Janus and Oblivion

by Noam Oswin

  Typical that it would be those three that would complain first. Daydreamer was blinking, but he did not seem unused to the method of awakening. Pervert two and three were giving her a cold glare. Coward one and two immediately leapt up and began to prepare, slacker was still sleeping, criminal looked as though he was contemplating another crime, and junkie merely wiped the water away from his face.

  “You heard the Corporal!” she barked. “Last person goes without dinner! I don’t know about you, but I do not want to starve tonight.” She stomped. “To the field, now!”

  “Fuck you!” Pervert two yelled. “You’re just a fucking recruit like the rest of us! What makes you think you can act so damn high and mighty?”

  “Because I know why I am here.” It was the simple fact. “None of you do.”

  She marched out of the room, and thrust the now empty bucket into the arms of the man she took it from. There was no need to waste breath on people that might not even live to see her in action. She jogged at a leisurely pace, leaving the large hostels provided for new recruits, and taking in a fresh breath of the cold morning air.

  She knew the location of this training camp was Far East of the capital. An expanse of land that existed before the Disremember Woods.

  She reached the Grounds, pleased to see that she was the first one there. Displeased to realize that she would have to wait for everyone else to catch up. She greatly disliked waiting. She greatly disliked inefficiency. They were here for a reason, for the protection of Alhamis from the threats of the Saba’in Hordes, the Gaban Dynasty and the Holy Empire of Maris. These were just the human threats, there still existed the Floater, the Hatsari Mercenaries, and the nightmares.

  She knew why she was here. She wished everyone else did as well.

  Time passed and the first step of the day was attempting to gather the one-seven hundred or so individuals that willingly chose to commit themselves to the AAA, and put them in an organized formation. It was a task that was as difficult as herding cats, as majority of the people here had never been in anything more organized than a queue or a crowd of onlookers before.

  Every single aspect about their body was to be positioned at precise angles. Heels so and so apart, toes pointing this and that way, arms aligned perfectly parallel to the body, gaze forward and unblinking. She practiced, rigorously her basic stances before entering, and it was easy for her to seamlessly excel in such a task.

  They stood within arm’s length of each other, separated into groups of five rows somewhat resembling a rectangular formation if viewed from above. They lined up from tallest to shortest, and she found herself being placed on the slightly below-average side of tall. It was something she did not mind, as she was still growing, and there would be enough time to attain height.

  A dull wooden podium stood before them, the color having clearly faded over time, but still possessing the brilliantly shining insignia of ten five-pointed silver stars encircling a blazing gold sun. There was no mistaking the flag of Alhamis, not after the 4th Eminent of Culture enchanted the sigil to always be visible to those born within its borders.

  A man strode onto the podium. Blonde hair air short and cut, cap on his head, dressed in uniform decorated with three medals and his feet hovering slightly above the floor. A Prominent. Whispers and hushed conversations rushed through the gathered recruits, and indeed, she knew several Middlings had never been fortunate to see a Prominent before, yet alone listen to one speak.

  “Welcome to my training facility! The greatest bloody facility in Alhamis!” The Prominent lacked any device to use and augment his voice, yet, his voice carried across the entire grounds without issue. She knew it was some sort of vocal augmentation spell, but she could not decipher when or how he cast it.

  “Out here in the backyards of the Disremember Woods, this is not only the greatest bloody facility! It is also most effective facility! This facility recycles! It recycles slime, milk-drinkers and human compost into soldiers!” His voice barked. “THIS IS THE AAA! What does that stand for?!”

  “Alhamisian Adventurer Army!” They answered as one, the chant almost deafening.

  “I can’t hear you!”

  “Alhamisian Adventurer Army!” the chant grew even louder, and she forced her voice to elevate.

  “Do you human equivalents of leftovers think you are good enough for my facility?!”

  “Sir yes sir!”

  “LOUDER!”

  “SIR! YES! SIR!”

  “Good!” The Prominent said. “Now, recruits, you have taken the first steps into entering the sacred and respected rank of the Adventurer. Do not hear that word and believe that it is your job to seek adventure – no!”

  “The Adventurer is the protector of the people! The Adventurer is the one who charges to slay creatures of the night so the farmer may farm and the baker may bake! The Adventurer is the one who delves into the Domains of abominations to acquire herbs, so the doctor may heal and the sick child may sleep! Your work here shall be of great value to all of Alhamis!”

  She remembered the tales often sung by minstrels of the Fabled Era. Of the days when Adventurers were the only line of defense against the nightmares, when their tasks often included slaying Elder Drakes to rescue princesses from towers. She found most of it ridiculous. An Elder Drake would sooner melt the skin and bones off the princess and use her femurs as toothpicks than whisk her to some tower to be held hostage. A single man slaying an Elder Drake was even more disconcerting, as that man would have more power than entire nations combined. Frightening, but still nowhere near the Floater.

  “There will be no sugarcoating this. At least half of you will die before the month is over.”

  The air suddenly felt a bit colder. The announcement brought in a deep, uneasy silence. The Prominent turned his sharp silver eyes to the formation, as though waiting for the first person to mutter.

  “You cannot leave the AAA once you have joined.” He began. “Should you fail orientation and AAA drill camp, you are still not permitted to leave the AAA. You may hold no titles while within the AAA. You may have no wives or husbands, hold no land, claim no properties and bare no children while within the AAA, unless otherwise permitted. To desert the AAA is to encounter a deliberate, agonizing suffering for the rest of your existence, to which death is not a respite. To disobey the rules of the AAA is to forsake your every right. Knowing this, do you still desire to join?”

  She knew those words. Everyone here did. Everyone here joined in spite of hearing those words.

  “Do you know why we treat deserters worse than stray dogs?” the Prominent continued. “Why deserters are stripped of their humanity and become objects for the fascination and enjoyment of the masses?”

  No one breathed. No one spoke. She had her guesses, but she could not tell what they were. Her father never told her, nor did her caretaker. It was something that everyone saw and accepted as commonplace. Deserters were tortured and people cheered. No one asked why they deserted, and asking why no one asked why would immediately have you ostracized.

  “To enlist in the AAA is to uncover a secret of this world that should never be told to civilians or those without proper clearance. Deserters are those aware of this secret, and those who have chosen to attempt to benefit from it, or flee in spite of it.”

  Everyone was uneasy. She could feel the pressure and weight of the declaration.

  “At the founding of the Alhamis Empire, the first Ten High Eminents combined their might and eliminated knowledge of this secret from the masses. Today, I, Prominent Lance, Lieutenant of the AAA, Class of the Knight Rank 7, acting under the authority of the High Eminent of War, Hoplite the Heroic, hereby grant these recruits access to the Godscript.”

  The godscript? She had never, not once, heard of such a thing. For several seconds, everyone was uneasy. Everyone waited, wondering what exactly was supposed to happen. No one knew what to expect, nor did she. It was an odd experience to be entirely ignorant of something.

 
; “Repeat after me!” Prominent Lance barked. “Praise the High Eminents, let the Godscript be seen.”

  There was confusion, but everyone did as told. She opened her mouth, and uttered the magic words. “Praise the High Eminents, let the Godscript be seen.”

  Words began to float in her vision.

  [Godscript Activated]

  Bios Screen

  [Class Undetermined]

  Name: Sophia Alphaphilia

  Health: 3750/3750

  Mystic: 3400/3400

  Level: 26

  Age: 18

  Race: Human (Alhamisian)

  Social Status: Upper Middling (Disgraced Prominent)

  Occupation: AAA Recruit

  Title(s): Forgotten Daughter, Black Sheep of the Alphaphilia

  Affiliations: Alhamis Empire, Alphaphilia Family, AAA.

  Base of Operations: Alhamis Empire

  Eminency Test Score: 650/1000.

  Fate Latency Test Classification: Stage-Nine Apparent

  Experience to Next Level: 2332/32,000

  She stared in disbelief at the floating words that hung before her. The damning words in air that were called the Godscript. Around her, she could hear cries of shock, suspicion, and several sharp intake of breaths. She turned her gaze back to the Godscript and could interact with it. She reached out to the floating words, moving her finger upwards as more information that no one should have known revealed itself.

  Attributes

  Strength: 34

  Endurance: 21

  Vitality: 50

  Agility: 97

  Charisma: 35 (–20)

  Intelligence: 49 (+24)

  Mysticism: 64

  Physical Status

  Buffs:

  N/A

  Debuffs:

  N/A

  Flair:

  Zero Encumbrance

  Skills

  Alhamisian Arms Training Lv. 3 [Passive]

  Alhamisian Swordsmanship Lv. 7 [Passive]

  Street Fighting Lv. 9 [Passive]

  Mystic Augmentation Lv. 5 [Passive] [Active]

  Lesser Gravity Magic Lv. 3. [Passive] [Active]

  Spells

  Lesser Slow Lv. 3 [Active]

  Lesser Haste Lv. 9 [Active]

  Greater Lighten Lv. 7 [Active]

  Greater Encumber Lv. 5 [Active]

  Haste Slash Lv. 4 [Active]

  Heavy Blow Lv. 5 [Active]

  She closed the godscript as quickly as she could. Hiding it, ensuring that no one saw the information it revealed. Indeed there was potentially more information, as she was yet to see an end to it. Those in formation beside her failed to realize that she could see their information clear as day. She could read from it and gleam their strengths and their weaknesses, she could –

  The realization snapped her to her senses.

  “Recruits!” the voice of Prominent Lance cut across the murmurs and whispers. “The Godscript displays all! It tells you a person’s history! Life! Strengths and weaknesses! Those who gain the Discerning Eye or the Appraisal Gaze can view even more through the Godscript! They can view your secrets! Your precious desires! Your darkest, twisted fantasies! And they can use them against you.”

  The realization that the Godscript was open to anyone to see had people scrambling to hide it from others. Some, stupidly tried to block view of it with their bodies, others, smart, realized there was a small scroll at the top which they could press to make it vanish. The formation was almost scattering as people scrambled to keep their privacy in check.

  Prominent Lance continued as though he did not care for the break in formation. “Once the Godscript has been unlocked, it cannot be reverted back to its hidden state! This is why we cannot allow deserters! This is why we restrict you from relationships! Lands! Properties! As Adventurers, as those granted access to the Godscript – you would hold invaluable information and power that the common man does not have.”

  He turned his sharp gaze unto the recruits. “Wittingly or unwittingly, you would abuse it.”

  She wanted to deny the claim. She wished she could.

  “This is the bloody AAA!” Prominent Lance roared. “There are no secrets in the AAA! Do you understand?!”

  There were numerous disgruntled murmurs. Several people disagreed with that sentiment, and she was amongst them, although she would not visibly express that opinion. She needed to keep secrets, otherwise how was she supposed to become the best? If everyone knew what she was capable of, how would she outshine them? Surprise them? The secret to success was never telling anyone everything you knew. It was simply common sense.

  “I said do you understand?!”

  No one responded to the vocal cue. Everyone was deep in their own thoughts of the ramifications of what they just learned.

  “If only I had this godscript when I was working my job –”

  “Damn, I wish I could have known about this. I could have scored with so many girls –”

  “Would my wife have left me if I knew what was wrong?”

  “My sister’s sickness... she... she wouldn’t have died if I had this –”

  “[Genuflection].”

  She recognized the tier eight gravity spell before it hit her. She, like the rest of the seven hundred or so recruits found themselves with their faces buried into the earth. She felt as though several heavy bags of rocks had been placed on her shoulders and back. The weight was crushing her against the mud and dirt, and she could not so much as move her jaw, yet alone her finger.

  The entire field was silent as everyone was overwhelmed by indescribable gravitational force.

  Amidst this silence, came the sound of chewing. The distinct crackle of something fried being grinded upon by teeth. The sound was the sole thing that could be heard other than the harsh, forced breathing of seven hundred recruits attempting to survive the crushing gravity.

  “[Triple Genuflection].”

  She resisted the urge to scream at the sensation of gravity tripling against her, her body now indenting deeply into the earth with enough force to nearly shatter her bones. She rushed to activate her spell, [Greater Lighten] and her skill [Mystic Augmentation] and she was able to barely prevent herself from passing out.

  “Y-your Eminence, Sir! We – I was not expecting you –”

  The sound of crackling and chewing continued, followed by that of a heavy swallow. With dread and awe, she discerned who had cast the eight-tiered magic.

  “Prominent Lance,” the man’s voice was surprisingly soft, almost pure. “Is there a reason why you lifted the veil on the recruits Godscript before commencing their first expedition?”

  “I – I believed it would be better to increase their chances of survival –” she heard him say. “We – we lost seventy percent of the recruits last time, and before that, we lost eighty-five percent –”

  The sound of chewing continued. Crackling and chewing.

  “Your Eminence, I know it is against protocol, but –”

  More crackling, more chewing, and gravity – gravity magnifying in strength.

  “P-please, sir – if you would –”

  “Quality over quantity.”

  “Sir – I -”

  “Always choose quality. Like these plantain chips. There are only ever ten in a bag, and so the taste is savored. Would you care for a taste, Prominent Lance?”

  “S-s-sir – please, your Eminence, – I was only acting in what I thought would be the best interests of Alhamis –”

  “I know.” The voice responded. “So am I.”

  There was a horrifying scream and the bone-chilling sound of bones snapping like toothpicks. One after the other, one after the other, the sounds of the breaking bones grated against her eardrums and blended with the sound of someone eating chips.

  She could smell urine in the air, and those recruits still unfortunate enough to be awake soiled themselves. She could not fault them. The screams coming from a grown man were the type of screams grown men were not supposed to let ou
t.

  The screaming ended abruptly, leaving behind only the silent crunching of teeth against chips.

  “Recruits.” The voice whispered. “Prominent Lance committed insubordination and made an error in telling you of the godscripts before you are ready. This means you are all illegally registered, no different from deserters.”

  She felt a cold sensation pierce her chest.

  “By law you should either be executed or handed to Timoria.”

  She could hear sobbing. She could hear the dripping of liquids from others. No one wanted to be handed over to Timoria. Death was a preferable alternative to being given to the Eminent of Penance. She was ready to bite down on her tongue and choke if it came to such a fate.

  “But...” the soft voice continued. “...my chips were sweet today. I am in a nice mood. I will overlook Lance’s mistake.”

  Her breathing went still.

  “You are now the Lance Brigade.” She heard him say. “You will outdo every other. Outshine every other. Your quality of work and record of service must be stellar. If any one member of the Lance Brigade deserts, then the entire brigade deserts.”

  She almost choked at that declaration.

  “Enjoy your time in the AAA.”

  The sound of crunching chips left along with the soft voice, fading off into the distance. Slowly, the tremendous gravity faded. She was one of the first who could have stood, but did not. Nothing prepared her for this sort of entrance into the AAA. Nothing she read or heard told her that this was how the AAA was.

  “H-hey – a-are you o-okay?”

  The voice shook her. She turned, turned to notice the source, her bunkmate, daydreamer, who looked as shaken as she felt. He extended out a hand to her, and she stared at it. Slowly, she took it and stood.

  “S-so... that – that was an Eminent.” He said, swallowing.

  “A High Eminent.” She corrected without thinking. “The High Eminent of War. Hoplite the Heroic.” The heroic. What aspect of that terrifying being was supposed to be heroic?

  “I – I’ve never seen one before today.”

  “You still haven’t. You were buried with your face into the ground.”

  Daydreamer managed an awkward laugh. “Guess you’re right about that.” She could tell he was trying to calm his nerves. No doubt, all of them were trying to calm their nerves.