by John O.
There was a catch, however. The spirits could not afford for their host to die without issue; for it would render them trapped within a false world, unable to roam free for all eternity. As a result, the spirits lived on by moving from one host to another during procreation. The Bakura-inspired war was therefore not only detrimental to the humans, it also significantly reduced the population of the spirits such that only few managed to escape unscathed.
“So I am not alone,” Oracion realized. What she had just discovered explained Prisca’s powers to an extent. But if there were others with a spirit as powerful as the Rangelica, then there was no telling when the agendas of the possessors would clash. This called for more caution, Oracion reasoned. In the meantime however, from what she read, it was clear that only very few spirits, many of which were now extinct, could rival the power of the Rangelica. This meant that the chances of someone with greater powers than she were not high. Feeling some level of assurance, she decided to practice her new found ability.
Focused, she firmly shut her eyes and scanned through the Helesp to find most asleep, save for the guards and Spyinme on duty. Moving on to the Ishe’s palace, she observed as Juli, the wife of the now late Ishe, wept in her bed as she came to terms with her status as a widow. Bored and unapologetic, she continued to scan through the Island for anything worthy of interest. That was when the idea to spy on the Ispris’ residence struck her. Perhaps with this new ability, she would finally be able to spy on that poseur. To her surprise, she found that she could see the gates and the Aisprises who manned them. Excited, she proceeded to scan the entire building only to discover Prisca’s absence. It made sense now, for it was only due to Prisca’s unavailability that she was able to see. Where was Prisca? She focused her attention on the temple, only to find herself blind, as she always was when in mind travel form. Disappointed, she decided to spy on the Helesp one more time before returning back with the forbidden knowledge she had gathered within herself.
At the Helesp, Oracion could see the HN tossing and turning in bed. It seems sleep has also deserted him, she thought with a smile at his discomfort. She looked to the Leades’ room only to discover herself blind once again. Was there someone in there with a spirit, or one who descended from another who bore a spirit? Whoever it was, she needed to find him out fast. It would pay her to catalogue everyone who made her blind so as to dispose of them when the time came. It was only when she was making her last sweep of the Helesp that she saw the female figure as it emerged through a back door and made its way through the shrubs towards the back fence of the Helesp. Excited again at the chance to witness something that promised to be interesting, Oracion focused her vision towards the one who she did not yet know as Loila Even.
Loila Even was on edge. The third day since the botched kidnap of the girls had arrived and she was certain she would be apprehended for questioning. As a result, she had sent her commander, or handler, as she preferred to think of him, an urgent request for a tryst. As she made her way towards the rendezvous point, all she could think of was fleeing the Helesp until further notice. She was not sure how her handler would see the plan, but she had nothing to lose if she attempted to convince him.
She knocked on the door and it swung open instantly. “What about the customary words?” Loila asked in surprise that her handler could be so careless.
“You fool. Didn’t I tell you to lie low?”
“You call my presence in the Helesp lying low?”
“The best place to hide is in plain sight!”
“Not if you are already under suspicion. I mean to flee. Please you have to accede to this request,” begged Loila.
“Where to, if I may ask?”
“I am not sure yet. Perhaps I can abide with another who is faithful to our Cause.”
“And if you are found and the connection is made, our Cause will be compromised before it has even begun.”
Confused but determined, Loila pressed on, “Look. My presence at the Helesp does no one any good. If I flee and I am never caught, there would be no tenable link to any plot by the Icasa. On the other hand, if I stay and I am questioned−−”
“−−there would be no logical reason as to why you would set your colleagues up,” her handler finished the sentence for her and continued. “The only ongoing risk you face is if the missing girl shows up. And even if she does, she has nothing credible that will draw suspicion towards you. Yes you were coordinating on that day. But that does not necessarily mean that you were involved in the attempted kidnap. Besides, it won’t be the first time beautiful women were captured for pleasure by wantons.”
“And would this explain why hired hands were used?” asked Loila.
“Most certainly. Men who indulge in such depravity tend to be rich and powerful. Of course they would not use their men to kidnap the women. Look, there is more than one plausible explanation for the attempted capture. So all you have to do is to feign ignorance. More so, why don’t you approach your leader stating your concern for the girls? Plain sight, remember?”
She nodded in agreement, though her body language betrayed that she was not entirely convinced.
“One more thing you should know,” her handler proceeded, “The Great Cause has been suspended indefinitely as a result of a premonition by the High Priestess.”
“What premonition?” Loila asked.
“I cannot go into the details now. The important thing is, the council is in agreement, all except lord Minua. He is besieged by fear of Kawachi retaliation, so in any case, I suspect that he would rather retreat into hiding. The rest of us will maintain a low profile and wait upon word regarding our next move. It is time for you to return, Loila.”
Loila moved to embrace him, hoping he would cure her body of its lust for the time being. To her dismay however, he pushed her back and said,
“We don’t have time for this Loila. I would not risk being found out. I’m leaving now; I suggest you do the same.”
Without a backward glance, her handler walked away, leaving her mortified. Dejected, she made her way back to the Helesp, taking all the necessary steps to avoid being seen, as usual.
Oracion was intrigued by the encounter. What was this ‘Cause’ they were referring to? Perhaps her father’s plot was not the only one brewing in Lionea after all. She would have to inform him of what she had just witnessed, she concluded.
The chariot came to a final stop to Surita’s relief. Although the distance wasn’t too great, the chariot had made one too many stops to pick up and drop off passengers. Of all the people to board the chariot, only Sido and Surita had remained till the final stop. As Sido had estimated, two hours had elapsed bringing them a few steps closer to Surita’s much desired dawn.
“That was an unexpectedly peaceful first phase of our journey,” Sido said as they alighted. “Let’s hope the next phase is just as peaceful.”
“Indeed,” Surita replied in agreement.
“Come this way.” Sido led her unto the road and they began to make their way towards the dirt path that led to the Main Farm. Upon reaching the head of the road, Surita was surprised to find how lonely and small the path was.
“Call me skeptical, but with a lonely bushy path like this, our hope for a peaceful journey is akin to wishful thinking.”
Sido smiled and replied, “Be optimistic, Surita. Let’s be on our way now.”
Surita took a deep breath and followed him unto the path. They had walked for almost thirty minutes before they heard the sounds.
“Hold on,” Sido whispered as he dragged her aside into the bush. The sounds were of men treading through in what seemed to be a coordinated manner.
“Bandits?” Surita asked in low tones.
“Shhhh,” he cautioned. “Sounds travel faster at night. Let’s just wait this out in silence.”
As they waited, they put on their black cloaks with their faces fully covered in an attempt to better disguise themselves in the dark. Unfortunately, the intensity of the soun
ds increased until it was evident that whoever the people were, at least one of them would cross paths with the pair. Sido thought quickly on his feet as he whispered to Surita. Their best bet was to join the formation of the approaching men in order to avoid being noticed; the major risk being if the men were clad in a color other than black. Sido was thankful as he saw that the first man who finally came across their path was similarly dressed in black.
“This is my path! Why do you two break formation?” the man inquired.
“Unlike you, some of us do not fare so well in the dark,” Sido improvised.
“Fall to my right, not too far away, so you can at least follow my lead. You know as well as I do how difficult it is to take on those Sentors. If you break formation again, we are better off without you. Do you understand?”
Sido perfectly understood the threat. Every man in this squad was dispensable and if he and Surita did not act as required, they would soon be dispatched of. As he turned to obey the man, he noticed with admiration that Surita had already fallen in line. She was a trained operative after all. He also knew that if this squad originally had no woman as a member, Surita’s cover would be discovered sooner or later. If they were heading for the Main Farm with intent to attack the Sentors, it meant these men were robbers and the farm was their target. Would Surita have the wisdom to fight on the winning side when the time came? Would she maintain her cover until the perfect opportunity came to break from the fray and be on their way?
Surita happened to be mulling over what her action would be should these men fight head-on with the Sentors. She was no fool. Chances were high that none of the Sentors at the Farm had ever come in contact with her to recognize her as a Spyinme. Her only hope was to find a way to escape from both the Sentors and the thieves. This dilemma put a significant dent in her hope that the Main Farm would be a safe haven. For whatever the outcome, the farm would eventually be combed as part of investigations into the incident. Their best bet now was to find a way to divert towards the coastline and hide somewhere for at least one more day. Once the heat abated, they could then purchase horses and ride for the Helesp.
As they approached the outskirts of the farm where some Sentors where usually stationed, the forthcoming crew proceeded to a halt with Sido and Surita almost stepping out of line clumsily. Suddenly, arrows struck down four Sentors and the roaring sound of battle erupted. The Sentors who were not killed by the arrows began to gather in a defensive formation as the hostile men ran to enjoin them in battle. Too early to break free unnoticed, the pair had no choice but to proceed accordingly, wondering how on earth they would survive the battle with only hidden knives as weapons.
19
Yosi Sint didn’t see the point in forcing himself to sleep any further. It seemed the events of the past two days were constantly weighing on his subconscious, preventing him from having any long and meaningful sleep. It wasn’t that he hadn’t slept at all, but having only three to four hours of sleep was unlike his usual habit of six hours. Perhaps this was a normal way of life for one who bore the mantle of HN, he concluded as he rose from his bed. Another two and half hours till dawn, he estimated. He decided to practice his usual morning routines while time passed.
During his pretense of a practice session, he realized one disturbing fact: he could not bring himself to attack Prisca. Why? he wondered. Will she turn out to be my bane? Are my feelings for her so strong that they would render me incapacitated against her? Realizing that his thoughts would not come to any decisive conclusion at this time, he decided to focus on something else. He proceeded to his desk and retrieved his writing pad, his seal, and a pen.
The first letter he wrote was to the Head of Ceremonies named Tetey Mars, a man who resided within the residential chambers of the Island Hall. HN Ruki Sen’s funeral was not due until the eighth day since his passing, according to the law. But Yosi thought it wise to officially notify Tetey to enable him to request for all the necessary funds and begin planning the funeral. With the death of the Ishe, Yosi would also need to harmonize plans so as to ensure efficient utilization of resources.
He then wrote condolence letters to Ishe Fiten’s family, notification letters to the Aishes and a preliminary induction letter to the next Ishe, Thorne Rosento. His last and final letter for the morning was a special one to Aishe Foté. In it, he stated his intention to review the request made by the Foté Merchant’s guild to commence an exotic beverages trade with the reclusive nation, Wesoa. He asked that a representative from the guild be sent to him on the evening of the following day with samples of the beverages. He thought it wise to understand exactly what these men intended to import, before giving his approval as the acting Ishe. As he sealed the letter, he wondered what the impact of this act would be on Aishe Thorne. Would he be seen as overstepping boundaries? He wondered. He only hoped that the new Ishe would see the wisdom in this.
Having sorted out the letters, he decided to do some research on something HN Ruki Sen had said on his deathbed about the sword Yosi now wielded. If Sen Rosento had forged it himself in some alien land across the Endless Sea, then it was possible that he had provided some details about it in his journals. With that thought, Yosi walked towards the books on the shelf and retrieved one of the journals that were written within the first thirty years of the first HN’s life. He skimmed through and saw nothing referring to the lands across the Endless Sea. He retrieved a second one which seemed to document the story of how the late HN met his wife. Yosi thought it would make for an interesting read so he decided to mark it for later. On retrieving the third, he came upon the information he sought. Smiling at his success, he opened the journal and read:
Sailing is my life, the sea is my home. Young I may be, but I still remain a man grown, free to make his own choices. At the moment, I am aboard a ship, the only one that will sail further than The Blue Whale. We have no idea where our destination lies. Truth be told, we know not if there is any destination at all. For all who have tried to sail across the Endless Sea have never returned−−it’s a befitting name. Is there a chance that we may not return? Yes. But none of us care, for to die in quest for knowledge is better than to live in ignorance. Farewell to my life, farewell to my home; for I sail to eternity.
Yosi recalled the fables surrounding the man’s sailing prowess. Sen Rosento had truly loved the sea, if what Yosi read now could be believed. He flipped through the pages and saw that the HN had done an excellent job of documenting events on the ship, prior to when the alien lands were found. Curious to discover the origin of the sword, Yosi decided to skip most of the details and read only the parts pertaining to the sword:
What manner of mountains were these? Spewing out foul air and red-hot liquids as if the gods within the earth’s crust were raging against life itself. This land cannot abide life, we would die if we stayed here, one of the men reasoned. I agreed with him, for the atmosphere was truly foul. We had already lost more men than we could imagine. But what the other men didn’t realize was that there was something about the effluent liquids that could prove to be of value. When solidified, they formed a metallic substance that seemed to have superior properties to the metal we currently used to forge weapons. It was not only hard, but also ductile enough to ensure durability. So I convinced the men to stay a while longer, to enable me to make something out of the fluid. It took a full day before the mountains erupted again. With trepidation, I left our shelter and managed to collect some of the molten rock in a ditch. As it cooled, I began to shape it into the finest sword I’ve ever seen. It wasn’t easy and I strongly regret the death of one of our men who succumbed to the toxic fumes. In retrospect, now that we are aboard the ship to return to our homeland, I wish I could have made more swords from the rare substance. What a fine addition it would have been to our military arsenal…
“Interesting,” Yosi said to himself as he considered what he just read. Perhaps if they could somehow squeeze out some resources, an expedition crew should be sent to these alien wa
stelands to manufacture more weapons. He decided he would look into it at a later time. For now, he was content to focus on more pressing matters.
A knife impaled the head of a Sentor who was about to strike Sido. Surita had acted just in time; otherwise her companion would have embraced the goddess. Down to one knife, Surita was relieved as Sido threw the now dead Sentor’s sword at her. It was a little over thirty minutes since the fray began and, so far, they had managed to stay alive.
“Behind you!” Sido screamed.
Surita Stone barely dodged the slash that would have ended her life. Making a quick recovery, she parried the next blow from a relentless Sentor. The blows came raining down, forcing Surita to dodge for dear life. She knew that sooner or later, she would be defeated if she remained on the defensive. Without honor, she kicked a handful of sand towards the Sentor’s eyes, disorienting him for a few counts. That was all she needed as she severed the poor man’s neck with a sweeping slice. Relieved, she glanced towards Sido only to find him cornered by two Sentors. However much it hurt her to kill her comrades as she did, she did not hesitate as she pierced the back of one of the men with her sword, giving Sido the opportunity to launch an offensive strike thus disabling the other Sentor.
Surita wondered what her part in all this would mean if she were to be judged by the law. She had murdered her fellow officers. Whether or not it was as a result of self defense was irrelevant. Her only play would be to plead that it was in the interest of Lionean security. After all, she had a vital clue that pointed to the existence of a possible Nukamchi uprising. A sharp cut on her right shoulder jolted her from her untimely reverie. She tried to swing her sword but the blinding pain that ensued stopped her in her tracks. The Sentor went for the kill, but was stopped by Surita’s last knife which she launched with her left hand. The Sentor dropped dead instantly, leaving her grateful for her ambidexterity when it came to the use of knives.