Mother writhed, making faces of discomfort. Her eyes rolled, and she wheezed in and out of consciousness. Why did I shout at her? I stood at the bedpost until she calmed. Nova knelt at her side, holding Mother’s chilled hand until she fell asleep. We went into the living room.
“I’m so glad you came back, Darwin,” said Nova as she looked at the ceiling. I found her gleaming eyes. There was worry in them.
“What’s wrong?”
Her head leaned back against the couch, and she looked away. She was quiet a long time. Tears rolled. “Momma’s been sick for almost a year and a half now,” she whispered. “She’d come home from LeGarrison one morning, gasping and holding her chest. Her face was dirty, and she had scratches on the back of her neck. She told me she had fallen over in the market, but I knew she was lying—”
“What?”
“Markus and others have come to check on her, and Bane even hired a doctor to tend to her, but it didn’t help. When they were talking, I heard the doctor say it was an illness from the east. I can’t remember what he called it.”
Her words were bewitching, casting me into a long silence. The devastation was like a dull knife prodding my chest. The Black Salt... it looked like... the salt of a slain Abyssian. The Plague, I realized. I’d seen it before, often in the aftermath of great battles. Militia members became sick from their wounds being exposed to the gritty substance. She must’ve encountered it somehow. She’ll need a Panacea Lily.
It was the flower of life mentioned in Doctrine. At the end of the war with the specters in the ancient era, the Superiors raised a lily out of the earth, and it grew larger than anything mortal made. It was said to have carried them beyond the highest clouds unto Ezilum. They allowed only the unsettled spirits of the dead to dwell with them and destroyed the overgrown plant so none of the living could reach them. Much smaller forms of the plant grew in the ages to come as a promise of the Superiors’ eternal faithfulness. The Panacea. It was a yellow and green lily found in many woodlands. The Militia’s inventory was full of them, and I had regretted not bringing any with me when I left. I grunted.
“She has horrid night terrors. And I fear that if I wake her, I might hurt her. What do I do, Darwin?” Nova bawled and collapsed.
I sat beside her and grasped her in rocking arms. “It’ll be fine, Nova. She just needs a Panacea Lily.” Then I took a full breath and told her the news, “The Plague has stricken Mother, the very same illness begot by the Black Salt.”
She winced. “Plague?”
I explained it as best I could—the details coming from my observations instead of my knowledge on the subject. I omitted that those who did not ingest the Panacea in time, eventually perished. The news had worried Nova enough.
“She must’ve encountered the salt—inhaled it or touched it and ate something without washing her hands,” I told her.
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
“Look at me. It’s going to be all right,” I said, lifting Nova’s chin. “Let your brother handle this. It’s no matter for a young girl. Come on, let’s go and clean the kitchen.”
I thought it would help get her mind off the subject as it had with many things, many times before, and I could clean away my guilt. As I scrubbed the dining table, Nova came splashing soap on the bottom of my trousers. “Hey.” She laughed and hopped, popping drifting bubbles. I did the same.
“Four, five, six,” she counted. “I’m winning.” We used to play this game when we were younger. When Mother would make us do household chores, it was always this game that would decide who finished cleaning the rest of the kitchen.
“In the end, you won’t,” I said.
“Don’t I always?”
“Six, seven, eight, nine,” I counted.
“Ten!” she belted, leaping with joy. It was the number that ended the game. “This place needs lots of cleaning. Get to it,” she said mockingly. I had won. I was on more like fifteen. Screw it, I thought. We cleaned together for nearly an hour, laughing our stomachs sore, speaking of good memories as we sat on the wet and lathered floor against the cabinetry. Silence eventually brought us back to the glum reality of Mother’s condition.
“Southwood is only a couple leagues from here. I can be there and back with a Panacea Lily in no time.”
“Wait...” Nova shook. “You have to leave now? You’ve only just arrived. Can’t we try to find the Panacea in the city?”
“We could, but it most likely won’t be sold in the market. It’s not your everyday daisy. It'd be best if I left now. Every second is precious at this point."
She sighed against it. “If you must.”
“Let’s get you off to bed.”
To her room in the far corner of the house we went. The air was cold and crisp as it breezed through an open window. Her room was comfortable and neat. “Tell me a story,” she insisted as she nestled beneath her covers. I couldn’t refuse her.
“The darkness came, and there I was, trembling before it. Then I took my blade and sliced an Abyssian into ashes.” As the tale went on, I leaped and gestured in theatrics. I pressed a hand toward the hilt of my sword, unsheathed it and swung it through the air. “Of course, there’s never just one of the vermin. More came about, and I spun and leaped as I cut its legs from under it. In no time, the battle was over—me and the Foxes, we laughed in their dead faces like they were nothing.”
“Exciting,” she said, crawling upon the edge of the bed in delight. “You must be an expert at sword fighting now. I dream of becoming a warrior just like you, fearless and brave... Someday... D’ you think I could be one?”
“Of course—nothing to it.”
“Think you could teach me?”
I laughed. “Get some rest.” I kissed her forehead and placed my sword in its sheath.
“I love you, Darwin,” she said.
“And I, you.”
The hour was late when I finally went to my room upstairs. The bed looked recently done with fresh sheets. A wood case stood neatly with trinkets and objects of my childhood. Upon the topmost shelf, I picked up a rock turquoise in color with a red and brown stripe down its odd shape. I was eight years old when I found it. To that day, it was still the weirdest-looking rock I’d ever seen.
After setting it correctly in place, I rummaged through my old belongings in a chest beneath the windowsill. Toys and collectibles filled it. On top was a pair of dark silver gauntlets that one of my closest comrades from the Militia won in a festival last time we visited. Wrought on each backhand was Lucreris’s very own Sun Crown: intricate gold lines that curved and interconnected, forming the finished insignia of a sun wearing a crown. Stitched between the lines of the crowns were small studs of purple gemstones. So, this is where that ol’ half-satyr left these. They were expensive and made of the finest silver in Memoria.
When I finished going through the chest, I prepared for my departure. There was a satchel underneath my bed that Mother always packed for me for whenever I visited. I emptied it on the mattress. Most of the traveling tools were still in good condition, though there were dusty. Lying there was a compass, flint, first aid kit, a waterskin, and a coin necklace. A bedroll was on the floor beside the wood frame, rolled and tied with two brown, silver-belted straps. I already had most of what I needed, save for provisions and water. I neatly repacked.
In a hidden drawer in the nightstand beside my bed was an old dagger. I examined its sharpness. It was curved, and single edged—excellent for throwing and slashing, though hardly ideal for stabbing. I fastened it to my belt, and then readjusted my gear, looking out of a bay window to the white-washed tree and old well beneath the night. My thoughts took hold. First my comrades... now my mother? I couldn’t seem to shake life’s condemnation. Worse was the unshakable numbness from it. I felt stripped of all normality. The battlefield had corrupted me. Nothing in the world would ever be normal again.
It was something my friend said when he accompanied me on my trip home one time. We were right d
own beside the old well.
“There're quite a few beauties in old Lucreris, eh,” said Sergio. The tall champagne-skinned halfling kicked a leaning brick into the gaping mouth of the well. “I heard they’re rather promiscuous too. That right?” He had directed the question to me. I sat with my foot on a stool, leaning against my knee.
I hunched my shoulders with a nod.
“Will you stop being a mute for once!” he barked.
“How about we go to a bar tonight and find out,” said the third man. Cassidy leaned against the lone tree of the court with his hands in the pockets of his tan surcoat. A stubble beard covered his angular face. His hair was blond and cropped short, just long enough to run fingers through. He was lean-bodied and charmingly handsome with dark, piercing gray-blue eyes. Two swords strapped his person.
Sergio, who was the broadest and tallest of us, rubbed his goatee. “That’s the best idea you’ve come up with all day. It’s been too long since we’ve celebrated.” He wiped a bead of sweat and ruffled his black ponytail. With a smirk of bursting fury, he turned to Cassidy. “Will you take off that blasted coat? It’s hotter than hell in this city. You’re making me sweat. And do you ever relax your weapons?”
Cassidy’s eyes rolled in amusement. “To answer your first question, no. And if you’re a little warm, you should step out of the sun. Hence, that’s why I’m in the shade. As for your second question, that answer is rarely, but we were about to spar, so the real issue is, where is your sword?”
“Spar? Did you not just hear me say how blazing hot it was? Besides, I thought this was a vacation. Just last night, we arrived. What sense does it make to play with swords when that’s all we do back east? I’m ready for the booze and the women.”
“You’re always ready for the women,” said Cassidy. “All that flirting along the way wasn’t satisfying enough?”
“Preposterous,” Sergio answered with a teeth-grinning smile. “I’m young and beautiful. How could I possibly grow bored of women? What sort of peril would come of the world of women without the wondrous Sergio Makull? I'm their knight! And don’t you ever forget it,” he said with an impish smirk.
“And why should we have to remember that? We aren’t women.”
I grinned with quiet laughter. Cassidy stepped into the sunlight squinting and cupping a hand over his face. “Besides, if I were a woman, the first thing I would do is run as far and fast as I could from Sergio Makull.”
Sergio grunted. “If you were a woman, they’d throw you and your beard into the army, and we’d still be having this conversation.” We all laughed. I tossed my sword and caught it as I sprang from the stool.
“For the first time, I think I agree with Sergio. We should spar another day. Let’s find something to do in the city. There’s plenty to keep us entertained ‘til nightfall.”
“And then will it be time for booze and women?”
I nodded. “Sure. Booze and women.”
Sergio clenched his fists and flexed his biceps. “Yes!” he said, growlingly. “You can always count on me to keep us to the finer, normal things in life.”
Cassidy brandished his sword at his side and examined the blade’s gentle curve. “Oh, my oblivious comrade. Nothing in this world will ever be normal again.”
The memory faded. Nothing in this world will ever be normal again, I thought. I didn’t understand the depth of it then.
The moon’s silvery light cascaded over the land when I was ready. All that’s left is food and water. I gathered it quickly, taking more than I would need because I didn’t know how long the luxury would last out in the wilderness. I checked on my mother before leaving. She lay passed out in her blankets. Concern coursed through me until I saw the subtle heaving of her bosom. She was paler than just hours ago, her face expressionless and body unnervingly still. She looks... I refused to think the word.
As I left her to check on Nova, sudden fatigue struck me, and my eyes grew heavy. I should get a few hours of rest. I hadn’t slept for two days. The inward parts of the Endless Desert were far too untrustworthy for it. I slept until the wee hours before dawn, and while all was still and quiet, I slipped away, going away from Lucreris like a knight with urgent news from his king. I traveled south, and by morning light I had gone unseen, back into the vast desert that covered the majority of Memoria.
Endless.
Captain Sergio
Sergio grunted when warmth struck his face, and the darkness behind his closed eyes burned red. A man he’d known all too well pulled the curtain from the window of his sleeping quarters and bathed him in stark sunlight. “Wake up, fool,” said Masters.
Wiping the drool from his mouth, Sergio lifted his head. He was drowsy from the rum he’d downed just the night before. Two charmed women moaned in their sleep beside him—the three of their bodies intertwined and twisted in the sheets. He made his way from under legs and arms, standing woozily.
“Put some clothes on, will you,” Masters barked.
“Turn off the lights first, will you?” said Sergio. There was a glare in his sight when the room darkened.
The women awoke with groaning and sat upright. “Sergio, my darling,” called one. “Must you go so early? Lie with us a short while longer.”
Sergio slipped into his trousers, fitting his ebony horsetail through a self-made hole between his back pockets. “Sorry, ladies. The captain’s had his fun, but duty calls.”
“—And he’s late for the formation, thanks to you Arkhadian vagabonds,” Masters added bitterly. The gunman was leaning against the wall with a hand hanging over the pistol grip of his musket.
Sergio took his tunic overhead. “That’s no way for a gentleman to treat ladies for their services, Masters.”
“Forgive me, Captain, but when my morning consists of our brethren barking down my neck about your carelessness, I tend to get a little cranky.”
The girls laughed. “Aww... come hither. We can help you feel better,” said one.
“I doubt that.”
The second one growled, “Oooh, so mean. Fine then, grumpy.”
As Sergio tightened his belt around him, the woman of auburn hair stood on her knees at the foot of the bed and linked arms behind his neck, swinging him into a kiss. “Just something to remember me by, Captain,” she told him.
Masters rolled his eyes.
The second woman of raven hair kissed his neck. “And me as well. Come back soon.”
When Sergio finished dressing, the two men left and started into the seafront town of Iristadt, a province of the Arkhades Kingdom, and northwest of its capital, Arkhadia. They rushed. Sergio’s tardiness shook his usual calm and relaxed nature. It wasn’t a good first impression for his recent promotion. The general was a stern and fair man even with his pick of the litter. If he ever caught wind of this irresponsibility, the new captain would surely hear a fiery reprimand. “I completely forgot about the formation this morning.”
Masters grumbled and flipped his pistol by the trigger. “You always forget about the formation, Sergio, especially when women are involved. And it’s your roll-call, one that you scheduled! You know, one of these days you should try not being a whoremonger. Find yourself a good woman and settle down. Isn’t it Ultima’s commandment concerning relations—monogamy?”
Sergio grimaced. “Yeah, so? You think because I’m half satyr, it automatically makes me an Ambic? For your information, I tend to lean toward the Superiors’ say on dealings between men and women. Besides, I tried the one-woman fiasco. Didn’t work.”
“What happened—she run you away from the frightening idea of lifelong commitment?”
Sergio didn’t answer the question. He fixed his wrinkled vest about himself and cleared his throat as he swept his eyes down and up.
Masters leaned his head back with a groan. “Ah. By the look on your face, she must be the one that got away.” A whipping glare from the halfling confirmed the assumption.
“Mind your own business. I’ll do what I want when
I want.”
The young gunman smacked his lips. “Apparently. I don’t quite get you, sport.”
“It’s, Captain, now,” said Sergio with a cold stare. The corner of his lip curled upward.
Masters laughed. “At this rate, not for long.”
Iristadt was a town made of a single hilly central path of large cobblestone. Few people lived there, but there were enough pedestrians to busy the road. At its end, just a few yards from where Sergio stood, were the tall arch doors to the lord’s manor. Two poorly armored men guarded the entrance with short swords, admittedly easy to subdue, should he ever need to. In front of a half-wood building at his nine o’clock position, Sergio found all fifteen of his men in formation: five columns and three rows.
They joked and laughed and repeatedly apologized to the many passersby their formation inconvenienced. Sergio fixed himself before announcing his presence. Blast. I look like a slob. He cleared his throat, centering himself in front of them. He heard quiet chuckling and grumbling. They were irritated, and rightfully so. “Sorry I’m late,” said Sergio bashfully and then barking at them with prompt anger. “Keep this between us. If any of you go back to the general with this, I’m gonna’ make the rest of your sniveling little lives a living hell! Got it?”
He thought he heard Masters at his right spit a remark beneath his breath.
Sergio hissed, “That goes for everyone,” he clarified, glaring at the gunman. The men were silent. “Now, as you know, this isn’t a political mission. The two kingdoms of Memoria have long since denied us their support in the war against the horde. We’re here for one reason and one reason only: contact our brethren that may be here in this forsaken, dry land and give them the word of the impending attack. Any man who wishes to join us of his free will is permissible, but coercion is prohibited. Our favor is little here, and we don’t want to sway the tide with Royals.”
Enigma: Awakening Page 4