"See you tomorrow."
Fagan ran his finger over the words written in Braille, almost not believing them. Every year, since the day he was born, he'd received a card on his birthday. Each one had said, "See you in such and such years", with the year numbering down each time.
The birthday cards had no name on them. Just the initials MB. Fagan had no idea who MB was. He didn't know anyone who had those two initials. Truthfully, he didn't know that many people.
The elders who cared for him and gave him his daily lessons. The other omegas in the monastery. The guards who kept those at the monastery safe. And the lawyer who came once a year to deliver Fagan's birthday card to him.
That was pretty much it.
He'd been delivered to the monastery the day after he was born. He knew no other life. He'd read a lot and he'd certainly heard stories, but he didn't know how many of them were true and how many were simply rumors or wishful thinking.
Fagan certainly had a lot of wishful thinking about the outside world. He dreamed of no longer being restricted to life inside the walls of the monastery. He wanted to see what was beyond those walls, or at least experience it.
Even if it was just for a few minutes.
"Fagan, time for your lessons."
"Yes, elder." Fagan tucked his latest birthday card away in his keepsake box then stood and followed after the elder. He had his walking stick in his pocket, but he'd walked through these corridors so many times, he could do it in his sleep.
Once he reached his first class, he made his way to his assigned spot and took up the proper pose—one hand clasping his wrist behind his back, head tilted down, eyes lowered, and feet exactly six inches apart. It was a pose he'd been taught from the time he could stand on his own two feet.
When Elder Fallon walked in and stood at the front of the room, he clapped his hands together and said, "All right, let us begin."
He was a man of few words.
Fagan began his stretches, making sure he was loose and limber then settled himself down on his pad on the floor. He crossed his legs and settled his hands on his knees. When he heard the unmistakable sound of the steel grates over the windows lifting, he tilted his face up. The first ray of sunshine drew a quick breath from him before everything in him settled.
He didn't understand many of the elders' teachings, but he loved this one. Every morning, the first thing he did was meditate as the sun was coming up. The elders insisted on it. They said that he needed to center himself in order to maintain a calm demeanor throughout the day.
Fagan wasn't sure how true that was, but he'd been meditating first thing in the morning for so long, he didn't know any other way to start his day. The summer days when the elders opened the doors and the first rays of sunshine came through with a soft breeze were the best. Fagan couldn't see them, but he sure could feel the sun's warmth and cool morning air as they moved across his face.
Fagan cleared his mind then concentrated on filling himself with calm. He felt the presence of the others in the room, his fellow students and teachers. As his awareness of the cosmos moved out in an ever expanding circle, he felt the presence of more students and teachers, the elders and guards. He felt it all before and was easily able to mute their presence.
There was one presence he was searching for. The one he always searched for. He couldn't see him or hear him, but he knew the man's warmth like a flickering light in his soul. It had been there as long as he could remember, comforting him, soothing him when he was afraid. Fagan feared what would happen if that presence ever left him.
He breathed in a long, slow breath and reached out through the cosmos for the warmth, his golden man among the stars. He was out there somewhere, waiting. He was always waiting. Fagan sucked in a shallow breath when he felt it, the warmth surrounding him.
He often wondered if the others had a golden warrior to warm them. Maybe he was the only one. He didn't know. He certainly didn't ask. Wistful thinking was not allowed and Fagan worried what would be done to him if any of the elders ever discovered his secret.
He soaked in the warmth. If someone had asked him what the feeling was that floated through him each time he connected with his mystery man, he would have been at a loss for words to describe it. It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced in his life. Of course, having lived his entire existence inside a monastery, that wasn't saying much.
The persistent clinking of the waking bells drew Fagan from his meditative state. As reluctant as he was to stay in the warmth of his sun, he knew he couldn't. He drew in a couple of cleansing breaths then opened his eyes. He waited for the bells to stop then stood to his feet and shuffled toward the door. It was time for his next class.
