It was then that she “day-dreamed.”
Of a life greater than the one she had been dealt. She heard the worries of her parents all too clear—that she would never travel, never be useful, and never be a warrior. But she just didn’t believe it. She felt it deep down in her brittle bones…she was destined for greatness.
Now…
If only she could do more than fight with a measly little eidolon—her soul in sword form.
Then she would be getting somewhere.
Her friend didn’t know it. But she was able to fashion a blade just like the Sages of Legend. A blade created from her very soul. It had not been an easy process, and it was actually a mistake the first time it happened.
She had been running away from him again, through the woods with nothing but her blanket to shield her from the unforgiving bite of winter. She had run with abandonment, and somehow she was expanding the distance between her and the pursuer. To the point that she could no longer hear his footsteps. She stopped to catch her breath, and that was when she heard something.
It had only been a clump of snow falling from the branches above, but the break in the silence nearly made her jump out of her skin. She placed a hand over her chest to calm her beating heart, as loud as a drum snare, and then she felt the hilt.
It was just sticking out of her chest. Looking like it was made of brown leather and intertwined with strips of red cloth, she stared down at it as if it had been there the entire time. She wrapped a fragile hand around the hilt and gripped it tight.
She wasn’t sure if the eidolon would be strong enough, but she wasn’t about to pass up on any opportunity to get stronger either.
She pulled at the hilt and the blade came out like it was sheathed in paper. She held it above her head and examined it. It was a dark purple Falchion, almost resembling a machete in design. It hummed when she turned it over to the side, and a smile escaped her lips. But then the grin faded as quickly as it appeared.
She had listened to the stories of the Sages well, and therefore she knew that this sudden and unexpected gift of having an eidolon shouldn’t warrant too much joy. According to her people, one became a Sage when they were able to take their soul and will it into the shape of a blade. A blade that could be used as a literal weapon.
But she didn’t feel much different, and actually, she was beginning to shake uncontrollably from the cold. The eidolon did nothing but hang from her fingers like an ornament. It gave off no heat she could use, nor did it make her feel any safer should her pursuer arrive.
It was useless.
Remi sucked her teeth and mentally willed for the eidolon to disappear. It vanished in an instant and she hugged herself as her teeth chattered. The rest of the knowledge she had on eidolons came flooding through her mind—like how if someone stronger than her happened to break it, she might be killed. After all, it was an extension of one’s soul.
And she was already dying. So why add one more way to get killed to the list?
She didn’t feel any different, and therefore she knew immediately that she was no Sage. And if that was the criteria for becoming a Sage, then that meant the Sages of Legend were just as weak as she. And that just saddened her even more.
For she had spent many hours thinking about the Sages, and how she wished one would come and whisk her away from her horrible life, making her into one of them. She envisioned them having the ability to heal her ailments and defend her honor and all the fancy notions that girls like her dreamed of when they were young and naïve. She had grown up a lot since those days, and reality was a relentless teacher that didn’t discriminate. Finding an eidolon in her hand didn’t change anything in her life.
It just added to the sorrow.
Sages of Legend…who cared about them?
She heard shouting when she got close to her hometown, but she had no reason to worry. They lived on the edge of Cimmerian after all. Not that there were people suffering at all hours of the day, just that there was always conflict. Whether it was over something stolen or the fact that a person didn’t like another’s face, her people were the type to pick a fight solely because they needed something to do. It was funny really. They associated themselves with Cimmerians, but they never had the guts to go into their homeland unless it was a raid—to procure some food and supplies so they wouldn’t starve to death.
She was sure that her health also had to do with the horrible rationing her people did. They would gorge and fill their bellies until they were at their limits and then they would complain the next day when no more food was found. It was an endless cycle. Raid. Eat. Raid.
This was the lives of all she knew. Anything to the contrary was considered foolishness.
But since she was unable to participate in the raids, and there were times in which she couldn’t keep the food down, what was her purpose exactly? It seemed like a question her parents asked themselves whenever they thought about their daughter. Why was she there? She couldn’t work or clean that well—nothing they couldn’t do themselves in a third of the time. They couldn’t trade her for anything valuable. She was only friends with that Olivia girl and Olivia was just as useless in her own way. How could such an able-bodied person be so ineffective in raids?
They never said it, but Remi was sure her parents loathed the day she was born.
Remi looked up wearily as she saw Olivia running back to her. She looked further ahead and noticed that the town wasn’t on fire. That was a good sign. Nothing too serious could be happening.
“What is it?” Remi asked as her friend stopped in front of her.
“Your parents are back with the rest of the raid.”
“Already?” Remi said in surprise. A raid usually lasted days. A day to plan, a day to infiltrate, and a day to make sure there wasn’t anyone chasing them. Though Cimmerians rarely left their world, there was a commonly held belief that if they ever discovered where the thieves lived, they would have the entire town executed.
“I know! I don’t think they were successful.”
Remi couldn’t wrap her head around the thought. “But why?”
“They might have come against some trouble. Everyone is calling for a town meeting.”
Remi scoffed. “When was the last time one of those were called?”
“Not since I’ve been born,” Olivia admitted. “I don’t know what this means.”
“But you have to admit,” Remi grinned. “It’s a little exciting.”
“Ha. You would think so,” Olivia laughed. “Maybe we’ll all hold hands and sing songs of great warriors and fantastic adventures.”
Remi continued walking back to town and Olivia stepped in line next to her. “All I’m saying is that we could probably accomplish a lot more if we weren’t trying to kill each other all the time. This was bound to happen—an unsuccessful raid. How long did they think it was going to last before the Cimmerians got sick of having their stuff taken? Do you know if anyone was killed?” she said suddenly, dropping her voice to a whisper.
“No, no,” Olivia said suddenly. “That would be terrible.”
“I guess depending on whom,” Remi muttered under her breath. Olivia pushed slightly to the side.
“That’s not funny!” Olivia half-chuckled and half-shouted. “No matter how despicable someone is, we need everyone to make the raids go well.”
“See what I mean?” Remi said, tapping her forehead. “We need each other.” Olivia’s face fell as and she pursed her lips as her eyes narrowed.
“I hate it when you flip stuff on me like that. Okay, okay, I agree with you. Kind of. We could be a little more productive if everyone would just shut up for once. I mean, the roof in my house has been leaking for months. I’m sure the town could use some fixing up. But what you’re talking about is never going to happen. We’re not going to all of a sudden go somewhere and start anew. We’re not going to join Paragon’s army or whatever it is you want us to do. We have a way of life here that works. No one’s going to deviat
e from that.”
“Then no one can complain when the raids stop working.”
“You know, you talk a big game, but it’s not like you’re going somewhere. And you know why? Because you’re scared. You know you can’t do by yourself what we do as a collective. They may be gross and fight each other and neglect their homes and families, but they are still our people, and you still get fed. You have no right to complain either, or you should just leave already.”
“Yeah,” Remi whispered, nodding her head. “You’re right.”
“What?” Olivia asked in shock. “What did you just say?”
“REMI!” someone shouted from the center of town. Olivia whined as she knew she wouldn’t get confirmation now. They came upon the wooden gate and Remi stopped walking for a second to gather her thoughts. Once she hit the center of their quaint little town, where all the grown-ups were congregating, she knew that she would have to deal with a lot of stupid questions and lines of reasoning she couldn’t even imagine. It was taxing.
Her eyes averted from the group of adults about a quarter mile in the distance and to the sides, where their homes laid. It wasn’t much to behold. Long lines of log cabins and makeshift huts extended out into the distance as far as she could see. There were no fields or crops or town squares or buildings of recreation. There were just places of sleep, and dirt roads to stand in while the townsfolk discussed their next adventure.
Eat. Raid. Eat.
Raid. Eat. Raid.
The town didn’t even have a name. That was how lazy they were. Not that they traded or dealt with anyone else. If it wasn’t for stealing from Cimmerian, she would think they were alone in the world. The only other evidence were the stories passed around after the town was good and drunk. Sitting in a circle in the middle of the main dirt road, they would laugh and jeer as they told stories of the Sages and what the world was like before the worlds collided. In slurred speech and vomit stained shirts, they would describe what Kingdoms they once belonged to—back when there were actual Kingdoms.
Then they would begin fighting over who was better, both with words and fists and terminology that she couldn’t understand.
Quietus. Langoran. Allayan. Prattlian. Delilah. Yama.
She determined that they were all different races or types of people, but she didn’t know the significance behind them. To her, her people all looked and acted the same so she wasn’t sure why the labels mattered. And if anything, it gave her less hope in the outside world. If they were all from different races, and they were exactly the same in how they acted, then who could she connect to out there?
“REMI!” the voice cried out again and Remi realized it had been her mother calling her. If she had realized that from the beginning she wouldn’t have stopped to take in the sights. She reluctantly shuffled forward as the rest of the adults waited patiently for her to arrive. None of them were arguing so now she was really worried. Her mother—a ragged and frail woman with too many dirty coats hanging off her shoulders—glared at her with contempt.
“Did you see anything while we were gone?”
“What do you mean?” Remi asked sheepishly. She noticed that Olivia had slinked off into the shadows.
“Did you see anyone while we were gone?”
“No. No one.”
“Are you sure? You were in the town the whole time?”
Remi knew the raid group saw her walking from outside the town’s border, so she knew there was no point in lying.
“No, I went to look at the lights in the sky.”
“It’s cold outside. What are you doing out there alone? If you got sick, someone would have to stay back and watch you instead of heading back out.”
“The raid didn’t go well?” Remi asked, trying to get the attention off of her.
“No, it didn’t,” her mother sneered, turning to spit on the ground. “And if we want to eat within the next day or two, we have to go back out…tonight.”
“But you just got back. Aren’t you tired?”
“Are you going to help?!” Remi winced and bowed her head.
“No,” she muttered, and her mother crossed her arms.
“Exactly,” she said. “So here’s what I want you to do. I need you to stay here in the town and not wander off anymore. If you see anything, you’re going to have to confront them and convince them that they’ve found the wrong place.”
“We’ve never done that before.”
“We’re going to be exhausted,” her father replied, appearing from behind her mother. He was as thin as she, just taller. Balding and sporting a long grey beard, when she looked at him, she usually thought of Death. That probably wasn’t fair to him, but he certainly never spoke much about life. “We won’t have the strength to fight off anyone that comes looking for us,” he continued. “That means you’ll have to step it up for once. Be useful.”
“But what if they attack me?”
“I don’t know. Ask your friend to help you. It’s not our problem. From now on, if you want to eat our food, you have to earn it. I’m sick of you lying around the house all day.”
“It’s not my fault.”
“That’s not my problem.”
“Fine,” she seethed. “I’ll do it.”
“Good,” he said, looking at the townspeople around him. All of them—eighty in all—prepared themselves for the long night ahead.
“Can I ask you something?” Remi spoke up and her mother glared at her like she had just been cussed out. “Why didn’t the raid work?”
“We went in too deep,” she muttered before turning back to her husband. “We have to get going. I don’t want to be in Cimmerian while the sun is up.”
Remi’s father stretched his hand up into the air and made a circling motion with it. The raid team began to march out the town’s back entrance, albeit slower than before. No one looked back to make sure that she was okay. But she was fine with it. As far as she was concerned, there were two ways of looking at it.
She could wallow in self-pity, or she could become more independent as a result. She chose the latter, realizing that their negligence was only making her stronger. If they were nurturing and provided for all her needs from the beginning, she wouldn’t know how to forage for her own food whenever they were away. She wouldn’t know how to repair the holes in the house or how to fight off the wandering predator. Their care would have become her crutch, and she hadn’t had to use crutches yet.
She barely noticed when they were gone. It was the lack of noise that alerted her, and like an old friend, silence blanketed the town, and she allowed her thoughts to wander. Besides Olivia and a few of the elderly, she was alone, and that was fine.
She yawned and stretched her neck down the dirt road, evaluating how far she would have to walk to get home. She closed her eyes for a second, feeling exhaustion slide down her back. And when she opened them next, someone was standing in the middle of the road. At first she thought it was a straggler from the raid group, but when her vision focused, she realized that wasn’t true.
The stranger was clad in a dark green robe with patterns of light blue daffodils strung across the chest and a hood over his face. He strode toward her slowly with his fists clenched. She remembered her parents’ words—that she should convince the stranger that he found the wrong place.
But all she could think about was the eidolon hidden deep within.
As if reading her thoughts, the stranger placed a hand to his right hip and a flash of light cracked across her eyes. She yelped out in agony as the light blinded her, and when her vision cleared, the stranger was already behind her with a sword pressed firmly against her throat.
Chapter 2 – Daydreams
“What is the name of this place?” he whispered into her ears. His voice was surprisingly higher-pitched than she suspected, and it cracked when he said “place,” as if he was just going through puberty.
“It doesn’t have a name,” she whispered, realizing that she was still in great danger, re
gardless of how he sounded. With him being so close to her, there was no way she could get her eidolon out in time.
“What kind of town doesn’t have a name?” he scoffed. He kept the tip of the blade to her throat as he began circling around her so that he could see her face. It looked like an average sword. Nothing special…but it had appeared like an eidolon would. Could he be a…?
“This town doesn’t have a name,” she repeated as he removed the hood from his head. As it fell down, his long dirty blonde hair went wildly in all directions from the static electricity. His eyes were a soft hazel and his face was smooth and untouched. He was about her age, but he had seen and endured a lot less. She felt her odds improving.
“Listen to me,” he said slowly, trying to appear tough. “I need you to tell me what this place is. I don’t have time to play around.”
“I don’t have to tell you anything,” she replied, keeping her eyes steady on his. “What are you doing here?”
“That’s not for you to know,” he said as Remi’s eyes caught some movement from behind him. Olivia was crouched low and making her way slowly to his back. She averted her eyes back to the intruder so that he wouldn’t get suspicious.
“What’s your name?” Remi asked and the stranger sneered.
“I’m the one asking the questions. What is this place? Why is it on the edge of Cimmerian?”
“Because the people here are stupid. Just like you are for coming here. You have no idea how much trouble you’re in.”
“I doubt it,” he replied as Olivia slashed at his back with a rusty long blade. The stranger winced but it was obvious the cut hadn’t done much. He turned around and kicked her in the face, sending her flying in the air. Remi clenched her fists and prepared for the counterattack when she heard the growl.
“No,” she whispered as her eyes widened in horror. The adults must have been tired. Either that or they didn’t care who was killed out of those left behind.
For some reason, they had kept the gates open.
And the three hounds of Cimmerian were hungry.
She turned around slowly, listening for any change in the slow and steady grumble of both the hounds’ throats and their stomachs. When she had fully faced the hound, she realized how much danger they were all in. The stranger stood silent and still behind her. Even Olivia had climbed to her feet and trembled next to the intruder, almost as if she had forgotten about the blow he had just given her.
The Last War (Book #9 of the Sage Saga) Page 16