Shan’s face flared as he absorbed her words. “I can’t believe you would say that to me after all these years. After everything that we have been through, you are just going to turn your back and walk away from me.”
Jozlyn’s voice grew colder as she replied. “That’s right, Shan. I walk away, something that you can’t do yourself. You can’t walk and you can’t fight. You can’t even function as a normal human being, and you will be of no use to us. And that is why you are staying in Axiter.”
Shan halted in his tracks, throwing down his cane. He was clearly drunk, his condition worsened with the fuel of emotion coursing within his veins. It was then that Jozlyn finally stopped. Halting Surewind, she told her steed to stay where he was. With deliberate steps, she turned around and approached the former Bannar defender. Pausing only briefly, she picked up the cane that he had thrown down and then stood before him. Jozlyn looked into his weary, drunken eyes for long moments, and what she said next Serra could not hear, but would learn about it later.
“Listen to me, Shan. I ask you to listen because I am your friend. I have been on the road with you for five long years. And there is one thing that I know about you, and that is you are lost. You are no longer Shan Fellar, just a miserable shell of what you used to be.”
Shan was growing angry under the scrutiny. He began to shift on his unsure legs, ready to burst and return fire at Jozlyn. Jozlyn did not let him. She shoved the cane into his stomach and hands, getting his undivided attention once more. “But-”
“No buts. I’m telling you to stay here, Shan. I am doing this because if you are ever going to find yourself again, I truly believe this will be the place to start.” Jozlyn let her words sink in for a long moment. “Bannar is dead, Shan. I have seen you dwell on the shadows of your memories for far too long. Your country, what is left of it, is still right here. Now you can wake up and fight for everything you once stood for, or you can drink yourself into self-imposed oblivion. I cannot make that choice for you. But, Shan, I am not going to watch you destroy yourself any longer. And I am not going to let you put any of the lives on this journey in jeopardy, including my own.” She pulled Shan close her now, so that their eyes were only an inch apart. “Stay here, Shan. Ask questions. Find answers. Search for everything that you have lost. Until you do, you are no good to anyone or your country.” Jozlyn then turned from him and stormed toward Serra and the others.
Not wanting to look like an eve’s dropper, Serra began to secure the contents of her pack. Jozlyn joined the group and fastened the horses next to the hovercycles. Serra let her have that moment before she went to her friend. She also took note that as Jozlyn busied herself, the gunslinger had indeed caught the eye of Voltaire. Serra smiled inwardly, making a mental note that she would have to have some fun with this situation later. And then something else occurred to her then: why wait? “Hey, Jozlyn!”
Jozlyn placed her pack down and approached Serra, putting her hands out for a hug. “Hey there, Ser-bear. Thanks for sticking around for the rest of us this time. I was serious yesterday for the record.”
Serra gave her friend a big squeeze. “Well I figured I needed someone to talk to this time, so you know, what the hay, I stuck around.”
“A wise choice indeed,” replied Jozlyn.
“If you say so.” Serra grabbed Jozlyn at her side, knowing full well that she was ticklish. As she looked at her Morganne friend, she decided that now was as good a time as any to get a ball rolling. “Hey, Esmie, could you come over here for a minute? You remember Jozlyn Corzon don’t you?”
Esmie took her right hand and touched her pointer finger and thumb in a loose fist from her head, to her lips and then her chest, bowing her head briefly. “Well of course, young one. How could I forget such a name? We met in Rahn once upon a time now, didn’t we? It is good to see you again, Jozlyn.”
The gunslinger nodded to the Ro’Nihn. “Likewise, Esmie. I remember watching you work. It may be warriors who get all the recognition in war, but a good soldier knows where the real honor goes to.”
“Why thank you, Jozlyn. You do me a great honor by your words,” said Esmie.
It was then that Serra gave Esmie a little nudge with her elbow before speaking. “You know, Esmie, I was just thinking. Jozlyn hasn’t had the chance to meet Voltaire yet.”
“She hasn’t?” This time Serra winked and instantly recognition crept upon the face of Esmie. “Oh my, she hasn’t, has she?” Serra picked up on the swift change of Esmie’s voice. “Well we had best do something about that right now! We can’t have strangers among this group, no sir!”
“That’s right,” smiled Serra, “just strange company.”
Esmie merrily skipped over to where Voltaire was still laying on his cycle seat, trying to remain unnoticed. Unfortunately for him, both Serra and Esmie had suspicions that he had started to take a liking to Jozlyn. And he was beginning to realize what was afoot. And there was no way that Esmie and Serra were going to miss out on this. “Voltaire, wake up already, ya lug!” She slapped her open hand upon Voltaire’s chest plate, making a not so polite smacking sound. Voltaire let out a loud grunt as Esmie coaxed him more. “Let’s go, mister, up, up up! Where are your manners anyway? We have someone we want you to meet. Hurry up now, Voltaire.”
Serra smiled as Voltaire got to his feet with a slow, painful reluctance. Knowing Esmie for as long as he had, Voltaire knew immediately where this was going. He had tried hard to hide his attraction to Jozlyn, but Esmie was sharp in such instances and with Serra helping, he had no chance whatsoever. Voltaire brought his large frame over toward Serra and Jozlyn.
“Dare I ask what’s so funny, Serra?” inquired Jozlyn with an arched eyebrow.
Serra quickly covered her smile, completely forgetting that Jozlyn was right next to her. “Oh, nothing, Joz. I was just thinking is all.”
“You’re full of it,” said Jozlyn.
About that time Esmie had made it over with Voltaire. The big man looked quite nervous in his boots. Serra and Esmie exchanged humorous glances. Esmie started the introductions with eloquence in her voice. “Jozlyn Corzon, I would like you to meet Voltaire of the Achylles clans. He’s just been dying to meet you ever since you made it to town.” Esmie gave Voltaire a little smirk as he glowered at her. Then her attention went back to the introduction. “And, Voltaire, this is Jozlyn Corzon, gunslinger from the town of Morganne.”
Jozlyn put her hand over her chest as she bowed slightly. She then extended her hand to the large Axiter Ro’Nihn. “Hello, Voltaire. I have heard stories of you in my travels.”
Fidgeting, Voltaire cupped his hands together. Kissing the tips of his fingers, he placed both hands on his chest, bowing his head. He then extended his right hand to shake the hand of Jozlyn. He noticed that her grip was quite strong. “H-hello, Jozlyn. It’s good to meet you as well. I can assure you that the stories that I have heard of you far exceed any stories you have heard of me.”
Jozlyn nodded curiously. “I’ve also heard many words follow your name on the road.”
Voltaire tried to smile easily, hoping he would not betray any more feelings of nervousness. He tried to break the ice by sounding overly confident. “Ah, Voltaire the Kind? Voltaire the Philosopher? Maybe Voltaire the Poet?”
Jozlyn responded in her usual, blunt fashion. “Actually, Voltaire the Coward is used quite a lot. And sometimes Voltaire the Soft. Once or twice I have even heard Voltaire the Butcher, but that one was far and between, and I think they were fellow comrades of yours. They could also have been being sarcastic, I'm not sure.”
“Oh,” said Voltaire.
“Well don’t they just make a pair, wouldn’t you agree, Serra?” Esmie could hardly contain herself now. “I was hoping they would hit it off, and they are well on their way. It is a splendid day already.”
Serra hugged herself warmly as she looked between her two friends now on the spot. “Yup, Esmie, I would agree. A splendid day indeed.”
Voltaire and Jozly
n both gave their respective friends a look of death. Giving Voltaire’s hand a final shake, Jozlyn turned back toward her horse. “It was a pleasure, Voltaire.”
“Likewise, Jozlyn,” murmured Voltaire.
But as Jozlyn turned, she did not make it more than a step and a half before she felt a sudden jerk on her shoulder. Not only was Voltaire still glaring at Esmie, but he was also still holding firmly and nervously onto Jozlyn’s hand. His head quickly spun around as he finally took notice of what he was doing. Jozlyn gave Voltaire a inquisitive look as his face began to take on color. “I think I am going to need that back, Voltaire.”
Immediately, Esmie and Serra broke into laughter as Voltaire replied. “Oh, uh, sorry about that I uh–” he stammered not realizing, he was still shaking Jozlyn’s hand.
“Um, Voltaire, I think you heard the lady. She is going to need that you know. Besides, you will have plenty of time to get to know her on the road.”
Finally, Voltaire released his grip on Jozlyn. Instantly, the blood began to return to the fingers of the gunslinger right hand. Jozlyn looked at him amusedly. “I would blame nerves, but I rather blame those two,” offered Voltaire.
“Pleasure meeting you, Voltaire,” said Jozlyn before she returned to her horse.
Voltaire sullenly watched her go. Serra and Esmie inched over to Voltaire, their laughter hardly containable. Esmie gave Voltaire a single backslap. “Oh, my dear, Voltaire, smooth that was not! Um, you might want to work on that approach a little, okay?”
“Voltaire the Romantic without a doubt,” said Serra happily.
Voltaire exhaled painfully as he looked somberly at his friends. “You...This is one of those few times, and I do mean few times, that I wish I was Voltaire the Vengeful. I swear, Esmie, I don’t know how I put up with you some days.”
Esmie rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, Voltaire, it wasn’t that bad, you big baby.”
“You’re horrible, Esmie.”
“Nonsense!”
He shook his head for emphasis. “Absolutely corrupt. Look what you’ve done to young Serra.”
“Pish posh!”
“I’m leaving you two now. You make quite a duo. I shall go back to my cycle and be Voltaire the Sullen now, thanks.”
Serra and Esmie watched him saunter back to his hovercycle with slow, dragging steps, yet they could not help but laugh. There was no mistaking it, Voltaire had feelings for Jozlyn, but Serra could also tell that Voltaire looked at the situation with resignation. Serra guessed that Voltaire believed he had no chance with someone like Jozlyn. However, in the end, he took his ribbing with good nature and continued lazing about on his ride.
“Oh my, Serra dear, that was just too good for words. I’m glad we set that ball in motion. Now we have something to do on the road.”
“Again, I thank you for corrupting me, Esmie. It is a lot of fun,” said Serra.
“Oh, nonsense young one, Norryn rubbed off on you well before you ever knew me.”
Serra could only shrug her shoulders in defeat. “Well you got me there.”
“Oh, I wonder what other mischief we may cause before we go off on our way.” Esmie looked around gleefully, her brown eyes merry and jubilant at the notion. “Now where is that Vonack character? This will be my crowning achievement on this shindig.”
Serra’s eyes immediately narrowed. “Don’t you dare, Esmie of the Ryndragus. Don’t even think of it. May I remind you that I do carry a gun.”
Esmie clasped her hands together. “Ah yes, what fun this shall be! Buh-bye for now, my dear!” And with tha,t Esmie was off.
Serra could feel the color coming to her face as Esmie skipped off to where Vonack was hovering. When she reached him, Serra saw Esmie wave and continue on her way. However, before she did, she turned back toward Serra, the evidence of a bright smile covering her face. Serra let out a sigh of relief as she inwardly planned out means to revenge.
Within a few moments Serra could see Rynsik and Wyndall nearing the fold with a small entourage in tow. Serra also saw a few warriors that she had been acquainted with yet, including Kascha. Rynsik was his usual contained self, though he was packed and ready for travel. Wyndall met Serra with open arms as Rynsik passed by her to ready his cycle. At the sight of Wyndall and Rynsik, the rest of the party roused and prepared to depart.
Wyndall gave Serra a deep and sincere embrace. “It is with a heavy heart that I see you venture north, Serra Landring. I will take some comfort in knowing that you are not alone, and that you're in capable company.”
Serra matched Wyndall’s hug in strength and sincerity. “Thank you, Wyndall. I am indebted to you again. Though I know not what we will find, find it, we will.”
“Of this, I have no doubt.” Holding Serra at arm's length, he nodded, smiling at his young friend before turning his attention to the rest of the group. “I wish you all safe journeys and thank you for courage in this time of need. Rynsik and I have discussed a route and means of travel that we hope will keep all of you as safe as possible. I leave the leadership of this group in his capable hands.” He looked at Serra again. “And I have the full trust that he will see you through to the end.”
How comforting, thought Serra glumly as she smiled at Wyndall. “That’s good enough for me,” she said, lying.
Serra watched as family members of her fellow travel partners said their goodbyes. She could feel the feelings bleeding off these wonderful people. There was no reservation of emotion in any of them (save for Rynsik of course). And while the expressions of their emotions were not overdone, Serra had no doubt in her mind that from them came a complete honesty and love that was warming to feel.
Finally, Rynsik returned to the fold. It was Kascha of the Dryganus that met him first, placing both of her hands on his shoulders. She looked at him piercingly, and in her gaze. Serra could see a gruff, motherly love. For a long moment neither said a word, but it was Kascha, who spoke. “Remember your training, Rynsik, but more than that, remember who you are. My hopes are that this is the journey that shall finally bring you home.”
At this, Rynsik said nothing, choosing to embrace his mentor. Their hug was quick, yet deep. Kascha turned and was gone. For a second Rynsik watched her go. He then turned his attention to his father. Unlike Kascha, Wyndall had nothing to hide. In his eyes was a father’s love, devoid of fear or doubt. Placing his hand behind Rynsik’s neck he pulled the boy in for an embrace.
Still squeezing tightly, Wyndall spoke softly. “No matter what fate decides for your course, I am proud of you, and I love you. Inside you are the spirit and man that I hope those with you will someday see. Be safe, my son, and be true. I will see you again.”
Rynsik pulled from Wyndall to look at him once more. “My heart goes with you,” said Rynsik.
“And mine with you,” said Wyndall. He looked at the rest of Serra’s companions. “And to the rest of you. I am humbled by your courage in the presence of such a duty. Wherever the winds may take you, may that be where you stand true. May peace fill our days.”
With that all the Axiter warriors present responded in unison. “Until peace fills our days.” Smiling once more, Wyndall and his entourage turned and were gone.
Rynsik tarried a moment longer before going back to his cycle. The rest of his warriors followed suit, making last minute checks on their equipment. Jozlyn readied her horse Surewind. Serra and Vonack soon followed, readying their own steeds.
It was Voltaire that spoke first. “So, what’s the plan, boss man?"”
Rynsik finished tightening his pack to his cycle before responding. “Quite simple and to the point. We head northeast and do our duties as Ro'Nihn of Axiter.” Serra was about to ask why northeast and not northwest in the direction they needed to go when Rynsik continued, apparently knowing what was on Serra’s mind. “And we do this with a purpose. We want to bring as little attention to our search as possible. When Serra was captured last, the enemy was looking for her. So, we are venturing out as a typical Axiter party and e
scort, and we will do our rounds. The longer we can go without notice the better. We will stop at towns along the way, and slowly we will correct our course and end up where we need to be. This is the longer, roundabout way, but here will obviously be spies watching, so we will not play their game, nor will be go on any ways they would suspect us to go. Our size and our secrecy will be our allies.”
“Sounds sensible,” said Jozlyn. “Are you expecting much resistance on the road?”
Rynsik hit the switches that brought his hovercycle humming to life. “It’s hard to say, though I doubt highly that we won’t have any trouble. Thorne’s forces have become increasingly bold in terms of small squad tactics. Though I do feel strongly that the amount of resistance we find will be lessened on this route.”
“So you say,” said Vonack in an accusing tone. They were the first words that Serra had heard him utter all day.
Rynsik stepped off his ride and approached the Bannar native. “Vonack isn’t it? Yes. I do say. If you have a problem with that or me then I suggest you come out with it right now. I won’t have the time or the patience for it when we leave here.”
The two stared at fiercely at each other. Serra rolled her eyes inwardly. Good grief, Vonack, do you have to start a fight with everyone? Vonack was of course larger and older than Rynsik, but this fact seemed not to bother Rynsik in the slightest. Serra saw no fear in the Ro’Nihn as he stood his ground with casual ease. Everyone could feel an disquiet rising in their midst. Serra had recalled the many encounters that Vonack and Norryn had exchanged in years past. She also knew that Rynsik would not be as patient with the older boy as Norryn had once been.
Finally, Vonack spoke his mind. “Well not including my protest to this entire mission as a whole, I’d say I have a handful of problems, namely you in general. First, I don’t believe you should be leading this party. Secondly, you are in the presence of two representatives of the combined armies of Vallance and that takes precedence over any authority you might have, for as Ro’Nihn of Axiter you are in the service of Esaundra Denore and the leaders of Vallance. Thirdly, someone with your questionable experience only bolsters my first two arguments. I could go on, but I think even you could see that is unnecessary.”
Echoes of Ashener Page 18