The Jestivan (Erafeen, #1)

by David F. Farris

  “You lied!” Itta yelled. “You must have hid a few hundred.”

  “Disobey the decision of you four and risk my kingdom’s safety because of it? No thank you. I have pride in my people, but against four other kingdoms, we would perish. People who possess Intel Energy are born with strong minds … for me to try something that stupid would be a disgrace.”

  “Well, you’ve certainly made an enemy out of me,” Itta hissed. “The only reason we haven’t declared war is because I’ve lost General Inias … but I don’t need to state this. That was your plan.”

  The old Archaic King sat back down. The Intel King followed suit with an exasperated sigh.

  Next to stand was Spirit Queen Apsa. She was quite young—in her mid-twenties, perhaps—and had beautiful brunette hair that flowed in natural waves. “I disagree with King Itta—”

  “Of course you do, you naïve little wench,” Itta interrupted.

  “Watch it,” Supido cut in.

  “That’s alright,” Apsa said with a charming smile. “‘Wench’ … ‘Queen’ … I know who I am. But morals and ethics should be your specialty, no?”

  Itta avoided her eyes, which he knew were mocking him in the worst ways. He despised Apsa’s vitality.

  Next to stand was the Passion King—whose belly rattled the table as he stood. This brought a smile to everyone’s face except Itta, who rolled his eyes.

  King Damian stared at Vitio for what felt like an eternity, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. After half a minute, he smiled broadly, and Vitio nodded in return. Damian then turned to Itta with a frown so pronounced, Itta involuntarily bit his lip. Then Damian sat back down, causing his belly to hit the table again.

  Damian was mute, and the people of his kingdom were required to learn sign language in their early curriculum at Phesaw. When communicating with people from outside the Passion Kingdom, he had to use facial expressions. Luckily, he had an expressive face.

  “Are you all really that far up his ass?” the Archaic King asked in a calm, controlled rage. “Hundreds of people from each of your lands have died because of that man.”

  “We have no evidence, Itta,” Supido said, equally coldly.

  “Then what was the point of this?” Itta asked, bewildered.

  Supido shifted his gaze to Vitio. “Because he still will be punished. As he already stated, it happened in his kingdom, so he will take responsibility for not providing a safe environment.”

  Vitio nodded. “I have a suggestion.”

  “By all means …” Supido extended his hand, offering the floor to him once again.

  Vitio stood. “During an event as big as the Generals’ Battle, the teleplatforms are appropriately staffed with escorts and soldiers from all kingdoms. Perhaps we should gather the head escorts from each respective kingdom who were stationed at my kingdom’s platforms and question them about what and who they witnessed throughout the day.”

  “Seeing that these escorts are currently in their home kingdoms, that would take time,” Supido said.

  “We can schedule another council to be held in one month.”

  Itta let out a forced laugh. “And give you time to tell your escorts what to say?”

  “Not at all,” Vitio said. “In fact, none of us will be able to do that. Five years ago—when we last had an emergency meeting—part of the verdict to release all of my Dev soldiers was to give each of your kingdoms five people from the Dev Kingdom’s Intelligence Unit, and that was the only condition in allowing me to keep mine. In doing so, I gave one of you a very handy tool.”

  The attention peaked inside of the room. Vitio looked toward the large Passion King and said, “Damian, when we gather again in a month, bring Marcus. He can extract truths, so anything we might try to tell the escorts would be pointless.”

  King Damian’s eyes widened. “I never told any of you about that ability of Marcus because I couldn’t have it be used against anyone else … which is also why I gave him to Damian,” Vitio added.

  “And why didn’t you keep a weapon like that to yourself?” Supido asked.

  Vitio smirked. “So it couldn’t be held against me if there ever was a time when I had to reveal that secret.”

  “So smart!” Apsa exclaimed.

  As Vitio sat down for a final time, Supido stood once more. “That settles it. We will meet again in one month’s time. Now, in regards to punishment, we think we have reached a reasonable amount. King Vitio of the Intel Kingdom, you will be required to give 200,000 granules each to your neighboring kingdoms of the Light Realm.”

  Vitio coughed up some of his water. “That’s a large sum of money, but feasible and understandable,” he said, regaining his composure. He wiped his mouth before continuing, “I suppose each of you will have specific requests for how it will be paid, so we will discuss that through writing or broadcasts.”

  The Adren King looked at them all and said, “See you in one month,” before turning to walk out of the room.

  ***

  For the Jestivan, it had been two weeks in the routine of classes and training sessions at Phesaw since the disastrous weekend of the Generals’ Battle. However, that routine felt different when there were two glaring voids among their numbers.

  Both teams were missing members. Bryson’s team was missing Rhyparia, who was still in the Dunami Hospital in a coma. The other team was missing its captain, Olivia.

  Several of the young Jestivan were beginning to crumble under the stress. Despite Grand Director Poicus’s warnings of hardship during the story of Thusia’s Sacrifice, they still had not been mentally prepared.

  Olivia’s team was gathered at a table in the Lilac Suites. The directors, who sensed distraught and disconnect between the Jestivan, had given them the day off to mend bonds. It was done in hopes of morale being lifted, but it was failing miserably.

  “What did you even do?” Yama yelled.

  Agnos, who was seated calmly across from her, said, “I escorted people out.”

  “You’re worthless,” she hissed, her amber brown eyes burning as they locked on his. “What was the body count for your section again?”

  He returned her gaze and gave a simple response: “Forty-five.”

  She slammed her hand on the table. “Forty-five?!” By this point, everyone in the room had turned to their table. “And it would have been worse if Director Buredo didn’t come to help!”

  Agnos didn’t respond immediately. He rested his forearms on the table and gave her a minute to calm down. He knew what she was playing at. He knew why she was actually upset.

  “Do I feel guilty for not being able to do my part?” he asked rhetorically before answering it himself. “Yes, I do. I stand for morals. I stand for ethics. I stand for good.” Agnos continued to look at her intently. “However, fear struck deep within me, resulting in a loss of what I stand for. And I regret that.” After a brief moment of silence—during which neither Lilu nor Tashami made a peep—Agnos leaned back and coolly said, “Do not feign remorse for lost lives.”

  Yama gaped at him. “What?”

  “Of course she’s upset, Agnos,” Tashami said.

  “I’m not denying the fact that she’s upset,” Agnos replied without taking his eyes from the violet-haired Yama. “But she is upset for the wrong reasons. For reasons of greed and selfishness. She did not look at that catastrophe as a moment to save lives. For her, it was an opportunity to better herself.”

  “False,” Yama said sternly—but then her eyes fluttered and she looked away.

  “Oh, the contrary,” Agnos said as he pointed a finger up in the air. “Yama is a simple person,” he said to Lilu and Tashami. “She once had a Charge. As an Adren Kingdom resident, one must swear to protect their Charge.” He looked at Yama. “And we all know how important an Adren resident’s duty is to them, don’t we?”

  Yama’s face flushed red. “Shut up.”

  But he ignored it and continued speaking. “Yama always had one goal, but with a Charge, she found he
rself in a mental struggle, torn between two things—the need to help fulfill anything her Charge desired and her own desires, as what her Charge wanted was the complete opposite of her own. I would know this because …”

  Agnos paused and placidly stared at Yama before finishing his sentence. “… he was my best friend—long before he was her Charge. He was my role model and practically my big brother, and he wanted nothing more than to achieve the highest level of good—of purity. He wanted to discover this world’s history and the people before us. He pursued wondrous concepts such as the phenomenon of the human mind, what makes us good, what makes us bad, and how we think. His level of thinking was far beyond anybody’s I have ever met in my life.

  “And on top of all this, he was physically talented. Not that it mattered, for all he cared about was peace. And that was a completely different mindset than what Yama possessed.” His eyes were glazed as he passionately continued his rant: “Yama cares about power—striving to better herself not for the sake of goodness, but to dominate through her fighting abilities. And when she was with her Charge, her drive for power was frustrated because she knew it was her duty to assist and protect him.

  “But her charge—my dearest friend—left years ago while she allowed it to happen. And once he was gone, her own selfish desires drowned out everything else. She does not care about saving lives. She looked at that invasion by the Dev soldiers as the perfect opportunity to hone her skills, and it eats at her soul when she sees people, such as myself, not doing the same.”

  For a brief moment, he became silent as the lounge’s piano played in the background. Then Agnos tapped his index finger on the table. “That is truly why she is upset with me. She sees me as weak-minded and weak-bodied.”

  ***

  Three other Jestivan were having a stroll around the perimeter. They formed an odd trio. Jilly and Himitsu frequently spent time together, but Toshik stuck out like a sore thumb. He never socialized with the other Jestivan, but with the orders from the directors, he had no choice.

  He was in the middle, and his displeasure was noticeable as he walked with his hands in his pockets and a harsh expression on his face. An exuberant Jilly wasn’t helping. She was doing everything in her power to gain his attention, from pulling on his arm to trying to climb up his lanky back. But Toshik just continued walking without acknowledging her once.

  Himitsu was on the left, and his mind was drifting into dark places, but this was nothing new. For the past couple of weeks, darkness had been eating away at his thoughts. If it wasn’t the worry about the possibility of his parents being imprisoned, it was the fact that one of his closest friends—and fellow Passion Jestivan—was missing, or that his team member, Rhyparia, was in a coma.

  Then there was the issue of their captain, Bryson, who had proven he could not cope with Olivia’s disappearance. He had defied the directors’ orders to spend time with his team today. Not even Debo could influence him.

  “I wish Bryson was here,” Jilly said.

  “Why?” Toshik asked.

  “Because he’s our captain.”

  Toshik rolled his eyes. “Ugh, kill me now.”

  “Hey! That’s not nice.”

  “He’s proving how weak he is. This is why he’ll never be captain in my eyes. It’s pathetic.”

  Himitsu’s eyes narrowed. He glanced at Toshik from the corner of his eyes, but before he said something inappropriate, Jilly spoke up first.

  “So inconsiderate. He lost his best friend.”

  “I’m supposed to show compassion for a weak-hearted man?”

  Himitsu felt his blood begin to boil. “How dare you, a guy who hasn’t spent more than ten minutes with us before today, make any judgments about Bryson!” he shouted as he jabbed a finger at his teammate’s face.

  Toshik just smiled. “You are proving to be just like him … weak.”

  The three of them had stopped at the crest of an arched bridge spanning a small stream as the two boys began to tussle. Jilly skipped to the railing and jumped onto it. As she stood there, staring at the quarreling men, she wore a rare grim expression while waiting for her cue.

  “Are you saying you don’t have a weak spot, emotionally?” Himitsu asked incredulously as he tugged on Toshik’s collar.

  Toshik eyebrows rose with a mocking surprise. “No. I am a man of the Adren Kingdom—the Light Courage Kingdom.”

  There was her cue. Jilly let out a forced scream and fell backward toward the rock-speckled, shallow stream.

  Toshik snapped his head around as his heart dropped into his stomach. He darted toward her and grabbed her trailing forearm. His eyes were instinctively reflecting panic.

  Jilly looked up at him with a stern glare as she dangled beneath him. “Every heart—even yours—has a weakness.”

  ***

  If it wasn’t for the dripping faucet in the kitchen, Bryson’s house would have been completely quiet. The air was still as a chill crept over his body.

  He was sitting against the wall on the hallway floor with his elbows resting on his knees. His face was hidden in the shadows of his hoodie. His eyes were red, but more from anger than anything else. His body was rigid, and for the same reason.

  Sitting dangerously close to the light-shielded door, he continued debating in his head whether he wanted to commit to something so spiteful and foolish—an idea he had to get back at Debo, who had been refusing to let Bryson and the others search for Olivia.

  Even though he had little interest in what was inside the closet, that didn’t mean he didn’t want to get in for the sake of pissing Debo off. What better way to do that than by breaking his number one rule?

  As he thought about it, he caught a glimpse of his scarred pointer finger. He hated it. Every time he saw it, it made him second-guess himself, for he didn’t want to relive that pain. He hated it even more than the mystery scar on his chest.

  He thought about Lilu’s offer once again. But did he really want to find out what was in the closet? In a way, he was afraid of what he might find. Still, he found himself sitting next to the light every day.

  Bryson’s feelings toward Debo were totally conflicted. He didn’t want to see his face, but there were topics he wanted his insight on. Like what the mysterious girl said when he was searching for Olivia … When the time is right.

  Bryson’s train of thought was interrupted when the front door opened. He lazily shifted his head to the left while barely lifting his neck, his hoodie still covering his face. It was Debo, who had come home much earlier than expected, but that didn’t alarm Bryson. He couldn’t care less.

  Debo stood in silence while staring down the hooded boy. Bryson awaited the scolding for not being with his team, but after several more seconds of silence, Debo took off his golden robes and threw them on the rack.

  “I would act surprised, but that would require me to actually be surprised,” Debo said.

  “Any news from Poicus?” Bryson asked as he stared at the floor.

  Debo leaned against the hallway’s entrance. “We didn’t hear from him today.”

  That wasn’t good. The last news they had received was that Poicus had successfully entered the Dev Kingdom three days ago.

  Bryson let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s been too long. I told you, he needs help. Stop getting in my way—”

  “—of death?” Debo cut in, standing up straight. “Poicus told us it would be a few days before he could get in touch, so this is expected. Listen, I understand what Olivia means to you. She means a lot to me too. But you’re an idiot if you still think I’d allow you to enter the Dark Realm.”

  “My father would have more faith in me. I wish he was here.”

  Debo’s expression shifted to something unreadable. “I think you’d regret that wish. And get away from that light,” he added as he turned away.

  That was it. The decision was made. Bryson was going to get into that closet.

  ***

  Approaching the kitchen sink, Deb
o rolled up his sweater’s sleeves. He turned on the faucet, cupped his hands underneath it, and splashed the cold water onto his face. Another long day of worry and stress clouded his mind.

  From Yama’s debriefing to him and Grand Director Poicus after the Generals’ Battle, he knew that Olivia had likely been captured by the clairvoyant. She was probably alive, but a rescue mission would be near impossible.

  As Debo stared down into the sterling sink, his mind replayed the conversation that doomed any realistic hope of saving Olivia …

  “So Yama, is there anything you need to tell us?” Grand Director Poicus asked.

  The old man was seated at his desk in his office occupied by two other people. Yama sat across from him while Director Debo was pacing behind her.

  As expected from the highest title in the school, the office was big. The Grand Director of Phesaw was the status equivalent of a king or queen of a kingdom. Several busts stood atop stone pillars behind Poicus. These were the sculpted heads of Phesaw’s many previous Grand Directors. There were rows of bookshelves that lined the walls, and a couple ladders could be seen leaning against them, for the books seemed to stretch upward to no end.

  Yama, who had two large packs of ice strapped to her back and a couple bandages on her face, looked at Poicus with disappointment and responded, “I’m weak.”

  He gazed over his pressed-together fingertips. “If that was the case, we wouldn’t be speaking to you right now,” he said.

  She didn’t respond, so Poicus continued, “Agnos sustained multiple injuries yesterday also, but you don’t see him being interrogated in my office.”

  Once again, she didn’t reply, but instead, stared plainly at him while Debo continued to pace.

  “And that’s because we expect that from Agnos,” he further explained. “However, from the likes of you, we’re not expecting such injuries from mere foot soldiers.”

  Yama looked off to the side at nothing in particular.

  Grand Director Poicus studied her face for a moment longer before asking, “So tell me, who was it that you had the unfortunate chance of running into? Debo and I know it wasn’t just some foot soldier that could do so much damage to the Jestivan’s most talented fighter.”