by Adam Watson
As time went by, the patrols became more and more frequent and what was worse was that they were getting more organised as the Creed slowly took full control of the city. The Creed knew that their band was out there, moving around, causing trouble for them - it was always going to be a matter of time before they organised a squad to hunt them down.
Eventually, the Creed cornered them, and they made their last stand. They were trapped and thought they were dead. Goran had said his ancestors were watching him and he wasn’t going to die trapped in a house like a coward. He charged out of the house like a true berserker; inspiring the others to follow and that was the fight where Dray and Kayla joined them, turning the tide.
The Commander finished writing the last of Aseeka’s story in his log book before looking up into her eyes once more.
“Well … that’s quite a tale you have told me Aseeka.” Aseeka stared back blank faced. It was hard to tell whether the Commander was pleased or displeased. She really hoped that he wasn’t displeased, she didn’t think she would like it if he was displeased. “Let’s go over this last part again.” Aseeka closed her eyes and said a quick prayer to Kara in her mind.
“Of course, Commander.” The Commander smiled, but the smile did not extend to his eyes.
“So … you and Goran, teamed up with Dray and … Kayla, was it?”
“Yes, we joined up with Dray and Kayla for a few days before your guards brought us in.”
“And … you battled some Creedic patrols during your time together?” Aseeka suddenly felt nervous – well, more nervous. Where was he going with this?
“Yes, that’s right,” she nodded.
“Let me get this straight. Goran is a warrior, you armed yourself with a bow, Dray … is a cleric of Tempus and Goran’s cousin and Kayla is just a citizen you found along the way?” Aseeka thought back in her mind. Had she made a mistake? There were too many lies for her to be sure. She had left out the parts about the dragon and Dray's ice beam - any mention of that could get the whole lot of them burnt at the stake.
“Yes, that sounds about right.” The Commander was stone-faced; his gaze burned into Aseeka’s mind.
“You’re certain that you’ve told me everything Aseeka? You’re not leaving anything out, are you?” He knows everything. Aseeka’s face felt like it was on fire, maybe he didn’t know anything, maybe he was just intimidating her, hoping she would slip. She needed to keep her cool now more than ever.
“I think I’ve told you everything Commander,” she answered.
“I see.” The Commander tapped his quill on the paper, perhaps deciding whether he should add any more to what he had written, perhaps just contemplating the truth of her words, either way, he wrote nothing more into the log. “Thank you for your time, Aseeka Bas’hara. You may go back to your seat and wait with the others. Please send Goran in next … goodbye.” If Aseeka were alone, she would have breathed a long sigh of relief. Instead, she subtly breathed one under her breath.
“Thank you, Commander,” she answered, standing up. She just wanted to get out of that room. She smiled as she left the room, if the guards weren’t in front of her she would have ran back to the others.
Goran was the first one to look up when she re-entered the mess hall.
"Is everything all right, Aseeka?" He had grown fond of her over the last few weeks and would probably kill anyone who caused her harm.
"I'm fine Goran. I'm just glad that's over with. The Commander said he wants to see you next." Goran wanted to ask her what she had told the Commander, but with the guards watching, he remained quiet. He was confident that she wouldn't have said anything that would get them into trouble.
Goran looked over to the far corner, to where the guards had isolated Dray. A white light seemed to shimmer all around him, small particles glowed and flew around in the air. They looked to be coming in through the arrow slit that was open to the outside; they floated in, appearing to settle down onto Dray's ravaged body.
Goran shook his head, it was bizarre to say the least, and he supposed the Commander would want an explanation for that as well. He swallowed hard and grimaced, lying was not in his nature, but he also didn't want to say anything that would endanger Dray. Dray did save all their lives after all. Goran shook his head again, how he was going to explain it, he still didn't know.
When Goran entered the Commander's office, he found the Commander ready and waiting; his log book opened up onto a new page, quill in hand having already been dipped into the ink.
"Please state your full name and age for the record." Goran sat down in the chair and got comfortable - he knew this was going to take a while.
"Goranverd Stormbringer, thirty-two." The Commander didn't lift his head, but he did raise his eyebrows in a questioning manner.
"Stormbringer?" Surely that wasn't Goran’s real last name.
"It’s the only name I've got. Goranverd of the Stormbringer Clan." The Commander rolled his eyes but wrote it down in the log book all the same.
"So, you’re part of one of these so-called berserker clans then?” Goran could tell by the Commander’s tone that he held the berserker clans with more than a little contempt.
“That’s right,” answered Goran, stone-faced. He already disliked the Commander. The Commander continued to write, ignoring Goran’s demeanour.
“I have to admit,” said the Commander. “I’ve heard some stories about the brutality of these clans, but I’m not familiar with how the clans work. Could you enlighten me by telling me a bit about them?” The Commander seemed so easy going, so relaxed that Goran couldn’t help but be put at ease. To tell the truth, Goran was pleased that the Commander wanted to know more about the clans before he made any real judgement on them.
“Most of us are orphans or vagrants before we join. We get approached by scouts if we look like we have potential.”
“What kind of potential?” asked the Commander, cutting in.
“Fighting potential. If we look like we can fight and be trained, the clans will approach.” The Commander nodded his assent, the army often did the same thing when they wanted to bolster their numbers. He also approved because in his mind it kept the riff-raff off the streets. They were doing the public a service, keeping them safe in two ways. First by getting the danger off of the streets and then by turning that danger into something useful - a defence for the realm.
“What happens then? Do they train you to fight and for what purpose?” The Commander seemed genuinely interested in what Goran’s answer would be.
“Yes, we undergo initiation rites and then we spend a large amount of time training and practicing, learning the rules of the clans, learning about all the different clans; which clans are aligned with which and which clans oppose one another. That sort of thing.”
“And what’s all this in aid of? Is each clan just a private army for the clan leader, protecting each part of your realm or are they a group of glorified gangs, warring against one another and terrorising the citizens.”
“We are definitely more like the first example, we are like an army, but we are like family too.” The Commander nodded and noted that down in the log, he seemed to approve of that practice.
“Now, why exactly were you and your clan members in the city when the attacks started. It seems a faraway place from the berserker lands.” Goran shifted uncomfortably in his chair. This is where the lies would begin, and he already knew he wasn’t very good at it, but he felt that he needed to protect Dray’s and Kayla’s identities until he could find out for himself what was truly going on.
“There were ten of us. We had travelled from our homeland of Slovendor on a pilgrimage to the Temple of Tempus."
"I thought the berserker clans were worshippers of Wotan, the Earth God." Goran paused, a million thoughts ran through his mind. He knows more about the clans than he's letting on. What's worse it was true, he was a worshipper of Wotan. Lies, lies, lies ... he didn't like it one bit.
"Most of us are, but there
are splinter groups, secret groups who worship the other gods."
"And why the secrecy?" The Commander dipped the quill in the ink and then cursed when an unwanted drop dripped onto the page. "Hold on a moment whilst I get this under control." The Commander opened the draw and pulled out a cotton dab cloth. He meticulously dabbed at the splotch, being extremely careful to keep the damage to a minimum. “All right, where were we? The secrecy … why is it a secret?”
“Well, clansmen can sometimes get a bit … fanatical, especially when it comes to the gods. Wotan is the dominant god amongst the clans, and if you worship another, you’ll quickly find yourself outnumbered and set upon. The confrontations can be very violent and when the ancestors are watching no-one can back down. So, those of us who do worship other gods tend to keep quiet about it.” The Commander seemed satisfied with that answer too - similar altercations had happened in the army over religion.
“How do you know who worships a god other than Wotan?” Goran inhaled deeply, the lies were getting bigger by the second.
“My cousin, Dray, is a devout follower of Tempus and always has been, to the point where he actually became a Cleric of the Order. When the clansmen initiated me, they introduced me to Wotan, but Dray's teachings have always led me to believe that Tempus is the true god.”
Goran felt sick. Had he actually just said that? Did his ancestors just witness that blasphemy? Tempus … the true god? He could almost taste the bile in his mouth. Forgive me Wotan, but Dray saved our lives this day. Surely Wotan could understand that, and Goran also knew that his ancestors would say that he owed Dray a huge debt for saving him from an adversary as great as a Shadow Dragon. Goran nodded to himself and felt at peace with what he had said.
“Only when I started praying at the temple did I realise that there were other clansmen there too. We began to talk, and through them, I found the secret splinter group that worshipped Tempus.” Goran remained stone-faced, but secretly he wanted to smile. The story was good, he could almost believe it himself, but he also felt bad lying - lying was a coward’s way, and the coward’s way was most certainly not his way, but maybe this would keep Dray safe, and so he bit his tongue and the lies continued.
“So, that is why you were in the city … to worship Tempus?”
“Yes … but this time we went to Candelier City specifically because I wanted to visit my cousin Dray at the same time.” The Commander paused, looked up and had a good look at Goran before returning to his notes; sometimes he would mutter under his breath as he wrote.
“… visit cousin Dray at the same time.” The Commander finished writing, and then sat up, stretching his arms and fingers out, he cracked his neck before continuing.
“Tell me about your cousin. What happened to him and what’s that … ‘light’ coming through the window?” Up until this point Goran had minimal nerves, but this was going to be his biggest lie yet, and the Commander still had to interview Kayla. His whole story would have to rely on what she had said to the soldier at the bottom of the wall - he couldn’t afford to give too much away, or their stories would be too different. He knew he had to generalise, but he also knew that he was as bad at that as he was at lying - he took a deep breath before continuing.
"I had entered the temple and was walking down the corridor on my way to my cousin's quarters. On the way there, people began to scream. People were running away, I didn't know why ... it was just chaos. I knew danger was coming, but I couldn't leave. I had my sword with me and my brothers, my other clansmen, we were all concerned for my cousin."
"What happened then?"
"Creedic demons came from all around. One minute it was peace and tranquillity, then next it was total chaos. It was as if they just appeared, they were everywhere, all at once, and I still have no idea where they came from or how they got in there." The Commander nodded his head as he jotted.
"A mystery indeed." Goran felt like the Commander had heard this story many times before. It was still hard to tell whether he actually believed it or not.
"We had to fight our way into Dray's quarters." The Commander stopped. He looked up and stared straight into Goran's eyes; he smiled as if Goran had finally come to a part of his story worth listening to.
"And that's when you found Dray right?"
"Yes." The Commander’s smile broadened. The look he had on his face even began to unnerve Goran.
"What was he doing when you found him?" Goran had to pause and think for a moment. Why was the Commander asking this now, instead of waiting for him to tell the full story? Is he trying to rattle me? If he was, it was starting to work. Just stick to the story Goran.
"He was battling some kind of Creedic magic user. When the mage saw us enter the room he blasted some kind of beam at Dray. I don’t know what it was, but it did that to him; he was referring to the chunks of flesh that seem to have eroded off of Dray's body. "I've got no idea what the shimmering light coming through the window is." That part was definitely true, he couldn't even think of a believable lie to explain it. "But Commander, Dray is my cousin, I couldn't just leave him there." The Commander nodded his agreement. He wouldn’t abandon someone he cared about either, even if the circumstances were somewhat peculiar.
“Knowing what you know of your cousin and watching that … ‘light’ shimmer through the window and onto his body, what do you think we should do with your cousin?” Goran tried to think, he wasn’t expecting that question. What would he do if his lie were the truth?
“The only thing I can think of is to get him to the Temple of Tempus in Amalicia City and hope that the clerics know what to do.” The Commander thought about the answer for a brief second before adding it to the log book.
“A wise course of action, whatever it is, it is beyond normal healing and defies normal explanation, no-one here has ever seen anything like it.” The Commander took one final look at Goran - a long, hard, evaluating gaze. Needless to say, Goran didn’t like it one bit. Give him nothing. Goran sat there stone-faced and unmoving. “Very well, you may go now, Goranverd Stormbringer. Please wait with the others and send Kayla in to see me.” Goran stood up and headed for the door.
“Thank you for your time, and thank you for getting us out of the city Commander.” The Commander smiled.
“Don’t thank me just yet.” Goran looked back with a confused look on his face, then he smiled at the Commander like what he had just heard was a good joke. The Commander simply looked down and went back to writing his notes. What was that supposed to mean?
Back in the room Kayla and Aseeka sat. They had been quiet the whole time Goran was being interviewed. Each desperately wanted to talk to the other and discuss what the Commander had said to Aseeka, but both knew it was too risky. The guards around them may have looked like they were half asleep, but there was no doubt in Kayla’s mind that their ears were wide open and listening; ready to report anything they heard back to the Commander.
Goran entered and told Kayla that the Commander was waiting for her. Kayla gave Goran a worried look when he told her, Goran grabbed her by the arms and made her look at him.
"Don't worry Kayla," he said, and quickly flicked his eyes towards the guard. "Just tell the Commander the truth, and everything will be fine." He quickly flicked his eyes in the direction of the nearest guard again before letting her go and taking his seat. Kayla feigned comfort at Goran's words before leaving the room.
When Kayla entered the Commander’s office the same thing occurred that had happened with Goran, the Commander was ready and waiting - quill in hand.
“Take a seat and then please state your full name and age for the record.” Kayla sat down calmly in the chair, she seemed far more poised than either Aseeka or Goran.
“Kayla Faera, twenty-eight.” She had answered one question, and already she had lied - Faera was not her actual last name. The Commander jotted it down.
“Where were you and what were you doing when the Creed attacked?” Kayla would need to think carefully about her a
nswers - if she wanted them to match the answers of Aseeka and Goran’s.
"I was in the workshop sorting out stock when the attacks started." The Commander raised his eyes, that answer was a little too general for his liking.
"What kind of workshop and what kind of stock are you talking about?"
"I'm a seamstress by trade, my aunt owned a shop that sold clothes, and I worked for her - making dresses mostly. We had a workshop out the back of the main shop, and I was in there sorting out fabric when the attacks started."
"What was the name of your aunt’s shop?" Kayla chose the name of a shop she used to frequent before she had become the Oracle - one she had noticed was burnt to the ground.
"It was called 'Meg's Tailoring', and it was in the western quadrant." The Commander seemed to think about this as he wrote it down in the log book.
"I think I know the one." Kayla smiled, but secretly hoped that the Commander didn't know it too well.
“Your aunt was Meg?”
“Yes.” Kayla really hoped the Commander didn’t actually know Meg, which was always a possibility.
“What happened to Meg?” Kayla cast her eyes down to the floor, feigning sadness.
“She’s dead. The Creed killed her and burnt the whole shop to the ground.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” The Commander’s tone echoed the sadness that Kayla was supposed to be feeling. Does he actually know her? Maybe he was just trying to unnerve her. She would have to be even more careful with her answers from now on. The chances of the Commander personally knowing Meg were slim - she still didn’t like it though.
“How did you escape the Creed and the destruction?”
“At first I heard a commotion coming from the shop. I went to investigate thinking it was just an unruly customer, but as I approached the noise became louder. I could hear people shouting, and it sounded like they were smashing up the place. When I glimpsed through the doorway I saw some Creedic soldiers, Aunt Meg was on the floor covered in blood … I could tell she was already dead. I was so scared, I just ran out the back and into the alleyway behind the shop.”