by J Gaines
“It’s unusual to find you here alone, Amias.”
He didn’t turn; he could hear the subtle tones of anger in John’s voice, and he knew he wasn’t in the right state of mind to have this conversation.
He moved to place the Bokken back into its place in the rack. “I was just leaving.”
“Stop.” John’s voice rang out and echoed around the gym, somehow stopping Amias from replacing the practice blade and striking him like a physical blow. “Now you are here, it’s time for your lesson.” John walked to the wooden rack and picked up a brown Bokken before walking into the centre of the gym.
Amias lowered his blade and turned towards him. “I don’t want to practise now. I apologise for showing you disrespect. It was childish. I know I need to be better than that.”
“That was then, and this is now. If you are truly sorry for your behaviour, then you’ll respect me by engaging with me now.” He lifted his blade, holding it in two hands and stepping back slightly as he took his stance. Amias watched him but remained still.
“I don’t feel like fighting now,” Amias muttered.
“Then it’ll be a painful lesson.”
As John spoke he suddenly leapt forward with surprising speed and agility and thrust the blade of the Bokken towards Amias’s chest. Amias, however, matched his speed, spinning sideways as he brought his blade around, avoiding the strike and crouching into a defensive stance. John faced him, lifting his blade and gripping the handle tightly with both hands. His grey eyes twinkled, and he smiled. It was Amias who was on the attack first. He swept the blade strongly in a cutting motion, only for John to evade each blow by centimetres, holding the blade close to his chest as he stepped from one side to the other. Amias’s attacks were relentless, yet John avoided all of them without contact. They circled each other, and John’s smile was gone. “You’re losing your control, Amias.” He watched as Amias gritted his teeth.
“Can we ever fight without you talking?” Amias replied. He was on the attack again, and this time his strikes were wielded with a ferocity which John was unable to avoid. As Amias stepped forward and brought the blade across from right to left, John held his own sword upright, gripping the Bokken’s blade and blocking each strike with the hilt. The connection of the wooden blades created a loud thwack that broke the silence of the dawn. The only other noise was the sound of their feet as they stepped across the wooden boards; dust flew from the gym floor and glimmered in the bright morning sunshine. As Amias continued his attacks he could feel the anger rising in him. John was playing with him and he knew it; this was a lesson in respect. He stopped his attacks, holding his blade low as they circled each other again.
“What would Virgil say to you now, Amias?”
He felt the familiar stab of pain at the mention of his short-lived teacher. For a moment, he was standing in front of the iron chest again, his heart thumping as he made ready to climb inside. “He didn’t talk as much as you do,” he replied mockingly.
“But his teachings made their mark, or at least I thought they did. This isn’t the man who stood unarmed against Kaden. This is a boy who is angry at the world and everyone in it; a boy who wants revenge and doesn’t care how he gets it.”
John’s words stung him, and he lifted the sword up quickly before bringing it crashing down. It was met with a force that shook the blade in his hands as John raised his Bokken to defend himself. They looked at each other; the time for jest was long gone. John used the sword to push him away and then attacked, spinning and striking like a dancer. Amias had never seen him move so quickly in their training sessions and was barely able to block his attacks. The sound of their Bokkens erupted into the morning like firecrackers. John was forcing Amias backwards and he could sense he was getting closer to the wall behind him, but he was unable to gain the composure he needed or the time to regain his form. Suddenly John brought his sword up so strongly that it knocked Amias’s arm outwards, leaving him unprotected. Before he realised his vulnerability, John spun and planted a heavy kick in his chest. Amias’s feet left the floor and he flew backwards, crashing heavily into the wall as his back and head connected with the iron. His head swam, and he was winded, but he got onto his hands and knees instinctively, looking at his opponent in disbelief. John’s face was devoid of emotion, but his eyes betrayed him and Amias could see the conflict and concern there. Finally Amias managed to suck in some deep breaths, and he stood up shakily.
“That’s enough for today.” John turned and walked towards the weapons rack.
Amias didn’t follow, instead walking unsteadily in the opposite direction. He bent down, picking up his Bokken. He stood and turned in John’s direction, dragging the wooden point along the floor. John had reached the weapons rack and stopped as he heard the noise. He hesitated for a moment before picking up another Bokken and turning to face Amias, crouching and raising both blades so that they crossed each other. The pain was already disappearing and Amias was regaining his senses. The anger he’d felt was gone; it had been replaced by something else, an inner calm and focus that he still didn’t fully understand. He remembered Virgil’s test with the chest again, and the feeling that had helped release him. He and John stood watching each other, each awaiting the other’s first move. Then suddenly they moved in unison, running towards each other with an unnatural speed before meeting in the middle of the floor in an explosion of wood against wood.
Each attack that Amias used was countered by John. He could feel the force of his own blows crashing against John’s attacks and his fingers tingled. The blades became a blur of brown and black as John used both of his Bokkens expertly. The crash of the practice weapons hitting each other was so frequent that it became as one sound, the hits becoming quicker and quicker in a crescendo. Amias could hear grunts of exertion from John and he looked through the clash of blades into his eyes. Now he felt a control he hadn’t felt before when fighting John in the gymnasium. It wasn’t just a control over himself, it was a control over his opponent. He knew John felt it too, but he was resisting, not ready to finish his lesson. Out of nowhere he felt something. A change was coming in John’s attack; he wasn’t sure how he knew it, but he did. It was as if it had already happened, and yet somehow he’d missed it; the feeling distracted him for an instant, a millisecond of realisation, and then he launched himself backwards as John spun around, sweeping his blades low at Amias’s legs, which were no longer there. As Amias flipped backwards he felt the wind caused by John’s blades and watched as they whistled underneath him. He landed on his feet and crouched in readiness for the next attack, before looking up at John in shock.
John’s eyes were wide as he tried to understand what had happened. He took a long breath as he circled Amias again. “Your movement… you were committed to the flip before…” He paused and then shouted, “Again!” He launched forward with a cry. Amias had regained his composure and was ready for him. He twisted the Bokken by the hilt and expertly parried John’s attacks. He could feel his strength flowing; his movements had a fluidity he’d never felt with a sword in his hands. The Bokken became an extension of him and as John cut across him he cartwheeled over the stroke without placing his hands on the floor. His feet regained contact with the floorboards and as he turned, he knew John was looking to take advantage of his move. Anticipating John’s strike, he brought his Bokken around with all his strength as John tried to cut across him with both of his blades. There was an earsplitting crack as Amias’s sword cut through both of John’s swords. He held his stroke and stopped, his back half-turned from John as he followed through with his strike. He heard two bangs as something dropped to the floor and he stood up to face John. He was smiling and pointing at the broken hilts, which he’d let fall.
“From now on we use metal.” He nodded in respect at Amias, and Amias nodded back. “So what happened?”
Amias shook his head. “It felt different somehow, I don’t know…”
“The abilities you just displayed went beyond my understanding. Maybe beyond Virgil’s as well.”
“I knew what you were going to do…”
John nodded. “Maybe it was because you’ve grown to know my movements and fighting style. Or maybe it’s something else.”
Amias lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry about the debrief.”
John interrupted him. “I know… You need to know that I’m trying to help you. In here we can develop your abilities as a fighter, but out there you need to develop your abilities as a man, and as a leader.”
Amias raised his eyes and nodded.
“They fear you, Amias. They don’t know what you’re going to do or how you’re going to act. When you’re out there as a team, all your lives are in danger. If you break away from the group, then you endanger them even more. It’s not just about how powerful you are. It would be the same for any of us.”
“I don’t want to be their leader. If they are with me, then I will endanger them.”
“I need you to be their leader. There aren’t many people here that I can trust completely, but you’re one of them.” John held his hands out. “Since we’ve come here and built this, it’s become bigger than you and me. We have people we are accountable for, people who’ve committed themselves to helping us beat Kaden. It’s been centuries since so many altéré have come together for a cause like this.”
Amias shook his head. “It’s not enough. We are not enough.”
“But more are coming. The meeting this week is a step forward for our movement against Kaden. The leaders from across the world are coming here. Some of the most powerful of our kind, both in ability and influence. Now they understand the threat that our race is under.”
“Why is it they’re only coming now?” Amias retorted angrily. “Why didn’t they come fourteen months ago?”
John sighed. “The altéré have never shown much of a united front. They tend to only deal with what is in front of their noses. It’s only now they see Kaden as a threat and are interested in your potential. Until now they’ve not risked the danger of coming here, but finally they know the need is so great that they’ve been left with no choice. We need to join together.”
“I didn’t think I’d ever hear you talk like this…”
“Neither did I. But somebody changed my mind and made me care. A man who stood against Kaden when nobody else would, a man who stood alone and who I’ve come to care about greatly.”
Amias turned away for a moment, embarrassed by John’s compliment. “I need to face him alone again,” he whispered.
“It would be foolish to face him alone. You’re not ready yet and he knows it. He knows you, he knows that you still want to know who your parents were. But even if he does know, he will never tell you now. You must make a choice; there can be no indecision about what we must do. If I face him, I will kill him.” John watched as Amias clenched his jaw. “I suggest if you face him again you do the same. Don’t hesitate. Your sword skills have improved immeasurably; you are already my equal. It’s your control that holds you back. What you just showed wasn’t magic, it was an extrasensory perception that was created by a mindfulness that escapes you too often. Kaden has already mastered this and only a few others have ever displayed it. The man who made your sword was one of them, and my trainer was another.”
Amias bristled. “I’m trying –”
“Try harder.” John interrupted. “The purity of thought and mind will be your salvation, and nobody can be stronger in what makes you unique – your love.”
“Virgil said the same, but I feel I have no love left.”
“Then you need to find some. I’ve tried to pick up where Virgil left off, not only in training but also in his search for your parents. I wish I had news that would satisfy you, but I don’t. Riddles and more questions are all I’ve found.”
Amias shook his head in annoyance and turned away.
John’s voice raised in anger behind him. “Remember why we are doing this, Amias, and why we have to defeat Kaden. He’s killing altéré now, but it won’t be long until he turns his attention to people who don’t have our abilities, normal people. For some reason, we’ve been born with a different physiology that makes us stronger and quicker, but we still have the same flaws that ultimately make us human. We get scared, we get angry, we lose our way.”
Amias didn’t reply. He walked to the weapons rack and placed the Bokken back in its place. As he did so he couldn’t help but wonder what his father had been like.
John called out from behind him. “Are you still having them, the dreams and the headaches?”
Amias paused before replying. “The dreams, yes; the headaches, no. I haven’t had a headache since that night.”
“And the dreams?” replied John.
“They’re the same.”
Chapter 5
It was morning. He changed quickly and made his way stealthily through the least used part of the facility. Was he being followed? It seemed not. He ducked behind some unused warehouses and followed a path towards the now redundant stone chimney looming across what was now their headquarters and home. It cast a large lonely shadow in the pale morning sunshine Reaching the end of the warehouses, he broke into a run and strode up the grassy hill towards a copse of oak trees next to a high fence erected around the perimeter of the buildings. He looked at the fence for a moment, ran towards one of the trees and, using a foot to propel himself into the air, caught a large branch. He hung there for a moment before pulling himself up and moving quickly and assuredly along the branch. He sprang off and over the fence, somersaulting before landing perfectly on the grass. He raised his arms, accepting the silent acclaim of the trees – but then felt foolish and broke into a trot following the fenceline.
As soon as he reached the hill he’d been searching for, he broke into a run; his legs burned as he powered up the steep slope. When he reached the top, he leaned against a large silver birch and turned to look back in the direction he’d come. He took another long breath and felt free for the first time that day. Beneath him the old cement factory spread its ugly buildings across the countryside. How had the area looked before the factory was built? Had anyone else ever travelled this far into the country, walking the fields and looking up at his hill, wondering whether they should climb it?
His attention was drawn to the main gates; three large vehicles were approaching them. It was possible one of the vehicles was carrying the person who could kill Kaden; but it was more likely they carried more people who would be killed by Kaden. His eyes moved away from the gates and followed the fence around the perimeter. The resistance against Kaden relied heavily upon secrecy and it made him uncomfortable inviting people he didn’t know into the one place that was currently safe from him. They weren’t prepared for an attack of the magnitude that Kaden could launch, and John knew it as well as he did. It had become obvious that the others were deluding themselves, thinking this sanctuary would last forever. His thoughts turned to Sophia and Lucas, happy in their ignorance. They held a misplaced confidence in the strangers, which John was using to instil a belief he knew was misled. He shook his head and watched as the vehicles rolled down the long road towards the main buildings. There was one positive thing he was holding onto; Mia would be attending the council meeting today. It had been a while since he’d seen her. She was one of the few people he now looked forward to seeing.
John, on the other hand – he gritted his teeth, Since John had become his trainer, their relationship had changed. He was no longer what Amias would refer to as a friend.
The cars stopped, and he strained his eyes to see who might emerge. It was already nearing the time he would be needed by John; he should return as the council would soon be taking place. But he hesitated. He didn’t have to go back – the only people who would care would be John, Mia and Sophia. He turned to look across the countryside, fie
ld after field until they became a blur of green and yellow. It was then he felt something he hadn’t felt for nearly fourteen months. He raised his hand and rubbed his fingers against his temple. The headaches he’d felt so often around the time he’d first met Kaden had returned. As he turned back to look at the new arrivals, the pain grew more acute. For a moment, he was actually glad of it; it was a familiar feeling from a time he’d been in love. A cool breeze seemed to be willing him onwards, testing his will and questioning what resolve he had inside. A few moments passed before he turned quickly and ran down the hill, resisting the breeze and remembering a promise he’d made.
*
There was lots of commotion as he re-entered the facility grounds. People he recognised rushed past him, looking concerned – and he began to feel concerned, too. He jumped in front of a busy-looking woman but she was so engrossed in whatever she was doing he had to physically stop her from running into him.
“Is something wrong, Catherine?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why is everyone running around as if the place is on alert?”
She looked at him as if questioning his sanity. “You know that we have the most powerful altéré here today, right?”
