The Jestivan (Erafeen, #1)

by David F. Farris

  She responded with a sweet smile. “It’s going to happen one day, dear. And when that time comes, you must know how to fight with aggression.” She glanced toward the corners of the room. “Hiding in the flames and shadows are good for unsuspecting victims, but for a traditional fight, you must focus more on the skillful side than the creative side. However, even with that said, I’m still impressed. You’ve managed to hit me and it only took a couple weeks.”

  Olivia gave her a blank look. “You’re not even using your Passion Energy. You’re simply evading.”

  The director laughed. “Look who’s talking, young lady. You don’t use it either. How can such a tiny girl harbor so much power?” she asked.

  “My mother.” It was a rapid-fire answer—no hesitation at all.

  Venustas’s head tilted as she studied Olivia. “Typically, mothers teach their daughters how to be a stereotypical lady, which involves an absence of combat. And even if a mother did teach her daughter how to fight, it’s usually an elegant style—much like mine. You, however, use brute force.”

  “My mother has taught me many things. She said women can be powerful and must show their independence. She also told me to never tap into my Passion Energy. Emotions make you vulnerable and vulnerability makes you weak.”

  “‘Don’t let anybody see you while you’re weak—especially men,’” Olivia continued, quoting her mother. “‘Stand tall, stand strong, stand proud. The moment someone sees you’re emotionally weak is the moment they will walk all over you. There is always someone out there evil enough to draw out your emotions … even when you could have sworn they were locked deep within.’ That is what she always tells me.”

  “That’s quite a weight to put on a little girl’s shoulders,” Director Venustas said quietly. There may have been a scent of pity along with it.

  Olivia didn’t respond. Meow Meow, however, was displeased. “She can handle it,” he said with a stare of ice.

  The director’s smile returned. “True. Her composure and maturity are unprecedented.” She gazed at the kitten hat for a few seconds before she tucked her hair into the back of her robes. “That’s it for the day.”

  11

  Lilu’s Offer

  In the midst of another gloomy day in the Intel Kingdom, a pair of teenagers strolled through the front gate of a beautiful white home. Bryson held the gate open as Lilu graciously accepted his gesture.

  While they walked toward the front door, Lilu gazed into the sky and said, “I absolutely adore the suburbs. The clouds aren’t as angry as the inner city.”

  Bryson unlocked the door, and as Lilu stepped by, he replied, “Personally, I don’t think they’re angry enough.”

  She took a moment to observe her surroundings once inside the house. “It’s quaint, but so beautiful,” she said with a smile.

  Bryson took the training bag from her shoulder and placed it on the floor next to a group of shoes. “Thank you,” he said. He looked at Lilu, who was now curiously staring down the hallway at the light-shielded closet. “Do you want something to drink? Something to eat?”

  Her eyes stayed fixated on the light. He leaned in a little closer and added, “Debo is going to work us hard. You’re going to need the energy.”

  A couple more seconds passed until she said, “Yes, water and a banana,” in a distracted voice. Bryson understood that the light was odd, but he wasn’t expecting her to recognize its peculiarity as quickly as she did.

  When he returned from the kitchen with a water and banana in hand, he dropped them with a crash. Lilu was standing directly next to the light. He grabbed her arms and, before he knew it, her entire body was wrapped in his.

  “You can’t touch that,” he said through startled breaths.

  “I’m fully aware, Bryson. I was simply getting a closer look to cure my curiosity.”

  “Is it cured?” he asked.

  She gently put her hand on his forearm that was wrapped around her stomach. He felt the velvety skin of her fingertips trace his skin until it reached his hand, entwining her fingers in his. His body temperature skyrocketed, reaching heights in tremendous contrast to the cold he’d felt his entire life.

  She looked down at Bryson’s fingers, examining each one. Then she saw what she was looking for—a scar on his index finger.

  Bryson was numb with shock and bliss. He had his arms around this beautiful royal, and she was accepting his embrace. His chin was resting on her head and he could feel her playing with his fingers.

  “You got this scar from this light,” she said.

  “I did,” he affirmed with his eyes closed.

  “This is Director Debo’s work?” she asked.

  “It is. It’s an intelight … unparalleled and everlasting. A true testament to his ability.”

  Lilu stepped away and looked up at him. “That’s not an intelight, Bryson, and it’s not something that should be just sitting around like this.”

  Bryson snapped out of his trance and gave her an incredulous look. “It is an intelight. It couldn’t be anything else.”

  “I guess that’s what makes sense for you to think. If you thought otherwise, you’d know more than a commoner should know.”

  He was confused, but Lilu gave him no time to respond. She walked into the family room and sat at the piano, tucking her short, yellow dress underneath her. Bryson gave her a weak smile as her fingers drew out an excruciating clashing of tones. His head was aching by the time he was finally rescued by the front door swinging open.

  “Who is butchering my poor piano?” asked the tall figure that just entered the house.

  Lilu stopped and greeted the new face while blushing. “Hello, Director Debo.”

  The look on Debo’s face was enough for Bryson to cry tears of laughter.

  “You’re only here for speed training, right?” Debo looked at the piano. “I don’t know if I can fix that.”

  Lilu flushed a deeper red. “I’ll go get changed,” she said as she got up from her seat.

  “No, you won’t,” Debo said flatly.

  She stared at him, not sure if he was serious or not, then gestured to herself. She was wearing a sunshine dress, golden high heels, and a yellow daffodil in her hair. “I need to put on proper clothes.”

  “That’s proper enough,” Debo said while hanging up his cloak. “Meet me outside.”

  “He has his reasons,” Bryson said. “Don’t worry.”

  Lilu stood nervously on the vast stone patio of the backyard. Her sunny dress was a sharp contrast to the shadows of the overcast sky. The door slid open and out walked Bryson and Debo. Bryson took a seat on one of the wooden lounge chairs and sipped from a tall glass of lemonade. He gave Lilu a teasingly evil smile similar to one of Himitsu’s.

  “Aren’t you training with me?” she asked.

  “Nope. I’ll be relaxing and observing the comedic display.”

  The slim girl turned away from Bryson and looked toward the tall Intel Director, who was smiling wide. He had no intentions of wasting time.

  “Let’s see you walk, Ms. Lilu,” Debo commanded.

  She made walking in her heels look effortless—as expected from a royal.

  “Good,” Debo said. “Now jog.”

  Bryson fought down a giggle as this proved to be more difficult for Lilu. She looked in real danger of rolling an ankle.

  “Now run,” Debo commanded.

  She stopped and looked at him. Through heavy breaths, she asked, “No offense, Director, but are you insane?”

  “You wanted real training. If you don’t agree with my regimen, you can leave and not waste my time.”

  It was an unusual tone to be taking with someone of royal descent, but Bryson wasn’t surprised by it. Debo always had no regard for giving respect if it wasn’t given to him—it didn’t matter who the other person was. People were so used to seeing his fun-loving, sarcastic side that they forgot how intimidating he could be.

  “Making me play around in heels isn’t traini
ng! I’m not your court jester—I’m a lady! You don’t know what it’s like trying to walk in these things—let alone run in them!”

  “Don’t piss him off,” Bryson said while lazily chewing ice.

  Debo gazed at her angry face for a few seconds. “I will disregard your ignorance and entitled attitude. Allow me to prove you wrong. Toss me your heels.”

  “This will be priceless,” Bryson mumbled.

  Debo struggled a bit putting them on since Lilu’s feet were significantly smaller. Thankfully, they were open-toed, allowing him to force it. Seeing the golden high-heels sitting underneath a pair of lanky, hairy legs was the exact kind of comedy Bryson had been looking forward to. Even Lilu’s rage softened somewhat.

  “You claim I don’t know your struggle because I’m a man.” He began to walk very well—disconcertingly well. “You assume I’m asking for the impossible …That’s insulting.”

  “I’m sorr—” Lilu’s apology was cut short as she stumbled backward and let out a yelp.

  Debo was standing face-to-face with her, the shadow of his towering frame engulfing her. He had gone from where he was pacing, some twenty feet away, to directly in front of her in a split-second.

  Bryson smirked, then realized his hand was empty. It was curved as if it was still holding a cup. He looked back at Debo and, sure enough, he now had Bryson’s glass of lemonade. Not only had Debo gone from point A to point B within in the blink of an eye, he’d also taken a detour to a third point. And this was all done while wearing heels . . . and neither Lilu nor Bryson saw it happen.

  Debo lifted the glass to his mouth and took a sip, still staring at a flabbergasted Lilu. “False accusations based off misguided assumptions isn’t a good look for a royal of the Intel Kingdom, young lady.”

  Shame crept its way onto Lilu’s face. “I’m sorry, Director.”

  Bryson walked over to Debo and snatched back his lemonade. “Show off,” he muttered as he headed back to his chair.

  Debo chuckled. “Well, here are your heels. We’ll put this behind us.”

  “I admire your skill,” Lilu said, but then added, “However, I’m not completely sure what skill you’re showing off.”

  “Speed alone will not fare you well if you don’t have the agility and balance to compliment it,” Debo explained as he slipped his feet into his own shoes. “In heels, I was able to move without sacrificing any speed. Not only that, but I was also able to pivot and change direction.”

  Lilu finally understood. “And this would only improve my speed and agility in normal fighting conditions,” she said. “I mean, if I can move in these, I can move in anything.”

  Debo smiled. “Correct. Training under circumstances that cater to you is not ideal. In order to get better, you must train in conditions that are meant to hinder you.”

  “That’s smart,” she said.

  “Don’t doubt Debo,” Bryson said as he lounged in his chair. “Number one rule to live by.”

  The rest of the afternoon featured a more obedient Lilu and light-hearted Debo. Bryson dozed off for a couple hours, causing Lilu to occasionally give a jealous glance over. After four hours of work, the sun had almost fallen beyond the horizon, and Debo called it a day.

  “Whenever you’re ready for more, come on over,” he said. “I’ll be happy to get you to the level you need to be at. Maybe I’ll even let you train on the pegs.” He nudged behind him, where wooden poles scattered in every direction.

  “You don’t even let me on those,” Bryson said with a pout.

  Debo smiled and exited the back yard. The moment he was in the house and out of sight, Lilu collapsed to her knees and snatched off her shoes. She grimaced in pain as she rubbed her toes and the back of her ankle.

  “Blisters already,” she whined.

  “A small price to pay,” Bryson remarked from his lounge chair.

  She thought about it for a second and said, “I suppose so.”

  “I went through it too, you know?” he reassured her. “The heels and everything.”

  “Well, I guess you’re proof that it works.”

  Bryson smirked. “He’s fast, isn’t he?”

  Lilu rose from the ground and sat next to him. “Creepily fast. He must be close to our people’s max speed.”

  “Oh, for sure. And if he isn’t at 70% speed, he’s at least 65%.”

  Lilu wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. “He’s kind of scary.”

  “He’s kind of awesome,” Bryson retorted.

  “Awesome …” She mumbled it under her breath, as if she was debating the accuracy of that description. “That light isn’t awesome.”

  Bryson’s face soured along with his tone. “Are we back on that now?”

  “Of course we’re back on that. You have no clue how dangerous and out-of-place that light is!”

  “Everyone has secrets to protect, Lilu.”

  “Not to this extent. He’s risking hurting somebody he supposedly loves.”

  “Supposedly?”

  She didn’t back down. “I’m questioning the extent of his love. If his secrecy takes precedence over his love for you, his priorities are backwards.”

  “I told you … he has his reasons for everything,” Bryson said as he looked at the sky in frustration. “I’ve learned to not doubt him.”

  She took a moment to consider that, tapping her fingers on the arm of the chair. “What if I told you I could get you in that room?” she finally asked.

  “And how would you manage that?”

  “My older sister has a method of getting past the light. The difficult part would be convincing her to help you.”

  His excitement instantly deflated, Bryson sank back into his chair. “There’s no way the Princess of the Intel Kingdom would help me with such a petty matter.”

  “True,” Lilu admitted. “However, my father could pull some strings. After all, you’re the son of the former Intel General. And I know how much respect my father had for him.”

  “Is your sister actually that strong?” Bryson asked, ignoring the reference to his dad.

  Lilu thought for a second. “She is talented, yes. But her talent has nothing to do with it. It’s a perk that comes with being the first-born of a royal bloodline. You know what I’m talking about.”

  Bryson looked toward the sky again, where he could barely see the crusted underbelly of a floating island. “Her Branian.”

  “Correct.”

  “Besides the fact that Branian are Bozani from the Light Empire, what’s so special about them?”

  She frowned. “I can’t answer that, and you know I can’t answer that.”

  “Hmm. Is there anything you’re allowed to tell me about them?”

  “We’re walking a thin line here, but I suppose I can scratch the surface. Branian once belonged to the kingdoms of the Light Realm in an earlier life—just like you and I do now. They are a class of Bozani. They’ve died before and were reborn on that island you keep looking at above us—the Light Empire. And while they may be the lowest tier of Bozani, they are still far stronger than almost everyone in our kingdoms. They wield abilities we can only dream of—abilities that could help you get in that closet. That’s all I can tell you.”

  “So how are you going to get me in touch with Princess Shelly?”

  She grinned from ear to ear. “The annual Generals’ Battle is in a few weeks. Biggest spectator event of the year. Lasts a whole weekend. People from each of the Light Realm’s kingdoms come. It’s quite a treat, and this year our kingdom is hosting it. Parades, epic battles, festivals, plays, and a lot more.”

  “I’ve always wanted to go to one,” he confessed.

  “I will grant your wish. As a royal, I’m permitted three guests. I’ll introduce you to the royal family while we’re at it,” she said with a toothy smile.

  Bryson accepted without hesitation. Honestly, he would rather avoid meeting the king, but if that’s what it took to unlock the secret behind the closet door, then it was
necessary.

  Lilu stood up and stretched. “Well, I better get back to campus. Telejunction shuts down in about an hour.”

  “Do you think my dad is up there?” It was an unexpected question that caught her off-guard.

  The beautiful young woman stopped for a moment and looked at him with compassionate eyes. “Mendac was a great and powerful man from what we’ve all heard growing up. I believe his energy was strong enough for him to be reborn. So yes, I think he is up there right now, happy and care free as a Bozani.”

  Bryson continued to gaze into the night sky while the crickets sung their songs through the backyard. She studied his face for a moment before wishing him a good night and exiting the yard.

  12

  A Meeting of Meaning

  Bryson was sitting in the lobby of the Lilac Suites at a time of day he was not used to. Rays of light stretched through the windows as the sun slowly peered above the horizon, giving the violet decor a golden hue. Seated with him at the table were two heavy eyed Jestivan, Rhyparia and Himitsu. They sat in silence, for it was too early for conversation. However, someone up above them didn’t seem to mind what time it was.

  “Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!” came Jilly’s screeching voice from the fourth floor. It was accompanied by the sound of fists banging on a wooden door.

  Himitsu, who had an already empty mug of coffee sitting in front of him, put his hand to his face and rubbed his forehead. “That girl,” he said, exhausted.

  “Somehow she seems to be a morning person,” Bryson said. “Here I was thinking I had already seen her excitement at its peak.”

  Himitsu frowned and looked at Bryson. “Be happy you get to go home. I’ve had to put up with her morning antics every day for the past five weeks. It’s always at seven o’clock … never fails.”

  Rhyparia took a sip of her orange juice and smiled. “It’s quite adorable.”

  Himitsu slowly turned his head with an eerie glare. “She’s nineteen.”