Xalen let out a throaty laugh. “I did it. I finally beat you!”
The Mordered girl rolled her eyes. “Don’t get too excited.” She pushed the sword out of her face. “It took you three months to get the better of me, and I’m not even a sword user. Be glad I didn’t use my metaton.”
“Awww…admit it. You’re proud of me.” Nandi was a great teacher, of that was no doubt. Xalen, however, had married her teachings with what he learned from the many books he’d devoured. It was those maneuvers, those long-lost sword techniques that had allowed him to finally get the better of the Mordered girl.
Xalen’s chest lifted when he noticed the sly smirk on Nandi’s face.
“Yes, that was pretty good,” she said.
“Yes, indeed,” said a frail voice. Xalen stood rigid. “Those high-arched sword swings, and especially the way you brought up your feet over your neck as you kicked. Those are all belong to the Luceno arts, an aristocratic, seldom used fighting ability that has been mostly forgotten. Where did you learn it?”
Xalen gulped as he faced Sensei Kayos, who had trudged out of the darkness. Her eyes were rimmed in red, as if she had not slept in days.
“I learned it from one of the books back on my home planet of Vintra.”
The woman’s face grew thoughtful for a minute. Then it dissolved, replaced by a face of understanding. “Makes sense. The Luceno clan was known to have frequented Vintra cycles before their demise.”
Nandi and Xalen shot confused looks at each other. Had the sensei ambushed their midnight training to go over a history lesson of the martial arts? Wasn’t she going to scold them for being out after curfew? Maybe punish them with washing duty at the river?
“Please,” said Kayos, noticing the confusion in their faces. “You didn’t honestly think that I was unaware of your late night meetings. I know everything that occurs on my dojo.”
“Why did you allow us to stay up after sleeping hours?” asked the Mordered. She looked on curiously.
“Simple. Sensei Barteau told me what happened. I came to realize what you seemed to have realized as well. Mr. Xalen needed proper training if he’s going to defend himself against the Deargs, especially seeing that they seem to have taken a special interest in him.” She paused, her frail body shaking as she looked at them sternly. “However, seeing that Mr. Xalen has obviously become somewhat capable with his weapon. I expect these late night incursions to stop. We can’t have students coming and going about the dojo at whatever time they please.”
Without saying another word, the sensei left, her trembling body disappearing into the pitch darkness.
Wordlessly, the two young Alioths headed to their dormitories, aware of how fortunate they’d been to have gotten off so easily.
ΩΩΩ
Xalen did not sleep that night, even after he got back to his room. How could he? The past few months he’d busied himself in his training, not giving much thought to the Deargs. Kayos’s reminder, however, had brought back the fears of before. The questions that dwelled within his mind bubbled to the top of his consciousness, demanding answers. Why did the Dearg want to capture him? And even more importantly, what did they plan to do with him when they did?
ΩΩΩ
The morning brought zero relief. Zombie-like, Xalen stumbled out of the dining room and into the garden. The heat bore down on him, even as he settled under the shade that the tall trees provided. He set his tray of mashed wheat on the soft grass. It was not the aroma of food that he smelled, though. Instead, the putrid stench of the Dearg as it opened its mouth flowed into his nostrils. Out of the tree branches that dangled above, the face of a Dearg burst forth. Xalen’s elbow hit the grass as he clawed back. His heart raced as the stitched face moved ever closer to him. Its gaze bore down on him, with yearning eyes that hungered to take the Alioth in its clutches.
“What’s wrong with you?”
The wicked face of the Dearg dissolved, giving way to a pair of bulgy eyes that were spaced too far apart. The eyebrows above the eyes were thick and grimy, almost as if someone had taken them thorough a race in the mud. The skin around the eyes was as black as tar, which only made the stained, yellow-toothed smile stand out even more.
“What’s wrong with you?” repeated the chubby-cheeked boy once more. The curved sword that hung from his waist clattered noisily as he lowered himself so that they were face to face.
Xalen’s eyes fluttered. He noticed that the boy was not alone. In fact, he was flanked by a posse of other Alioths. Three were male, two were female.
“What do you want?” asked Xalen. He tried to sound confident, which was difficult when cowering back on his elbows. Taking a long breath, he sat back up.
“I’m Lastrius,” said the newcomer. “Leader of the Cosmo Runners.”
Xalen narrowed his eyes. “The cosmo what?”
“The Cosmo Runners.” Lastrius looked back to his gang proudly. “We are a special group of Alioths who run this dojo.”
“I was under the impression that Kayos ran this academy.”
“Phew. That old foolish woman can hardly walk. How is she expected to run a dojo?”
“She seems to be doing just fine.”
“You say that because you weren’t here before, in the good old days. Back when traitorous races like the Mordered and the Krington weren’t allowed into our dojo.”
Xalen bit his lip, trying to keep the anger that was steaming within from become visible.
“The Mordered are no traitors,” said Xalen, more forcefully than he’d intended.
“Is that so? I suppose I just imagined the fact that every Mordered from every dojo in the Alioth defected to Yashvir during the battle.” He leaned forward as he repeated himself, adding emphasis to each word that came out of his mouth. “Every. Single. One.”
“So…” said Xalen after a second of apprehension. The truth was that no matter how much he wished it. No matter how much he hoped it wasn’t so. He had no answer for Lastrius. He found himself wishing that he had spent a bit more time studying history back on Vintra, instead of just battle strategies. “It’s no big deal.” He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips.
Lastrius’s face changed, turned icy. The crowd gathered behind him shook their heads in clear disapproval. “No big deal? No big deal! In what galaxy is revealing the coordinates of innocent human colonies not a big deal? Colonies full of innocent children and women.” He pumped his fist. His face grew red. “Father was there during the aftermath of the initial attacks. He said the bodies of women lay charred to the bone, their faces marred with death. The corpses from the children of the orphanages were stacked in small mountains. The stench of their rotting flesh could be smelled from miles away.”
Xalen swallowed loudly, his Adam’s apple rising high. He saw Rund’s lifeless corpse thrown over the snowy Vintra plains. Beside him, with dead, hollow eyes, lay Lourdes and Narus, along with countless other children of the orphanage. They all wore the mask of death.
“Why so quiet?” called Lastrius, eagerly. “You finally come to your senses?”
He stared at the blades of grass numbly. Then he spoke, his voice slow and deliberate. “Nandi is not those Mordered. She’s different. She’s my friend.”
The small crowd let out a series of snickers.
A wave of the hand by Lastrius brought a quick end to the laughs.
“And I suppose you would know this from the nights you two have been running around together,” he said accusingly.
Xalen tried to hide his shock. It didn’t work.
“I told you,” said Lastrius. “We’re the Cosmo Runners. Nothing happens in this dojo without us knowing about it.”
Xalen felt naked. Exposed to the world.
Lastrius wasn’t done yet, though. “You think some late night training sessions makes Nandi your friend. If she was such a friend, then tell me this. Has she mentioned what her sister did?”
Xalen’s silence was more than an answer.
; The leader of the Cosmo Runners pounced, continuing his verbal attack. “I see. Well, I’m not surprised. If I had a sister who was single-handedly responsible for the death of an entire planet, I wouldn’t be talking about her either.”
For the first time, Xalen wanted Lastrius to keep talking, to shed light onto this sister of Nandi’s.
Lastrius did not comply. He looked back at his gang. “Let’s go, runners. I thought this silver-haired idiot had what it took to be one of us.” He looked down at Xalen with a look of disgust. “Clearly I was wrong.” And then they were gone, taking with them their jeers and cackles.
Xalen was left stunned, staring down at a tray of food that no longer looked appetizing. Lastrius might have been an inconsiderate jerk, but he’d been right. How much did Xalen really know Nandi? As much as he hated to admit it, the answer was clear.
Not at all.
ΩΩΩ
In the days that followed, Xalen convinced himself that there was no sister. Lastrius, in his attempt to get under his skin, had made her up. There were moments that he wasn’t so sure, though. After all, hadn’t Reave himself said that the Mordered were not to be trusted?
Nonetheless, Xalen did his best to avoid the Mordered girl as much as possible. If he saw her eating alone in the dining room, he would rush out to the garden before she noticed him. If she was headed toward him in one of the hallways, he quickly steered the opposite way.
“Why are you running away from me?” asked Nandi, one afternoon after she had run into him at the library. Xalen had thought that the library would have been the perfect place to run away from the girl, after all, had she had made her disdain for books apparent on the day they’d met. Yet, here she was, standing in the middle of the same room they had written the paper in, staring him down. Xalen thought her skin looked a deeper shade of purple today.
“I asked you a question?” asked the girl. “C’mon, Whiz Spark. Speak up.”
Xalen fidgeted his fingers.
She waved her hand in front of his eyes. “Galaxy to Whiz Spark. Anyone there?”
“Listen,” said Xalen, choosing his words carefully. “I spoke to Lastrius.”
“Lastrius?”
“Yeah. He said some things. I…” He racked his brain, putting the words together carefully. “I didn’t believe any of the things he said. I mean, all that stuff about your sister being a traitor is just…”
And then it happened. One second he was standing up, the next he was on his back. The Mordered was sitting on his stomach. A small blaster had emerged from above her metal arm, and was pointed directly at his forehead.
“Don’t you ever refer to my sister as a traitor!”
“I…I didn’t say that,” stuttered Xalen. He could have tried to shove the girl off. Could have reached for his sword. But this was Nandi. His only friend at Zizor. He wasn’t about to get in a fight with her. “I only told you what Lastrius said.”
“Liar! You believed it. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been avoiding me!”
“I didn’t…”
“Shut up. You’re just like every other person here.” Her face quivered. Locks of hair fell over her face, obstructing one of her savage eyes. “You don’t mind being around a Mordered when you need our help, but you shove us aside as soon as you have no use for us.”
Xalen had a feeling she was no longer only speaking about her—or him.
Slowly, she brought her hand down. With a low snap, the blaster reverted back into the metaton.
“Listen…”
But Nandi did not listen. She stomped away, fists closed as she went.
Xalen was left alone, shame and guilt coursing through him as he stared at her back. She stormed into the elevator and disappeared behind the doors, cursing loudly as she went.
Chapter 11
“How long have you been here?” asked Gavin.
It was early morning. Most of the Black Sanction was still asleep, awaiting the morning bells that would wake them.
Beatrix finished her sword routine before addressing him.
“Two or three hours,” she said, sheathing her weapon.
His eyebrow raised and he whistled softly. “You would do well to get more rest. Sophic tells me that you’re always here early. I also noticed that you never join us for lunch at the cafeteria. Instead you spend all your time here, training.”
“I have no time to make friends or rest. I have a good teacher and need to learn as much as possible.”
“Yes. Sophic has told me that you have improved greatly in the past few months.”
“Not enough.”
“Enough for what?”
“You know what. I’m going to bring down the Bastion. Starting with the Alioths.”
“How are you going to do that? You hardly rest and you have no one to back you up.”
“I’m a Palek. I’ll figure it out.”
“You can’t wage a one-person war against something as powerful as the Bastion. They may be many things, but weak is not one of them. They have countless ships, soldiers, credits, and influence spread across the galaxy. If we are to defeat them and begin a new, just order, than we must come together.”
“But I need to train. I need to become stronger.”
“No. Not just you. The Black Sanction as a whole needs to become stronger. What use is someone who can wield a sword, but is too tired to function effectively?”
“I can function—”
Gavin lifted his hand. “No arguing. I need you to rest today. I’ve already instructed Sophic to not conduct any training sessions while I’m gone.”
“You’re leaving?” asked Beatrix curiously.
“Yes. I received reports that an Alioth has just arrived on one of the moons in the Noble Ring.”
“What’s so important about that? Alioths go all over the galaxy.”
“Not this Alioth. His name is Reave. If he’s looking into something on an Noble moon, then it must be something important. I aim to find out what it is.”
Reave? Reave? Beatrix scratched her head. The name sounded familiar. But where had she heard it? Then it hit her. Reave. The hero of the war! “You’re going after Reave on your own?” She couldn’t hide the worry in her voice.
“Yes. But don’t worry. I can handle him.”
“Don’t lie to me,” said Beatrix. “I’m no child. I know how strong he is. How can you stand up to him alone?”
“Your lack of confidence in my skills is disturbing,” said Gavin. “In my time with the Alioths, only Junia Barteau bested my kill count. Trust me. I can handle myself.” He met her gaze. “Besides, you have better things to worry about. Your rest, for example.”
Beatrix averted her gaze. It wasn’t that metaton eye she was looking away from, instead it was the green one. The one that seemed to reach into her inner core, turning her into a bumbling fool.
“Why would Reave continue being an Alioth?” asked Beatrix, hoping to change the conversation. “Doesn’t he know that the Bastion has ordered the death of thousands of innocents? Doesn’t he know of the robberies they’ve committed?”
“Yes he does,” said Gavin somberly. “But Reave is an optimist. He has a misguided dream of changing the Bastion from within. It is a futile goal that will never see fruition. He’s always been like that.”
“Then let me go with you. I can help you change his mind.”
“No!” said Gavin, louder than she had expected him. He seemed to have noticed that he had overreacted, because his expression instantly softened. “You stay here and rest.”
“But…” Before she could finish, Gavin leaned in and planted a kiss on her lips. It wasn’t a soft, wet kiss like she had always imagined. Instead it was rough, almost dry as Gavin’s lips met hers. Nonetheless, it left her standing in shock as her brain tried to catch up to what had just happened. By the time her mind had processed what had occurred, Gavin was gone, leaving her alone, clutching her hilt tightly. It took her a while longer to regain her senses, but when she did, sh
e realized that Gavin was right. He was looking out for her, after all. She needed to rest. The last three months of training had taken a toll on her. Only now that she finally allowed herself to stop for more than a minute, did she realize just how right he was. Her legs felt like they were on fire. Her head and back were pounding with stabs of pain.
Silently, she trudged into the walkway and headed to her room. As she did the thought of the kiss drifted in and out of her mind.
ΩΩΩ
The long, sunny days were replaced by cold, snowy ones. The green grass which had been the norm for months, gave way to long planes of white snow. The tree leaves were all gone. Their replacement were long, thin branches that resembled hands reaching out to the skies.
In the weeks since their last encounter, Xalen had hardly seen Nandi.
“Hey, Nandi!” Xalen had called after her one particular snowy day. They’d been forced indoors by the harsh wind that was whistling past the clear windows.
Nandi, like every other time he had tried to talk to her, walked away, not bothering to even acknowledge his presence.
Another time, when they were in a meditation session with Sensei Kayos, Xalen had discreetly tried to get her attention by tapping her back while whispering her name. Nandi had reacted by reporting him to the old sensei, which earned Xalen a two-week shift washing clothes by the river.
Now here they were, standing in the garden under a leafless tree. He, along with Nandi and three other rookie Alioths had been summoned by Sensei Kayos.
“Any idea why they called us here?” Xalen asked Nandi. He stood beside her.
“No idea,” responded the Mordered. “But how about you leave me alone?”
Xalen nodded glumly. “Yeah. Sure.”
Star Rising: Heartless Page 11