The First Five Days: of the Lionean Saga

by John O.

  Turning to look at Joni, Yosi Sint said as he sheathed his sword, “I trust that you will follow Leades Ron Riten and Rosi Lite to your prison cell without issue. We must all atone for our crimes as the law sees fit. One day, you will look back and understand why this was necessary.”

  Looking at Sly, Yosi concluded. “That was my first mission.”

  “Was that the first time you took a man’s life?” Sly asked in earnest.

  “Yes.”

  “By your accounts, it is unclear to me whether you hesitated at any point through the ordeal. However, have you had any regrets ever since?”

  “Though my countenance may not disclose it, taking a life is never an easy thing for me. But justice cares not for how I feel. What needs to be done must be done. Otherwise order would fall to chaos, an outcome that cannot be allowed. Understanding this fact is how I bring myself to live with the act.”

  “I see. Is this Joni Thorne the same one who currently acts as the Lector of the Thorne province?”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “How long was his prison sentence?”

  “Originally, he was to serve a five-year term. However, he was pardoned after only three years on account of his good behavior and obvious remorse for his crimes.”

  “Thank you for obliging me with this story,” Sly said and smiled.

  “My pleasure, Sly Zozan. In time you will come to know more,” Yosi replied. Contemplative silence followed as they continued on their journey.

  Oracion wondered why she could not see a single thing. Prisca was deer-runs away, and as such, it was unlikely that her mind-travel blindness was as a result of the Ispris’ energy. Exasperated, she raced back for her body.

  11

  Rahel was bored with her current station: the Helesp hall. To make things more interesting, she often practiced her skills at covert operations by concealing her presence as she spied on activities in the hall. However, she had grown tired of this and instead craved company. Fortunately for her, Beau Even was in no mood to be alone as well, for her shift had ended and she longed for company in order not to drift into mourning. Together, they sat in the hall and discussed in low tones.

  “What do you think that snub is doing?” Beau asked, referring to Zach Sen.

  “I guess he is sketching up something,” Rahel, who had been deep in thought, replied.

  “Obviously he is sketching something. My question was what you think he’s sketching?”

  Rahel frowned, for she was certain she had heard Beau right the first time. She reasoned that Beau’s loss must be affecting her mood more than she realized, so she decided against setting Beau right.

  “I guess he’s practicing his artistry. Perhaps drawing something or someone in the hall.”

  “Wrong. I suspect he is drawing up a plan.”

  “A plan? Whatever do you mean?”

  “Isn’t it obvious that he is cross with HN Ruki Sen’s decision to make that out-worlder his successor? He practically screamed at the Aispris as she questioned him in that line. Evidently, that repressed anger was not directed at the Aispris alone,” Beau concluded.

  “Aren’t you overstating things? He hardly raised his voice at the Aispris,” Rahel replied, wondering where Beau was going with this.

  “He shouted at her! I heard it clearly and I am sure others heard it too. You were obviously not paying enough attention, seeing as you like to drift off every now and then.”

  Rahel was irked at Beau’s insinuation. She was good at her job and the last thing she needed was anyone claiming otherwise. She could hardly conceal the anger in her voice as she blurted, “Your senses must be clouded, Beau. I pay close attention to everything that goes on around me and I am certain he did not scream!”

  “Then I must be mad. Is that what you’re saying, Rahel? Just because I lost my husband, it means I’ve gone crazy, no? The real problem with you is that you always think you are right and everyone else is wrong. I made a big mistake trying to keep you company. Arrogant brat!” With that, Beau stormed out of the hall.

  Rahel was nonplussed as a plethora of conflicting emotions engulfed her. Anger, hurt, pain, surprise, and most of all shame came to the fore of her mind. She was ashamed that she had lost her composure in the face of provocation. Clearly, Beau was not emotionally stable, and as such, it was Rahel who should have taken control of the situation. And then the tears came. Silently Rahel lowered her head and cried.

  Zach Sen, who had been distracted by the bickering of the two women, had only heard part of the conversation. However, he correctly deduced that Rahel was in tears, much to his amazement, for he had always known her to be a strong girl. Moved, he made his way towards her and said in a soothing tone, “Even with tear-filled eyes, you remain beautiful. To be sure, I will preserve this look by sketching it. Do not worry; you don’t have to sit still. I have enough to go by.”

  Rahel looked up to find his warm smile. Before she could reply, the Leade began to make his way back to his palette. As she watched him leave, she thought to herself in wonder. This man may be strange, but lovely so. However, I cannot allow him immortalize this moment with my face wrinkled in tears!’

  “Perhaps a game of Strag? That will likely cheer me up faster than a sketch.” She called out in a bid to deter him.

  He was near to decline, only to hear himself say, “Alright, I’ll be with you in a few minutes.” Utterly bewildered by his own words, he hurried to finish the sketch, summoning all dexterity he could find within.

  Rahel did not let up; she hurriedly proceeded to retrieve a Strag board from the Conclave, and began to make her way towards Zach. Zach, who was practically finished with the painting, quickly hid the papers in his pocket as he watched her climb down the stairs towards him. His eyes focused on her cleavage, which was accentuated by the tight-fitting garment she wore in her unbuttoned coat. Aroused, he tried to distract himself by focusing on other matters. However, this proved ineffective, the last straw coming as Rahel removed her coat and hiked up her dress to sit opposite him.

  With a calm voice, he pleaded, “May you wear your coat please? I doubt you’re aware of what the sight of your body can do to the thoughts of a mere man like me. Except if you intend to use it as a weapon to disarm me at Strag, you won’t get a worthy opposition in me; for there is no way I can concentrate.”

  Rahel laughed and wore her coat. “I am sorry I made you uncomfortable. I only removed my coat due to the hot and humid weather. I will have nothing distract you, lest I win in unfair circumstances.”

  She was glad that not only was he interested in women, but she also had a profound effect on him. That bode well, she thought as they arranged the pieces on the board.

  As he made his first move, he suddenly recalled the image of her swaying hips. The thought invoked a surge of desire so great that he barely managed to stay focused as they played. Alas, the time came when he could cope no longer; for he realized that he had surreptitiously maintained an erection for a good ten minutes into the game.

  Disconcerted by his unusual lack of self-control, he muttered apologetically “I apologize Rahel, but it seems I cannot continue with the game.”

  Rahel Ni leaned towards him, looked into his eyes and said, “Why? What is the problem?”

  Zach Sen was transfixed. Speechless, he felt the already developed bulge between his legs grow even bigger as she drew closer. With grace, Rahel removed the board that separated them, drew even closer and planted a kiss on his lips. His walls shattered as he found himself holding and kissing her deeply in return. After about thirty counts, he finally found the strength to disengage from her, despite his roaring desire to sustain the moment.

  “I’m very sorry for my inappropriate behavior,” he said in abashed tones.

  “No, it is I who should be sorry. I am the one who made the first move, unsure of why I did it. Please forgive me,” she replied as she packed up the pieces on the board and made her way to the Conclave.

  Zach Sen’s though
ts raced. How did this happen? I was tempted and I fell. I never thought I would be weak in a situation like this. The wise ones were indeed correct when they said that it profits a man to avoid temptation, rather than try to resist it. Surely she didn’t set out to tempt me. A woman reduced to tears is always vulnerable and it was I who did wrong by taking advantage of the situation, he concluded.

  If only he knew how wrong he was.

  Set put finishing touches to the image of Jessamine that he was sketching. It had taken him quite some time to complete and he had admired the lady’s patience as she posed effortlessly all through the duration. By then, Sin and Jin had joined them on deck and had watched in silence.

  “It is done,” Set announced. “Come take a look.”

  Jessamine walked towards the men and beheld the painting. With awe, she exclaimed, “Wow this is beautiful!”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “Like? No Set. I love it,” she replied with a broad smile, clearly impressed by his work.

  “A nude painting would be much better. Perhaps you can come to my cabin while I…” Sin was saying.

  “That is never going to happen!” snapped Jessamine who did not do him the courtesy of looking at him. To Set, she asked, “What are we going to do about the painting? Do I take it or…”

  “What are you doing with it? Do you not behold yourself in the mirror every morning?” Sin interjected, determined to be noticed.

  “No I do not. And even if I did, having this painting is different.”

  “I’ll give you the original for free. But first I will need to make copies if you don’t mind,” acquiesced Set.

  “Why thank you for your generosity. I’ll return before nightfall for the painting, that is, if you’ll be done making copies by then of course.”

  “Not a problem. I should have it ready,” Set replied

  “Alright then. I need to return to my duties now. See you at nightfall,” she announced with a smile and began to leave.

  “Nightfall it is!” Set agreed. As he watched her leave, it was all he could do to keep himself from laughing at a deflated Sin who could not come to terms with how he had been blatantly ignored.

  Prisca Foté made her way towards her room. She could hardly focus during the prayer session and she concluded that it was because she hadn’t had enough sleep on the previous night. On getting to her bed, she lay down and closed her eyes, willing sleep to come. At first it didn’t come easily, but when it did, it enveloped her as though she was exhausted. Then the dreams came.

  She found herself looking up at the beautiful designs in the Ishe’s palace as she walked into the throne room. To her dismay, she found a knife embedded in Ishe Fiten’s chest. Shocked, she ran towards him only to trip and fall over something she couldn’t see. On getting to her feet, she was greeted by two skeletons clad as guards. As they reached for her, she turned around and fled the room. As is typical with most nightmares, she suddenly found herself in another room that was reminiscent of her room in the house of Jorraine Sint. The eerie silence which filled the room caused her to panic and make her way out. It was when she opened the door that she began to hear the moans of Jorraine Sint. She hurried on to find him weeping by the window. Alarmed, she asked, “Tutor, why are you crying?”

  “I have lost everything,” he replied.

  “What do you mean, Sire?”

  That was when she saw the pools of blood he stood in. There was so much blood, the odor suddenly filling her lungs, nauseating her beyond measure. Jorraine Sint turned and said to her, “I have to go now. Please take care of my son. Goodbye Prisca.”

  She ran after him crying, “Please don’t go; tell me what has happened.” As she went through the door, she found herself on the deck of a ship. Before she could make sense of what was going on, she saw Zach Sen surrounded by enemies as he battled for his life. Some of the men that attacked him took notice of her and began after her in heated pursuit. She fled, only to discover that she was no longer on the ship, but in what seemed to be a forest settlement. It was strange, for the buildings had horns and the surrounding trees had faces. Suddenly, a tree turned to look at her, causing her to bolt into one of the buildings out of fear. There, she saw a man just about to stab a dark-haired woman with a spear in his right hand. Before she could scream, she found herself on the roof of the Ishe’s palace.

  Below her she saw extreme chaos: bloodshed, blights, burned houses, streets littered with bodies, the list went on. Squinting, she noticed the Ispri kneeling on the roof of the temple with his hands lifted towards the sky. As she was trying to make out his words, she suddenly heard footsteps behind her. She looked back to find two ladies walk towards her, their eyes focused on the Helesp. Following their gaze, she turned towards the Helesp and saw five people standing on its roof. Amongst them was a dark boy of slim build who stood around five feet five inches tall. There was a worried look on his face as he and another boy went about throwing loaves of bread to the people below. Or were they shooting arrows? Prisca couldn’t decipher.

  Suddenly, a bright light moved with great speed through the chaos and landed on the roof the Helesp. One of the ladies suddenly screamed in excitement and jumped to catch the legs of a large bird which flew towards the Helesp. Curious, Prisca took to the air and flew towards the Helesp where she noticed the light had morphed into Yosi Sint. As she got closer, she could no longer find him, and the girl who hung from the bird had slipped and was falling with boundless speed towards the chaos below. Fortunately, she was caught by a tall man with a face stained with blood.

  In a split second, eerie silence befell and before her was nothingness. Afraid, she flew towards her residence, hoping to find her Aisprises intact. As she flew over the cemetery, she noticed a body lying near one of the gravestones. She descended to make her way towards it. On getting close, she noticed a long blade protruding from the back of a man she knew to be Yosi Sint.

  “Nooooooo!” Prisca screamed as she opened her eyes to find herself in her room once again. Her Aisprises rushed through the door of her room to find her perspiring with a vacant look on her face as she repeatedly proclaimed, “A storm is coming. A storm is coming. A storm is coming…”

  Yosi and Sly made their way towards the Ishe’s palace. Yosi had earlier decided to make the detour towards the Ishe as he saw no need to return to the Helesp before visiting the Ishe.

  “I wonder if you’ve ever experienced fear when facing an opponent,” Sly said as they walked on.

  “No, I usually do not. Having watched my brother and sister die at a young age, I have come to believe that it is the Almighty Spirit who determines when and how a man will die. It is only the Spirit I fear, none else. When I’m in battle, I surrender myself to Him. Regardless of my opponent, with Him by me, I am sure not to lose.”

  “What if you were in battle with one as just and skilled as HN Ruki Sen, do you think you would have won?”

  “To be honest, I do not know, although I would fight with the assumption that I am fated to win.”

  “Impressive!”

  “What of yourself? Do you think you will ever be able to kill, be it in self-defense, to protect a loved one, or to defend your country?” questioned Yosi.

  “I really do not know but I believe I will, if it becomes necessary.”

  “You need to start asking yourself questions such as these now, so as not to hesitate when faced with real situations. In battle, a moment’s hesitation can cost you your life.”

  Sly nodded in reply to the HN’s grave words. He continued to meditate on them as they walked towards the palace, having already crossed the Palace gates. As they neared the building, Sly noticed a tall man on the porch.

  “That must be the Legator, Henri Hart.”

  “Yes,” Yosi confirmed.

  “Wow. He is truly a tall man of ample build. A giant almost. Since as Legator, he directly oversees the execution of battle strategies in addition to supervising the Ishe’s bodyguards, I expect he is ex
tremely well versed in battle. Am I correct?”

  “I have never fought with him, but HN Ruki Sen rated him above Ron Riten and Rosi Lite. According to the HN, he is also a great strategist.”

  “Wow. He is that good,” exclaimed Sly incredulously.

  “Indeed I am,” replied Henri Hart who had overheard the discussion. “Welcome. The Ishe is expecting you, lord HN. You may go in.”

  “May I take the boy with me?”

  “I suppose the Ishe will have no problem with that. Should he wish to discuss with you in private, he can always order the boy out.”

  “True,” Yosi replied.

  “If I may ask, Sire, how tall are you?” Sly was still enthralled by Henri’s build.

  “How tall do you think?”

  “What do I think? Seven feet tall?”

  The Legator laughed as he replied, “That is definitely not what you think. Come on now boy, what do you really think?”

  “Hmm. How about six feet five inches?”

  “Close. Add an inch to that and you’ll be spot on. You, on the other hand, must be three feet two!”

  They both laughed for what was almost ten counts before Henri added, “….plus two feet five inches.”

  “Wow you are more or less correct Sire!” Sly beamed.