by Matt Russell
Age of Asango
Book II
Matt Russell
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ISBN – 978-1-7328192-3-8
For my all five of my children.
Lilly, for filling my life with light,
Mattie, for making me laugh in the throes of massive sleep deprivation,
Jerry, for being willing to hang out with your nerdy dad,
Cirrus, because we all need a talker like you in our lives to smooth over the frustrations,
And for Soular, for being cleaner than any of us.
Chapter 1:
A Return to the Temple
The education of the shamalak boy was challenging at times, and yet I never felt out of patience. He was very clever, if not quite brilliant, but what allowed him to progress through the rigorous education I laid out for him was a pure love of knowledge and the heart to work through difficulty. No matter how hard I bore down on him, he never grew bitter or complained. Always he pushed himself to be better, and always he became better.
---Taken from the Memoir of Master Bendick
of the Lucinian Order
Darius stared down the grassy hill in wonder at Kota's quick, elegant movements. The young swordsman danced around his tattooed opponent, whipping his training sword in a liquid series of clanking parries. Kota wielded the weapon as if it were utterly weightless. The brave little shamalak boy who had saved his life four and a half years ago had become a tall, broad-shouldered mass of corded muscle. He was wearing pants, but no shirt and Darius could see sweat dripping down his golden brown skin, all over his face, and around the sparse hair that grew from his thick pectoral muscles.
It took Darius a moment to recognize Kota's sparring partner. It was Glavius Denthar, whom Gretis had been training when Kota first came to the temple. The Onkai was grinning as if the two of them were playing a game. To him, perhaps it was a game. As Darius and some of the other legends of the past generation had aged out of their prime, Glavius had assumed the mantle of the finest swordsman in the order. Otho's letters had trailed on more than once of how the ‘young bull’ could trounce anyone in a duel. He was not trouncing Kota though. He was moving in and delivering quick successions of strikes, all of which Kota strained fiercely to parry. Glavius would then back off, giving the shamalak time to rest.
"Kota's footwork is beyond superb," Darius said as he watched the shamalak dodge back from a lateral slash. "You must be working him very hard."
"Harder than I ever worked any of you," Gretis said. She was standing next to him, her arms folded across her chest. She wore an ash colored tunic and matching loose pants with at least one blade he could see strapped to her belt. There was a focused grin on her face as her dark eyes shifted here and there to follow Kota's movements. Gretis had scarcely seemed to age at all in the years since they had last seen each other. Her skin was still smooth and flawless, and her build was as athletic as ever.
"I imagine from the way he is moving that you have begun to imbue him with the mysterious power of Sansrit Philosophy."
"Actually no," she said, moving a little closer to Darius and lowering her voice. "That is pure muscle and skill. I have not unlocked a shred of the power that lies within that boy."
The power that lies within... Darius blinked at the young inhuman fighter, considering how little he knew of the secrets of Lady Gretis's abilities. Kota seemed to finally notice that there was an unexpected guest. He darted back from Glavius and lowered his sword, signaling a pause in the match. Then he looked at Darius with a grin that seemed to come from the depths of his heart and shouted: "DARIUS!" He waved an open hand. There was no longer any trace of accent in his voice.
"Hello, my friend," Darius shouted, his arm rising to return the wave. He found it surprising how much he had looked forward to this reunion. After such a long time away, Darius had come here before returning to the central temple.
"Greetings, Legate Darius!" Glavius shouted, giving a respectful bow. Darius had known the young man only a little during his time in the central temple, but he had appreciated Glavius's friendly cockiness back then. He found himself grinning at the fact that some of that same bravado echoed in the young captain's voice now.
"Good to see you, captain," he called back.
Kota moved to set down his training sword on a nearby tree stump, but Gretis shouted in a hard voice: "I do not believe I gave you permission to break training."
"Sorry, ma'am," Kota said, the bright, friendly smile never leaving his face as he raised his blunted weapon back up and returned his attention to Glavius.
"How does his academic education progress?" Darius said as the two opponents resumed their dance of steel.
"Quite well, I am told. I give Kota an hour to read every day, and he never fails to use the time. He likes learning history, but Master Bendick is particularly impressed with his aptitude for mathematics. Overall, Kota is one of the finest academics in the school." She turned her head toward Darius. "How have you been, my former pupil? Tell me of your life at the southern temple."
"The southern temple," Darius said in a slow whisper. He had suspected for a long time that his appointment as head of the Onkai's southern headquarters had come at Gretis's urging. It was a clear stepping stone toward one day becoming bishop, which both excited and frightened him. "The temple is much smaller than here, and quite a bit more rustic. The men are extremely disciplined, which makes my job easy." He watched Kota counter one of Glavius's onslaughts with a beautifully executed upward slash that the Onkai managed to only narrowly dodge.
"Kota has missed you. His face lights up every time we receive one of your letters."
Darius stared at his shamalak friend, and an old fear returned to his mind. "How much longer before you make him truly dangerous?"
"Not long," Gretis said with a sigh. "His training is progressing far faster than I expected. In truth, he's the most talented swordsman I have ever seen." She chuckled. "He has no idea how good he is. He only ever spars against individuals far stronger than himself."
Darius swallowed. Gretis had been tutoring the finest swordsmen in the Onkai order for nearly twenty years. Such praise from her was not to be taken lightly. The thought that Kota could become a monster—a killer even more dangerous than her notorious son, Soulic—was terrifying. In a somber tone, he said: "I hope you know what you're doing.”
"So do I," she whispered back, and there was a cadence of quiet fear in her voice. Before Darius could say anything Gretis shouted: "Kota, you may break for the afternoon!"
Kota looked up at her and called back: "Thank you!" and as he did, Glavius dashed at him in a blur of speed. He tackled Kota, and the two of them rolled around in the grass for a few seconds until Glavius rose back up with his victim in a headlock.
As Kota bucked and thrashed against the hold, Glavius looked up to Darius and said with a hearty laugh: "I'm sorry, sir. I've done the best I could with him, but this shamalak just can't seem to learn anything." Kota's hand snaked up to Glavius's throat, but the Onkai caught it by the wrist. Darius noted that Kota was laughing as well, even a
s Glavius dropped him to the ground and twisted his arm up behind his back. "I think it's his inferior intellect. Every time I try to teach him a new move, he grows confused and then sees a grasshopper or something and runs off to eat it. It's really very hopeless and—AHH!" Glavius yanked his hand away, and Kota rose up. His claws were extended and, from the way Glavius was gripping his wrist, it was apparent how the shamalak had used them.
Kota spun and delivered a jabbing punch to Glavius's cheekbone. It was a blow that might have left a nasty bruise on a normal man but would serve as little more than an irritation to a fully tattooed Onkai. Still, it granted Kota the chance to dart away, which he did. Glavius recovered quickly and ran after him, shouting: "Nice one, but it ain't that easy!" The two of them fell into a brief chase before Glavius managed to tackle Kota again.
Darius chuckled: "I see he's been making friends."
"Of course he has," Gretis sighed. "It's impossible for anyone with a half decent heart not to like Kota once they get to know him."
The two combatants wrestled around on the ground for a moment, and then Glavius rose and helped Kota up. The two of them picked up their training swords and carried them back to Gretis's house and then came bounding back up the grassy hill together. Glavius spoke first, pressing his right fist into his left palm and bowing as he said in a sharp voice: "Legate."
"Captain," Darius said with a nod. He might consider taking the young captain back south with him.
"I'll see you at the temple, sir," Glavius said as he lifted his gaze. He turned and broke into a jog in the direction of the town.
"It is good to see you again," the shamalak said in a surprisingly deep voice. He held out a golden brown hand, claws retracted. He had grown so tall!
"Good to see you, old friend," Darius said. He clutched Kota's hand and stared at the silver eyes. There still seemed the be the same kindness and honesty in them that Darius had grown so fond of years ago. "I am due for a meeting with Bishop Otho, but shall we go for a quick trip to the tavern? I would be happy to buy you a drink."
Kota tensed a little and looked at Gretis. She chuckled and said: "I am afraid students of the Sansrit path are forbidden to consume alcohol."
"I suppose that is sensible," Darius said. He had witnessed Gretis's truly lethal strength and speed more than once. It would be unwise for one with such power to become inebriated. Darius had heard that Starborn by and large refrained from alcohol for such reasons. He smiled and said: "Just a bit of food then."
Gretis tossed a silver coin very suddenly to Kota, and his hand whipped out with lightning speed and snatched it from the air. "My treat," she said.
"I thank you," Darius said with a nod.
Gretis smiled at him and then turned and sauntered toward her home, and he and Kota began to walk toward Temple Town. After they had gone only a short way, Kota said: "Lady Gretis tells me you are going to be the next bishop."
"Does she?" Darius said with a sharp laugh. "How incredibly forward of her."
Kota turned to him, frowning. "You have reservations. I thought you might."
"Really?" Darius said, surprised.
"Maybe I don't know what I'm talking about," Kota said, swallowing. "I'm sorry. It isn't my place to speak of such things."
"Speak your mind, please." He felt curious as to what insights his shamalak friend might have.
"If you wish," Kota said, his voice becoming low and serious. "You are thirty-three, correct?"
"Yes."
"And you received your tattoos at the age of fifteen. That means you will reach the point of recession in two years."
Darius turned and gazed at the young man. Kota was correct of course. The magic energies trapped in his tattoos would begin to wane soon. In less than two years, he would be forced to make a choice: renew his runes and commit another twenty years of his life to the order or retire. This had been at the center of his thoughts for quite some time.
"You believe I want to leave the Onkai Order?"
Kota frowned. "Again, I do not think it is my place—"
"Come off it. We are old friends."
Kota nodded as if to himself, then said: "You strike me as the kind of man who wants to be a father. You remind me of my father very much."
Darius felt a little surge in his stomach. Kota had guessed precisely at what had been troubling him. "Yes. If I become bishop, I cannot marry."
"You could eventually," Kota said with the slightest of shrugs. "Lady Gretis told me once that she is certain Otho will ask her to marry him when he retires." He leaned in a little closer and whispered in a playful voice: "She confessed she is not sure what she will say."
"Hah!" Darius laughed. The thought of the great Otho and Lady Gretis living together as husband and wife in some quiet home struck him somehow as horribly funny.
"I think you would be a very good father, Darius," Kota said.
"Thank you," Darius said, his face swelling into a smile. He could not think of a higher compliment. "What about you? Do you intend to return to your people and take a wife?"
"I don't know," Kota said with a grunting laugh. "Sansrit Philosophy does not require celibacy. I could... In my heart, I wish to have a family."
Darius felt his own heart ache just a little at these words. He could become the leader of the Onkai Order— have power and respect throughout the human world and go down in history as a renowned figure, or he could live for his own happiness. This thought lingered as they came to the edge of Temple Town.
"Hey, Kota!" a child of perhaps seven years in simple rough-spun clothes shouted as they stepped onto the main street. The boy threw a carved wooden ball through the air at Kota, and his left hand snapped out and caught it. He tossed it back, and the boy tried to intercept it with outstretched hands but dropped it on the ground.
"Keep practicing," Kota said.
Darius grinned. He watched the way the town's people seemed to regard the shamalak in their presence. By and large, they did not seem frightened or revolted as they had years ago. Only a few of them even bothered to glance at him.
Kota moved through the crowd, seeming relaxed and at home. He led Darius to a large wooden stand behind which stood an old woman with straw-like gray hair. She was hunched over a wood-burning oven trying to stoke the fire with a thick wooden stick.
"Hello, Agatha," Kota said. "May I please help you?"
The old woman turned around, her wizened eyes lighting up. "Oh, Kota, you are so sweet," she said, tilting her head to the side and giving him a warm smile. "Oh, you have a guest." She looked up at Darius and said: "Hello, Onkai warrior."
"Hello," Darius said, nodding in respect to the elder.
The old woman strained to give a little curtsy, then turned back to Kota. "The oven is being difficult again." She looked up at Darius and said: "Sometimes Kota helps me with things. He is such a kind young man."
Darius thought he could almost see the shamalak's bronze skin flush. "It's no problem," Kota said, and he dropped under the counter and crawled on hands and feet to the stove. Then he took the stick from Agatha and manipulated the smoldering logs out from under the oven and began to fish out a sizable collection of ash and debris from inside the bottom chamber. Eventually, he took hold of a tattered brush and proceeded to clean with it. When Kota finally finished, he maneuvered the still slightly burning chunks of wood back in and blew on them until they were piping hot.
"All better," he said, crawling quickly back out from under the counter and rising. He brushed the soot from his hands on the bottom of his shirt and then fished into a pocket and came back with the silver coin Gretis had given him. "Two pies please."
"Oh no, Kota, let me treat you and your friend today," the old woman said, reaching out and closing his fingers around the coin.
"All right," Kota said with a smile. When Agatha turned to retrieve a fresh pair of pies still smoking from the oven, he smoothly slipped the silver coin into the little box that rested at
the edge of her counter. The woman turned back around with two masses of bread clutched in mittens that smelled of meat and spiced gravy, and Kota's right hand reached out, hooked claws fully extended. He took a pie with his talons, skillfully keeping the steaming food away from his skin. Darius reached out, his own hand sheathed in the safety of a leather glove and took his pie. It smelled utterly delicious. In the southern temple, he had been forced to survive on the meager, tasteless rations the monks provided.
"Don't eat it for a few minutes," the old woman said, looking into Darius's eyes. "Let it cool until you can just touch it with your tongue without flinching. The flavor is best that way."
"I will. Thank you, my lady."
The old woman blushed just a little and said: "It is always an honor to serve an Onkai."
They left Agatha’s stand, and when they were far enough away that she would not hear, Darius said: "I see you have made still more friends while I was away."
"In my tribe, it is a great honor to be of service to the elders. I suppose I am still driven to be a good shamalak." He cast a quick glance back at the old woman and said: "Agatha doesn't have anyone to take care of her. Her husband and sons died in the last demon war. I don't like that she has to wake up and bake every day just to keep herself fed and sheltered. She's a very kind lady—one of the first in this town to treat me like a person."
Darius pursed his lips. Elderly humans who had little or no money and no family to take care of them did not fare well in the empire. The Vestilite Order would at least give them bread, but such people were not likely to live out their final years in any kind of comfort or dignity.
"She is lucky to have a friend like you." He took an experimental bite of the pie. It was still a bit hot but tasted as delicious as it smelled.
Kota began to carefully consume his own pastry. They stood on the side of the street and ate together for a few moments without speaking, and then they both pulled handkerchiefs from their pockets and wiped their faces clean. When they were finished, Darius moved toward the temple and Kota followed.