Hearing a snort to her right, Rella turned her head and saw her father standing nearby, leaning into the door frame of her change room.
"I couldn’t care less what you think of him Rella. He is a good match and if I say you should marry him, then by hell you will marry him. You're just lucky the whelp's father is a weasel who owes money to a lot of people or I'd have you walking the isle today" the man said rather harshly, his face dark with emotion.
Stella looked away, timid of her husband, even as she fiddled with the back of Rella's gown, tightening some of the knots and cords.
Rella tried not to gasp at the increased pressure and looked at her father again. It was the first time she had seen him in some years. Goren Sader had held a military post on the Former Kratsch Empire front for some time and rarely returned home, leaving Stella to run the family, or what was left of it. Ever since Rella's two elder brothers had died eight years ago, Goren had changed. He threw himself at the war in the F.K.E in what could only be called a state of revenge. But now, he just looked tired and broken. He was nearing fifty and yet he looked so much older than that.
"Well father, in that case, I am glad he is a weasel, because if he wasn't, I wouldn't be walking the isle even if you ordered me to" Rella spoke icily, a sneer on her face. The remark sent a look of rage over her father’s face and he pushed himself off of the doorway's frame and took a single step towards his daughter.
"You little bitch! You will do what I damned well tell you to do! I am your father and it is my right to marry you off!" Goren growled as he took another menacing step forward causing Stella to make a noise of protest and take a few small steps backwards.
Rella took note of it and scowled. Her mother had been treated badly on many occasions over the years by her husband, even before their son’s deaths. It had always been like this though. Stella had never been able to stand up to Goren, not even in the defense of her own children.
Rella turned completely to face Goren and stared the man down.
"Or what, you will run to General Trent and tell him what a bad child I have been" she hissed at her father rather venomously.
"Unlike you I serve royalty. Not some pompous General who has his position because he bought it" she stated and took a few steps forward until she was a hands breadth from her father’s face.
The man didn't back down from her, and instead whipping out his right hand in a fast motion, Goren slapped his daughter hard across the face. Rella reeled from the blow and staggered some, a shocked expression on her face. She should have expected that from her abusive father.
"Watch your tongue girl, I am still your father" he growled angrily, his face contorted by rage as he stepped back and turned to the side.
"You are the only Sader child left and you have an obligation to carry on the family, even if it means joining with another house" Goren stated coldly before striding towards the door and then down the hallway. Before he disappeared from sight completely, he shouted back.
"You find a man to fill your belly, or by whatever gods exist, I'll find one myself" came the comment right before he disappeared from view.
As he disappeared Rella placed a hand on her cheek, feeling the welt that was raising on her skin, a mark left by one of the many rings her father wore. She scowled, going a little red in the face from that last comment of her fathers. He was a vulgar man.
Stella stepped up to her daughter and opened her arms with a sad look on her face and Rella felt a jolt of hatred and anger rush through her at the woman’s gesture of motherly love. Stella was always like this. Stella would never stop Goren and stand up for her children, but she was always there afterwards to offer consolation.
Exhaling sharply, Rella did her best to calm down and stepped into her mother’s embrace. Stella was just as afraid of Goren as Rella was, she had just learned to accept and live with that fear long ago. As they embraced Rella tightened her grip somewhat and spoke.
"I leave in a few days mother, back to Pagua. Will you be alright?" she asked, her voice somewhat subdued. Her mother just tightened her grip of Rella, hugging close, not a single word being spoken in reply.
Chapter 6
* * *
As he stood nervously in the gun range Sain looked out over a few of the cubicles near him. There were a few soldiers using them, and each was using a different sort of weapon. They all wore earmuffs to reduce the sound of gunshots in the enclosed space, and were completely absorbed by their own training.
Hearing his name spoken, Sain turned and blinked as he looked into the face of Travos. The major approached him and held out a firearm for the young man.
"So Sain, I am guessing the only fire arms you used during training were the standard issue pistol and rifle?" Travos asked of him, a brow raised in query as Sain reached for the proffered firearm and took it from the Major's grasp. He looked the weapon over as he answered.
"Yeah. They were pretty old models as well. Not that good. I'd have thought everyone used energy weapons and blasters here though" Sain stated as he tore his eyes from the weapon. It wasn't a rifle, or a pistol. It was something in between, like a sub machine gun or something. He had never seen its sort before.
"Some people do use energy weapons, but the Samite industry is behind a lot of other nations. We still use coal for electricity and petrol for most modes of transportation. We don't have a large weapons manufacturing industry either. Most our stuff is bought from other world powers" Travos stated and shrugged. He then nodded at the weapon in Sain’s hands.
"This one is a modified Kratsch weapon. It was widely used in the south of the Empire. It's pretty hardy and is the standard issue for the Samite Mage units. It is a sort of mid-range weapon. Semi-automatic and has a decent clip size. You can get water, dirt, sand, blood and just about any other substance in it and it will still work. Good for the types of work we do" Travos said, enlightening Sain. The Major then handed Sain a magazine of bullets and gestured to the booth behind the youth.
Sain turned and approached it. He lay the weapon and magazine down on the bench and picked up his earmuffs, placing them over his head even as he felt his heart beating a little bit faster. His emotions battled between nervousness and excitement as he picked the firearm up again. Picking up the magazine he clipped it onto the weapon. That much was easy.
Looking over the gun, he found the safety and turned it off before lifting the weapon to his shoulder and holding it as he thought he would one of the rifles he had used in his training. It felt somewhat uncomfortable as the stock was rather short. Frowning he put his feet into position and then lined up the sights with the target down the end of the booth. It was roughly fifty meters away and he wondered if he could even hit it.
Relaxing somewhat, Sain exhaled completely and then paused as his lungs emptied. Then he pulled the trigger softly. As the bullet erupted, Sain felt the gun lift only a little and push back into him. He recovered easily and aligned it once more before firing twice more, each time the firearm only lifting slightly.
Looking ahead he narrowed his eyes to try and see the spread on the target and frowned, not quite being able to make it out. He shrugged mentally and lined up the target once more and continued to fire until he felt the telltale click of the firearm as he ran out of bullets.
Putting the firearm down, Sain pulled off his earmuffs and turned around and saw Travos standing there, arms folded across his chest. The man lifted a hand and pointed to the side of the booth silently. Sain turned, his eyes locking onto a button to his right. Sain blinked and pressed it. Hearing a slight whirring noise Sain looked back at his target and noticed it being brought back along a pulley system.
It came to a halt at the booth and Sain reached up and undid the mechanism holding it in place. The target was just a piece of paper with a number of circles on it. It was just a standard target. Looking at the spread of his shots he frowned and looked back at Travos. The man had a frown on his face and Sain felt his heart sink. Had he not done well enough he g
uessed.
"The spread is not ideal I'll be honest. You are heavy to the left and pretty sporadic. When I looked over your results from the academy, everything but your magical scores were average. So, as I said this morning you are to come here every day and train. Show the guys at the front your tag and they will get you a weapon. If you want to train with anything other than our standard issue, it needs to be signed off on by me and the logistics head. Later this week you will also be issued with a pistol. That stays on you at all times and is your responsibility to maintain" Travos said, his voice rather firm.
Sain nodded his head, frowning a little as he tried to understand the words Travos was saying. He was getting better at understanding the language, but he had a long way to go to be fluent.
"Alright, I got it. So, I hand it back now?" Sain asked as he turned back to the bench and picked up the firearm. Pulling out the empty magazine and flicking the safety on, he turned back to Travos, looking a little bit lost. The man grinned and nodded before turning away and beckoning to Sain for him to follow.
"Yes. Usually I would expect you to spend at least an hour here, but today is an exception. I need to show you where we train our magic" Travos stated as he exited the range and made his way down a small hallway and to a sort of counter. It was a simple thing with a pane of glass taking up most of the gap, with a slot along the bottom. It was just big enough to slide things under. There were also small holes in the glass, as if to let sound through. Behind the counter were two soldiers, each going through sheaves of paper. One of them looked up as Sain and Travos approached.
Stopping at the counter, Travos plucked the firearm and magazine from Sain and put them down on the counter, pushing them under the glass. The soldier looking at them seemed impassive and he took the weapon, looking over its serial number.
"Tag please" the man ordered, his tone suggesting severe boredom. Travos plucked his tag from around his neck and slid that in as well. The soldier scanned it and then gave a look over the fire arm.
"No issues with it?" the soldier asked not even looking away from the weapon.
"Nope. It shot fine" Travos stated simply and reached under the glass to take back his ID before turning away and gesturing for Sain to follow. The pair walked out of the area and then soon exited the building into the hot sun. Sain narrowed his eyes and lifted a hand to his forehead, shielding his gaze from the bright light.
Travos put hands on hips and then sighed rather dramatically.
"Alright, now we head over to the magic training ground. It isn't all that far from here, but it's all in open ground until the facility. Hopefully your assigned uniform gets to the barracks in a few days. You white folks need hats and glasses or you burn like crazy under the Samite sun" Travos stated with a grin and turned to look at Sain.
"C'mon lad, lets hurry before you melt into a puddle" Travos stated as he started off in a brisk walk.
Sain just scowled and hurried after silently, feeling as if the sun really was burning him to a crisp. He really had never gotten used to this hot humid place. And he wondered if he ever would.
* * *
Sain gasped as the blast of energy smashed into his magical barrier. Staggering from the impact, he touched some fire crystals embedded in his belt with his bare fingertips, and pulling on the energy within them, he leapt backwards even as he flung his hand at his opponent conjuring an image of an arc of flame in his mind. The magic took hold and a whip of fire formed in the air, following the path of his hand. Landing firmly on the ground, Sain whipped the arc of flame three times at his opponent. The fire scattering harmlessly against his opponent’s barrier and Travos laughed from the sidelines.
"You will have to try harder than that lad" the Major yelled at Sain.
His opponent began another round of chanting and a wall of wind slammed into Sain and his barrier, lifting him off of the ground with its force.
Sain swore and reached to the back of his belt and touched a crystal studded to it. Pulling energy from his only wind crystal Sain created a rush of air behind him, slowing his fall to the ground. Landing shakily on his feet, he barely had time to strengthen his barrier before the assault resumed.
Sain was training with the rest of the unit and it seemed to him that Travos had put him against one of the units most veteran members, a grizzled middle-aged Samite man with streaks of gray in his short beard and cropped hair, a leader of one of Travos’ squads, by the name of Sergeant Luto.
Sain leapt from side to side, trying to make himself a hard target but to no avail, the sergeant simply turned, not leaving his own spot on the concrete floor of the warehouse and not for a second letting his light brown eyes leave Sain’s body. His steady chanting continuing unperturbed, Luto released blast after blast of wind at Sain, knocking him about with ease. Getting frustrated, Sain felt his repository of magic steadily draining as he used it to defend frantically. Casting all caution aside, he pulled on even more magic from the fire crystals in his possession, and draining them completely he condensed the roiling energy to a white-hot ball of flame in his right hand, trapping it there with his own magic. Taking aiming he let it loose in the form of five fireballs, fired in quick succession at the sergeant. They flashed white and blue as they collided with the raised barrier, exploding into a small and concentrated inferno.
Not wasting any time, Sain pulled his barrier in close and leapt at Luto. Landing right in front of the middle-aged man, Sain pushed out at the man’s chest in what would have looked like a comical double punch to the onlookers, but each fist was covered with dense raw energy straight from his own repository. Slamming his fists into Luto's barrier Sain yelled in triumph as the man’s barrier gave way, his yell quickly turning into a sharp noise of surprise as he stumbled forward. Luto smiled even as he kept chanting. He simply redirected Sain’s blast and spun gracefully to Sain’s right and behind the youth. Sain gasped as the Sergeant lashed out with a stoke of wind, hitting Sain in the small of the back and launching him forward.
Sain managed to land in a roll but couldn’t stop his momentum, and as all the onlookers laughed at him, Sain crashed into a stack of empty boxes lining the walls of the warehouse, causing them to crumple and collapse around him.
He lay in the tangled mess a few moments before standing up and looking at the merriment around him. All the others that had been sparring had stopped to join their laughter together, but even their combined merriment could not even compare to that of Major Travos. The Major was literally rolling on the concrete floor holding his stomach and crying. A strange sight for such a large man.
Sain couldn't help but crack into a sheepish, if not embarrassed grin himself as he pushed his way out of the boxes and made his way back over to Luto who gave the youth a wink and a pat on the shoulder before moving to go sit down. Sain noticed Luto sweating quite profusely and he was quite obviously exhausted.
The laughter died down as Travos got back to his feet and wiped a few tears from his eyes, still chuckling as he too stepped forward and patted Sain on the shoulder.
"Not bad for a first time. I think you have the largest amount of energy at your disposal than anyone else here, but you waste too much of it when you commit to a single strike. There were times that Luto could have taken you out with very little effort. But alas, we are here to practice and learn, not kill each other. You have potential lad. By the way, how long have you been able to use magic without a chant? That’s very rare, even among elites" Travos asked of the youth as he still wiped tears of merriment from his eyes.
Feeling awkward with the lecture and praise, Sain looked away and pretended he was looking for the right words, his grasp of the Samite language still halting.
"Uh, since I was about fourteen, I think, not long really" he said slowly, a sad look in his eyes.
Travos looked at the youth noticing his melancholy and frowned before just patting Sain on the shoulder again.
"Well it's still impressive! Regardless, stop throwing so much energy around.
Don't know if you noticed, but we were all standing a long way back from you. Do what you just did in an enclosed space and the building will collapse around you" Travos stated right before he laughed out loud and gave the youth a hard slap on the back, throwing him forward.
Sain swore as he staggered forward and Travos grinned.
"Once you get that under control and get better and I may have to be your sparring partner. That'll test your mettle. Now you louts, get back to practice" he suddenly yelled at the rest of the people who were still looking on.
Sain stood up straight and rubbed the small of his back, a slight frown on his face as he looked at the major yelling at the others.
Deciding he had no more need to practice today, especially after the lecture from Travos, Sain walked over to where Luto was seated on some wooden benches and without a word he took a seat next to the sergeant.
A New Beginning Page 6
