“I told you to leave me, why have you returned?” the thunderous voice boomed in her mind once more.
I thought I did leave…How did I end up back here? Her thoughts ran wild in her confused mind. Shimmering scarlet eyes gleamed at her. The dragon’s onyx scales reflected the moonlight. He had two black horns just above his small ears that were as thick and as long as her legs. His bared teeth were longer than her hands.
“Get out!” he shouted and then spread his wings wide to summon red flames.
When Brisethi cast her own burst of flames, nothing appeared. She panicked as she suddenly found herself engulfed in the dragon’s flames. Realizing she was no longer under the protection of Roz’s filter shield, she began coughing violently. Roz was nowhere to be found. When the fit subsided, it dawned on her that the smoke and heat was irritating her lungs, not his fire.
When the dragon noticed that his flames didn’t harm her, he opened his jaw wide and lunged forward.
Brisethi woke from the sound of her own voice attempting to scream. She bolted upright, examining herself quickly. As her breathing began to slow, she could see her hands glowing red from the mystics she hadn’t been able to summon in her nightmare. When she looked up at the moons, they had barely moved to the west. She hadn’t even been asleep for an hour.
Chapter XIII
“I don’t understand the constant special treatment she keeps getting,” Corporal Sulica Nin griped as she helped prepare the morning meal of strips of boar meat and fried potatoes. She was peeling potatoes with a knife. It slipped and barely missed cutting her finger. She muttered a curse under her breath.
“Are you talking about Brisethi?” Corporal Korteni Pyraz asked. “I wouldn’t call ‘advanced training’ or ‘intensive training’ as special treatment. She just gets more challenges to test her leadership skills - the same goes with the other two sergeants. If any one of us had stepped up in the beginning, we’d be in their place instead.” Korteni was quick to defend her friend.
Sulica wanted to continue her rant but knew that she would get more grief than empathy from Korteni, Ibrienne, Etyne and even her own loved one, Antuni. Sergeant Antuni Crommick had respected Sen Asel since the beginning. He had told Sulica more than once that she could always befriend the group of recruits who were anti-Sen Asel. Sulica often considered abandoning her current acquaintances to make new ones. She probably would have if she thought Antuni would join her.
“Since we’re on the subject of Sen Asel,” Antuni chimed in, looking at his own friend, “Are you and her more than just combat partners? Just want to, you know, stamp out the rumors if they’re only that.”
Sergeant Etyne Vorsen stopped chewing his food when he realized the group was staring at him. “I’m sorry, what was the question?”
Corporal Ibrienne Sestas giggled. “You heard him, quit feigning ignorance!” Though she had always been interested in Etyne, she could see him settling with someone more confident and strong like her dear friend, Brisethi. She was silently hoping for them.
He swallowed his food and washed it down with a swig of water before answering. “Sergeant Sen Asel and I can barely tolerate one another as combat partners let alone anything more. I will thank you lot to not fuel those rumors. Also, I still have a girl back in Res’Baveth that I will remain faithful to.”
“Marinelle hasn’t replied to your letters for nearly a year,” Antuni pointed out followed by a chuckle. “And you two are definitely good friends by now, stop pretending you hate her.”
“Speaking of mail,” Ibrienne nodded toward Sergeant First Class Vilkinsen walking toward the center of camp with dozens of letters in his hands.
Sergeant Vilkinsen began calling out the names of everyone who had letters, flinging each envelope into the air one at a time. Recruits scurried all around looking for their letters. After the local messenger gathered the outgoing mail, he mounted his horse to ride back to the closest town.
When Etyne’s name was called out, he waited until everyone else gathered their letters before going to retrieve his. Before he was able to stand, Ibrienne suddenly appeared at his side and, smiling kindly, handed him both of his letters. “Thank you, Sestas,” he politely replied.
To his surprise, one of the letters was from Marinelle, his patient lover. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly as he opened the envelope. But when he read her words, he realized she hadn’t exactly responded to anything he had asked or written about. The slight semblance of a smile faded. Her rushed letter was mostly filled with complaining about her family putting her to work in their fabric business. The only happy sentence she wrote was about a new friend at the family shop. Etyne’s heart had reluctantly skipped a beat and his face flushed when she didn’t write “I love you” in the end as she usually did. He convinced himself that Marinelle had probably been rushed now that she was busy working.
The small circle of companions were silent while they read their letters from home. The men struggled to hold back tears when reading their mothers’ letters while Korteni let hers flow. Sulica, having received the first letter her father had cared to write, stifled a sob. Antuni heard her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, not looking away from the paper he held. Something about a mother’s tender words and a father’s encouraging quote could break even the strongest soldiers.
“Brisethi, welcome back! Here, I grabbed your letter for you,” Ibrienne smiled, handing her an envelope.
Brisethi stared blankly, still recovering from her restless night and early morning’s ride back to camp. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Thank you, Ibrienne,” she said and took the letter from her.
“How did your training go? You look miserable,” Antuni jested. “Did the acolyte throw you off the mountain?”
“I feel miserable, thank you.” She ignored Antuni’s questions. Instead, she grabbed one of the meats from the pan in the pit and took the only available seat on the bench next to Etyne. Both her mother and father had each written a letter, sent in the same envelope. She took each word to heart. Tears welled in her eyes from her mother’s loneliness, but it was her father’s sad and kind words of missing his little girl that made the tears run down her face. “A year and a half to go,” she muttered, wiping her face with her sleeve.
Ibrienne had received a few letters throughout the expedition, usually from friends she grew up with in the orphanage and sometimes from one of the children she had looked after while working there before enlisting. The envelope she held, however, was stamped with the red marking of the Citadel. Confused, she opened it and began reading.
We regret to inform you…
Her eyes quickly scanned the rest of the letter. “No,” she whispered. “It can’t…” The note fell to the ground as she buried her face in her hands.
Korteni looked up, shocked to see her normally cheerful companion so distraught. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice full of concern.
Ibrienne broke out crying and headed off in the direction of the girls’ tent.
Amazed, the others stood around, trying to figure out what had happened. Finally, Etyne picked up the dropped letter and read aloud its contents. Wordlessly, the other three girls moved as one to find their friend, leaving the men behind.
“Did you know she was…” Antuni broke off.
“An orphan?” Etyne finished. “No, I don’t think she’s ever mentioned it.”
“Ibrienne,” Brisethi called out as they approached the tent. Korteni looked inside, but it was empty. “We need to find her,” Brisethi said. “She can’t be left alone right now.”
Sulica closed her eyes momentarily, trying to reach out with her mystic. “I think I found her,” she told the others.
They followed her past the edge of the camp, across the clearing, to just inside the line of trees at the beginning of the marsh. There, they found Ibrienne sitting on a fallen tree, her light brown hair disheveled as though she’d been pulling at it. Cautiously, the three girls approached her, like the
y would an injured animal. When Ibrienne didn’t bolt, Brisethi and Sulica sat on either side of her while Korteni moved to the back of the log.
Sulica, mimicking Antuni’s earlier reaction to her own sadness, put her arm around Ibrienne’s shoulders. Brisethi grabbed her hand, and Korteni carefully began working on Ibrienne’s hair.
A couple of minutes passed before Ibrienne spoke. Her voice cracked with the words. “They’re all gone,” she said hoarsely. “The only home, the only family…” she trailed off.
“We are all so sorry,” Brisethi told her, knowing the words were pitiful.
Ibrienne suddenly glared at her. “Fire,” was all she said. She immediately broke down again and apologized profusely. “I know you had nothing to do with it,” she cried. “I just-”
“I know, it’s ok,” Brisethi said, patting her back. It was a painful reminder of why her own mother resented her fire mystics.
When Ibrienne had calmed down again, Korteni leaned in and hugged them all.
“What was that for?” Ibrienne hiccuped.
“It’s awful circumstances, of course, but I’m so glad that we’re all together and no one is arguing for once!” Korteni said happily.
All four of the girls laughed a little and headed back to camp. Etyne and Antuni were waiting near their tent.
“We took care of the clean-up,” Etyne said when they were within earshot.
Antuni handed a pouch to Ibrienne. “Here, it’s not much, but, you know.”
She opened it to find an assortment of perfectly ripe berries, a rare treasure. “Thank you,” she said, looking around at them all with a smile. “I lost one family, but I feel like I’ve gained another.”
-:- -:- -:-
Learning to summon their Spirit’s Mystics was, by far, the easiest six months of their Dominion Training. The recruits weren’t yelled at as often by the disciples and even the physical training from Sergeant Vilkinsen became more about teamwork and coordination during their favored sport of Chel’kan.
When playing Chel’kan, the division was split into two teams - one wearing two red banners at their waist, the other wearing blue. The ball, made of padded leather and sand for added weight, was tossed to members of their own team from one end of the field to the other. Each time the ball was caught, that person was allowed to only take two steps before handing it off or throwing it to their teammate. The opposing team was encouraged to block or intercept the ball and if the ball was dropped, the opposing team would retrieve the ball in an effort to take it back to their end. The game consisted of continuous sprints as the ball was constantly tossed from player to player. The physical exercise, coordination, and teamwork made it an excellent game for a division to take part in it during their training. It also served to boost morale, particularly during the annual games held in Res’Baveth when the forty permanent divisions and squadrons across all of Sariadne and its fleets competed against one another.
“Don’t throw that shit at me!” Brisethi shouted when Antuni tossed the ball at her. She deflected it with her elbow instead of attempting to catch it.
“I bet if the ball was a sack of candies you’d catch it,” Antuni teased.
“Nah, Bearsethi would catch it if it were a honeycomb!” Etyne said, laughing at her failure in team sports. Because of her inability to catch, the other team took advantage of the opportunity and scored.
“Over here!” Ibrienne shouted to Etyne, who was also on his team. She caught the ball with ease and quickly threw it surprisingly far down the makeshift field to their teammate, Korteni, who barely managed to catch it while taking a fall. Ibrienne thoroughly enjoyed the sport and was even better than most of the men on both teams.
As Korteni threw the ball, it was intercepted by the opposing team before reaching its intended target, Sulica. She was just as bad as Brisethi at team sports and was grateful that she didn’t have to suffer the humiliation of failing to catch the ball.
Both teams sprinted to the other end of the field. When the recruit that Brisethi was supposed to be guarding was about to catch the ball, she screeched at him to distract him and, to her surprise, it worked. It fell just to the right of him, where Brisethi waited to scoop it up. She scanned each of her teammates in their blue bannered belts, but each of them had a red-bannered team member trying to hinder them.
“Sen Asel-Sen Asel! SEN ASEL!” Sergeant Vilkinsen mockingly shouted her name continuously when he sprinted past her with one of the red team members on his heels, trying to encourage her to pass the ball to him. When he was just out of her range, knowing she wouldn’t be able to throw the ball that far, he shouted her name again if only to frustrate her.
One of the red team members started to run at her in an attempt to tackle her and strip the ball from her. Panicked, she flung the ball as high and far as she could until Antuni broke through the two-man guard on him and jumped up to catch the ball, pulling it securely down to his chest. He took his two steps and swiftly threw it halfway down the field to Etyne for the score. The two childhood friends had always been attuned to the sport when playing it in the streets with the other kids of lower-income families.
“There she is, our most valued player,” Antuni teased Brisethi when she limped up to the group after the game had concluded.
“If it weren’t for me giving the other team scores, the game wouldn’t be very challenging,” she played along with him.
“If you were on the other team we’d all be deaf from your constant screaming at us. You’re like one of those harpy bats up in the cliffs, screeching at anyone,” Antuni then wailed to imitate her.
-:- -:- -:-
Even though Brisethi Sen Asel had mastered her skill of summoning flames and lava, Roz continually tested her on any other mystics that her spirit might have been hiding from her. He referenced a logbook of every Resarian in the division stating the mystics they were born with. Each Resarian was born with a specific spirit with the potential to summon powerful mystics. It was up to each acolyte to train the soldiers how to summon their mystics if their parents were unable to succeed.
“How did your father teach you to summon fire if he’s a water mystic?” Roz interrogated her.
“Uh, he’s persistent? Tenacious? Probably paid someone off to teach him?” Brisethi guessed.
“I’m going to guess that he pulled some strings to have an acolyte nearby when your father ‘trained you’ to summon them. Many high ranking officers like to abuse their powers for their offspring,” Roz assumed.
“Are you going to turn him in?” Brisethi voice unintentionally dropped to a threatening manner.
“No, but I will seek out this acolyte and acquire my share of his frakshins,” Roz smirked.
“Why do I instantly regenerate, enabling me to summon every spell over and over?” she asked a few days later, searching for an excuse to take a break but also eager for the answer.
“Some spirits are just faster at regenerating than others,” Roz nonchalantly replied. “Now do it again.”
Roz pulled the five most powerful spirits of the division and taught them a life-saving mystic that was never to be taken lightly. He instructed them to only use it in the most dire of situations. Only those five, including Brisethi, Etyne Vorsen and Ibrienne Sestas, were shown how to perform the ancient mystic that, Roz had warned, very few spirits could survive. The sacrificial, honorable skill was known simply as Soul Reclamation.
During Ibrienne’s intensive training, her healing abilities enhanced drastically, to include saving a failing heart or any organ, purifying infections, stopping inner hemorrhaging, and clearing air passages if they weren’t breathing. “Hey ‘Sethi, if you fall into cardiac arrest during your panic attacks, I can stop it and get it back to normal!” she laughed.
Sulica Nin was extremely disappointed to discover that she had the ability to only enhance the spells of other spirits and hasten regeneration rates of powerful mystics of others, but not to cast anything particular at an enemy. Hers was a support spi
rit that would only ever be used to partner up in battle with someone who possessed a destructive power. “I would have been better off paying a thousand frakshins to an acolyte to learn of my mystic in two weeks instead of spending four years as a Dominion slave,” she complained.
Acolyte Roz remained silent at her frustration. Before his departure, he had been informed of Sulica Nin’s disturbing mystic from Prelate Li’lii. It was within the acolyte’s sworn duty to never reveal to Sulica the full extent of her unsettling, powerful mystic.
Korteni Pyraz had attuned to the mystic of water summoning. She could create clouds to bring about rainfall, or manipulate the sea around her, calming rough waters or causing them. She was even able to turn the water into ice. “Well, this influences my decision to re-enlist as a sailor, instead of a soldier,” she told Brisethi.
“Oh gross, you want to live on a ship?” she asked her friend, already dreading their final year to come out at sea.
Antuni Crommik’s spirit was of a rare dark mystic. “It’s because I’m black, isn’t it?” he asked the acolyte upon the revelation.
“Spirits do not recognize skin color, Antuni,” Roz sighed.
Despite his rare dark skin, people like Antuni were the race of Resarian, or whichever nation they were born into. During the ancient eons in the beginning of time, the world of Falajen had been separated by skin color or eye shape. As humans became seafaring, races became nations, settling amongst one another in these continents and adapting to one another’s cultures and faiths.
Antuni tested his mystic. He was able to transform himself into a mere shadow, obliterating nearby objects, but at a high cost. His spirit’s mystic required a high amount of reserved energy to cast, and he didn’t replenish his power within a few days like the average Resarian. It would instead take him weeks. He would benefit the most from Sulica’s ability to speed up his regeneration rate.
Spirits of Falajen Page 13