It feels good to be recognized for once. I take a moment to savor this moment.
“Let’s go ahead and kill it,” Raphael says. “I’m tired of all this running. I can’t wait to get back to the great halls to celebrate.”
I nod and unsheathe my sword, lifting it into the air.
“No,” Auro steps in front of me. “Let’s not shed innocent blood today.”
“What?” I ask. “Have you lost your mind? We aren’t here for a scenic stroll through the woods. This is a hunting trip. The whole point is to bring the beast’s head back to the captains.”
“And they will have his head.” Auro laughs. “Along with the whole living creature.”
It takes a moment for what Auro says to sink in.
The idea of capturing the creature and sparing its life shares that underlying rebellion that I crave. Yet at the same time, it accomplishes my goal of earning us the stone.
“Well said,” I say.
Auro might just be a breath of fresh air.
A shaking of branches interrupts my thoughts.
“We were bloody onto the creature already,” a voice says. “So don’t expect to be taking him easy.”
“Back off Uriel,” Christine says. “We found it first.”
“It’s not over till the head is returned to the captain,” Baal says. His short stubby nose snorts as he speaks, twisting one of the tattoos on his lips into a shape resembling a mustache. It creates only a slight distraction from his gurgling voice which sounds as if he speaks while submerged in water. “We will claim the beast now.”
“Yes.” Apophos laughs. “Ours it is.”
They mean to take the creature by force, but I cannot allow it.
“Protect what is ours,” I say.
To my surprise, almost all of the recruits do exactly as I order without question. All but Raphael who stands completely still, paralyzed with fear.
“Give them the beast,” Raphael shouts. “It’s not worth it.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Christine says. “Somebody please shut him up.”
“I’d be glad too,” Uriel says.
Sal’s training has been so light and soft. I suspect that most of Sal’s forces are probably still too averse to pain to actually engage our soldiers. Some have never been in an altercation.
Having been brutalized by the Frosted’s sadistic leadership, my troops find pain to be almost second nature. It’s a risk but despite the huge size advantage of Sal’s warriors, I choose to have faith in my own team.
“Prepare for a fight,” I say. “Stand your ground.”
“Are you serious?” Auro says. “This is a hunt, not a battle.”
“After all that training,” I say. “Now is the time to put it to good use.”
“You wont get this beast.” Christine glares at Uriel. “Without going through us.”
Christine’s clipped wings spread out behind her as she nervously unsheathes her sword. They beat against the air as she steps forward.
Sal’s team stands in a line before us. They don’t move.
“Are you just going to spend all day looking at us,” I say. “Or are you cowards all paws and no claws?”
“You little,” Uriel shouts. “We aren’t scared of you.”
“That’s right,” Apophos shouts. “Not. Scared.”
I fake a laugh.
“They laugh at us!” Apophos shouts. “Charge them!”
Christine draws her sword and slashes it in the air.
Auro and the others let out a blood-curdling shout. My beast roars as well, though he continues to use his weight to pin the beast. The sound is so loud, it actually strikes a tinge of fear in me as well.
Uriel swings his sword at Auro who stops the force of the blow with his broadsword. The blade becomes embedded in the tree bark beside him. To Uriel’s dismay, he can’t dislodge the weapon from the wood.
Uriel mumbles and curses at the ordeal. He calls out to his teammates for help, only to realize that Apophos, the lone soldier willing to step forward and battle alongside him, is overwhelmed by the rest of my team ganging up on him.
The remaining of Uriel’s teammates just stare at the altercation, their eyes as wide as Raphael’s open mouth.
“Baal, you blustering coward,” Uriel shouts finally dislodging his sword. “We can’t take on their whole team on our own.”
Baal doesn’t respond.
I seize upon the moment.
I reach down and grab the large creature from underneath my breed. It kicks and protests my grip. It claws at my chest and tears a large swath of skin from my arm.
The pain torments me, but I don’t let go. Instead, I run away from the altercation, carrying the beast. I feel amazed by my own strength. This gigantic creature no more weighs me down than if I were carrying nothing at all.
“The creature!” Apophos shouts. “He’s taking it.”
“Really, genius?” Uriel says.
I turn toward the north. My breed leaps beside me, growling and snarling at the creature in my arms.
The others on my team notice my exit, but they stand behind me like a barrier, battling fiercely.
Uriel and Apophos use their brute strength to break through the lines. Christine falls onto her back. Auro pants, exhausted, leaning forward with his arms pressed against his knees.
But their delay was long enough.
The Courtyard comes into view. I need only run through the entrance of the barracks and lay the creature before the captains.
Uriel, Apophos, and now even Baal, aren’t far behind.
I reach the barracks.
I strain for breath.
I grab the handle and push open the door.
The beast withdraws from my grip just as Apophos comes up beside me. I can barely see past his massive frame as I reach forward.
My breed pounces on the creature and bites its neck. My breed swings its head, throwing the wounded creature into the open door of the barracks tent.
The Frosted looks at me and smiles with approval.
I suddenly feel a sense of regret for working so hard. Have I given him some honor by winning this battle?
I look over at Sal. He spits.
“Well done,” the Frosted says.
No compliment has ever angered me more.
Uriel looks up at me with contempt. I ignore him.
“To the Courtyard,” Sal says.
Ceremonials enter the tent as we exit. They attempt to wrestle the injured creature back into its cage, but the beast fights their attempts. The Ceremonials screech in pain.
Auro walks over to the Ceremonials with the sheet from one of the torn bean bags in hand. He kneels down beside the animal.
“Leave the beast to me. I will remove him.”
The Ceremonials put up no argument and quickly leave the tent.
We take our lines, divided by team in the center of the Courtyard. My arms still sting from the scrapes of the beast. My breed pants satisfied while the rest of my team beam smiles.
Uriel looks as though he himself had been ripped apart by my breed. His skin is splotched with scratches, clearly from the trees and bushes. I cringe to think how I look.
“To my team,” the Frosted declares “You have performed above and beyond any and all of our expectations.”
My team claps excitedly. They are proud of their victory.
I stand stoic. I am interested in only one thing.
“My team disappoints,” Sal says. “Take your vote on your weakest teammate.”
They vote and declare one of their own, Zoroaster. Perhaps it is a wise choice as I have never seen him during the entire episode. Come to think of it, I don’t even think we’ve met.
“Zoroaster,” Sal declares. “Your rations shall be cut in half for a week.”
“Now to the victors,” the Frosted declares. “First, even the winners must choose their fruitless limb so that it can be pruned.”
Christine does not waste a moment. “Rap
hael.”
I stay silent, but the remainder of the team practically leaps in agreement.
Raphael tries to protest, positing various reasons that the game was rigged and why he would do better in a future engagement. They will have nothing of it. They vote him the weakest member of the team while I remain silent.
“Very well, Raphael,” the Frosted says. “War is no game. You will be sentenced to spend the rest of eternity in the dungeons of the Prince.”
Raphael’s fat body falls back onto the hard stone of the Courtyard grounds.
We all look at each other with wide eyes.
“But,” Christine says, “their weakest link only received half rations!”
“The rules were clear.” The Frosted gloats. “The weakest will receive whatever punishment their captain deems fitting.”
Even Sal drops open his mouth before mustering his words. “Surely, you are going overboard.”
“He gave away their position. He slowed them down. A performance like this on the battlefield could have cost an entire army their lives.”
I clench my fists. I should kill him now. What holds me back? Sure, Raphael is insufferable and useless but this is a clear abuse of power.
Auro returns with the creature now in the cage. He looks at Raphael who now buries his face in his hands crying and comments. “I suspect some unfortunate event has occurred.”
“Raph’s been imprisoned for all eternity,” Christine says. “For being the weakest among us. So yeah you could say that.”
Two Ceremonials lift Raphael up and drag him toward the Temple.
“Now,” the Frosted says. “Choose your leader. Select your most valuable and be careful about it for he will command authority over you. He will attain the third of the four stones and will be outside of the authority of either Captain Salidryl or myself.”
I don’t want to do what I am about to do. Raphael is an absolute waste of an angel. He is cruel and incompetent. And I nearly have the stone in my grasp.
But inside, I know what I must do.
“I vote for Raphael,” I say.
“What?” Christine says. “If you are just being modest, you take it too far.”
“He isn’t being modest. He is being merciful.” Auro pats me on the shoulder. He means it as an act of kindness but it disturbs the already torn skin. “I too vote for Raphael.”
The Frosted catches onto what is happening. He glares at me but it’s too late. The whole team votes in agreement.
Within moments, the guards release Captain Raphael the new keeper of the third stone.
Chapter Sixteen
The Forger
RAPHAEL SNATCHES THE CHAIN bearing the glowing crystal out of Sal’s hand and drops it around his neck in one quick motion. He giggles, raises his hands, and appears to accept the applause that exists only in his mind.
Eye rolls and sighs manifest throughout the large dining hall, while Christine joins the chorus of passive dissent. The small vein on her neck pulsates so forcefully that it looks as though it might burst.
"Anyone else feel a deep, burning regret right now?" Auro says.
Christine nods. “Yes, this is just so wrong.”
Uriel spoons greens onto his plate. "I feel bad for the recruits assigned to him."
"Anything’s better," I say, "than serving under the sadist who led us before."
“You have to admit the Frosted made quite a force out of you,” Uriel says. “Maybe he isn’t such a bad captain after all.”
“Who cares?” I say. “All that work only brought more honor to the Rogue. Uriel, I almost wish I would have let you win.”
Uriel spits his food onto the table. “Couldn’t you have come to that realization before all those insane stunts you just pulled?”
“You were pretty incredible,” Christine says. “You are a natural leader.”
“Yeah and stop beating yourself up about it.” Uriel says. "The Frosted was handpicked by the Prince. He's no more a Rogue than you or I."
“He’s not one of us,” I say. “I don’t know how he got past the eyes of the Prince, but I intend to prove it.”
“You’re just jealous,” Uriel says. “He knows how to play politics better than you.”
Christine drops her fork. "Shouldn't you be off with your clan?"
“It will change again, anyway,” Uriel says with a mouthful of white manna. “Who knows, love; maybe you’ll make it onto team Raph. I know he has a particular fondness for your wings.”
Auro scratches his head. “This duo is a case study in the unexplainable. How is it possible for two such opposing personality types to be bound so inextricably as parallels?”
“And how are we supposed to know what that means?” Uriel says.
A hand grabs my shoulder. Sal hushes me and tells me to follow him.
I stand up from the table as they continue to banter. We sneak toward the back of the dining hall as Raphael continues another longwinded, self-praise. I look back and confirm that nobody sees my absence. I guide the door to a close so that it shuts softly and does not attract attention from the other recruits.
We stand alone in the outer chamber but Sal still whispers. “That was quite a stunt you just pulled.”
“I didn’t have any other choice,” I say. “But what do you care? You didn’t even choose me for your team.”
“I was being strategic,” he says. “I never thought he would take you. I thought I could gather you up some quality teammates and take you last.”
“That sounds like nonsense to me.”
“Look, there’s only one stone left. That means you now have a two-thirds chance of serving the rest of your time under one of them for all eternity.”
“I know how deep this ocean is.”
Sal squeezes his forehead with his hands. “Listen to me, the next team selections will be voluntary.”
“I don’t understand,” I say.
“The recruits choose their clan.”
“That’s great!” Relief floods me. “I can return to your team.”
“No,” Sal says. “You need to join Raphael’s team.”
“You don’t want me?”
“No, that’s not it,” he says. “The captains vote on the final recipient of the stone.”
“I will never earn that Rogue’s vote,” I say. “I have to earn Raphael’s.”
“Exactly.”
“I saved his life,” I say. “He already owes me”
“We forget those who helped us when they are no longer useful.”
“You stayed faithful,” I say. “You remained my friend through it all.”
“Throughout eternity,” he says. “I was there on that horrible day. I saw your pain and it will forever mark my life as it did yours. She truly stood out among the stars.”
Sal’s words hit me like cinderblocks. I have become so engaged in the day to day conflicts that I have managed to block out much of the pain, hurt, and loneliness. Remembering her brings it all back. I can see her eyes, growing wide, begging that I let her die in peace.
His eyes look down at the ground avoiding my glance.
I grab him by the arm. “Thank you for your friendship.”
He embraces me. He then pushes me back and grabs my arms forcefully.
“Please do what I say,” he says. “You can’t count on the past to guarantee your future. Raphael acts on appetite. He is always indulging the moment. You must make choosing you feel satisfying.”
I nod.
“Very good.” Sal walks back into the main chamber. He turns back to whisper one last word of advice before the door closes. “Do whatever he says. Make him want you to be captain.”
I step out the stone doors at the Temple’s exit and enter the Courtyard where the cool air greets me. The breeze blows along my outstretched wings. They ache as the feathers stretch and grow back.
Clouds swirl, concealing the colors of the Aurora in the night sky. Every now and then a blue or pink streak peeks out from behind t
he grey. I leave them to dance in my periphery. I try to block out the memories of the last time Terra and I watched their flutters.
I kneel down and untether my breed.
"Don't look at me like that. I tried to be quick."
I drop a piece of manna I scrounged from the table. His teeth shred the fibers.
A subtle, red light shines at the end of the street that runs perpendicular to where I stand. It flickers like a campfire that has just begun to burn. What is that? I allow myself to give in to curiosity and I tread up the stone pathway.
Clank. Clonk. Clank. The rhythmic beats echo off the stone walkway. The sounds grow louder as I walk toward the scent of sulfur that drifts in and out of the haze. Their echoes remind me of my confrontation back in the Oasis. I can still see the face of the Rogue with the crisscross scar. His sick, arrogant smile seared into my memory.
"It's just such a tragedy," a masculine voice says.
I continue my approach toward a dark figure who stands in front of the intermittent glow. His broad shoulders cast what looks like an unending shadow on the road below. He swings a hammer at the orange and black glowing orb, flattening it with each pound.
He pours a pitcher of fluid on the sword, letting out a simmer and a puff of steam.
A second, smaller female silhouette walks into view.
The smaller figure is by no means weak. Muscles bulge from her arms leaving what looks like long peaks and valleys across her skin.
She stokes the fire. "Did you know any of the dead?"
"Not well," he says. "Just a mineral farmer. He used to supply me with platinum. He was a generous type. Never could say no to a bloody gift."
"Rogues." She spits. "I dream of the day one of the swords I craft pierces the heart of one of those rebellious scoundrels."
"But that's the jolly point isn't it?" The crafter ceases his pounding. His voice drops to a whisper. "You know the rumors."
"They are just rumors."
"But they explain everything," he says.
She leans in to whisper. Her jet black hair looks like pluming smoke as it lingers just above the burning forge.
I listen closely, but I can barely hear what she says.
"There is a traitor in their camp, one who can’t be trusted. They say he schemes against order and the Origin.”
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