by Zy J. Rykoa
Chapter Nine
If not to an ideal, to what can one grasp?
January 15, 997 R.E.
General Alkon Zaccarah walked forward on the fort’s wall, his hands pressing firmly onto the metal railing as he looked out over the wilderness. Beyond these few bands of trees were the many mud fields, broken houses and deceased—the fruits of conquest. He had ordered for these trees to remain, to give a glimpse of what it might have been like to live in these parts.
Someday, he thought. When his service to his nation was at an end, he could then find a place such as this, build a home and perhaps raise a family. It was a simple dream, a common desire among his men, but that day would not come for a long time, not while there were those that dared threaten the world still at large.
He shook his head slowly, staring aimlessly ahead. He had come a long way since the early days of the war, when he had just been a boy following his father around the military camps making routine checks and planning new assaults. In those days, the Resistance had not been formed, nor had the Alliance. In the home continent of Phaiross, the nations had been warring for many years with one another, some of the reasons petty, minor disagreements of religious belief and political gain, other reasons more significant, of pollution levels and agricultural rights. It was not until the fall of the great three nations of Phaiross that the smaller nations were able to band together to form as one, and give birth to the Alliance.
For the last decade, this was the only life Alkon had known; always on the road, never able to call a place home for longer than a few months at a time. Since his father was outcast, he had not even had a close friend to confide in. It was a lonely world, but it would only serve to drive him further toward reaching the goals set for him. He would ruthlessly conquer nations in a matter of months, even weeks, knowing that at the end, someday, when there were no more threats, he would be able to return home and live out his dreams.
‘Your desires are not met.’
He was startled by the voice. He had not heard any approach. He turned then to see the man standing behind him.
‘Kobin … how did you get—’
‘Your mind was elsewhere,’ Kobin cut him short. He walked past Alkon to stand on his left before putting his right hand on the railing, his left arm still in the sling. He stood silent a moment, looking out into the wilderness as Alkon had done, then said casually, ‘There is a place for dreaming, you know.’
Alkon hesitated, turning to face forward once more. There were many things he did not understand about this man. What he said seemed harmless enough, but his tone contained bitterness and rebellion. It was almost scolding. ‘Your apparent authority speaks louder than your words, my friend. Your place is not next to mine in these walls. I will have you removed if you continue.’
‘Authority,’ Kobin gave a small chuckle. ‘I know not what you speak of. Perhaps it is a reflection of yourself that you see.’
‘You try your luck. You are not so new to our order, Callibrian, but I will forget this for all that you have given to us.’
Kobin was silent in his stare, as if he had not even heard Alkon’s warning. Alkon waited a moment for a response, but soon turned away when it seemed it would not come. It made him wonder at the unanswered questions he still had about Kobin—why he failed to address superiors in the proper manner, why his tone contained such arrogance and disrespect, how he could live like this, and why he had helped them at all.
At first, much of it had appeared as cultural difference. Now, he was not so sure. There had been countless newcomers to the Alliance, but all had learnt the proper customs in a matter of weeks. This man had taken years and still failed to show any sign of change. He was distant, away in another world, but his words often revealed that he was more than aware of what was around him. Alkon could not decide if what he possessed was a threat or an asset to the Alliance. He had helped in many ways already, but if he were given an army to command, what then? Would he hold as strongly on the battlefield as he did in person? Would he be able to earn enough respect to be able to send men to their potential deaths with his apparent ignorance? The High Council of the Alliance had already shown great interest in him. They seemed to believe him capable, but would anyone else?
‘I do not understand why you would want to be rid of all this,’ said Alkon, nodding to the trees. ‘The land here is beautiful.’
Again there was no response. Kobin’s eyes continued to wander about as if nothing had been said.
Alkon turned to face him. ‘I am sorry to hear of your companion’s fall,’ he said. ‘He was a good man.’
‘You would find no better,’ said Kobin darkly.
‘On that, I do not doubt you. He would have made a fine addition to the Alliance.’
Kobin seemed to have no objection, and both became silent once more. It was only when Alkon moved to walk away that Kobin spoke again.
‘No more could I stand this life,’ he said.
Alkon stopped and turned back slowly. ‘Does it not pain you to see your home in ruin?’ he asked.
‘This was not my home. My home is the future. I wish only to build anew.’
Alkon nodded in understanding. ‘For your service, I will see to it that once we have finished, this land will be given to you.’
Kobin shook his head. ‘If I were an artist, the world would be my canvas. That is why I have joined you and your order. With your help, my dream may be possible.’
‘Your wish is to change the world?’
‘It cannot go on this way.’
‘Ah!’ said Alkon with a smile, clapping Kobin on the back. ‘It is good to see others who share our dream joining with us. You will do well here, my friend. Together, we will create a better place. Come to my quarters later, the High Council has given orders for you to begin private lessons with one of our leading commanders.’
Kobin bowed slightly in gratitude, and Alkon turned to walk away once again. But he had walked no more than five steps when Kobin called out in a hushed tone, ‘Halt!’
Alkon turned quickly in surprise at the order, ready to gently remind him of the proper manner in which to address a superior, but held his tongue when he noticed Kobin looking down over the walls of the fort. Kobin was signalling for Alkon to come forward.
‘What have you seen?’ asked Alkon curiously.
‘Look, there, between the ferns,’ said Kobin, pointing.
‘I don’t see anything.’
‘I saw movement. Someone is down there.’
Kobin quickly walked to the nearest lookout tower and climbed the ladder awkwardly, returning shortly after with a rifle over his shoulder. Without looking at Alkon for assurance, he leaned against the railing and took aim through the sight.
‘A survivor. A boy,’ said Kobin.
‘Shoot to kill,’ ordered Alkon. ‘We have no need for more slaves.’
Kobin gave a slight nod as he increased pressure on the trigger. Alkon watched his movements intensely. He had never seen Kobin kill another man or participate in any battles. He had always been elsewhere, either communicating with the High Council or speaking with his travelling companion. This would be a test of his character, of his loyalty to the Alliance. To kill one of his own people, a teenager at that, would show his commitment.
‘Why do you hesitate? Load and fire,’ said Alkon.
Kobin gave him a look of irritation before turning back to the young man below, lining up the shot.
‘Patience,’ he said.
‘Patience?’ asked Alkon, starting to become enraged. ‘Do it now—that is an order!’
Kobin stood up and placed the rifle carefully against the railing. Alkon’s eyes flared. Kobin had failed the test, and now he stood in defiance of Alkon’s authority.
Kobin raised his right hand with his index finger pointing up, calling for silence. ‘Perhaps it is good that I have such limited use of my left hand, it allowed me time to evaluate this situation properly. Consider an alternative, General. You
r thoughts are too quick to turn to death in present times. The one to be feared is the man that thinks before he strikes, not the man that wields the sword wildly.’
Alkon’s expression turned grim in disbelief. ‘Callibrian, I will not tolerate such insults.’
‘This boy will die without the assistance of his family. He is of no concern to us.’
‘Then make his death quick and painless,’ said Alkon, picking up the rifle and holding it out.
Kobin slowly looked at the gun, then at Alkon, before turning back to the young man below. ‘Our scouts should follow him. He might be able to show us the way.’
‘The way to what?’ asked Alkon, doing his best to contain his anger.
‘There is something in this land for which I have searched a long time. He may be the key to finding it.’
‘And what is it that you seek?’
Kobin took a moment before responding. ‘I seek the Daijuar,’ he said. ‘They have been known to help lost children.’
‘The Daijuar have either perished or gone into hiding. You are wasting your time,’ said Alkon, walking away.
‘A race as powerful as the Daijuar does not perish simply because of an army,’ said Kobin after him.
Alkon turned. ‘Many have faced us, all have fallen. I have seen it with my own eyes.’
‘What you saw was an illusion. You have drugs for mind control, but they have something far, far greater.’
‘What proof do you have?’ asked Alkon.
‘None … of their actual ability,’ said Kobin. ‘If I were able to hold such power, I would have changed the world by now. That is why I must find them. There is still the one that I warned you of here in this land.’
‘You speak of the powerful one.’
Kobin nodded.
‘He has been defeated,’ said Alkon. ‘Kill the boy—that is my final order.’
Kobin laughed. ‘You underestimate him. Of his people, he is the most powerful, but just as they, he knows when he is outmatched. Have the boy followed—it is in your best interests.’
Quickly Alkon turned, any doubt about this man now gone. Alkon’s nostrils and eyes were flaring as he raised his voice. ‘Do not tell me what is in my best interests, Callibrian! I am commander of this unit. Your authority is not next to mine, and I will not tolerate this insolence any further! Do you understand?’
Kobin paused calmly in thought, glancing briefly over the railing to make sure the boy had not woken. ‘Have the boy followed,’ he repeated. ‘I will stake my reputation upon it.’
‘You will stake your life upon it!’ threatened Alkon.
‘If I must. What have you to lose? If we kill the boy, we have nothing. If we let him go—’
‘We have a breach in security!’ interrupted Alkon.
‘Not if he is followed. He will be disposed of before he has a chance to tell his story.’
‘And if he is lost?’
‘Surely your men can handle following a single boy. And if he is followed, we may find where the Daijuar hide, and then, we may even learn of their power. Imagine what that means if you can.’
‘Patronise me any further and I will shoot you where you stand.’
‘I do not know what you are talking about. I am speaking of building an army as powerful as the Daijuar. Surely even you can understand that.’
With lightning speed, Alkon reached behind his cape and withdrew a pistol, firing a single bullet at Kobin’s injured shoulder. In the same moment, Kobin had realised what Alkon was doing and stepped back onto his left foot, but he did not duck or move out of the way, instead, he threw his right hand out as if to block the bullet with flesh alone. Alkon flinched as a blinding light flashed between them and a high-pitched ringing was left in his ears. It took him several seconds to recover enough to look up again. He saw Kobin standing with his right hand lazily down by his waist and his left arm still in the sling. He wore the same relaxed expression as he always wore, and for a moment Alkon questioned whether he had even fired the bullet.
Impossible, he thought, and as if able to read his mind, Kobin spoke.
‘You know not what you are dealing with in this world. The Daijuar are powerful, but I have learned a little of their art. With access to their hideouts, I will master it. I will train an entire army … yours, perhaps.’
Alkon stood up straight, still in disbelief. All he could manage was a small nod as he turned his eyes downward away from Kobin. Suddenly he found it almost impossible to maintain eye contact.
‘Leave this area with only limited security and keep the boy alive. What do you say?’ asked Kobin.
Alkon forced himself to look at Kobin, hatred and anger locking his stare. ‘If your words prove false, you will give your life back to the earth without question.’
‘I understand,’ said Kobin after a moment’s consideration. ‘And if I am right?’
‘Then you are right,’ said Alkon, and quickly he turned away and walked down the ramp, Kobin’s laughter filling his ears from behind him all the way.