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Nov. 2, 2014:
Okay, before I start off, I'd like to point out that this is my original work and one day, if I'm lucky, I will be able to reach a point where, with some minor tweaks, this can get published, so I may cut this off abruptly and request its deletion in order to maintain secrecy.
Second, this is the second time I am posting this, and I will be going through and labeling the three separate chapters that I've done in order to let the admins find them and bin them for me.
Third, I'm reposting so that I can keep my book on a single thread, so with that, I'm going to post the first four chapters all at the same time, so let's begin, shall we?
Spoiler for Awakening:
I wake with a start. Where am I? What happened to me? The questions pour into my mind like a torrent before my blurred vision can even begin to clear up. I sit up, or try to at least. I grip my knees and pull after bending them up, but before I can get myself upright, I feel a sharp pang in my stomach. One hand instinctively pulls to my gut, clenching my stomach as the other hand moves underneath me, keeping me from falling back ad losing my progress towards sitting.
I feel two things I do not expect. Something cold and hard lies beneath my left palm. Something warm squishes under my right palm. I can’t be certain what they are. My vision is useless. I see nothing but a mass of blur speckled with black splotches.
I try to think, to focus, to calm, to remember, but my mind is too scattered to be able to piece anything together. I sit there in silence for a good long while, trying to repair my tattered mind, trying to recall anything that can help me figure out what is going on, though all I find is useless to me right now.
I let myself lay back, momentarily forgetting that I’m lying on a hard surface. I grimace as my head dings against the surface.
Metal.
That’s all I can think as I hear the noise my head makes against the table, or whatever I am laying on. I don’t know why, but the pinging noise seems to make the pain disappear. The pain doesn’t matter as I try to recall that noise. My mind slows slightly to try and think straight, but to no avail, I cannot get it to focus enough, it’s still too scattered. I’ve begun to sort out my mind, but it’s a slow process, and my vision only begins to focus in at the same sluggish rate as my mind.
I’m bleeding.
The thought hits me like a freight train as I sort out what squished beneath my hand. I can see a blur of red that encircles my hand.
Pressure. I need to apply pressure. I press both hands tight against where I think the wound is, my mind beginning to panic even more. How do I know to put pressure on a wound? I don’t know how I know. My mind delves further into its frenzy as the fact that I don’t know frustrates me. Should I move my hands? No, I shouldn’t. I don’t know if this is the correct thing to do, but I can’t let myself bleed more. I can’t let myself die.
I close my eyes, my mind somehow drifting off into the darkness of sleep. I don’t want to sleep, but I can’t help it.
I hear something squeak off to the side of me and my eyes open again. I’m not dead, that’s good. I think to myself before turning to see what had caused the noise. A figure stands in an opening in the wall. Tall, lightish-red, massive. What is that? Wait, maybe it’s a person, maybe not like me, but…I don’t know for sure.
“You’re awake,” the words are coarse, the voice strong and proud. It comes from the direction of the figure. It is a ‘person’. “How do you feel kiddo?”
My vision isn’t too clear yet, it’s better than what is was before I went under, but I still can’t make out more than outlines. I try to respond, but the words come out as little more than grunts and coughs, “Like freaking honey and rose-petals.”
“You’ve got a sense of humor, good,” he replies with a slight chuckle in his voice. The voice is too deep not to be male.
“What are you?” I ask, unable to think of anything else to say.
“Never seen a draconian kiddo?” The voice pounds through the air once more. My vision is clear enough to see his outline a bit clearer now. He begins to move forward, towards where I lay. Two large protrusions extend upwards from where I think the torso should be. Their shape is roughly like that of a triangle. A third protrusion, this one kind of long and skinny, extends from the bottom of his torso. Maybe…wings and a tail. Draconian sounds like dragon. Is this man part dragon? It doesn’t matter at the moment. I shake my head as best I can, I have never seen something like him before, or if I have, I don’t remember.
I feel a hand on mine. I realize now that both of mine are still held tight on my stomach. I ease the pressure off slowly, I don’t want to reopen the wound by being careless. My attention moves to the hand, it feels rough, almost scratching the backs of my hands.
Scales.
He’s scaled, strengthening the whole ‘part dragon’ assumption, but it feels kind of familiar. I don’t know why. I must have a frantic look on my face, because he calmly says, “Calm down kiddo, you’re making me nervous. Relax.”
I do as I’m told, but I can’t be sure why; I don’t know this man, and he could easily be lying to me, but I feel like I can and should trust him.
So many questions pound against the inner wall of my skull, but none can make it to my mouth. Only one thought seems to be able to make its way past my mind and escape past my lips. “I don’t remember who I am,” and it’s true, I have spent a few moments thinking, but I have no recollection of the past. I remember a lot of things, all of it information, but none of it experience.
“You probably blocked out a lot of memories. It looks like you went through quite a bit of trauma.” He responds. I didn’t think I had said it loud enough for him to hear me, but apparently I was wrong. I feel the scales leave my hands, and I slide my hands off of my stomach to the sides of me on the bed. “I found you,” he continues, “Out in a field. You would have bled out. I’m glad to see you pull through.”
I hear something moving and glance at him, he sits down on a chair near where I was laying. My vision is almost clear by now, and I can just barely make out the faint smile and the emerald eyes that take residence upon his face. “Thank you,” is all I can utter. I owe this man my life.
“Don’t mention it, however, I’m gonna ask again, don’t give me a smart ass answer,” he chuckles slightly, “How are you feeling kiddo?”
“Scared, confused, tired, wounded, but at the same time, determined,” The words leave my mouth without giving me time to think about them. The draconian’s questions seem to help me put my mind together, and his voice helps calm my mind. “I feel like I have a reason to keep going, a reason to keep living, but I don’t know what that reason is.”
“Well, that’s definitely better than giving up.” He says, his voice light and bouncy, but still bearing a heavy load of strength behind it. “I may not know your goal either, but I’m almost certain you’ll find it eventually.”
“I do know one thing though,” His voice changes rather quickly, he sounds more confident now, and is less comical about his statements. “You’re going to join Eletohm Company tomorrow Trexly, if you think you’re up to it. Though perhaps I may be rushing you a bit, maybe you’re still too weak for that.”
Weak. I am not weak. I cannot be weak. He’s challenging me, and I can’t back away, I can’t let him, or anyone see me as weak. “I’ll do it, wait…” I pause, thinking about his words, being called weak distracted me from the name he used, I parrot it quizzically. It sounds familiar, ‘Trexly,’ does it really belong to me though? Does he know who I am?
He reaches towards his chest, pulling a red piece of paper from inside his chestplate. It was stained with blood, probably my own. “I found this when I found you, it’s a letter of recommendation stating that one ‘Trexly Swipe’ is to be allowed to join Eletohm Company.” He explains slowly, shrugging a bit as he speaks. “I have no way of confirming that it’s you though, I ran the name, but came up empty. It’s odd, Eletohm Company has no record of your existence, but it’s all I’ve got to go on, so, for now, you’re Trexly Swipe, unless you’d like a different name kiddo.”
So it is not my name, but it’s a name, and that’s good enough for now I suppose. “I still don’t know your name.” I comment as he places the letter back in his armor. “I’d like something to address you as.”
“I won’t bore you with the long title I normally get addressed as, my name is Tarcon Silvias Vrah.” His air of confidence almost made me shudder at the name, I do know this man, I’ve heard of him before, but I do not know him personally I don’t think.
I attempt to sit up as I had done the last time I was awake, taking my movements slowly. Tarcon notices what I’m doing, “Hey, you shouldn’t try to sit up, you need rest still.”
“No, I don’t, I feel helpless just laying here staring at the ceiling. I need to make sure I can actually move.” I say with a bit of a grunt. The movements are making my stomach throb some, it hurts.
“If you’re going to be stubborn about it, let me help,” he sighs, placing one hand on my back and another on my shoulder to help me sit up. Once I’m sitting I rotate my hips to turn my body. More pain comes as I turn towards him, my feet hanging over the side of the bed, but I ignore the pain.
“I have a few questions I’d like to ask.”
“Go ahead.”
I plan to use the questions to distract me from my pain. “Why did you help me?”
“Aaah, I cannot say really, I felt kind of sorry for you I guess,” he responds nonchalantly, as though he truly doesn’t know, but there’s a spark in his eye that tells me he does know why he did it. “It actually wasn’t my choice to save you; that would be Ketrona’s doing.”
“Ketrona?”
“He’s a dragon. Well, technically he’s a wyvern, but most people just call him a dragon. I was riding him when he saw you and made the decision to make an emergency landing to help you. I don’t know why he did though.”
“Oh, alright,” I’m slightly confused, but it doesn’t matter right now, I’m sure I’ll get to see this dragon eventually. “Why do you want me to join Eletohm Company exactly?”
“You’re just full of questions aren’t you? Wait…don’t answer that,” Tarcon let out a slight laugh as he spoke. I found myself laughing as well; it was funny in my mind. “Well, first, you were the one who wanted to join, I just found the letter of recommendation on your body. Second, if you get lucky, Eletohm Company may send you a lot of places, and perhaps that would help you find things to jog your memory. Third, EC could use all the help it can get.”
The last statement confused me slightly, “What do you mean by that last part?”
“Well, we…” We. He’s a part of Eletohm Company, perhaps I should have figured that out sooner. “We are trying to support the Steam Kingdom in their war against the Ice Kingdom, but we still haven’t fully recovered from the Corruption Raids. Our leader, the Admiral, has a screw loose if he thinks we’ll do anything more than get in the Steam Kingdom’s way in a fight, our infantry isn’t enough to sufficiently support the Steam Kingdom’s siege equipment. The Ice Kingdom’s mages and cavalry will…sorry, I didn’t mean to bore you with politics and war strategy.”
“No, continue, please.” I feel as though my mind is begging for him to keep going. I have completely forgotten the other questions I had. I am enthralled by his story.
“Hmm, I’ll tell you what,” Tarcon looks out a window in the room, seeing that the sun is no longer shining into the room, meaning that night has fallen, “You’re coming with me to the compound tomorrow, and the walk from here to the center of the city is fairly long. You get your sleep now, and tomorrow I’ll tell you a little more about the war.”
The agreement seems fair enough, and I respond with a nod. I’m not tired, but I can tell Tarcon is. He must be a bit older than he looks, or perhaps it’s just later than it feels.
He smiles softly towards me, “It’s a deal then, I’ll probably have a pile of clothes laid out for you when you wake up tomorrow, and if you wake up before me, feel free to wander my home a bit while you wait.”
Tarcon pats my shoulder gently before standing and leaving. I feel safe knowing he’ll be around. I lay myself down slowly as the door creaks shut. I put my hands under my head and find that I’m sleepier than I thought I had been. It doesn’t take long to drift off to sleep.
Spoiler for The Archer of War:
I wake slowly today , unlike both the times I remember waking up previously. I am not distressed now; I can see, I can think. The sun has yet to rise, judging by how little light is coming through the window. It doesn’t take much for me to stand now, the wound doesn’t hurt much; it seems I should be fine as long as I make sure the wound doesn’t reopen.
There is a pile of clothes on the chair, just as Tarcon said there probably would be. He woke up first. It doesn’t matter much though. I turn around slowly, testing my mobility. Nothing seems to be hurting really.
As I go to change I find a wet rag on the chair as well as the clothes, and it doesn’t take much to figure out why. I change out of my clothes, then use the wet rag to wipe the dried blood off as best I can. I look at my skin. There’s a number of cuts, none of them very deep, but they’re all over. What kind of trouble did I get into? I think to myself. It was bad enough to make me decide to block everything that had happened to me. I look to my old clothes, which lay on the floor. I can’t even tell what I had been wearing before, the clothes are mangled and torn, not to mention soaked in blood. The clothes on the chair are not fancy by any means, but they don’t need to be. Function over fashion. I put on the clothes, which consist of clean undergarments, a pair of black jean pants, a white t-shirt, and a pair of black combat boots.
I open the door of the room and am immediately hit with the smell of cooked meat. My mouth begins to salivate. I don’t remember the last time I ate anything. I follow the smell through Tarcon’s home, taking note of how large the building and everything inside are. It doesn’t take long to find the kitchen, where Tarcon has already set the large table in the room’s center. I smile slightly at the sight of food, mainly bread and meat. “Pick a seat and help yourself kiddo.”
As I walk towards the table, Tarcon takes a seat at the very end of the table, the end where the food was gathered. I decide to sit just to his left. I want to be close to him, I feel safer there.
I find myself waiting for my host to eat before I eat anything myself. I also thank Tarcon again before I start eating. I seem to have some recollection of manners from before the incident. That’s what I’m going to call it, whatever happened to me, I’ll call it the incident.
“So, do you want to know more about the war still?” Tarcon asks me. I nod. “Alright, well, first, let me start off by saying that I think this war has reasons for starting besides what the two kingdoms claim as their reasons. The Steam Kingdom is highly defensive, and is more than capable at defending itself from the Ice Kingdom. The only problem is that the Steam Kingdom is not suited for offense, they train most of their military to use siege engines, because they normally use siege engines to halt construction by other kingdoms inside their territory.”
“Who started the fighting?”
“The Steam. I still don’t know what prompted them to attack, but that village never knew what hit them. The Ice and Steam were allies before this war started, and the Ice village was under attack by some raiders, and the Steam had sent some of its forces to help, and they did, but afterwards, the Steam forces turned their sights on the Ice village and tore it apart before they even knew what was happening.”
“Do you have any idea why they did it?” I ask, making no attempts to hide my curiosity. I don’t know why this interests me so much, or how I didn’t know about something like this.
“Most people think that the Steam is just trying to expand. They’re a landlocked kingdom, and they probably want sea access.”
“I take it you don’t agree,” I cock my head, he seems skeptical. I try not to focus too much on any one thing as I try to remember to eat while he’s talking.
“No, I think the new leader of the Steam, Starosta Sikar, has a hidden agenda. I’ve never liked him. There’s something odd about him.”
“What about the Ice Kingdom, what do they intend to do?”
“Defend themselves, Imperator Iemitsu has no intention of fighting back against the Steam. He has announced he will only resort to violence in necessary defense.”
I lose control over myself after hearing this, it makes no sense to me. I found myself angry all of a sudden and have to keep myself from shouting at Tarcon, “It sounds like the Steam has no reason to do this, why is Eletohm Company supporting them?”
“I hate to say this, but after the blows we took during the Corruption Raids, we were reduced to little more than a band of common mercenaries. The Steam offered to pay us, and our leaders simply couldn’t refuse. The war hasn’t been going on long and the Steam is still preparing for another strike, so we still have yet to actually do any fighting in this conflict.”
“What kingdom are we in right now? Does this kingdom’s leader know that Eletohm Company is planning to support the Steam Kingdom?” I begin to question myself. Can I really commit to this group, who seems to be supporting the wrong side in this conflict? I don’t have a choice. I need this, so I have to, whether I like it or not. Right now, it’s my only chance to figure out who I am.
“We’re in what used to be territory of the Metal Kingdom, but they abandoned it a few years back, and it has since become a haven for some pretty dangerous creatures, so none of the other kingdoms really want to try to take control of it. This city rests on the edge of that territory, right on the border of both the Ice and the Steam, but it’s still technically unclaimed territory, which is Eletohm Company came here, it’s safe from politics. There really isn’t anything else I can tell you about the war. Do you have anything else you’d like to ask?”
Tarcon and I had both finished eating about halfway through the conversation. I have no more questions, none that he can answer at least.
I help him clear the table and help him with a few other tasks. We stand at the door, ready to leave, when Tarcon holds out a piece of black cloth to me.
“What is this?” I ask as I take the cloth from him.
“I want you to use this to cover your right eye,” he responds, pointing out a mirror on the wall. I step in front of it, looking at my reflection. I look to my eyes before anything else. My pupil doesn’t look like his in the slightest, nor do my pupils look the same. My left pupil is round, just like Tarcon’s, but the right pupil is shaped differently, almost like a star, but with only four points instead of five. Their color is green around the pupils. With that detail viewed I take in the rest of my appearance; my skin looks fair, my hair is short and brown, and my face, like the rest of my body, has minor cuts and scrapes around it.
“Why do I need to cover it?” I hold the cloth at my side as I speak, looking over my shoulder at him.
“Your right pupil is very distinct, and also unique, I’ve never actually seen an eye like yours.”
“What does that matter Tarcon? So what if I’m different?” I am confused. Why does he want me to hide myself?
“Use your head Trexly. What would happen if whatever did this to you…” He points to my stomach as he continues, “Is still out there and decides to come after you again? You wouldn’t want someone or something to be able to recognize you and attack again. I only ask you to do this because I don’t want to find your corpse somewhere.”
“Alright,” I let out a soft sigh and stare into the mirror as I wrap the strip of black cloth around my head, covering my right eye. It feels odd, and I don’t like the thought of hiding my eye, but Tarcon is right, I can’t allow myself to get hurt like that again, next time I might not get lucky. “Can we go now?”
Tarcon nods and leads me out the door. I am greeted by a ray of sunlight right in the face. I am forced to close my eyes. I slowly reopen them to allow them to adjust to the lighting. I look on either side of me, and see two large stone walls. We are at the end of an alleyway that lies below the main level of the city. Buildings rest on the top of the wall and bridges cross overtop of us.
“You live in an alley?” I ask in confusion.
“My mother’s parents bought this house before she was even born,” Tarcon says, a smile on his face as he reminisces the past. “My mother and I both grew up in this house, and I simply couldn’t leave it behind.”
Tarcon starts walking through the alley, and I notice that there are no other houses in the alley, at least I assume not considering there are no other doors. We walk without any words, and no incident for a few no more than a minute before…
“Hey Tarcon, watch out! You got a pickpocket on your tail!” I hear the voice loud and clear, definitely from above me. I look up to see a man wearing leather armor, its style much the same as Tarcon’s metal armor, and holding a bow in one hand. I look around, trying to see where the pickpocket is, but I see no one. Twang. Why is he firing? I look up once more and find the arrow heading straight for me.
I roll to the side, pulling from what little I know. One thought moves through my head; Don’t die, stay alive. He leaps down from the top of the alley wall. Loading and firing another arrow. My eyes go wide, I know I can’t dodge this one, I don’t have the time, I’m still recovering from my dodge-roll.
“Kiyah!” I hear Tarcon’s grunt pound the air. I look to the side just in time to see Tarcon swinging his arm up through the air, a waraxe in hand. His axe collides with the arrow in midair, and he, to my complete surprise, cuts the arrow apart, causing it to fall to the ground, useless. “Spectron, how many times must I tell you to think before you shoot?!” Tarcon is obviously upset by this man’s actions.
“Wait, do you know this kid Tarcon?” The man responds, placing his bow on his back. “Oh crap, I am so sorry, I didn’t know. I’ve never seen anyone really traveling with Tarcon before. My name’s Spectron by the way.” The man, Spectron, extends a hand to me as he apologizes, offering to help me up.
I take his hand and allow him to help me up, “Trexly.” I say nothing more, I have nothing else to say.
“Trexly, I don’t know much about friendship, but I am fairly certain that you could say that Spectron is my best friend. We’ve known each other since we were what, five years old?” Tarcon says, calming down a bit.
“Well, I was five, you were seven.” Spectron responds, patting Tarcon on the back, a wide smile on his face.
“Aah well close enough,” Tarcon sighs, turning and continuing to walk, signaling us to walk with him as he places his war axe at his waist.
From there the walk continues without incident. I follow behind Tarcon and Spectron, who walk side by side, talking with one another.
Our walk ends at the gates of what Tarcon explains is Eletohm Company Headquarters. The gates are rather large, but also rather simple. This place is actually rather intimidating, and looks more like a fortress than a base. Spectron wanders off in his own direction after we enter, and Tarcon does the same after giving me directions to the recruitment center and giving me a clean letter of recommendation. I decided it best not to ask how he got the blood off of the paper. He then walked off, leaving me alone to decide my own fate.
Spoiler for A Warm Welcome:
I brush my way past soldiers, bothering only to mutter the occasional, “pardon,” or, “Sorry,” as I push past them. I am on a mission, and I will not allow myself to be delayed. The crowds are mere blurs to me, I take no interest in trying to look through the crowds for a face that I recognize. The men are all dressed in gray, which I assume is the Company uniform, but that is all I bother to notice about any of them.
I reach the registration office in no time at all. The building is rather plain. It stands roughly twice my height, and is a masonry-style building. There are two windows, and a set of large glass double-doors on the front of the building, though the glass is stained so it’s impossible to see inside. I nudge the doors open slowly in an attempt to procrastinate. Minutes ago I had been as confident as could be, but now, as I stand in the doorway of the recruitment office, I feel sick to my stomach.
Come on, just get it done and over with, you’ll be fine. I tell myself as I walk towards the desk in the center of the room.
There is a woman sitting at the desk, her hair is red like fire with sapphire-blue streaks peeking out amongst the blaze-colored locks of hair, which fall down behind her back, further than I can see. She looks different than most of the people I had seen up until now, she stands out a lot more. She’s looking at something on the screen of the computer in front of her when I walk up, and she fails to notice me.
“Excuse me,” I say in an attempt to get her attention, and I succeed, but not in the way I intended. She almost jumps in her seat as she hears my voice and looks up at me. Her eyes take hold of my attention with ease. Each stands out as much as her hair; her left eye matching the blaze red in her hair while the right matches her hair’s blue streaks. I force myself to avoid staring at her as she looks around frantically.
“Umm, yes?” She asks, a bit of guilt tainting her voice, as though she’s done something wrong. I try to ignore it as I give my response.
“I’m here to sign up.”
“One moment,” she speaks quietly, almost to the point where it’s hard to hear her. She moves her attention from me to a large board with rows of buttons on it. She scans the buttons quickly before pressing one and speaking into the speaker at the bottom. “Brigadier General Schiron, there’s a recruit here to see you.”
It didn’t take long to get a response. “Bring him back Z.” The voice is coarse and rough as it comes out of the speaker.
“This way,” she says, looking back to me. She stands up and turns to the hallway behind her, allowing me to see how far her hair hangs, all the way to the small of her back. Her uniform is gray, much like the other soldiers I have seen in the compound. She looks uncomfortable the way she stands and walks.
Why am I paying so much attention to her? I ask myself as I realize the thoughts running through my head, I need to focus on the task at hand. I step around the desk and follow behind her through the gray hallway, I already don’t like it here, too formal and boring, but I need to figure out who I am, so I’ll have to bear through it.
“General Schiron is waiting through here.” She stops in front of a door in the side of the hall, and her voice pulls me back out of my mind and into reality.
I nod and mutter a simple, “Thank you,” before she walks back to her desk. I now make no hesitation to open the door, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be for this.
In the room is another desk, a tall man sitting behind it, a lamp and computer on top of the desk, two chairs in front of the desk, and a bookshelf off to either side of the man. “Have a seat.” His voice is calm, but intimidating nonetheless. What I heard when he was speaking through whatever communication technology they had here, it had dulled the severity and depth of his voice. A simple statement from him felt like a command. I follow his directions and take a seat on one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Why do you want to join Eletohm Company kid? You’re obviously no older than seventeen at the most, and we usually recommend waiting until twenty to even consider trying to join our ranks. We also recommend combat experience, which I doubt you have. Eletohm Company is highly competitive and if you don’t know what you’re doing, you won’t make it here.” He started calm, but as he progressed through his sentences, I could feel him gradually getting angrier and angrier, something about me seemed to infuriate him. “I suggest you leave now and return to your family until you get some battle experience, you’re not cut out for this.”
His words strike home, I bow my head, I haven’t even been here for twenty minutes and I’m already being turned away. “You don’t know me.” His anger seems to transfer to me, but when it comes to me, it turns straight to sadness. A tear drops from my eye as I look up, rage and sadness mixing in my heart.
He raises an eyebrow at me, “and what makes you so sure?”
“You can’t know me. I don’t even know me!” There’s no doubt in my mind that the others in the building can hear me as I shout through the tears, but I don’t care. “No, I don’t have experience, but that doesn’t mean I can’t learn. I can become strong if I’m not already. I don’t know who I am or where I came from, but I don’t plan to let that or you stop me!” I don’t even realize, in my blind rage, that I’ve stood from my chair and slammed my palms into his desk, getting right in his face.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself as I wipe the tears from my exposed eye. “Look at me, trying to claim that I’m strong while I’m crying,” I chuckle to myself, shaking my head as I turn to leave. “Maybe you’re right, maybe I’m not cut out for this.”
“You’re lucky kid.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, looking back over my shoulder.
“A few things. One, this room, and every other room in this building is soundproofed, so no one heard you yelling at me,” Shiron almost laughed as he leaned forward, supporting himself on his arms on his desk. “Second, is the fact that I am good at keeping secrets and won’t tell anyone about this. Third, is that I believe that crying for the right reason is a sign of strength. Now, sit down and let’s get down to business, private.”
“Yes sir,” his words do calm me, and leave me relieved. My outburst was unheard, so my secret is safe, for now. I sit down, wiping one last tear from my eye.
“I am required to ask if you have any letters of recommendation before we begin this.” Shiron says, his voice more serious and less annoyed. I have no idea what this man is feeling, but I can’t bother to think about it right now. I nod and pull the letter from my pocket, handing it to him. He looks it over quickly then hands it back to me. “Keep track of this and other letters you acquire, especially this one. If this one is real, you’ll definitely want it later on.” I nod to show I understand.
He then takes me through a ton of paperwork, an extremely boring procedure. It takes a few hours to get it all done. I finally hand in the final few pages of work, grunting in annoyance and boredom. “Finally, it’s all done!” I say in relief.
“Runt, the paperwork is only half the battle here. You’re still not actually a part of Eletohm Company, not yet,” Schiron says, shaking his head. “The way things are organized here, everything works like a competition. I will only give you one word of advice; don’t have any more outbursts like you did earlier. The rest you’ll have to figure out on your own.”
“Understood sir.” I speak the way I think he expects me to, and he nods to me.
“You’re number 86 on the list, remember that number, as well as the numbers 120 and nine.”
“Why?” I ask, expecting an answer, but I do not get one, he simply shakes his head.
“You figure out everything on your own, remember.” He chuckles, pointing towards the door. I stand and leave this time, but as I exit the door, I hear him whisper, “Won’t last a week.”
“You’re one of us now?” the girl’s voice sounded delightful compared to Shiron’s, despite the shyness behind it. Her shift had ended only moments before I finished with Schiron, and I guess she was walking the same way I am, even though I don’t know where I’m going. I nod to her, affirming her question. “What’s your number, I’m number 83.”
“86.”
“Oh, that means that you should be in the same brigade as me.” She says a bit excitedly. She looks like an adult, but acts more like a child. She seems shy though in all of her actions; they’re all hesitant or slow. “Want me to show you where to go?”
I nod. If what Schiron said about having to find our own way here, I can’t afford to turn down an offer to help. Every little bit will help me get further in this. “Yes, thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m Xera, by the way, most people call me Z though.” She says, a slight blush on her face, as though she hadn’t expected me to say yes.
“Trexly.”
“Come on, this way.” She seems excited all of a sudden, and bolts off faster than I can keep up with.
“Hey, slow down!” I call out as she pulls further and further away from me.
“Oh, sorry, I just can’t wait to get out of this uniform.” She says, slowing up a bit so I can keep up.
It didn't take too terribly long to get where she was leading me. It’s hard to distinguish the building from the others around it. It is part of a matched set, ten buildings all in a line at the back of the compound; this one being the fifth in the line from the left. Each building is a large half-cylinder shape with the front, back, and curved face are all formed from metal. The buildings are rather daunting. I look above the massive door, which seems to slide out from the center to open, as the door is cracked slightly, and there is one thing that makes it different from the others. Above the door on each building is a symbol, a different symbol from the others. This building’s symbol is a pair of wings, I can’t really tell what kind of wings they are, though.
I say nothing and ignore any and all of Xera’s chatter as I slip through the partially opened door. My heart is racing, but I can’t tell why. I’m not scared, maybe the vibe of this new place and everything that has happened to me recently is overwhelming me, but no matter, like before I can’t afford to mess up here.
“Private Xera!” A proud female voice pierces the air like a dagger. Xera freezes. I follow suit and halt my movement. “What have I told you about bringing outsiders into battalion quarters?”
“I’m not an outsider!” I say defensively. Well, there goes my plan to be a normal soldier and not mess things up, I chuckle to myself on the inside.
“Then who are you?” The voice pierces the air once more, and to my discovery, the woman wielding such a voice does not look like she belonged to it. Her figure is lean and tall. Her hands have more of a paw-like appearance than that of a hand, and her ears are furred and come from the top of her head instead of the sides. The final thing that catches my eye is the furry cat tail that falls behind her. She looks almost fragile, definitely not the type of person I’d expect from such a strong voice. She sits upon a stack of crates next to the entrance of the building, and I stand there staring at her, my face blank. “Well, are you going to answer me?”
“How do I know I can trust you?” I ask. I realize I’ve got to be a bit more rigid, I can’t allow myself to be afraid anymore. I have to establish who I am and what I believe. I will not stand for a lack of respect, nor will I give my trust so easily anymore.
“Hmm, you’re gutsy kid, I like that, and I respect that, but I will only ask one more time. Who are you? Give me an answer or leave.”
If this is where I need to be, I can’t afford to get kicked out before I even begin. I look over my shoulder, trying to see what Xera thinks about the situation, but she has backed away a few steps and crouched to the floor, looking as though she is about to cry.
“Coward,” I mutter under my breath, shaking my head. She won’t be able to help me here. I turn to the woman, “My name is Trexly Swipe, recruit.”
“Hmph, you’re strong willed, firm to hold your beliefs intact, but you seem to have some knowledge of when you must break your beliefs to get things done. You might have a chance here. Might. I guess I’ll return the favor of introduction if you’re a recruit. I’m Helena, the leader of the Sixth Eletohm Company Division. You’ll be seeing a lot of me, so any negativity and resentment you have towards me, I suggest you get it out of your head right now.”
“I’ll do what I have to.”
“Good enough, report to Aulus, he’ll show you where you’ll be resting your head.”
I nod and turn to leave, not thinking about what form of military formality I should use to address her as I leave, I feel as though she has disrespected me, and I will not show her any respect. Xera has run away, so now I’m walking alone through the rooms of the building, trying to find any indication of where this Aulus person is. Each room in the main hallway is labeled with a name, and I scan for Aulus’ name.
I find the door I’m looking for in about the center of the hallway on the right side. The gold plate above the door has the five letters of ‘Aulus’ carved into it. There is a small window in the door. I look through and see a man pacing around the room. I knock. He answers the door, running over to it and pulling it open for me, giving me a quick, “come on in,” before walking back into the room. His long hair sways to the side slightly, giving me a quick glimpse of his pointed ears. An Elf. I’m confused by this. Within a single day at Eletohm Company, I’ve seen five different races mixed through its ranks. I’ve stopped caring about how I know that he’s an Elf. In what little I remember, it seems as though the races have never really mixed well, yet here they seem to mix without issue. “So, what brings you here?” He asks frantically, seeming like he’s in a rush for some reason.
“I was told to come see you about figuring out where to go next.” I respond calmly, trying not to let my annoyance at Helena influence me right now.
“Aah, okay, would you settle for simple directions? I’m a bit busy right now and need to finish this project as soon as possible.” He responds, glancing over to something in the corner behind me. I turn to see a statue of a dragon, likely the mascot of the division, if it’s at all related to the symbol above the door to the building.
“That would be fine, anything is a help at this point.” I answer.
“Okay, then…umm, which battalion will you be in? Oh joy, you’re going to be the sixth member of the fifth battalion. Soooooo you’re going to want to go down the hall until the big circle, then you’re gonna want to go up the stairs to the fifth floor, then you’re going to want to look for the door that says Battalion Five Barracks on it.”
“Thank you, I’ll be going now and let you get back to work.”
“Anytime boy, I’ll be here, just try not to interrupt me again while I’m working please.” He responds, walking over to the statue and pulling something out of a drawer in the set of shelves next to it. That’s all I bother to watch before leaving though.
His directions are simple, and so is the layout of the building. This whole place is pretty straightforward. I follow what he says and find the room with little difficulty. Each floor seems to link every room together via only one or two long hallways so that it’s relatively easy to find every room in the building.
I walk down the hall on the fifth floor. First battalion, second, third, fourth, fifth. Here it is. I tell myself as I count off each door. Inside the room is two rows of beds, with no separation between them. Each row is six beds deep, all of them bunk beds; the one closest to the door in each row is turned perpendicular to the wall, while the other five in the row are lined up parallel to the wall. There is also a table against the back wall of the room. Both table and room are of reasonable size.
At the table sit five others, only one of whom I recognize. Xera. She’s sitting to the left of a man of yet another race, though this one, despite having a long, thick tail where his legs should be, is not a race I know the name of.
To Xera’s left is an Arachne, another hybrid race, this one between human and spider. The Arachne, like many of her kind, lacks a pair of human legs, and instead moves around using the spider-like abdomen and legs they managed to develop.
In front of the Arachne and snake-man sit a man and woman, respectively, who look human, but based on everything I’ve seen here at Eletohm Company thus far, it’s hard to be sure.
I shut the door, making as little noise as I had when I opened it. I lean back against it, waiting for them to notice me. They are eating. It’s about midday though, lunchtime, so it makes sense.
“I know you’re back there.” The human-looking man calls out suddenly, which causes me to get confused.
He’s not even looking my way, he has his back to me. How does he know that I’m here? I ask myself, but it doesn’t matter, he knows, no point in hiding. I nod, forcing my shoulder backwards, to push me upright off the door. “Alright, alright, you caught me.”
“You must be Trexly.” The woman says, turning to glance over her shoulder. The other three perk up and look my way as well, though all they have to do is pick up their heads; they’re already facing my way. “Xera told us you might be getting here soon. Come on over and have a seat, we don’t bite, much.”
The woman’s attitude is relieving, she’s got a much kinder vibe about her. I signed up for this job, and I got put into a team with these people, I’ve got nothing to lose, so I make my way over and sit between the man and the woman. I take a closer look at the two of them as I approach the table. The woman is on the shorter side, but not too short. Her hair goes down only as far as the top of her neck. She wears a white garment that is extremely loose around her legs but snug against her torso, it is one solid piece and has no sleeves. Her feet are also bare.
The man is of average height, only a few inches taller than the woman. He wears…not much. His only coverings seem to be around his waist. The man is built like a wall though, every muscle is perfectly defined and it’s possible to see the muscles flexing with every movement.
The others are all looking at me. “Well, may as well have some introductions.” The woman says. “You know Xera, our resident avian shifter, already it seems.”
Avian shifter? I think, exchanging a glance with Xera, who has a slight blush on her face, as though she’s embarrassed that she didn’t tell me she wasn’t human.
The woman points to the snake-man. “That is Tihrak, he’s a Naga if you couldn’t tell. The Arachne is Azra. I’m Kappa, one of your squad leaders, and the strategy instructor for fifth battalion; I’m also a Soularian in case you were wondering.”
Soularian. Another race I don’t remember anything about, it seems I don’t even know as much as I thought I did.
“And I’m Zorgo, a bear shifter, one of your four squad leaders, and the melee combat instructor for fifth battalion. Nice to meet you.” The man calls out, his voice is cheerful and hardy. It’s kind of amusing to hear, I barely crack a smile as he speaks, but it’s a smile nonetheless.
“Trexly Swipe, human,” I don’t know what I am exactly, so I go with the first thing that makes any form of sense. I don’t want anyone else knowing that I lost my memory.
“You’re the runt that came here with Tarcon this morning, aren’t you?” The Arachne, Azra, asks, her tone poisonous. I nod. “Hmph, I don’t understand why he wasted his time bringing you here, you don’t look like you could do anything in combat.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” is the only retort I can think of, so I roll it off the tongue as sharply as I can, trying to make it sting.
Azra opens her mouth to make a comeback, but Kappa stops her, “Azra, remember what Xay is always telling us, ‘Eletohm Company is a place built for the already strong to lead, for those who wish to become strong to rise, and for those who rise to become the new leaders.’”
“I still think the Command Sergeant Major wasted his time.”
“Azra, at least let him prove himself.” Tihrak comes to my aid in defending my dignity.
“Fine then, come on runt, you and me, right now, prove that you belong here!” Azra shouts, wriggling into a standing position.
“Azra wa…” Kappa begins to speak, but is cut off by Zorgo.
“Kap, just let her learn the hard way.” Zorgo says, “they can’t get better if you baby them.”
No one else is going to defend me now, I have to defend my integrity myself. I see Azra picking up a pair of wooden knives from a rack near the center of the room. There are multiple racks, and I don’t plan to fight with just my hands. Azra tosses one of the knives she picked up before I have a chance to stand. I duck my head, the knife skimming my hair and then continuing on to almost hit Xera in the face, only missing her ear by a few centimeters.
“Okay that just happened!” I call out in an excited and fearful shout. I lean myself back, allowing me to pull my legs out from under the table without really trying to maneuver around the bench too much. I pull my legs straight out and immediately move into a backwards roll, another wooden knife clipping my left ear as I stand up. It stings a bit, but doesn’t do any real damage. I make a break for the closest weapon rack, which happens to have a massive sword, its blade several feet long and over a foot wide. I wrap my fingers around the hilt of the massive wooden training blade and heave it off of the stand, turning it so that the broadside acts as a shield against an incoming knife. I look out over the edge of the sword, one hand on the handle, just below the guard, and the other hand on the backside of the blade, acting to brace the blade. I quickly move my hands back up to the handle and lug the blade forward toward Azra.
The blade is heavy, despite only being wooden, and I immediately begin to feel like I’m at a disadvantage against her. I may have drawn a bigger blade than the ones she’s using, but she is faster than me, to the point where she is literally running circles around me. Wide slash, miss; block; rising slash, miss; block another blade; rising slash, another miss; one more block; full circle slash, yet another disappointing miss.
“You’re never gonna hit me if you keep using a weapon like that,” Azra taunts as she casually throws another knife at me, this time with a lot more force behind it than the others. It strikes my arm and digs in, but being wood and dull, it doesn’t get far into my left arm, but the pain is enough to make me drop the blade and send me reeling back into another weapon rack.
I grin slightly, looking over my shoulder at the weapon rack and then to her, “You’re right, good thing I know how to use more than one weapon type.” My words are not a lie, there are two types of weapons among my memory that I have knowledge of, but don’t actually remember ever using. The first is the massive sword, which I know as a greatsword, I had been using moments ago, and the second…I reach back over my shoulder, drawing a thin, long, wooden blade with a slight curve to it from the weapon rack. This blade, according to what I remember about this type of blade, is a form of hand-and-a-half sword, meaning I can use this with either one or two hands as needed. I stand upright, ignoring the small stream of blood running down my left arm as I slide my left leg forward to give myself a bit of support.
“It’s not going to help if you can’t block my daggers,” Azra laughs, tilting her head to the side, looking at me like I’m stupid.
“We’ll see,” I say, not entirely confident in myself, but I have to try.
Azra shakes her head and casually throws a set of three daggers towards me. I can’t even tell where she’s pulling so many out of, I’ve only seen her pick up two, yet she’s thrown so many more than just two.
Time almost seems to slow down as I feel my heart start to race. I have a few moments to think before I absolutely have to act. The first dagger is low, the second is high, and the third is in the middle, off to the right a bit. I make my movement carefully, rolling on my side off to the left. I’m out of the path of the daggers and begin moving forward, watching her movements carefully. This battle might affect what the others think of me, and I can’t look weak, I have to show that I’m strong.
I’ve been in combat before, I am acting almost purely on autopilot it seems. There’s very little chance I could fight like this if I had never seen combat before, but it raises the question, where did I learn to fight?
I see her drawing a dagger from her waist, this one is metal. She’s not playing now, if I mess up I could potentially die. I take a deep breath, moving slowly. I can read her actions. I have to. She swings her arm forward, flicking her wrist upwards slightly to release the dagger, and I already have the throw mapped out, she releases the dagger while it’s perpendicular to me, her hand releasing a bit late, giving it a slight upward arc, it’s going to hit my shoulder, right where the wooden dagger hit earlier.
I can dodge…no, I won’t…I won’t do that. I turn my sword so I’m holding it backhand, moving it up so it’s between my shoulder and the dagger, holding it so it’s angled away from my body. The dagger is metal, and my blade is wood. My blade is not strong enough to take a direct blow from her dagger, but it isn’t going to. Instead the small dagger bounces off of the wood, following the angle at which my katana is held.
I haven’t stopped moving towards her, and I’ve reached her now. She wears armor covering her chest and lower arms, but her upper arms and stomach are revealed, and either would make a decent target. In a split second decision I turn to the left, holding the blade behind me before pivoting on my hips to bring the blade toward her upper left arm. I have a little trick up my sleeve right now, something I retained after the incident, much like everything else I know about fighting. I know what to expect in certain situations, how people will react in different situations, like this one.
I don’t even have to watch to know what to do, but I watch anyways, just to be sure. I am sure she’s going to raise her arm to block with her gauntlet, and when she proves me right and begins to raise her arm, I’m ready for it. I had prepared myself by bending my right leg, sliding it back slightly, and shifting my weight onto it. Now I use that preparation, extending my leg and propelling myself to the left and forward just slightly, putting me at a different angle, and with my blade already only a few inches away, she doesn’t have time to adjust.
Blood is already forming a stream on her arm as I land on my feet. “I am not weak, and you made the mistake of underestimating me,” The words were expected as I speak, but I’m surprised by the tone my voice gives them, I did not intend for the words to be as cruel and heartless as they sound because of my voice.
I pull the blade from her arm, and begin to clean up the room, wiping the blood off of the blade using my shirt before placing it back on the rack. I figured I had done enough to prove myself as not being useless and weak, but as I set the katana in its place on the rack, Azra decides she isn’t finished, and tosses a second metal dagger at me. I don’t see it, I don’t hear it. The others, they don’t realize what’s happening and warn me fast enough. Well, they warn me fast enough to keep me alive. I hear their voices, Xera’s voice in particular stands out and catches my attention. I hear them telling me to watch out, and start to turn to figure out why. My adrenaline rush had ended, but as the dagger imbeds itself into my right shoulder blade, time begins to slow down once more. Blood begins to dye my shirt red, but this pain isn’t bad. I drop the dagger in my right hand before I can place it back on the rack.
“You’re the one who made the mistake. Never turn away until the battle is over,” Azra calls out cynically. I hear her begin to move toward me, but I still can’t see her. She still wants to fight, and I plan to oblige, but I won’t act hastily like she is; I outclass her and will prove that I am stronger. Azra is cruel, that much I can tell; she’s also merciless and seems to like seeing people suffer. I can use that to my advantage. I can use her cruelty against her. She’s probably planning to play with the dagger in my shoulder to cause me more pain. Right now, it’s bearable, but if she begins to wriggle it around in my shoulder I won’t be able to think, my mind will be overcome by pain again. I don’t want to move and risk increasing the pain yet, but if I wait too long, she’ll be the one to cause the pain. I have to pay extremely close attention to the dagger. If I feel even the lightest touch on that weapon, that’s when I act, no matter how much it hurts me to do it.
I sit there in pain for a few moments, waiting. The dagger suddenly shifts downward. Azra is there, I’m sure of it. There’s still a wooden dagger beneath my hand. I grab it and spin on my right foot, extending my left leg out, intending to trip her, and at the same time I extend my arm with the dagger in hand. My eyes are closed, and I feel my foot and the dagger make contact. I hear a thud, and I lose my balance on my foot, causing me to fall backwards, landing right on the dagger, driving it all the way into my shoulder blade. I scream out in pain, my eyes opening as the sharp pain hits. I start to feel better knowing that I hit Azra though.
Except I didn’t.
With my eyes now open, I look towards Azra, but it isn’t Azra. Xera sits there on the floor in front of me. She’s kneeled down with her face buried in her knees, clutching her chest. The pain of the dagger is unbearable, but seeing Xera hurt by my hand hurts even worse. The others are gathered around us, speechless. Kappa has her hand on Xera’s back, and is kneeled down next to her. Even Azra looks to be at a loss for words, though she’s probably just surprised I can still move. I’m given strength by something new now. Now, it is not the need to prove myself that drives me, but instead I am driven by guilt. I hurt Xera. She was going to help me and pull the blade out, but I attacked her. I work as hard as I can and pull myself to my knees, and begin to move towards Xera, using my left hand to keep myself from falling.
“Trexly, just stop, you’re going to hurt yourself even more,” Zorgo puts his hand on my shoulder to try and convince me to stop. I shake myself and bat his hand away.
“I don’t care,” I respond.
I’m a few feet from Xera, and I feel myself stumbling again, I let myself fall, landing so that I’m using my left forearm to support myself. We’re facing towards each other, but my head is just off to the side of hers. My vision is blurring, my mind is foggy, and my body is getting weaker by the moment. I can hear her sobbing ever so quietly. I want to cry with her, I feel terrible for what I did, but I simply can’t cry, not now, not with death looming over my head again. I try to keep myself awake, but it’s hard. I feel the dagger sliding out of my shoulder blade, whoever is pulling out knows what they’re doing, as it doesn’t cause any more pain as they withdraw it.
Finally, grief overcomes me, I know I’m going to live, I won’t let myself die, and that gives me the strength to cry, and as the first tear rolls down my cheek and drops to the floor, my vision beginning to fade to black once more, I whisper to Xera, granting her the only words I can think to utter.
“I’m sorry…Xera.”
Spoiler for Auran:
My eyes snap open as I hear a sharp and loud , but calm voice, “Wake up Trexly, come on!” I’m lying on one of the beds in the room, the pain is gone, but my shoulder is pretty sore now. I see Kappa overtop of me.
“Xera…” Is the only concern I have, and the only thing I can think to say. I can’t bear the thought of hurting someone for no reason, I should have paid closer attention. “How is Xera? Is she doing alright?”
“I’m fine,” Xera’s voice is a relief to hear. I turn my head to see her sitting on the bed to the right of mine. “Kappa says it’s going to form a scar, but no one will see it, so I’m not too worried about it.” I’m surprised at how well she’s taking what I did to her. Her facial expression doesn’t match her words. She looks upset, and the area around her eyes is a bit red. I know I heard her crying before I passed out…again, I really need to stop losing so much blood. Oh well, Xera’s well-being is more important to me right now. I feel like I hurt her emotionally, and I want to try and right my wrong.
I look around, the others are gone, the only ones in the room are Kappa, Xera, and myself. Kappa sits at the end of my bed, looking at me. “You stopped breathing, that’s why I tried to wake you up.”
“Thank you Kappa,” I say solemnly, “Z, you sure you’re okay?”
Xera is sitting with her knees against her chest, her arms crossed over her knees, and her chins resting on her arms. She doesn’t even bother looking at me as she responds, “Yeah, sure, I’m fine.”
“Trexly, you should be more worried about yourself, you did quite a number on yourself. Xera will be fine, and based on how you’re acting you should be fine too, but don’t strain yourself anymore, okay?” Kappa says, obvious concern in her voice.
I hear her words, but I don’t take them to heart, or really even pay attention to them. I’ve pulled myself into a sitting position and now I’m more focused on the fact that I’ve just realized I’m shirtless and the cloth covering my eye is no longer there. There are bandages on my shoulder and stomach. “Who patched me up?” I need to make sure as few people saw me as possible. Try as I might, I can’t give trust to some of my teammates, not enough to let them know about my eye and the fact that I don’t know who I am.
“We did,” Kappa says, pointing to Xera and then to herself, “I’m the designated team medic, Z is my apprentice.”
“What all did you see while you were working?”
“More than Xera would’ve preferred.”
“Meaning?”
“Your eye, and your stomach.” Xera responds this time, laying her cheek on her arms, looking in my direction.
“Did anyone else see?”
“No, the others left for training before Z and I got to work. Trexly,” Kappa scoots closer to me, placing her hand on my sh