You Must Feel Nothing (Prologue)

   "Again!" A harsh female voice rang through the room, bounced off the wooden walls, and reverberated painfully in the child's pounding head. His muscles ached with exhaustion and his arms trembled as he lifted them to keep his balance. He slowly lifted his left foot and placed it on the raised wooden floor several inches in front of him. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. The words echoed in his head with the pulsing of his heart and he slowly moved his right foot. He had completed this task once...he could do it again. He was the first child to make it across the floor without disrupting the balance and making that dreaded noise. He was expecting some sort of praise. He was the first child in hundreds. Could Lady Morrigan not see that he was the best?
 
   He was so consumed by his arrogant thoughts that he placed his foot just a fraction of an inch too far ahead and...SQUEAK! That miserable noise. The boy's head jerked up and he looked at Lady Morrigan, a vision of pure threatening beauty in her glittering armor. A drop of sweat rolled down the side of his small face as Lady Morrigan stood up and suddenly she was right next to him. The boy grit his teeth as she pulled out the thin wooden rod that most of the kids feared more than death itself. He was the best student here! He could prove it! He had the least amount of scars out of every child here!
   
   "Lift your foot," she said and her voice was like the clashing of two swords. The boy clenched his fists and lifted his right foot onto his toes. Lady Morrigan took up the bastinado and swung it with astonishing speed. The boy could hear it whistle through the air and then pain exploded in the bottom of his foot. He felt blood drip down his foot and he stared straight ahead at Lady Morrigan's empty chair. His eyes remained dry. He would not let Lady Morrigan see him cry. He would not let anyone see him cry. He would never cry. The rod struck again and the pain was etched into his flesh.
 
   "Other foot," she said and her voice was a drilling monotone. The boy felt his lips twitch and he felt the urge to laugh. He remembered seeing the other children come back from this room, their feet a bloodied mess, tears pouring like an endless well down their puffy cheeks. He remembered their whimpers as they tried to sleep, the night air stinging their fresh cuts. He set his right foot back on the smooth wooden floor and agony rocked through his leg. He lifted his left foot and put his full weight on his injured right one. The pain was like fire as the wood rubbed against the lashes and the urge to laugh became almost unbearable. He thought about how pathetic the others were to cry about something so material. He bit down on his bottom lip and fought the desire to clutch at his bare sides.
 
   The rod whistled through the air and...CRACK! His skin split and the pain was riveting. CRACK! He could feel hot blood pour down and pool around his toes.
 
   "Again, Leviathan!" Lady Morrigan said. "From the beginning!" He wondered briefly why it sounded like everything she said ended in an exclamation point. He stepped off the raised wooden platform and walked around it back to the beginning. As he walked, a trail of bloody footprints stained the floor behind him and pain seared through his body, shooting up his legs. He kept his face blank and as he took his place at the starting line, the urge to laugh faded and cold determination set in. The pain in his feet was nearly unendurable. He looked up and saw Lady Morrigan once again in her seat twenty feet away with the wooden rod balanced on her knees.
 
   "Come to me, boy," she said and her voice was tender but stern. He saw right through it. He stepped forward carefully, his bloody feet sticking to the wooden boards underfoot. He gnashed his teeth together and blew a forceful breath through his nose. "Push through the pain," she said as she stared at his trembling form. He took another step forward and his feet stung like salt had been poured into the wounds. "You must make yourself steel." Her words swam in his head and his eyes locked on her face. He could see through her encouraging words to the seething battle-lust beneath her skin. It mirrored his own. Even as a child, not yet ten years old, he felt the rage tearing through his limbs. He took another step forward, the floor pulling at the ragged flesh on the arches of his feet.

   "You must feel nothing...My son."