Taking Rank

by Hana Steven

  “That’s okay,” I reply. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

  “Can’t say that’s something I want to hear,” she replies. Turning more to the group in general, she says, “My name is Elizabeth. But please call me Liz.”

  “I’m Sylphy,” I say, introducing myself.

  The rest of our group introduces themselves before Liz leads us off towards the ring and the general.

  “Are you ready?” the general asks me when we arrive.

  I nod.

  “You can’t be serious,” Johnson says. “You really expect me to fight a little kid?”

  “That didn’t seem to stop you earlier,” Gale taunts.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll end it quick,” I add.

  Johnson outright growls at me, then says, “Fine. If you want a fight then I’ll make sure to teach you some respect.”

  I just grin at him as the general walks past us toward the roped off ring.

  Holding a plastic cone up to his mouth, he calls out, “Attention!”

  Everyone around us suddenly stops talking and comes to attention, looking at the general.

  “At ease. Today I came across a troubling scene,” the general says. “Instead of standard disciplinary action, I thought we would settle this in a more entertaining way. Sergeant Johnson here decided to take justice into his own hands and attack a visitor at our fair base.”

  I expected booing at that, but the crowd remains quite.

  “With the agreement of our guests,” the general continues, “I have arranged for the fight to continue in the form of a duel. The sergeant’s opponent will be young…” He turns to me, “Sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

  “Sylphy,” I reply. “My name’s Sylphy.”

  “His opponent will be young Sylphy here,” he resumes.

  “Okay, you two,” Liz says. “Get on out there.”

  I duck under the rope as Johnson steps over it on Liz’s other side. A low murmur goes through the crowd now as they get a good look at me.

  “The rules are simple,” the general announces. “No weapons, the first one to concede or fall unconscious loses. Both myself and Kyota, Sylphy’s father, reserve the right to end the fight if we feel it is getting out of hand.” The general looks from Johnson to me while saying, “Take your positions. When I call out to begin, you may start.”

  I nod then move off to one side of the ring before turning to face my opponent. Johnson has moved more to the middle and is now smiling at me as if he has already won.

  “Begin!” the general announces.

  I trigger the shield I have prepared and observe the man as I prepare a Wind Blast. Johnson, meanwhile, is conjuring a couple more of his icicles.

  With a wave of his hand, three arm-length spears of ice fly toward me; they hit my shield and shatter with a satisfying crash. A surprised look crosses his face only to be replaced with a scowl as he sends more ice spears flying.

  Is that the only spell you know? I scoff in my head.

  I wait for a few moments more before deciding that he either doesn’t know any other spells, or is an idiot to keep wasting mana on something that clearly doesn’t work. Dropping my prepared Wind Blast I instead throw a Fireball over my shield toward him.

  As soon as his attention is drawn by the Fireball, I drop my shield and rush forward, catching him in the gut with my shoulder. As Johnson hits the ground, I stand up and catch my Fireball again before holding it down in his face.

  “Want to keep going?” I ask loudly enough for others to hear me.

  Johnson replies in a low growl, “Like I’ll ever admit defeat to a brat like you!”

  “Suit yourself,” I tell him, throwing the Fireball at the ground beside his head as I leap back.

  Johnson lets out a yelp of surprise as the spell impacts right by his ear. The flames fade quickly and I follow up with a Parasite Snare, binding the man to the ground and sapping whatever mana he still has left.

  With a sigh, I turn and walk back toward the general.

  “Get back here and fight!” Johnson yells out.

  I glance over my shoulder before looking at the general. “How far can I take this? I’m rather annoyed at him. First, he doesn’t want to fight, now he won’t give up.”

  The general gives me an appraising look before answering, “Knock him out, if you must, but try not to give him any lasting injuries.”

  “Right,” I acknowledge.

  Turning back to Johnson, I summon a Wind Blast above him then simply let it fall. Being air, it falls rather slowly. When it does come into contact with the man, a good-sized twister erupts around him, ripping the vines to shreds and lifting Johnson and a bunch of dirt up into the air. He reaches a height of about six feet before the spell disperses and he falls back to the ground.

  “Ooh,” I wince. That’s not what I thought would happen.

  Moving back to him, I make sure I didn’t over-do it; Johnson is unconscious, but breathing. He is covered in scrapes and several bruises are starting to form, but as far as I can tell there’s nothing more severe.

  Satisfied that he isn’t really hurt, I head back over to the general. “I don’t think he’s going to be doing much for a while.”

  “How old are you?” the general asks me.

  “Ten, we think,” I reply.

  He gives me an odd look then glances behind me. “If you’re only ten, remind me not to piss you off later on.”

  I grin and nod my head.

  Stepping around me, he heads over to Johnson, gives him a once over, and announces, “Young Sylphy is the winner by knockout!” He pauses for a moment then continues, “Now that you have seen this for yourselves, I want to reiterate my desire to have some form of training to deal with magic wielders. That is all—dismissed!”

  “I appreciate you going along with my little idea,” the general says as he returns. “I’ll have the major here,” he motions to Liz, “take you to the house you can use tonight. I’ll see you in the morning to discuss the training request.”

  “About the training,” Dad says. “We talked it over and, for the time being, anyway, we will help.”

  “Oh, that’s great news!” the general says happily. “When would you like to start?”

  “We can begin tomorrow,” Dad replies. “I have an idea on how to start, but it will require a large, open area that preferably can handle a large amount of water.”

  “I think that can be arranged,” the general says thoughtfully. “In any case, I will see you in the morning to talk about the details. So for now, just make yourselves at home.”

  With that, the general heads off.

  “Well, then,” Liz speaks up. “If you’ll please follow me, I’ll show you to your residence for the time being.”

  Chapter 14

  Touring and Training

  We arrive at a plain white two-story house on a road with several other identical houses. The only thing making each house different is the yards; some only have a well-trimmed lawn and the occasional tree, while others have beautiful flowerbeds. This house has a modest bed of flowers and a large oak with a tire swing hanging from it.

  “This house will be yours to use for as long as you stay,” Liz explains as we walk up the sidewalk. “The general sent some men here earlier to get things set up for you, but I will be more than happy to show you around tomorrow and help you find anything you need in the commissary or exchange.” Liz unlocks and opens the front door before ushering us in.

  “Thank you,” Poseidon says. “A tour would be very helpful.”

  “My pleasure,” Liz replies. “Now, do you have everything you need for tonight?”

  “I think we’ll be fine,” Dad answers.

  “Okay then, here are your keys. I’ll see you in the morning.” With that, Liz heads back down the road.

  With a glance at Gale, we both run off to explore our new home. The main floor consists of a bedroom with a bed and wardrobe; a bathroom; a living room containing a couch, two chairs, and a coffee
table; and a large kitchen with a table and chairs set off to one side.

  Heading up the stairs that are opposite the front door, we come to a small landing with two doors, each of which leads to a bedroom. Poking around in the first room, we find a chest at the foot of the bed and a wardrobe standing in a corner. Gale wastes no time flopping down onto the bed while I take a look out the window. This window looks out over the backyard where I can see an unplanted garden, a picnic table, and a stone structure that I don’t recognize.

  “What do you think?” Poseidon asks from the door.

  “I like beds” Gale replies.

  I giggle at her response.

  “So, I was thinking,” Poseidon continues with an amused grin on her face, “we should take the rooms up here. Let the boys have downstairs.”

  “We get our own room?” Gale asks.

  “Yes,” Poseidon answers with a chuckle. “You two can have a room to yourselves. You don’t have to bunk with your dad.”

  “Yeah!” I cheer.

  “Can we have this room?” Gale asks.

  “Sure,” Poseidon replies. “I suggested that the three of us take these rooms and the boys seemed fine with it. Why don’t you leave your bags and bring what food you are carrying downstairs and we can get something cooking.”

  “‘Kay,” we agree in unison.

  Poseidon rolls her eyes at us and heads off toward the other bedroom.

  Gale and I set our packs on either side of the chest, then gather all of the foodstuffs and head downstairs. After a quick but tasty meal, we lounge around in the living room with our books before heading to bed.

  The next morning we are in the middle of breakfast when there is a knock on the door. Poseidon goes to answer it and returns a minute later with the general and Liz.

  “Apologies for interrupting,” the general greets.

  “Not to worry,” Dad replies. “I know we get around later than you military types.”

  “Yes, I admit I didn’t even consider it,” the general admits. “And I should have known better when you have kids with you. Please feel free to keep eating.”

  “Glad to,” Gale says, taking another bite of bacon.

  Liz chuckles at that.

  The general clears his throat before beginning, “I have arranged for two groups to train with you, one in the morning and one in the afternoon. The morning group will begin at ten-thirty hours, so you have plenty of time to get acquainted with the base.”

  “How big are these groups?” Dad asks.

  “A battalion each,” Liz responds. “That’s around four hundred and sixty soldiers for each session. Both groups volunteered and have excellent leaders.”

  “Four hundred people!” I exclaim. “That’s like…more than twenty for each of us.”

  “Try eighty,” Erik corrects with a grin.

  “That many shouldn’t be a problem,” Dad says. “Although it looks like I need to work with the girls on their math, too.”

  “We of course leave it up to you to keep or drop each individual soldier,” the general adds. “I’m planning to make special units that work outside the normal chain of command so they can be dispatched where they are needed.”

  “Sound like a good idea,” Poseidon agrees.

  Dad nods in agreement. “Yes, though I doubt I will be letting any go. If they can’t learn magic they can at least learn to fight it.”

  “Sounds like you’ve put some thought into this since last night,” Liz comments.

  “Yes,” agrees the general. “Since you seem to have it under control, I’ll leave you in Liz’s capable hands.”

  Dad walks the general out while Liz takes a seat at the table. “So, anything you guys need? Or is there anything you want to see? The general asked me to show you whatever you want as long as it’s not classified.”

  “Can we see the shooting range?” Erik requests. “I’d really like to see some of the cool guns the military has.”

  “Guns suck,” I comment. “All they do is hurt people.”

  “Sounds like you have experience with them,” Liz says.

  I nod. “I was kidnapped and held by bandits. Nothing good ever happened when guns got involved.”

  “I agree wholeheartedly,” Liz says. “But sometimes the only way to fight against people with guns is to use guns ourselves.”

  “I know. But that doesn’t mean I have to like them.”

  “You really are a smart girl,” Poseidon says. “Nobody should like to use guns on other people.”

  “Agreed,” states Liz. “We can look at the range, and if you don’t like guns, we have bows too.”

  “You have bows?” Erik asks. “Is that effective?”

  “Not when compared with our standard munitions,” Liz explains. “But ammo is much easier to get for bows than guns nowadays.”

  “Makes sense,” Dad says, returning to his seat. “I imagine most ammo was machine made.”

  “It was,” Liz confirms. “Just like learning to fight with and against magic, we started training in archery to offset the cost of ammunition.”

  “I could be wrong,” Dad begins, “but I feel like you girls might enjoy archery.”

  Gale and I share a look, shrug, and turn back to our food.

  “For now, let’s finish eating,” he suggests. “Then before we leave, Gale, you need to change.”

  “Okay,” Gale sighs.

  “And you girls need to gather a change of clothes and some towels,” Dad continues.

  I notice Liz giving Gale an appraising look. Despite being clearly confused at Dad’s instructions, she doesn’t comment.

  After a few minutes, Gale and I return to our room and gather a change of clothes in a towel bundle that I tie together into a little backpack. Gale undresses and changes back into her fox form before we head back downstairs.

  Liz looks over to us as we enter the living room. “Where’s your sister?” After an expectant period she spots Gale. “What in the…?”

  With an amused grin, I reply, “This is Gale.”

  “What do you mean, that’s Gale? Your sister…” she trails off for a moment. “Silver fur, just like her hair, and she did have a tail and animal ears. Those weren’t a costume?”

  Gale shakes her head before hopping up on the couch beside Liz.

  Liz watches her carefully. “How…unexpected. You are ridiculously tough for a girl your age, and your sisters a were-fox.”

  “Kitsune,” I correct. “And you’d try and get as strong as you can, too, if you were held against your will for years.”

  “Kitsune, right,” Liz concedes. “And you are right; I probably would want to get stronger if that happened to me, though that does raise many questions about you.”

  “I’d rather not talk about it,” I inform her.

  “Understood, but if you ever change your mind,” she offers, “I would be willing to listen.”

  I give her a nod and sit down beside Gale, who puts her head in my lap.

  A few minutes later and we all follow Liz out for our tour of the base. Over the next hour or so we visit the commissary and exchange; the mess hall, where we are welcome to come for meals; the hangers, filled with all sorts of now useless planes, tanks, and other vehicles; and finally the shooting range, which Liz explains is actually called the firing range.

  The range is a long rectangular patch of dirt with tables separated by walls at one end where we enter and big round targets set up at varying distances from them.

  “Today is a non-firearm day, so you don’t need to worry about hearing protection,” Liz explains. Then, indicating a thick white line running under the tables, she says, “But please, remember not to cross this line unless permission is given.”

  “You mean there aren’t any guns today?” Erik asks, clearly disappointed. “Why not?”

  “Since ammo is hard to come across and takes time to make, we limit the number of days you are allowed to practice with guns,” answers a man with very short black hair. Stoppi
ng in front of us, he continues, “I’m Colonel Davis, the range master. I’m in charge of the firing range.”

  “Hello,” I greet, followed by the rest.

  “What can I help you with, Major General?” Colonel Davis asks, saluting Liz.

  “I’m giving our guests here a tour and Erik wanted to see the range,” she replies. “Would it be alright if they tried their hand at archery?”

  The colonel gives us an appraising look, pausing a bit on me, then answers, “As long as they follow the rules, don’t get in anyone’s way, and replace anything they break, then I have no problem with that. God knows we have low enough turnout on non-firearm days to have plenty of open booths.”

  “We really get to shoot at a military range?” Erik asks, excited.

  “Bows, yes,” Colonel Davis replies. “But not guns; unless you want to buy the ammo first.”

  “That’s still really cool!” Erik cheers.

  The colonel grins at him. “Then come on, let’s find you two a couple of bows.”

  I falter as he and Erik head off.

  It can’t hurt to try, Gale tells me. You can always quit later. I, for one, think it looks fun.

  I nod at her comments as Dad gives me a nudge. “Go on; you won’t know you don’t like it if you don’t at least give it a chance.”

  I grin and Gale snickers as he echoes her own advice.

  Colonel Davis helps Erik and I find bows that are not too unwieldy for us; mostly me, since Erik is almost as tall as an adult. He then takes us to two of the tables, which are the booths he mentioned, and gives us a short lecture on safety and the rules.

  “The rules are pretty simple,” he explains. “Don’t knock an arrow unless you are aiming down range; don’t dry fire your bow, that means drawing it back and releasing without an arrow; if a cease fire is called, stop firing immediately–there are a few seconds of good grace, but you should try to stop as soon as you can; and stay behind the firing line until an all clear is given. When you’re done, wait until an all clear then go and retrieve your arrows. There are fifteen arrows at each booth; I expect there to be fifteen there when you leave.”