Change of Chaos

by Jacinta Jade

  He indicated they should help themselves to the food and drink.

  Siray’s stomach growled loud enough to confirm Honvil’s statement, and she grimaced at the noise, embarrassed. A chuckle came from her left, though, and Siray turned to once again see a smile on Deson’s face.

  It was amazing what a difference it made.

  Allowing a slight smile of her own in response, Siray reached forwards and grabbed some bread, placing meats and fruit on her plate, before she began applying herself to devouring them.

  Deson and Honvil helped themselves in turn, and for a moment, the only sounds were those of hands and mouths working to satisfy the needs of their bodies.

  Honvil, who appeared to need only a small amount to sate his appetite, leaned back in his chair, seemingly happy to wait while Siray and Deson finished their meal.

  When Siray saw he was done, however, she finished eating quickly, keen to hear what the old master had to say.

  Deson finished soon after, and Honvil leaned forwards.

  ‘Now that your most immediate needs have been taken care of, let me address the next.’ He placed his clasped hands on his lap as he surveyed them, speaking so softly that both Deson and Siray had to bend closer to catch his words.

  Undoubtedly anyone passing by outside would not be able to hear anything spoken within.

  ‘I agree that you need to learn a third form as soon as possible. The danger is, perhaps, greater than even you know.’

  Siray’s eyebrows rose in surprise. She had thought that maybe Honvil had overheard her and Deson speaking after they entered the meal tent, but instead it seemed as if he had been present for their entire conversation that morning.

  Deson, his surprise also evident, started to ask, ‘How did you know we were—’

  ‘Ah—more on than later.’ Honvil waved away his question. ‘I cannot keep you for long, so we need to get our preparations in place.’

  Siray’s brow wrinkled, and she shook her head slightly. ‘What do you mean the danger is greater than we know?’

  Honvil took a deep breath, and his gaze shifted to the table for a moment before it came back to rest on her. ‘That will take time to explain and is also best left until later. For now’—and here Honvil leaned forwards again—‘we need to focus on how I can provide you with the advanced training you need.’

  His hands clasped, he rubbed one wrinkled thumb over the other while he thought.

  ‘I think I can arrange it so that, after the group training session in the morning, everyone could split up into small groups for the afternoon session. I’ll call it “focused training”.’

  Siray asked, ‘Will the other trainers question this?’

  Honvil chuckled. ‘Not if they want to retain my services.’ He tilted his head and mused, ‘The key to avoiding suspicion will be in how the groups are arranged. So, what I want to you to do is …’

  Honvil briefly outlined his plan, and Siray and Deson assured him they understood.

  ‘Excellent,’ Honvil said. ‘Then, if everything goes to plan, this afternoon we will be able to continue our discussion, and I can accelerate your training.’

  Honvil leaned back and clasped his hands, a signal that their meeting was over.

  Siray and Deson stood, Deson moving to clear away the tray.

  Honvil waved him off. ‘Deson, stay awhile longer. It won’t be prudent for you both to return at the same time.’

  Deson paused, nodded, and sat down once more.

  Siray took up the tray instead, the rising hairs on the back of her neck making her aware that Honvil’s gaze was still on her as she left the tent.

  Walking away in the direction of the meal tent, she couldn’t help but feel that there was something the master wanted to tell Deson without her there.

  ***

  On the way back across camp to the meal tent, Siray spied Sergeant Bulmer and Gesad walking ahead further in front.

  She tensed for a moment. It would look odd if the sergeant walked into the meal tent before she did.

  She moved the empty tray to under one arm and increased her speed, managing to catch the sergeant and Gesad some paces away from the tent.

  ‘Sergeant?’

  Sergeant Bulmer turned around in surprise. ‘Trainee fourteen. What is it?’

  Gesad, who was standing slightly to the right and behind the sergeant, rolled his eyes. The sergeant always preferred to refer to the trainees by their number rather than names, a practice Gesad obviously disagreed with at this stage of the training.

  Siray rushed to think of something to say. ‘Sergeant, I’ve just been wondering how much longer your division is going to be stationed here? Some of them are really knowledgeable about fight tactics.’

  That did it. Siray saw the slight puffing of the sergeant’s chest as she drew even with the pair. She didn’t stop, though, but slowly kept moving towards the meal tent, hoping her movement would also keep the pair moving with her.

  It did.

  The sergeant shifted to keep her in sight as she kept walking, with Gesad continuing alongside him.

  Perfect, Siray thought to herself. She kept her features carefully feigning interest as they neared the entrance to the meal tent.

  ‘Well, they are a very experienced combat unit,’ replied the sergeant, ‘despite only having been in the field for just under one cycle, so I’m glad to hear you’ve been availing yourself of their experience.’

  The three of them stepped beneath the flap of the meal tent, and Gesad, who was taller than the sergeant, ducked as they entered.

  ‘The unit will be here for some time still, but I’m sure if you ask the members of the unit, they will have their own theories about when we are leaving,’ the sergeant remarked dryly.

  From the corner of her eye, Siray spotted her group at their regular table and saw the motion as a couple of them twisted their heads in her direction.

  ‘Good to know. Thank you, sergeant.’

  Siray promptly left the pair and headed over to her groups table. Before she had encountered the sergeant and Gesad, Siray had thought up several opening lines with which to greet her friends, but it turned out she needn’t have bothered.

  ‘What did he say? Is he okay with Wex training you?’ Kovi almost jumped on her with questions in his eagerness to know how his avenue to intelligence on Genlie had faired.

  Siray smiled at Kovi as she took a seat next to Loce, who appeared to be building a fort with sections of his bread. It was actually quite a good design.

  ‘Relax, Kovi,’ she assured him, ‘he’s okay with it. Our plan is still good.’

  To her amusement, Kovi did visibly relax, and although she felt slightly guilty about making him stress for nothing, Siray assured herself she would make it up to Kovi that afternoon when she trained with Wexner.

  Kovi’s reaction didn’t escape the others’ notice, and they all grinned at each other.

  ‘Lucky you had good news, Siray; otherwise, who knows what Kovi might have done,’ quipped Jorgi from farther down the table.

  They all chucked, causing Kovi to snap out his own dreamy reverie.

  ‘What?’

  This made them all laugh even harder.

  As she looked around the table, Siray saw that they had all finished their meals. Her group only ate lightly in the morning, due to the training they always had afterwards.

  It was never a good idea to stuff yourself before a session that would be presided over by Dirl and Gesad.

  ‘Alright, you lot, get your bodies out into the fresh air and moving! I want a faster time than yesterday’s run to the glade.’

  Trainer Dirl’s voice came so unexpectedly from behind Siray that she actually jumped in her seat.

  The other trainees pushed away from the table to escape their seats and, picking up their plates, proceeded to stack them on the nearby dish trolley before promptly making their way outside.

  There were very few diners in the tent at that early span, as the trainees always
rose at dawn, but those there continued with their breakfasts in a leisurely way that made Siray jealous. She missed the mornings of old where she had once had long or late breakfasts with her cycle group in the city.

  Siray shook the memory away as she walked outside with the others. This was her life now.

  ‘Siray!’

  She turned at the sound of Tamot calling out to her. He was last coming out of the tent, carrying something in his right hand.

  ‘I thought you might be hungry, so I grabbed this for you.’

  He held out a small cloth bag.

  Accepting the bag and openly it curiously to peek inside, Siray saw a small hunk of bread, a piece of cheese, and a purple fruit.

  ‘Thanks, Tamot. I’ll hang on to it and grab a bite once we’re at the glade.’ She smiled at him.

  Tamot, usually so direct and confident, flushed as he mumbled something in reply.

  About to join the others with Tamot, Siray saw Deson emerge from the meal tent, and she hung back as Tamot walked on.

  ‘Well, tomorrow someone else can do the breakfast run for Honvil,’ Deson announced to the group. He was also carrying a soft cloth bag.

  Siray fell into step with Deson when he drew even with her. ‘Falir prepare that for you?’

  Deson nodded. ‘Yep. Seemed to think I might be hungry after missing breakfast,’ he said dryly.

  His eyes darted down to the replica bag she held. ‘You too, huh?’

  Siray shook her head. ‘Tamot,’ she offered quietly as explanation.

  Deson raised an eyebrow at that but didn’t say anything.

  Dirl emerged from the meal tent then, carrying a bag identical to Siray’s and Deson’s.

  It seemed a lot of people were supposedly missing a sit-down breakfast that morning.

  Dirl took one look at the trainees all standing around. ‘Well, what are you all waiting for? Go!’ he roared.

  The group of trainees quickly formed into a condensed group at his order and broke into a jog as they moved through the camp.

  When they had cleared the last of the tents, they began running.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  NOW FAMILIAR with the path to the glade, the group of trainees reached the open space faster than they had the day before.

  It still amazed Siray how rapidly her body had adapted to the physical demands of training and how swiftly it could recover. These days she had little trouble with the foot that had been torn open by the cripwof, and she only retained white scars where the beast’s teeth had pierced her flesh.

  In addition, the injuries from the sparring test had improved, seemingly almost overnight, she reflected.

  Once the trainees reached the clearing, they took it upon themselves to begin agility drills, using a ‘follow the leader’ approach in place of a trainer calling out commands. They would switch leaders every so often, with each trainee leading the group in their preferred exercise, or the one they disliked the least.

  Siray’s favourite was long running jumps, and she set this up for everyone by placing two long sticks on the ground to mark out the space they had to jump over.

  No one liked Rowp’s favourite, which involved pulling yourself up off the ground using a thick overhead tree branch until your chest came level with it, then slowly lowering yourself down again.

  They were on their sixth set of exercises—Kovi’s squat toe touches followed by jumps with a raised extension—when Siray heard the sound of a wagon approaching.

  The trainees finished their exertions with the set as the wagon carrying Sergeant Bulmer, Dirl, Gesad, and Honvil pulled into the clearing.

  From the corner of one eye, Siray watched Dirl jump from his seat as soon as the wagon had rumbled past the trees lining the edge of the clearing. He walked towards them, observing their exertions. Seemingly satisfied that their efforts were up to his standards, he called out to them.

  ‘Cool down, and then arrange yourselves for your session with Master Honvil.’

  The group obeyed the order, walking in small meandering patterns through that part of the clearing to relax their muscles and to find space in which to stretch out their sweat-covered bodies.

  After they had cooled down sufficiently, Siray and the others arranged themselves in a loose semicircle for Honvil, the sun high enough in the sky that it warmed their shoulders pleasantly.

  A light breeze was gladly welcomed as its gentle touch helped cool them.

  Honvil approached to commence the lesson. ‘The more passionate and wild the creature your form takes, the harder it is to maintain control over the form without submitting completely to its instinctive desires. There are cases where some of our kindred have lost control of their second forms, and through that lapse, have let the animal mind take over completely.’

  Honvil paused to let his words register.

  ‘If you lose that control,’ he continued, ‘even for a moment, there is great risk that your mind will be consumed by the animal itself. Those who lose control in this way usually live out their life in that form, never returning to society.’

  A tense silence settled over the trainees.

  ‘Then there are those who lose control but become so confused between the minds of their Kaslonian and animal forms that they lose themselves in an entirely different way.’

  Siray felt the hairs on her arms rise.

  ‘Does anyone know what we call these poor souls?’ Honvil asked.

  Tamot raised his hands. ‘The Lost Ones, master.’

  Siray’s mind flashed back to that wet, rainy night and the thin figure with super strength. Crazed laughter echoed in her mind.

  Honvil nodded at Tamot. ‘That’s right. I raise these instances purposely, as you need to understand the seriousness of what occurs when we undergo the Change, and how a lapse in focus can result in something sometimes worse than death.’

  Honvil regarded all the trainees. ‘What I took you through yesterday was a guided Change. You listened, followed my instructions, and you Changed. Today, you will guide yourselves through the Change, maintaining the same focus you practised yesterday.’

  Honvil tapped his temple.

  ‘Now that you have learned to Change, you must keep your focus every time you Change form. Eventually, the focus and mental process you are learning now will become natural to you, like flexing a muscle, and you will do it without conscious thought. Until then, keep your concentration and do not let your mind wander.’

  The master let a quiet hang over the clearing for a few moments before he continued.

  ‘In a moment, I want you to turn around and face outwards as you did yesterday, and, when I give the word, walk yourself through the same process to Change into your second form. Once you have Changed, remain in your position and do not move, make any unnecessary sounds, or Change back until I give the direction. Understood?’

  A chorus of ‘yes’ ensued.

  ‘Commence the exercise.’

  Siray turned on the spot and closed her eyes, letting the warmth of the sun and its orange light relax her as it danced across the back of her eyelids. Then she focused, concentrating on that centre she had discovered the previous day within herself.

  As she touched that burning coldness, she maintained a greater awareness of her body, and she could feel the Change as it occurred.

  She felt her muscles contract, relax, and ripple, one after the other, as her body shifted, and she knew she had successfully Changed when her sensitive sevonix ears picked up the sounds of bodies rustling and the slight increase in the trainers breathing as they watched the transformations occur before them.

  Siray opened her eyes and once more marvelled at the colours, shapes, and movement she could pick up in this form.

  Some moments later, Honvil spoke again. ‘Without turning around, or looking at any of your fellow trainees, I now want you to Change back.’

  Siray closed her eyes again and focused on that different part of her centre that held her true self—the key to her norm
al form. Her mind burned cold once more as the ripple came, and the heightened senses Siray had had were gone an instant later.

  ‘Now, turn around to face inwards, and we’ll do the same thing again.’

  Siray followed Honvil’s instructions and centred herself, but this time, she kept her eyes open as she Changed. This made it harder to maintain her focus, as she could see the others Changing around her, but she knew this must be a test of sorts, so while she allowed one part of her mind to watch, the rest of her focused again on that centre. She felt her body ripple again even as around her she saw limbs shrink and grow, heads elongate and narrow, and claws, fur, and hooves sprout on her fellow trainees.

  It was a fascinating sight, and a perfect challenge to Siray’s focus, but soon she could once again hear the breaths of others.

  ‘Well done,’ Honvil complimented when the last of them had completed the Change successfully.

  ‘Again,’ he instructed.

  Honvil had them continue to Change between their first and second forms throughout the morning, making them practice the focusing technique and slowly getting them used to multitasking at the same time.

  First, he started walking around looking at them as they Changed.

  Then he began stopping and talking to them. Not asking questions, just talking at them.

  Finally, he actually had Dirl and Gesad practice a little hand-to-hand combat in front of the group while they Changed back and forth.

  That definitely made it harder to focus, because which of them hadn’t wondered who would come out best if Dirl and Gesad ever sparred?

  Siray was relieved when Honvil finally called a halt to the morning session. Her muscles had a strange, deep, ache, almost like the growing pains she had experienced in her youth. But it was the mental exhaustion she felt that made her most grateful for the break and the chance to sink to the ground to rest.

  Before she joined the others, Siray quickly collected the soft bag from the side of the clearing that contained the food Tamot had put together.

  Along with Deson’s bag, there was enough for everyone to have a bit of bread, cheese, and fruit, so they invited the others to share in it.