Makings of a Monster

Jelena’s worried face, her eyes still puffy from sleep, appeared into the doorway. She shivered of cold and crouched next to Sarevok, touching his arm.
- "Honey, what is it? Are you ill?"
The look of horror and despair on his face alarmed her greatly.
- "Mother, please. You can't help me."
- "I heard you throw up. Why don't you come back in?" She leaned closer and was shocked and hurt when Sarevok flinched away from her, something he had never done before.
- "I don't understand. Please tell me what it is."
- "Gods, mother! Go away!" snapped the boy and shot her an angry, anguished look. Jelena started to cry, not understanding and terribly hurt. As she retreated back inside, she could see Sarevok's face crumble and his shoulders shake, but no tears coming. She paced a while, thinking of what to do, and then made a decision. She walked to the part of house where Winski's chambers were and knocked on the door.

In only a few seconds the man appeared at the doorway, looking surprised and wearing a robe, surprisingly for a magician the only one he owned.
- "Jelena? Come in." He retreated and Jelena could see the muscles of his back moving. He looked so different from Reiltar, moved so gracefully compared to him. Winski sat on his bed, leaning on the headboard and Jelena followed, blushing at intruding his privacy.
- "I'm sorry to disturb your sleep and intrude, but there's something very wrong with Sarevok," she explained, cautiously sitting on the bed as well.
- "He sits outside and is very upset, and I heard him throw up many times. I tried to talk to him and ask him to come back in, but he... told me to go away and wouldn't come," she continued, starting to cry at the pain of the memory.
- "Was he rude to you?" There was a profound worry and pity in Winski's eyes.
- "In a way, but it doesn't matter."
- "Come on, Jelena. I can see that it hurt you a lot."
- "Well yes, but it is him I worry about. I don't understand. He's never been like that before."
- "I see. I think it would be best that I go see him, then. I'll talk to you once I have a better idea of what it is about."

They left, and Winski didn't know whether he was more angry at the boy for hurting his mother, or worried of his condition. The boy still sat outside the house, near the entrance, sitting on the cold stone stairs clutching his knees and rocking himself like a small child. Winski's anger evaporated. Jelena was right. This was something serious.
He sat next to the boy and just waited for a while. Sarevok didn't seem to react to his presence. Winski hoped that he had at least noticed it. He worked his voice casual and impassionate in order not to scare him.
- "Sarevok. I'm wondering what has upset you that bad."
He uttered a strange noise, like an animal setting off a trap and feeling a mix of dread and pain. He clutched his knees desperately and tried to make himself into a small, tight ball. He shook violently.
- "I don't think this is about being physically ill, Sarevok. You think you could trust me enough to tell me about it?" Ouch, no good, manipulative, blackmailing. Damn hard this loving stuff. I used to think I don't believe in love because it is stupid. Perhaps the real reason was that it is scary.

- "I mean, you obviously don't have to. But you know that I feel that embarrassing l word for you. In abundance. I would want to help you."
- "No one can help me." His voice was hollow and desperate, like a voice of a cursed soul from a grave.
- "Ah. But could you at least tell me what makes you so sure of that?" Winski felt such a profound pity and willingness to protect the boy that he really had to work to keep his voice dispassionate and casual. Now the boy at least was speaking, and discrediting his words or reacting too strongly might cause him to retreat back into his anguish.
Sarevok looked at his teacher with his huge, pained eyes, started to look for words and then blushed, shaking his head. Damn, damn, damn, thought Winski.

- "Your mother tried to help you, but you told her to go away. I have a feeling that it is somehow significant." Sarevok flinched at the mention of Jelena, pain and guilt apparently shattering him.
The boy was silent for a while, then asked in a small voice: "Have you ever felt something... disgusting in your... private part?"
Disgusting? What on earth was the boy talking about?
- "I'm not sure what you mean by that, Sarevok. Could you be a bit more specific?" Obviously being even this specific was causing him great distress, but Winski just had to get some more clues. At this moment he almost hoped he could become his old intellectual, cold, cynical, confident self again, safe from the power of emotions.

- "First it starts not so bad and you think of women. Or their bodies, and then... that comes."
- "You mean wanting to touch yourself, in a special way?" Winski tried to make his expressions neutral and unthreatening. He was still puzzled. What could cause the boy to feel that guilty about masturbation?
Sarevok nodded enthusiastically.
- "Little one, dear..." Winski's voice was very gentle now as were his eyes. "I don't understand why you feel that bad about it. Of course I have done it. I'm sure everyone has. It is quite natural and doesn't harm anyone."
Sarevok looked shocked and a bit angry.
- "How can you say that? I don't ever want to do it again! It is the most dirty and disgusting thing, and I won't ever do that to any woman! It is all wrong!" the boy exclaimed.
Now Winski certainly was out of his depth. Oh god of cynical, evil wizards, please come and save me from caring.

- "Why do you say that? Women like it too, just like men. It is an arrangement that has a very specific purpose."
But Sarevok looked angry enough to hit him.
- "Mother certainly doesn't like that! She cries to her pillow so long time after... it. " He spat the last word. "And she looks all broken and scared for many days..."
Oh. Of course. Well done, Winski. Ten points for quick grasp. What would the boy know about the mutual enjoyment, primal pleasure, carnal camaraderie, laughs, touches when all he hears is that stomach-turning rape in all but the technical detail of Jelena's consent, given out of not knowing an alternative, going on in the next room?

- "Sarevok. Please listen to me, and listen carefully. You are on a completely wrong track here. As you know, the bastard of a father of yours is a very disgusting person, and he can poison everything he does. When it is as it should, it is not like that at all. The man caresses the woman in special ways, makes her feel all dizzy and pleasant and good, and she does the same to him. The thing happening in that room is so far from what it should be, that... well I don't know what could be so far from anything."
Sarevok nodded and looked lost. How could he know.

- "You already said that you never would want to do that to any woman. Tell me... is there a special woman you would have noticed in that way?"
- "Well..." Sarevok blushed. "Sometimes when Allonia climbs a rope and her buttocks move in that rhythmic way..."
Winski chuckled.
- "I must commend you on excellent taste. Between you and me, I have some experience of those very buttocks, and they feel just as good as they look. But don't you ever mention that to Allonia or anyone else. It is very bad manners to do so."
Sarevok stared at Winski in wonder.
- "Yes. We have made love, as it is called when it is done proper. Could you imagine that I would do something like the thing you have been hearing to Allonia, and still be alive, let alone work with her?"
Sarevok shook his head, the pain on his face starting to relieve.
- "Do you love Allonia?" he asked in wonder.
- "Oh gods, no. I like her a lot, and respect her. That is all you need for making love. They say it is even better with a woman you love. I wouldn't know, but it is pleasant enough regardless."
Sarevok seemed to be in deep thought. No wonder.

- "Little one, we both freeze to death soon. Now you go to sleep, and try to think about what I have told you. And next morning you apologize to your mother for being mean to her. Not that she hasn't already forgiven you, but that way you get a peace for yourself as well."
Sarevok nodded, even smiled a little, and took Winski's hand. As they walked inside Winski took care to appear relaxed and good-natured, but inside he was smouldering. Damn you, you horrible, disgusting bastard Reiltar! He shuddered to think how permanently the man could have already distorted and shattered Sarevok's very identity. He took solace in his customary vivid daydream of murdering the man, but wasn't sure that any amount of revenge would be enough to quell the consuming hatred eating him alive.