“You don’t like the plains, do you?” asked Yahn.
“You have food to cook,” Senri said. It irked her how, like Nat, he was able to read her emotions so easily.
Yahn sighed and tossed his hands up. “Well, if I had meat to cook, I would be doing so.” He looked around the campsite as he stood and gazed around the field. “Nathaniel and Lanan were supposed to be back by now. Senri, why don’t you go track them? They were supposed to be in that wooded area.” He pointed to a small cluster of trees a way off. “Their footprints should be easy enough to follow.”
“Fine,” said Senri. She picked up a stick from the pile of spare wood and lowered it into the fire. The head caught and she pulled it out.
“I can get you an actual torch,” said Yahn. Senri gestured to herself. “Oh, right. You control fire.”
“Heat.”
“Hm?” Yahn poked a stick into the center of the flames, pushing around the logs.
“I control heat,” she clarified.
Yahn only shrugged and Senri took off, locating the footprints of Nat and Lanan, the short-haired woman. They should have been back with something or a report of nothing at all. Senri took comfort in the gentle heat coming off the torch. The entity chewed through the wood slowly to preserve itself. As she walked, the chirping of nearby insects and the faint clicking of animals followed her. She looked around, expecting to see a creature staring at her through the tall blades of grass.
The wind gusted and she stopped. Her fire flickered. The grass rustled. She stared in vain into the dark depths beyond her curtain of light. The moon, only a sliver that night, provided no help. Stupid plains. She moved her free hand to grip the hilt of her sword and continued moving to the cluster of trees.
She paused at the edge of the tree-line. Irrational fear gripped her muscles. It was too small to be a forest, but still large enough to hide a predatory beast. “I am too young for this.” She held the fire in front of her. The flames crackled, but did little to expel the shadows from between the trees. She gulped. “Am I not a Warrior of Osota?” The footprints clearly went into the woods and no tracks exited.
Senri stepped into the woods. Twigs cracked underneath her feet no matter where she stepped, and each break grew louder as she walked deeper into the woods. She breathed a little easier when she realized the hushed sound of a forest had returned. She followed the footsteps until a twig she had not stepped on snapped.
Ahead of her, too far away to see what did it, Senri paused and listened, torch held out before her like a shield. After several tense seconds, someone giggled.
“Hello?” she called out. “Is that you, Nat?” The laughter gave way to shouts meant to scare her. Senri moved forward, searching in the dark for whoever made the noise. “Nat? If that’s you and Lanan, please tell me you caught something for Yahn to cook back at camp.”
“Is that why he sent you? He’s an impatient one, isn’t he?” She heard Nat’s voice coming from the right. She turned and moved toward it. The clanking of armor floated her direction. Her fire casted light on the distinct forms of Nat and Lanan, both standing intimately close with half their clothing gone. Senri’s jaw dropped.
“Really, Nat?” she asked, her voice rising. “You two were keeping us from dinner just to...” Words failed her. She gestured with her free hand at the strewn clothes across the forest floor. “This?”
“Relax, kid,” said Lanan. The young woman walked forward, tugging her shirt down over a well-proportioned chest.
“That seems a little difficult, considering the circumstances,” Senri growled. Lanan pouted and ran a hand through her hair.
“Hey!” Nat pulled at a buckle to his armor. “Lanan simply knows a fine specimen of flesh when she sees one.” He stroked a hand over his torso suggestively.
Senri pinched her brow and Lanan laughed. “Or I’m not too particular about my company.”
Nat held a hand over his heart in mock hurt. “So this is the thanks I get for giving you a romantic evening.”
Lanan shrugged.
Senri waved the fire at them in warning. “Did you at least get food? Or were you too busy eating each other?”
Nat held up a few rabbits. “Would I ever let you starve?”
“For a pretty girl? Yes.”
“I have to agree with your friend,” said Lanan. “You are too eager for love.” Nat pushed his way between the two and they walked back to the camp. The grasslands did not seem so eerie with company.
“Both of you are so hateful,” Nat mocked. “And you should be more grateful, Senri. After all, I pulled Lanan off of Vella for you.”
Senri cringed. She knew whatever came next would be embarrassing.
“Oh,” said Lanan, exaggerating the sigh with a long breath. “That’s why Nat jumped on me, is it?” She stepped a little closer to Senri. Despite Senri’s own impressive height, Lanan was still taller than her. She could feel the Warrior gazing down at her in amusement. She grinned and said, “You know, you could do much better.”
Senri pushed Lanan aside. The flames on the torch danced high and burned quickly until a dying piece of wood cracked, reminding her to control the flames again. “What do you care anyways? You’re too old for her.” She glared at Lanan, trying to will her eyes to shoot fireballs at the smug grin. Sadly, nothing happened.
Lanan stood still. Her smile relaxed, amused. It annoyed Senri she did not equal a threat to this woman. “Just how old do you think I am?” Lanan asked.
“I know you’re too old to be going after village girls.” Senri felt this answer would be good enough, that it would somehow shame Lanan. The woman laughed and Senri’s anger burned hotter.
“Senri,” Nat yelled.
She blinked and realized the stick she held was engulfed in flame. “Oh no!” she said. She tried to will the fire away. Lanan laughed harder. Nat attempted to find some cloth to smother it with. Finally, Senri lost control and extinguished the fire, leaving a smoldering, ruined stump of wood in her grasp. She stared at it, blinking through the thick darkness. Smoke curled off the ashy tip. It would not light again. Nothing would sustain it. She turned and threw the useless chunk as hard as she could. The grass swished and cracked as it landed somewhere around them. She looked into the utter darkness of the field and sighed.
“Great,” she said. She turned and looked around. Nat stood by, fixing his shirt that he had almost torn off to smother the fire with. Her eyes eventually caught the distant glimmer of a fire, the one she had started. “There’s camp,” she said, pointing to the light. She walked toward it without waiting for the others.
Nat and Lanan moved through the grass behind her. She tried to ignore them. “You know, I am only twenty turns,” Lanan said. Senri kept walking.
They returned to the camp in silence. Yahn stood from his spot by the fire as soon as he heard them approaching. “Well, you better have felled a great beast for as long as that took.” Nat tossed him the bundle of rabbits. Yahn caught it and held the meager prize up to inspect it. “That’s all?”
“They would have found more if they had not been so preoccupied,” said Senri.
Lanan chuckled and Nat blushed. The sight of his embarrassment made her heart soften a little. She was not used to seeing him uncomfortable in a social situation. Still, she wouldn’t forgive him yet and instead made her way over to her unfinished tent. With the light of the fire, she finished assembling it much quicker and hauled her supplies into its confines. She tied the thin cloth flap shut, an illusion of privacy. She pushed and stomped at the grass inside her tent in hopes of making it into a mattress, then grabbed her rucksack and tugged her blanket out. The cloth was heavy, hand-stitched by her mother for this journey. It flattened the grass out as she smoothed it over the ground.
Senri lay down on it and sighed. It was much more comfortable out here than it had been on the forest dirt. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She felt tired. Then again, she had good reason to be. The day had stretched on too long and sh
e had lost control of that flame in a way she had never done before. The way the heat had surged over the wood upset her. The flame had eaten away everything, but it still burned. It thrived on the very air around them, growing, consuming. Senri knew she could have expanded the flame into an enveloping explosion of heat if she had wanted. The depths of her power scared her.
“Hey Senri,” Nat’s voice sounded from right outside her tent flap. “Did your mother pack any spices for you? This rabbit is going to taste awful otherwise.”
“Hold on,” Senri said. If he had approached with any other need, she might have turned him away out of spite. “I’m sure there is some in my bag.” She grabbed her sack and stuck her hand in.
“Hello,” said Nat, poking his head inside the tent. She pulled one wrong item out of the sack before losing patience and tipping it over onto her blanket, the contents scattering everywhere. “Find it yet?”
Senri looked down into the pile of her things and grabbed a small, sealed jar. “Here are the mixed spices. Are we roasting them or making stew?”
“Stew,” said Nat. She made a face. “I know, but there’s not enough meat to go around.”
“And whose fault is that?” Senri grinned.
“I don’t know what you mean.” Nat exited the tent and Senri followed, her stomach grumbling. Nat handed the spice jar off to Yahn and Senri settled down by the fire. She stared into the center of the flames, letting the heat wash over her body.
“Mind if I sit beside you?”
Senri looked up to see Lanan standing next to her, a hopeful look on her face. “Go ahead.” Lanan smiled and sat down beside her. Senri automatically tensed in her presence. She found Lanan threatening, but forced herself to relax. Lanan was supposed to be her ally, and seemed to want peace between them.
“I didn’t mean to upset you back in the village,” Lanan said. Senri stared at the fire. “But it’s odd that you lay claim to that girl when she obviously doesn’t return the affection.” She probably meant for the words to sound harmless, but Senri winced.
“I’ll wait for her,” she said.
Lanan laughed. “You see, I don’t understand that about you. There is so much more out there and you are transfixed on one simple village girl.”
“There was no one else in the village. Vella and Nat are the only two people close to my age. It’s hard to imagine who else could be out there.” Senri pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them close.
“There are a lot of people. Trust me,” said Lanan.
Instead of fetching the iron support rods, Yahn and Nat scooped their hands into the earth and pulled up columns of slowly solidifying rock, four surrounding the fire. They then worked to create a vented top to rest on the columns. They pulled their creation from the earth, loose dirt falling away from it, and set it down over the fire. They then rested the cauldron on top of it.
“Now that is a stove,” said Nat, eyeing their handiwork.
“What did you two do?” asked Valk. His gruff voice pierced the calm that had fallen over them. He eyed the earthen stovetop, shook his head, and sat down by the fire, muttering something about proper ways of practice.
“The stew is cooking, right?” said Yahn. Senri could already smell the spices mixing with the vegetables and rabbit.
“Just wait until I get you back to the training grounds,” said Valk. “You’ll wish all you had to make were fancy stovetops.” He turned to look at Nat. The young man gulped. “You should learn when it is appropriate to use your talent. Our abilities are a gift, and it is to be treated as such, not a tool to bend to your whim.”
While Valk lecture the two men, Lanan leaned over and whispered in Senri’s ear, “He’s a little old-fashioned.” Senri nodded.
“Did your mentors even teach you the origin of your powers?” asked Valk. He looked between both Senri and Nat.
“Of course,” said Senri. “Our abilities are a gift from the Almighty.” Though her instruction had been vague at best, Senri wanted to defend what training she had.
“Yes, the full story does start out with the Almighty blessing us with power. But it only gave them to a select few.”
“Prepare yourself,” whispered Lanan. “I won’t begrudge you if you fall asleep on me.”
Senri discreetly shoved her. “I’m sure it’s interesting,” she whispered back. With Valk sitting on the opposite side of the crackling fire, it was easier for them to get away with the small gestures and quiet conversation.
“The Almighty granted six abilities to six different humans. To the first one, it granted the knowledge of the earth so that this human might build a foundation for their civilization.” Nat and Yahn gestured at their creation. Valk shook his head. “To the second, the Almighty gave dominion over water so that the humans could thrive on the newly shaped land.”
“That’s me,” Lanan whispered. Senri stared at her and raised an eyebrow. “The siren of the seas.” Senri struggled not to laugh.
“The third was granted dominion over all plant-life so that the Almighty’s creations could sustain themselves with the land.” He looked over at Senri. “The fourth was blessed with the heartbeat of the earth, fire, and the heat burning within all living things so that humans would always know the connection they shared with the world. The fifth human was blessed with the winds so that natural forces never eradicated the Almighty’s work.” He paused, looking at each of his students in turn. “And the last human was granted control over illness and health to guard against the spread of plague.”
Senri had never heard of this ability. Shaman healers wandered through the village occasionally, but she never thought their power stemmed from the same source.
“These six were the original source, our ancestors. Over time, they sired children and spread their power through to the next generation, for centuries and centuries until now, where the power has manifested itself in us.” Valk finished with a grin. He reached for a bowl and ladle and Senri removed the hot lid from the cauldron, the burning iron pleasant to her touch.
“But the original earth guy was supposed to build foundations for society,” said Nat, grabbing his own bowl. “Wouldn’t you say this creation is a return to my ancestor’s roots?”
Valk shook his head. “Pups. You have no understanding for the nuances of our traditions. The select few given your training are an honored kind. The Warriors are the greatest defense of Osota.”
“Not everyone gets as worked up as him,” Lanan whispered.
Senri grabbed their bowls and poured out stew for each of them. She handed Lanan her bowl and took her own. The stew smelled good. It tasted good. That opinion could be aided by the lack of other food to eat though. They ate in silence for a long while.
Valk stood and brushed the grass from his trousers when he finished. “I’m turning in,” he said. “The rest of you should do the same. We will ride with the morning’s light.” Senri could feel the tension ease between the rest of them as he walked over to his far away tent and disappeared inside it.
“Get used to the lectures,” said Yahn. “He’s fond of giving them.”
“He is very...intense,” said Nat.
“He’s an excellent fighter, one of the fiercest I’ve seen,” said Yahn. “He is stuck in the old ways though.” He adopted a mimic of Valk’s voice, “‘Warriors fight, civilians produce.’ He told me that when I made clay bowls on a field assignment one time. I told him he could eat dinner off the ground.”
Senri laughed with the others. She shook her head and looked up at the stars. They shone brightly over the open plain, each one winking in and out of focus as her gaze travelled across them. The whole sky seemed to open up over her, like it would swallow her whole at any moment. “It’s too big out here,” she muttered.
“Then you’ll be relieved when we reach the tight confines of the city,” said Nat.
“We should be there any day now,” said Lanan. She studied the stars as well. “We need to get some rest.”
Senri
nodded. She knew the tendrils of sleep lingered close in her mind, waiting to pull her under as soon as she lay down. “Sleep sounds good. Anyone else need the fire?” Senri asked.
Everyone shook their heads. She leaned forward and tried to extinguish the flame like she had done with the torch out in the field. It resisted her and she frowned. She had not played with extinguishing heat before, but she had imagined it would be a simple process to duplicate. All she managed to do was make the flames rise higher. Nat noticed her struggling and nodded to her. She withdrew her hands and he smothered the flames in earth. It took her a minute to adjust her eyes to the darkness. Now only the stars cast their light on them. Senri crawled off to her tent, muttering goodnight.
***
Alina paced up and down her room, hands clenched at her side and brow furrowed. “They cannot keep treating me like this.”
“Treat you how, your Highness?” asked Nin. She sat altering one of Alina’s new dresses in the corner.
“Like I am an incompetent child,” she growled. “It’s better if they believe me harmless, but this behavior? You would think they fear me starting a war!” She stopped her pacing and turned to glare at Nin. “Do they think I am that misinformed?”
“Perhaps they believe you are too well informed, Highness,” said Nin, pulling a green thread through the emerald dress. “Perhaps they wish to bar you from negotiations in an attempt to keep you out of power.” This was the third time in two days Alina had been sent away from a discussion concerning trade and alliances with other kingdoms. It seemed the Council always discussed a ‘sensitive issue’ too complex for her.
Alina shook her head and began to lap her room again. “No, that gives them too much credit. It would be better if they feared me for my competency, but not by much. And why do they fear me making a mess of things when they have done a fine job of letting the heartland slip into decline on its own?” This was a particularly enraging point for Alina. “I don’t understand why they trust this Lord Demek so much. Everywhere I look, poor people are clinging to the skirts of the wealthy, begging for bread. If that were not embarrassing enough, the city of Osota itself is falling apart.”
Warrior Page 4