But…
“Master,” he said, dropping to his knees in front of Castien’s chair. He picked up his Master’s hand and kissed his black ring, looking him in the eye. “I don’t want anyone else inside my mind. Only you. Please, Master.”
Castien’s face was completely still, his gaze unreadable as he stared at him.
“This will not work, Eridan,” he said at last. “You can stop batting your eyelashes. I will not change my mind.”
“I’m not ‘batting my eyelashes,’” Eridan said indignantly. “That’s my face.”
Castien’s lips twitched. “Indeed it is.”
“Master, please,” Eridan said softly, dropping his gaze before looking back into Castien’s blue eyes. “I really hate the thought of some stranger touching my mind. It makes me sick.”
Castien’s lips thinned. “That is precisely why you need someone else to guide you. You are too used to me. Master Tker might succeed in teaching you to meditate where I failed.”
Eridan scoffed. “Right. You’re the best mind adept of the Order.”
“That may be true, but unlike me, Master Tker specializes in meditation. He might be able to help you.”
“I don’t want him to help me,” Eridan grumbled.
“Eridan,” his Master said coldly. “Stop being a child. My decision is final. You have an appointment with Master Tker tomorrow evening at eight o’clock.”
Eridan scowled and stormed out of the room, all etiquette forgotten. If his Master had an issue with it, fuck him. Why should he care about the opinion of someone who didn’t care about his? Who was so eager to pass him to another Master and let another man mess with Eridan’s mind?
His eyes were stinging, and Eridan told himself those were tears of anger, not hurt.
***
The appointment with Master Tker was as disastrous as Eridan had expected.
“Drop your shields and let me in,” Master Tker said, looking at him impassively.
Eridan tried, he really did, but as soon as he felt Tker touch his mind, he slammed his shields down.
“Initiate Eridan!” Master Tker said.
Eridan ground his teeth, glaring at the man. He hated it when people addressed him like that instead of as Apprentice Eridan. Although both forms of address were valid while he was a probationary apprentice, most people still addressed him as apprentice. Tker clearly wanted to put him in his place.
“I’m trying, Master,” he ground out.
Your mind just feels wrong.
Eridan didn’t say it; he knew better. An apprentice was never supposed to get attached to one telepathic presence, especially that of their own Master. Training bonds were just training bonds; they weren’t at all like the strong marriage bonds artificially formed between Calluvian couples. A good mind adept of the Order was supposed to be able to navigate through any mind, without feeling aversion to telepathic contact with strangers. Admitting that Eridan didn’t want to feel any other mind but his Master’s would be grounds for immediate expulsion to the servicing department.
So he clenched his jaw and tried again, trying to relax enough to drop his shields.
He thought it worked for a moment—he could feel Tker enter the outer layers of his mind—but when the man slid deeper, Eridan shoved him out, nausea rising up his throat. Wrong, wrong, wrong. He opened his eyes and stared at Master Tker warily, his muscles tense and shields back in place. He couldn’t do it.
“I can’t do it,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t touch me.”
Master Tker shook his head, looking disturbed. “I’m surprised Master Idhron has tolerated such a disobedient learner for so long. I will report this to him, of course.”
“Do whatever you want,” Eridan said and all but ran out of the room. He felt… He felt vaguely dirty. Violated, even though Tker had barely touched his mind. He wanted…
He wanted his Master.
Eridan scowled at the thought. What was wrong with him? His Master was the reason he felt like this. If Castien cared about him even a little bit, he wouldn’t have done this. This was all Castien’s fault.
He still wanted his Master. Wanted his Master’s presence in him to chase away the wrong, nauseous feeling in his mind.
Eridan sighed, exasperated with himself. He looked around and realized that his feet had brought him to the castle. He could sense that Castien was somewhere close. Right. The Chapter had a meeting that day.
He should leave.
But he wanted his Master.
He should leave, dammit.
Eridan chewed on his lip, torn between his anger and the terrible yearning in his mind. Castien was a heartless bastard who didn’t give a shit about him. He shouldn’t need him. Not to mention that Castien wouldn’t lift a finger to make him feel better once he found out about Eridan’s less-than-proper conduct with Master Tker. In fact, Eridan wouldn’t be surprised if that would be the last straw that would finally make Castien send him to the servicing department.
Because Castien wasn’t really his Master yet. It was just a test run. The test run he was clearly failing.