Recreance (The Aeternum Chronicles Book 1)

by H. G. Chambers

Clack clack clack thwump!

  “Ah!” Oren rubbed his shoulder, panting hard.

  Khalil showed signs of exertion as well, which was rare. He held his sheath to Oren’s neck. “You were doing well Sa’di. It is a shame you are so easily distracted.” Khalil looked at him flatly. “You may begin by collecting firewood and food for dinner. See if you can find something other than keraba roots, yes?”

  Oren sighed, performed the bao quan, and set about his tasks.

  When evening came, the smell of sizzling meat wafted over their small campsite. Oren had gotten lucky, nabbing not one but two desert hares in the early afternoon. Neither had an exorbitant amount of meat, but they were a treat none the less. When Khalil saw the catch, he produced two fat yams from his pack, which Oren cut up and threw into a pot of water over the fire. He turned the makeshift spit as Khalil sat on a nearby stone.

  The hares were nearly finished and Oren’s mouth was watering. This promised to be a better meal than they’d had in weeks. Something stirred at the other end of the camp behind Oren; he turned to look over his shoulder, and blinked. Clem was up on her crutches, and coming toward them.

  Oren looked at Khalil and raised his eyebrows. They had placed a third sitting stone around the fire, but Oren gave up on ever expecting her to use it. She made her way over to the stone and lowered herself down, leaning her crutches against the side of it. They sat in silence for a long moment before Khalil spoke.

  “I am pleased that you have chosen to join us, Clementine.”

  “Thank you, Khalil,” she responded politely, “It is good to be out of my shelter. The night sky is truly…prodigious.”

  Oren watched with furrowed brows, trying to figure out what she meant.

  Khalil responded, “Indeed. The Miralaja holds many wonders, not the least of which being the remarkable view of our place in the galaxy.”

  Oren took a moment to look up. The first few stars were beginning to twinkle as the sun dipped behind the mountains.

  Khalil continued, “It occurs to me that despite sharing camp, we have failed to share our reason for being out here. For this, I apologize. But come, let us leave the conversation until after we have dined.”

  Oren pulled the meat from the fire and divided it among three wooden plates while Khalil removed and drained the boiled yams and divvied them up. They each sat in silence, savoring what would surely be the best meal they’d have for a long while.

  Once finished, they sat in silence, enjoying the feeling of being full. Khalil lit his pipe and stretched his legs, gazing into the fire. Oren watched the flames as well, trying to think of what he could say to Clementine. She piped up before he could think of anything good.

  She looked at Khalil and said, “Thank you. That is undoubtedly the best I’ve eaten since I left the city.”

  “It is our mutual friend Oren you should be thanking. It was his resourcefulness that made it possible.”

  Clementine glanced at Oren, but didn’t say anything.

  Khalil continued, “As I mentioned, we have not discussed our reason for leaving the relative safety of home, and venturing so far into the Miralaja.” Oren perked up, having only the slightest idea of why himself.

  Khalil puffed on his pipe. A thin trail of smoke rose from it. “Oren and I are journeying toward New Arcadia. Once there, we plan to infiltrate the Ministry C-SEC.” Clementine was looking at him intently, and Oren sat up.

  “You’re…Ko’jin?” Clem asked.

  Khalil raised an eyebrow, “And what would bring you to this conclusion?”

  Clem looked away. She seemed a little embarrassed by her impulsiveness. “Oh, it’s just that, I know the Ko’jin have been…in conflict with the Ministry, and not many people stand up to them. No one else does, actually.” She recalled her final conversation with Hatch, and felt another pang of regret for not staying behind to help him.

  Khalil nodded. “You are astute, for one so young.”

  Clem sniffed. “Young?” she muttered under her breath.

  “We are Ko’jin,” Khalil stated, gesturing toward himself and Oren.

  Clementine looked at Oren with shock. He returned her gaze flatly.

  “Our mission is to infiltrate C-SEC Tower, and obtain a document containing plans for…something they are building. We cannot say for sure what it is, but we are concerned that it may be some kind of weapon.” Khalil leaned forward and lowered his voice, emphasizing the gravity of his words, “We have reason to believe this device poses a threat so great, that the very existence of our world hangs in the balance.”

  Oren’s face went pale. “Global Ascension.” His voice was barely a whisper.

  Clem looked over to him, then back at Khalil. She clutched at something under her coat and asked, “Do you know a man named Hatch? Hatch Dewanji?” Her voice was shaky.

  Khalil leaned back. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Hatch? One of the best men I have known. He also brews the best tea. Grows it himself, you know. I am quite surprised you are familiar with his true name. Either he trusted you deeply, or something terrible has happened to him.” He looked expectantly at Clementine with concern.

  She looked away. “It’s both, actually,” she said quietly. Her brow furrowed, and she pursed her lips. “We were…attacked. I think…I think it was a Breaker.” She shivered. “He told me to run…and I did. I left him there to die. I should have stayed, I should have helped him fight, but I…he…” Her efforts to hold back her tears were failing.

  Khalil stood and put a hand on her shoulder. “Doha ya doha, tifl latif.”

  She took a few ragged breaths. Khalil seemed to have calmed her somewhat.

  Gently, he said, “Hatch is a resourceful man. I would not be surprised to learn that he found a way to survive. Do not punish yourself needlessly.”

  Clem looked up at him. Her face was blotchy. “You…you think he could be alive? That thing, it was so strong. The things they can do…”

  “I think it is possible, and I know you would not be alive had you stayed with him.”

  Clem took another deep breath and continued, “I think Hatch…that he was Ko’jin too. Before it happened, he asked me to do a job for him. I said no, but it seemed really important to him, and he’d helped me so much…” She sighed.

  “A job?” Khalil asked when she did not continue.

  She nodded. “Infiltrate C-SEC Tower and steal a hidden canister.”

  “He asked you to do this?” Khalil was shocked. “He must have been desperate indeed to have risked your life in this way.”

  “Hey! I can take care of myself okay? It’s not like it was the first place I’d ever gaffed.” She crossed her arms.

  It was Oren’s turn to be surprised. Khalil was right. She had grown in ways he hadn’t expected. “You rob people?” he blurted out before realizing how it sounded.

  She turned to face him, thoroughly unimpressed. “So what if I do? If you had stuck around maybe you’d have seen that I didn’t have much of a choice.”

  Oren winced.

  “At least not to begin with,” she muttered.

  Clem turned back to Khalil.

  “As I was saying, I can take care of myself, and that’s exactly what I did,” she said defensively.

  Khalil nodded. “Obviously you have survived, which speaks volumes for your capabilities.”

  Clem sat up a little straighter and nodded.

  He continued, “Tell me, were you successful?”

  Clem hesitated, looking from Khalil to Oren. She nodded.

  “Incredible,” Khalil smiled, “Then you have beaten us to it! Well done, Clementine.”

  “Before Hatch…before we parted, he asked me to bring it to a town at the foot of the Shattered Peak Mountains, toward the lowest star in the Jackal’s Head constellation.”

  “You mean Masada, right? That’s where we came from.” Oren was glad to have something useful to contribute.

  She nodded at him.

  “Then we can return together!
This is great news!” Oren grinned.

  Clementine looked at him with one eyebrow raised.

  “I mean, ah, great that you got the plans, and now we can head home.” Oren stammered, running a hand through his hair.

  Clementine rolled her eyes.

  Khalil was watching her. “This is most fortuitous. May we see it?” he asked.

  Again Clem hesitated, then slowly pulled the tube out of her coat pocket and held it up to the firelight. Khalil nodded for her to continue. She pulled the cap off, removed the schematics, and held them up. The firelight flickered through the complex technical patterns printed on the large transparent film.

  “Incredible,” Khalil said gravely. “We must get these to her with great haste.”

  “Her?” Oren asked.

  “Al’ama,” Khalil cursed under his breath. He took a deep breath and turned to Oren. “We must take these plans to Magdalene Medeia.”

  “What?” Oren’s jaw dropped. “She’s alive?”

  Clementine nodded. “That’s what Hatch said, too. It was his last request. It’s why I’m here.”

  Oren’s shock wore off, and was replaced with fury. He stood up and faced Khalil. “I can’t believe you! How could you keep this from me?”

  Khalil looked at him calmly. “I did not raise it because I knew it would be difficult for you. It is a distraction.”

  “Oh no, don’t you try to play this off like you were doing me a favor. You”—Oren pointed—“didn’t tell me because you didn’t want to have to deal with the fallout. Well that’s just fine, great to know we’re keeping secrets from each other. I’ve got a few secrets of my own you know. Maybe I’ll spring them on you when you least expect it.” He picked up his sword and stormed off into the night.

  Clementine watched his silhouette fade.

  Khalil took a deep breath. “He will be fine. He just needs some time to cool off.”

  “What was that all about?” she asked.

  “Did he not tell you?” Khalil looked at her questioningly.

  “Tell me what?”

  Khalil sighed. “Oren lost his parents. They were killed by the Ministry, two years ago.”

  Clementine covered her mouth.

  “The Ministry sought retribution for the recreance of a close family member.”

  “Magdalene?” Clem whispered.

  Khalil nodded. “Before now, Oren had no knowledge of what had become of her.” He took a drink from his canteen. “To be honest, he is partly right. I did fear how he might react, and it appears my fears were not unfounded. I just wish I had not been so clumsy in revealing her existence.”

  “That’s why he left New Arcadia?”

  Khalil nodded. “He didn’t want to leave, but staying would have meant his death.”

  Clementine sank from the edge of her sitting stone onto the ground. She leaned back and pressed her palm to her forehead. “Oy.”

  “Do not despair. Oren is more resilient than most, and he now has something that will drive him forward through any adversity,” Khalil said confidently.

  “What’s that,” asked Clem.

  “Purpose.”

  They sat watching the crackling fire with no further conversation. As it burned low, Khalil finally broke the silence. “You should get some rest. I will wait up for Sa’di. Once you have recovered, we will head straight for the Wyrewood. There we will find Magdalene, and with luck, some answers.”

  Clem took a deep breath and pushed herself up, collecting her crutches. She hobbled over to her lean-to and crawled inside.

  15

  Defiance

  Far to the south, many miles west of New Arcadia, the rocky dry terrain gave way to sparse grass, and eventually trees. After weeks of travel, they had finally reached the Wyrewood. A cool breeze blew down from the Shattered Peak Mountains, disturbing the leaves of the large, deciduous wood.

  “The trees,” Oren said, looking straight up. They climbed to dizzying heights, green tops reaching toward the sky. “They’re enormous.” The only replies he received were birdsong from high above. It had been three weeks since Clem was able to walk again, and they were making good time.

  The early morning sun cast dappled light on the forest floor. Its eerie yellow glow burned the dew from the foliage below, creating a thin mist.

  Clem blew on her hands for warmth and wrapped her arms around her body.

  Oren looked up to see Khalil jogging back toward them. “We have only a day’s journey left before we reach our destination.”

  Oren wasn’t eager to see Magdalene, but he was certainly ready for a change of pace. For whatever reason, Clementine had been completely ignoring him. Granted this was nothing new, but now it had become all but absolute.

  After all the effort I put in, trying to show her I’m still her friend...I guess she really has changed, he thought.

  Clem hiked ahead of him at a brisk pace. She barely even looked at him anymore, and when she did, she stared right through him. She was polite enough to Khalil, but something there had changed too. It was like they had some kind of unspoken agreement. Oren couldn’t help but wonder what they discussed the night he stormed off into the desert.

  They made their way across the leaf-carpeted ground, climbing over the occasional fallen log. Some bore strange fungal formations that retreated into the rotting bark as they approached, and slowly emerged again after they’d passed.

  It struck Oren how everything here seemed so alive compared to the Miralaja. The sounds of the birds and insects were hypnotic, creating the sensation of a waking dream.

  He was snapped out of his reverie by Khalil’s voice. The sun was directly above, and he could hardly remember the morning passing at all.

  “We will break here. Sa’di, this wood is teeming with life. You should have no trouble sourcing our evening meal.” He paused, scanning the surroundings. “Do not let your guard down. The Wyrewood may not hold as many natural dangers as the Miralaja, but there are other deadly and unnatural things about.”

  “Yes, Sifu,” he responded evenly. Their relationship had become so formal lately. Oren wasn’t sure if it was his fault, or if it had something to do with their mission. Maybe it’s both, he thought.

  He untied a long, slender length of white wood from the side of his pack. The bùxiû tree turned out to be quite the find. With Khalil’s guidance, Oren was able to re-purpose one of the discarded crutches into a bow. The material was incredibly strong, but flexible and light. When Clementine saw him working on it, she immediately demanded that Khalil teach her to make one as well. After the bows were split bent and sanded, Khalil held early evening training sessions, instructing Oren and Clem on how to aim and shoot properly. Oren wasn’t half bad, but he had to admit Clem was far better. She was so good in fact, that Khalil wasn’t convinced she’d never used one before.

  Oren set his pack down and pulled a string from it. He wrapped the string around a notch in each end of the bow, pulling it tight. He then took a bundle of arrows from his pack, along with a quiver made from stiff agaza skin. These were Khalil’s work. His expert craftsmanship was visible in the straight, smooth arrows and well-shaped quiver. Oren ran his thumb along the clayfowl feathers threaded through one of the arrows.

  “We continue in one hour,” Khalil said, looking up toward the sun.

  “Yes Sifu,” Oren responded while pulling his bow over his shoulder and belting on the quiver. He turned east and jogged into the forest without looking back.

  Khalil hadn’t been wrong. These woods hosted an abundance of wildlife, and it didn’t take Oren long to spot a roost of pheasants. He tested the air and maneuvered himself downwind of the birds. He crept toward them slowly, notching an arrow. He was seconds from flushing them out when a twig snapped behind him. He instinctively spun and fired an arrow at the dark figure in his peripheral. Thwump. His arrow sank into a nearby tree, and the pheasants behind him scattered.

  “Hey!” a voice called out from behind the tree, and Clem stepped out. “A
re you crazy? You could have killed me!”

  “You shouldn’t have followed me,” he responded coolly, and walked over to pull out the arrow.

  Clem sighed. “I need to talk to you.”

  Oren tugged at the arrow, which was well stuck. “Funny, you haven’t seemed all that interested in talking for the past three weeks we’ve been traveling together. At this point, I don’t think I have anything to say.”

  Clem rolled her eyes, “Fine then, you can listen,” she put her hands on her hips. “Stubborn oaf,” she muttered.

  Oren continued to pull, without much luck.

  “That night, when you found out about Magdalene—”

  Oren turned his attention from the arrow to glare at her, then began working at it again.

  She continued, “After you left…Khalil told me about your family.” She looked down at the ground.

  Oren forgot about freeing the arrow and turned to her. “Great! Another betrayal from my so called friend.”

  “He is your friend, and you ought to think twice before you dismiss the fact. People who genuinely care about you are few and far between in this world. I should know.”

  Oren yanked hard, and the arrow finally came free. “You don’t know anything about what I’ve been through. I had people who cared about me. People who loved me more than anything, and they were taken from me. What was taken from you? You didn’t even have anyone to lose.” He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Clem’s pained expression led him to second-guess himself, but then he remembered how she’d been treating him these past weeks.

  He broke the awkward silence, “So you found out about my family and decided to pretend I don’t exist. Fantastic.”

  “Will you shut up and listen for once?” Clem’s hurt was replaced with her usual impatience. She took a deep breath. “Look, I’ve spent most of my life running. It’s the only reason I’ve made it this far. It’s what I do, how I survive. I’ve been ignoring you because…” she paused, and Oren looked at her, waiting. “Boil it. I’m no good at swallowing my pride, Oren. I admit it; it’s a weakness.” She pushed her hair back behind her ear, stalling.