image of the Belab. He knew his friend now, and he knew his enemy. He would do as the Belab suggested. He would bring Dasen to him, but he would ensure that he suffered first, suffered for all the things he had done and all the things he hadn’t.

  The Belab released him and turned him to face the black disk. The old man smiled broadly and motioned him forward. Rynn held the image of the Belab in his mind as he stepped through the black corridor toward his future.

 
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