Spirits of Falajen

by Ginger Salazar

  Etyne Vorsen had also inherited a unique spirit. He had the ability to transform his own human vessel into the spirit that empowered him, much like Antuni’s, in order to become invisible to human sight. While in his incorporeal state, he could traverse across great distances in a short amount of time. He’d already known that he could summon protective shields, but he learned that the shields he generated around others distorted the air nearby to make them difficult to detect. “Unless we’re infiltrating the adversary’s homeland, which we never do, I don’t see how my mystic is useful,” he sighed to his trainer.

  “You have no idea how useful you will be to your comrades,” Roz muttered, under his breath.

  The remainder of the recruits had similar, though comparatively weaker, mystics of healing, summoning elements, enhancement, or manipulating air to create shock waves of force. Although acolytes were for hire in Res’Baveth to teach any Resarian how to summon their mystics, only the Dominion Military paid them to train their recruits for half of a year so as to maximize the potential for ultimate defense and destruction against their many adversaries.

  “Now that we’ve all been trained in our mystics, did you still want to go hunt your dragon?” Korteni asked. The girls were readying their tent for night routine.

  “No,” Brisethi quickly replied. “Sergeant Vilkinsen won’t allow it,” she saved herself the factual explanation. The dragon didn’t deserve to die for avenging his mother.

  “But you always get your way, Sen Asel,” chimed in Sulica.

  “Not this again,” sighed Ibrienne.

  Ibrienne, Brisethi thought to herself. They nearly forgot they both had watch that night and raced to don their uniforms and relieve the watch.

  “I don’t even want to imagine what reprimands we’d be receiving right now if you hadn’t remembered,” Ibrienne said to Brisethi as they roved the camp.

  “I would have taken the blame, not to worry. But, I’m thankful you’re on watch with me and not someone who isn’t sociable,” Brisethi added.

  It meant a lot to Ibrienne to know she was appreciated by someone held in high regards to most of the recruits. She smiled and readjusted the rifle on her shoulder. They engaged in various, personal conversations throughout their entire watch. Their trust in one another displayed their loyalty to the point that Brisethi finally revealed to Ibrienne about her peculiar mother.

  “I suppose the first time I had ever disappointed her was the day I was born,” Brisethi spoke with a sigh.

  “I don’t believe that!” Ibrienne said incredulously. They took a break and sat on a downed tree trunk on top of a hill overlooking the entire camp lit by only the light of two moons.

  Brisethi nodded. “I was supposed to have had a twin brother,” she continued. “Two of us were in her womb, but only I took a breath when born.”

  “Oh,” Ibrienne quietly said. “Twins are incredibly rare, considering we’re only able to give birth twice.”

  “The physician said it was because of the amount of smoke she had inhaled just a day before - “ Brisethi stammered. “My mother had been abducted by former Dominion sailors-turn-pirates; trusted friends of my father, who wanted frakshins from him. Apparently he owed them from a bet he lost - I’m not sure, he will never tell me the full story. His is a dark past,” she paused momentarily. “Mother was already at her eleventh month of pregnancy with my brother and I by the time the Dominion caught their ship. But the pirates decided to set their own ship on fire since they were about to be caught anyway. My father and his acquaintances had saved her just in time. That is why she despises destructive mystics, most especially fire. Hence, the second time I had disappointed her with my ‘gift’ of fire mystics.”

  Ibrienne was speechless. She placed her arm around Brisethi’s shoulders to draw her in with comfort. “You’re the strongest person I know, ‘Sethi. Growing up, I always wished I had known my parents. But I couldn’t imagine living with guilt for events that were out of my control, that had caused pain to my mother. I’m very sorry for what she went through and the guilt she is unintentionally putting you through.”

  Brisethi shrugged and smirked. “That’s life, Ibrienne. Everyone is struggling in their own mental, silent battles. All we can do is try not to let others be affected by them. It’s one of the reasons I want to help the Kiarans - they were stripped of this gift of ours thousands of years ago. I understand why they war with us. It is my intention to gain the trust of both nations and bring them back to end both our losses.”

  Ibrienne smiled, “That sounds like a lot of work. But you’re tenacious, I know you can do it.”

  “You’re too kind, Ibrienne,” Brisethi continued. “You grew up without the love and affection of parents, yet here you are, the kindest soul I’ve ever known. Korteni can only wish to be as kind as you,” she teased. She was incredibly fortunate to have made friends with such uniquely gifted spirits.

  Chapter XIV

  The harbor that the division marched to for the final leg of their training was just outside the ancient city of Kiar, once home to the Kiaran Empire. Although the Kiarans had been exiled from their city over three-thousand years prior, some Resarian archeologists spent their lives taking care of the ruins. Mystics of preservation and repair helped them maintain the ancient ruins. Dominion guards were also rotated out to patrol and protect the city from bandits and pirates.

  When the division arrived, they remained on the outskirts of Kiar, grouping up in tens. The recruits were to be escorted by one guard and one archeologist through the ancient city for study and knowledge of their adversary. They were only going to spend one day exploring before marching to the docks in the evening.

  Etyne entered the immense city of his ancestors, trying not to show his excitement, lest his loyalties be questioned. He had never met his father, since Kiarans weren’t allowed on Sariadne; but Etyne vowed to one day seek him out and tell him of his people’s ancient city. Etyne had a trifling feeling of resentment toward his mother for not staying with his father on the continent of Micinity, where the Pahl’Kiar Empire had been rebuilt. But she promised him that one day, she would save enough coin to sneak them both to visit his distant father. He then wondered what his life would have been like living in the Kiaran Empire with Resarian blood, never learning the power of his spirit’s mystic. Would I have served in the Kiaran military, attempting to breach Sariadne’s defenses for them? He shuddered at the thought of living life as the enemy of the Dominion.

  Every primordial, colossal building was made from the red stone found in a nearby quarry of the southern mountains. Built over six thousand years ago, the Kiarans, even then, were an advanced race for their time, and it showed through their massive, daunting architecture. Palm trees were placed geometrically along the cobblestone roads. Vines of yellow and red flowers grew along the stone walls of the estates, sanctuaries, council halls, and even their elaborate arena where games of ancient sports including Chel’kan,were hosted. That had been during the ages where the Resarians and Kiarans were allies and competed against one another in friendly athletic competitions. The main palace was as tall as the current Resarian palace, but also wider and bulkier. The shimmering rooftops, made of copper and scarlet gemstones, shone in the morning sunlight, well preserved by the archeologists.

  The recruits walked through the streets, admiring the architecture and beauty of Kiar. Archeologists were only too happy to narrate their walk, explaining how the Kiarans had supplied the Resarians with much of their current engineering and laid the foundation for further studies.

  Brisethi noticed Etyne had stayed at the rear of the group and hung back to speak to him. “Does it sadden you at all, Etyne?” Brisethi asked, then suddenly realized she had never called him by his first name before.

  He shrugged. “I’m grateful that the Resarians have kept the city looking the same as it did before the Kiarans were exiled. But yes, I am saddened that the Kiarans are too violent to ever return.”

  Brisethi crossed
her arms across her ribs and stated confidently, “When I become leader of the world, I’ll let them come back. They’ll be heavily policed at first, but, once they prove to be peaceful, I’ll eventually withdraw my military from there and let them live their lives peacefully again.”

  “Leader of the world? You are barely co-leading a dilapidated division and you’re already shooting for world domination?” he teased.

  “Hey, I can dream. Dream for the world or not at all, I say,” she smiled.

  He considered the thought of Sergeant Sen Asel ever advancing higher than an army captain in the Dominion. Any more power than that and no one would take someone as eccentric as you seriously, he thought.

  In the ancient palace, Brisethi had become entranced by one of the extravagant art pieces. It was an oil painting dating back four thousand years depicting what appeared to be Mt. Alusan erupting. In the distance, dragons circled the peak in the ash and embers of its aftermath.

  Sulica and Ibrienne walked up beside her to see what she was fixated on. “Ugh, you and your dragons,” Sulica scoffed and hurried away with a flip of her hair.

  “Do you think other dragons still exist?” Ibrienne asked, an air of wonder in her voice.

  “Yes,” Brisethi replied. She quickly amended her statement. “I mean, there’s no way we could have found and killed every single one of them. Maybe they migrated to the other continents, or just an island we haven’t yet discovered.”

  “I suppose it could be possible that the dragon who killed that division had flown from a distant island,” Ibrienne said, remaining optimistic.

  Korteni and one of the recruits she recently befriended, Jymi, joined the girls at the painting.

  “Dragons,” Corporal Jymi Wylis enthusiastically blurted out. He was just as fascinated by the piece as Brisethi and started a conversation about the illusions he would have of them every time he ate a particular type of mushroom.

  Brisethi smiled at his story, but she was unable to tear her eyes from the picture. The more she studied it, the more she felt that one of the flying forms seemed disturbingly familiar.

  The daylight hours passed by all too quickly exploring the city. Soon it was time for the division to ready their gear, don their sailor uniforms, and march down to the harbor.

  The port of Kiar had once been very large and prosperous, the southern center of trade. After the Kiarans were banished, the port became a small naval base for the Dominion. Only three wooden docks remained, stretching from the sandy shores out into the crystal water where the dwindling sunlight played upon the small waves. Moored at the farthest dock was a large, majestic galleon. Three masts reached high into the air, their black and red sails furled tightly. The ship itself was deep red in color, as though made of mahogany. DSV Reliant was stenciled in gold letters on the side.

  The recruits formed up on the pier where they were greeted rather brusquely by Naval Commander Maerc Nessel and Master Chief Mattias Braul.

  The sun had long since set behind the mountain when the Master Chief finally ended his lecture about Dominion Navy in the most dramatic tone Brisethi had ever heard from a person. “Lack of attention to detail will get someone killed in the fleet. The moment I catch any of you not doing your job, I will have you removed from the Dominion. Your last three years will have meant nothing. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Master Chief!” the division shouted in unison.

  Master Chief gave the order for dismissal, and Division Forty-One boarded the DSV Reliant the way they had just been taught- saluting the Dominion flag, and requesting permission from the watch officer to board. Brisethi Sen Asel was pulled aside by Sergeant First Class Vilkinsen as soon as she boarded. “She’s all yours,” he told Master Chief Braul as she was shoved next to Vorsen, Crommick and a third unrecognizable Sergeant.

  “Are you serious, Vilkinsen? You promoted her? Vorsen and Crommick could have taken care of the division just fine without her.” The familiar voice of Chief Baljien Renast echoed on the deck.

  “Renast! Where the fuck have you been?” Vilkinsen called, patting his fellow senior enlisted commander on the shoulder when he was within reach.

  “Clearing the way for your pathetic group to catch up to us,” he sneered.

  “Considering you had our horses for the past two years, I’d hope you did something productive.” Vilkinsen’s tone quickly darkened. “You cleared nothing for us – we were ambushed the night you left.”

  Renast lowered his voice, low enough that Brisethi and the others had to strain to hear him. “I heard about that, man, you lost nearly half the division in the attack? Then the crazy mouthy bitch executed the enemy squadron without even questioning them, right? So you promoted her? Are you out of your fucking mind, Vilkinsen?”

  “Hey, fuck you, man,” Vilkinsen retorted, making no effort to keep his own voice down. “You left us for three years on some ‘scouting’ tangent of yours, failing to find the lost division which my people found. It was my recruits who defended themselves against an experienced, large group of the adversary. It was me alone who trained them to become the warriors they are today and will be for the rest of their lives.” He glared at the Chief. “So fuck you. We thought you were killed in action but it appears you were just absent without leave, you fucking coward.”

  Renast flushed at the harsh words. “You could have sent for a replacement, you know.”

  Vilkinsen scoffed, “Didn’t really need three more commanders for half a division. I knew my recruits were competent enough to help lead.” Vilkinsen didn’t add that he’d instructed close to forty expeditions already and hardly needed the help of fellow commanders.

  Commander Nessel finally interrupted and took control of the two division commanders, escorting them to his cabin for debriefing. Master Chief Braul was left with the four highest ranking recruits left to him by Vilkinsen and Renast. They were no longer Sergeants of the Dominion Army, but Petty Officer Second Classes for the Dominion Navy.

  Master Chief Braul was already familiar with Petty Officer Kanilas Trenn since Chief Renast had shown up a couple of days prior with his group of ten recruits, implying they had scouted ahead for two days, not two and a half years. He stood in front of Petty Officer Crommick to inspect his uniform, then looked over at Vorsen and Sen Asel, who was adjusting her neckerchief. “You three have half an hour to cut your hair back into regulation standards and make sure everyone else does the same.”

  “Aye, Master Chief,” they replied in unison.

  “Dismissed,” Master Chief responded.

  Chapter XV

  Sleeping in the small rack of the ship felt like a cloud compared to the thin bedrolls the division had been using on the ground the past three years. The ship’s berthing at least had thin mattresses, with each rack stacked three high against the wall, or bulkhead. The small amount of room in the compartment seemed that much smaller after the open wilderness. The smooth, rocking movement of the ship listing upon the waves brought sleep to even the most anxious of recruits. Unfortunately, the amount of sleep they were allowed was much less than they were used to.

  It was still dark when the crew mustered at the fifth hour, standing in formation to await the officer of the deck. The division inspected each other in their new sailor uniforms to ensure no one would receive unwanted reprimands. Their uniforms were still black and trimmed in crimson but their gold insignia was now on their sleeve, opposite the arm of their ranks. The cloth was made of the same light and airy fabric as their desert garb, but more fitted with intricate designs at the inseams and on the red neckerchiefs. Men wore snug garrison caps while women wore bandanas over their head to keep their hair from falling into their face while mooring lines, handling sails or dropping anchor.

  “I feel like a pirate,” Brisethi jested under her breath, causing Korteni to giggle just as Master Chief Braul and Commander Nessel approached the front of the formation.

  “Attention on deck!” Shouted the sailor who was first to see the ship’s c
aptain.

  “What’s the joke? Do share, Petty Officer Pyraz,” the Master Chief said, coming to stand in front of her, his arms crossed.

  Brisethi answered instead. “No joke, Master Chief. I muttered something comical, not thinking anyone would actually hear me.”

  “What was muttered?” His eyes narrowed further with each word as every other recruit tensed up. They were quickly learning that their new leader didn’t have the same sense of humor as Sergeant Vilkinsen.

  “I…I only remarked that I felt like a pirate, Master Chief” she stammered. Immediately, she felt that she should have lied, but she was never good at lying to people.

  “Centuries of Dominion Navy tradition are instilled into these uniforms!” Master Chief Braul began. A lantern’s glow revealed a single vein in his forehead growing larger and his face turning red. “I will not allow my petty officers to mock navy customs onboard my ship!” He grabbed Brisethi by her neckerchief and forced her to walk forward to the railing. “Do you want to be treated like a pirate, Sen Asel?” he hissed.

  “No, Master Chief!” Her voice cracked. She kept her hands on her neckerchief to keep from strangling which only allowed him to use his other hand to pick her up and easily dangle her over the edge above the restless sea. She was terrified of drowning and gripped the master chief’s arms to alleviate the pain and pressure around her throat.

  He brought her toward him briefly, “Go be a pirate elsewhere, shipmate!” Pushing her back away from him, he released his grasp on her. His laugh was as loud as her scream.

  She hit the saltwater hard and unevenly, unable to take a breath long enough before hitting the surface and sinking. Panic started to set in as she struggled against the waves. Just before she lost hope, her hands found the surface once more, fighting to stay afloat. The sky had finally turned a lighter shade of blue to welcome the morning sun as she stared up at the ship’s sails. She splashed around and attempted to swim back to her temporary home.