Spirits of Falajen

by Ginger Salazar

  “My second choice is that dark gray one. I think you should have a look,” she tugged on his arm to follow her four stalls down from the gelding.

  Etyne carefully examined the rather large mount that almost competed in size with the black one. The horse immediately nuzzled him when he stroked his snout. “It’s as if he’s picking me and not the other way around,” he quietly told Brisethi.

  “You should take him so that we kind of match,” she grinned.

  “How would we match? There’s only one gray horse and one black horse. The rest are brown, white or spotty-calico-colored,” Etyne replied. Then he lowered his head shamefully. “Great, now I’m using adjectives that only you could make up. I can’t wait to get away from you.”

  “Exactly! We’d be the only two with darker horses. I already named mine Abyss in my head. What are you naming him?” She stroked the gray horse’s mane, ignoring the sarcastic jab at her.

  “Abyss is a suitable name for yours,” he stated. He peered into Brisethi’s gray eyes for a moment, remembering that her eyes always reminded him of an approaching storm and her mind was chaotic like a maelstrom. “Tempest.”

  “That’s…actually original,” Brisethi said slowly. “I had no idea you had a single bone of creativity in you,” she teased him.

  “Which further proves my previous statement that we’ve spent way too much time with one another that I’m picking up your bad habits,” he replied sarcastically. But they weren’t bad habits at all. When he recalled the last time he had been with Serythe, she scolded him for using the redundant word, ‘snack-treat’, that Brisethi had embedded in his head, criticising his intelligence. She went so far as to ask him to spend less time with his friend and more time with her on his days off, to include birthday and holiday breakfasts. It was at that moment he realized his time with Brisethi had become priority over Serythe.

  “After spending nearly every day for the past eight years with you, this is going to be a rough goodbye,” Brisethi quietly told him.

  “It’s only four years...or more whenever you get your own division to take on the expedition,” he somberly replied. He held back admitting to her that he’d rather not be without her for four years, either.

  “At least you’ll be busy the next four years! I don’t want a desk job at the Citadel,” she pouted.

  “Ah, it shouldn’t take too long ‘til you’re Captain and given your own division. In the meantime, have fun on recruiter duty,” he jested to lighten their mood.

  Chapter V

  Elion and Livian halted their violin practice when Constable Otoe and two other local officers stepped into the sanctuary.

  “Good evening, gentlemen. Is there anything we can assist you with?” Elion asked, placing his instrument in his case.

  Livian smiled at the familiar police officer. “Constable Otoe! Do you remember me?”

  Otoe smiled and nodded. “Of course I do, Livian, how have you been?”

  Livian replied shortly about how happy she was but noticed the distraction in his face. “But you’re not here for idle chit chat, are you?” She stood slowly, already bracing herself for the notice that she was being removed from the Citadel.

  Otoe shook his head. “Acolyte Hadson, may we step outside for a moment?”

  Elion slowly approached the officers. “What is the problem?”

  “Come outside, please,” the second officer sternly suggested.

  “What’s going on?” Livian asked in earnest.

  “Please stay here, Livian,” Otoe told her as the officers led Elion out of the sanctuary.

  “Elion Hadson,” the female officer began. “You were in southern Sariadne four years ago training an expedition, correct?

  Elion cleared his throat and clasped his hands. “Yes, roughly four and half years ago, it’s my duty as an acolyte to train-”

  “And is it your duty to train known suppressors how to summon their mystics without the consent of the Prelate, the Chief of Police, and the General of the Dominion?” Otoe interrupted.

  Livian remained still inside the sanctuary, listening to every word outside the grand doors. She held a hand to her mouth in shock.

  “Is this about Sergeant Xaviel? He promised me he was going to apply to the Res’Baveth Police Department-” Elion was cut off again.

  “Did you suddenly forget the order of things, Hadson?” the stern female asked. “There are dozens of rules and guidelines of suppression mystics! The kid wasn’t even half a century old!”

  Constable Otoe attempted to calm the situation. “Acolyte Hadson, the man you taught to summon his suppression mystics, did not complete his Dominion Expedition training. He went absent without leave just before they boarded the DSV Reliant. The military commanders searched for him and after a year, deemed him as a lost cause. Little did they know what you had taught him, however.”

  The third police officer finally chimed in. “Last week, both of his parents and his grandparents were murdered. All four of them had their mystics rendered useless, suppressed. A witness claimed she saw her childhood friend, Xaviel, escape the house and she ran after him. When she caught up to him, he confessed to her his power, and his intention to flee to Pahl’Kiar.”

  Elion raked his hands through his hair. “Four people were murdered…” he whispered to himself.

  “And many more to come now that he has defected to our adversary’s nation,” the female added.

  Livian could hold back no more as she stormed out of the sanctuary to face Elion. “Is it true?”

  Elion stared into her tear-filled eyes. He could never lie to her. “Sometimes people make terrible decisions for the promise of wealth.”

  Her eyes widened at the implication. The officers began cuffing his hands behind his back. The Constable tried to tell Livian to go back, but her distress deafened her to the Constable’s plea. “Elion why?” Livian asked when her tears poured out. “You broke your divine oath, destroyed the promise to me. Was this life just a lie? Did you not even think of the consequences, of how this would affect us? Is wealth that much more important to you than me?”

  “Under the Resarian penalty of law, you are hereby under arrest for the unlawful act of suppression instruction. If you choose to speak, it can be held against you during trial,” Constable Otoe told him.

  As they led him away, Elion recalled that he had taught a second Resarian to summon her suppression mystics and panic threatened to overtake him. The thought that the second suppressor could just as well murder innocent people had him contemplating his own purpose in life. He didn’t know which officer was suppressing his own mystics. But now that he was bound, Elion was helpless. He could never outrun the officers to escape his mortal vessel instead of spending his remaining centuries in the Resarian prison.

  Livian fled.

  “I’m sorry, Liv!” Elion shouted after her as the officers led him to the carriage. “I’m so sorry, my dear sweet Livian,” he whispered, his eyes stinging with shame and despair.

  Livian was alone once again. All of the dreams she had shared with Elion shattered before her. She halted before the Dominion ships at the pier. Never again would she trust so many years of her life to anyone. She needed to learn how to be invulnerable and strong minded. She glanced back at the Citadel again. Instead of walking toward the sanctuary, however, she stormed toward the military administration office.

  First Lieutenant Sen Asel shortly greeted the small, blonde woman at the entrance to her office. She was just about to leave for the night, staying later than usual to finish filling out paperwork of new recruits for the upcoming expedition.

  “Is there room for me in the next expedition?” Livian asked the intimidating Dominion officer. Working a third of her life in the sanctuary connected to the Dominion citadel, she had seen uniformed personnel often. But she had never stood before a female officer as tall and strong as the one before her. She nearly lost her nerve.

  Sen Asel sat back down at her desk. She opened a folder cont
aining the roster for the next division readying for the expedition. “You’re in luck. Division sixty-four just had someone back out yesterday before taking the oath. Have a seat, miss…?”

  “Livian Reej,” she replied.

  Sen Asel asked the usual recruitment questions to the girl, starting with her age and any criminal activity in her past. She performed a short psychological evaluation and handed her a fountain pen and a form to fill out. After a few more questions and reading through the completed form, the First Lieutenant stood once more.

  “Before we continue,” she said, “I am obligated to ask if you are absolutely sure that you want to do this.” Judging from the intent expression on the younger girl’s face, Sen Asel guessed correctly that she was determined to follow through.

  “Hold your right hand up like this and repeat after me,” she then ordered. “I, state your name…”

  “I, Livian Reej,” she began.

  “Vow to support and defend Sariadne against all adversaries…” Sen Asel continued. When Livian repeated the words she spoke again. “I will obey the lawful orders of those appointed over me.”

  After Livian spoke the words, she repeated the first lieutenant’s final sentence. “According to the Uniform Code of Dominion Regulation.”

  Sen Asel spent another hour with the new recruit, explaining what to expect and warning her of the terrain and hardships to come. She handed her a booklet of various Dominion instructions. “Division Sixty-Four will leave in two days. Meet here with the other recruits at sixth hour,” First Lieutenant Sen Asel ordered her. “Spirits guide you a safe journey, Private Reej.”

  Livian thanked the officer and slowly walked out of the citadel. She didn’t want to return to the sanctuary, where Elion had left his violin next to hers on the floor. She no longer desired to play the violin or any musical instrument. She bitterly regretted ever having let herself engage so closely with him.

  She watched as Acolyte Roz and Prelate Li’Li somberly departed a carriage parked in front of the sanctuary. They slowly ascended the few wide steps to the doors and turned their heads when Livian approached.

  “Prelate, Acolyte, I took the oath just now. I leave for the expedition in two days,” Livian notified them, revealing her booklet.

  Prelate Li’Li thanked Livian for the information and for her service to the acolytes for the past seven years. Roz mournfully placed a hand on Livian’s shoulder. “I’m very sorry for what Elion did. None of us could have ever suspected him of such treachery.”

  She steeled herself against the threatening tears and nodded curtly. Taking a moment to find her voice, she said stiffly, “I am sorry for the Acolytes’ loss.” Livian desperately wanted to escape their pitying gazes, but forced herself to wait until properly dismissed.

  Acolyte Roz watched as the girl’s form disappeared towards her room. “How much damage can one man cause?” he asked, surprising himself with the anger evident in his voice.

  -:- -:- -:-

  Corporal Livian Reej scowled at the other two girls she had been assigned to share a tent with for the past two years. She was fed up with their constant bickering with one another, crying about boys they missed and their families. They were lazy and tried every way they could think of to get sent home, but her training commanders wouldn’t let them leave as easily as others had.

  “I need to talk to the captain,” Livian demanded.

  “Is that how we talk to our superiors, Corporal?” The female chief replied in a mild voice, but she stepped closer to her to get the point across.

  “Chief, respectfully request to talk to the captain-“

  “Denied. You can talk to me and I’ll relay your message to him when he’s not busy with paperwork,” the chief replied in the same even tone.

  Livian gritted her teeth. “Chief, for the past two years I’ve been the only female able to pass the physical tests, the archery and firearms tests, and I’ve passed every inspection.”

  “That’s why you’re the corporal and they’re still privates. What’s your point?” the Chief sighed.

  “They both want to go home! I’m sick of carrying their burdens and picking up the slack. But if they go home, I would have to go, too, won’t I?” Livian waited patiently for a response.

  “They are going home, what paperwork do you think the captain’s filling out as we speak?” the chief asked.

  “That means you’re going home, too, Reej,” Sergeant First Class Tevor interjected. “Can’t be the only female in a training division. Looks like you’ll have to start over with a whole new division.”

  Livian Reej hated Sergeant Tevor for his chauvinistic, egotistical opinions and dominant personality. She risked physical reprimands each time she expressed her opinion of him. “I was talking with Chief, not you, Sergeant.”

  “Are you disrespecting me right now, female?” Sergeant First Class Tevor snapped, spitting out the last word like a curse. He began shouting in her face a volley of insults and ordered her to hit the ground for physical training.

  The Chief sighed but had to allow the reprimand as per protocol when a recruit was disrespectful. Master Chief Denil approached the young corporal and knelt down next to her to shout words of encouragement instead of insults.

  Livian’s thighs, shoulders and hands burned from the half hour of intensive training she had brought upon herself. When the sergeant and master chief finally left her alone, she collapsed on her side in the dirt to watch the clouds close in on evening.

  The captain of Division Sixty-Four stepped out of the command tent and looked down at the weary recruit below. “On your feet, Corporal,” he ordered.

  Livian’s heart pounded. She wanted to get up to salute the captain and talk to him, but her weakened body would not oblige. Dirt clung to the sweat on her face and body. Her recruit cut hair was partly frizzy and partly matted.

  “Corporal, on your feet. Now,” he repeated, stern but not harsh.

  Struggling, she finally brought herself to stand at attention and saluted him. She didn’t want to withstand the captain’s intensive reprimands that were always more fearsome than the sergeant’s.

  He returned her salute. “Chief Pyraz told me you don’t intend on going home with the other two females in your tent.” He crossed his arms and glared at her in the glow of lantern light.

  Livian glanced around, realizing the Chief had disappeared long ago. She avoided eye contact with the officer, not only because he was her superior, but because of his strange, almost glowing blue eyes that seemed to have no pupils. Having never met a Kiaran before, let alone a half-Kiaran such as her captain, she was still uneasy when in his presence. “Sir, I don’t have a home to go to. I’m too old to remain working and living in the citadel for the acolytes – my room has already been occupied. I’m homeless if you send me back. I don’t want to sleep in an alley ever again, please don’t make me start the expedition over with a new division-“

  “Enough! I’ve had it with the incessant whining from half of this division!” Captain Etyne Vorsen’s voice echoed through the camp, halting each of the other recruits at their evening meal and sending Livian into an anxious wreck. “If one more recruit comes up to me or your other training commanders complaining about the order of things, I will cancel the next three language training sessions and replace them with intensive training sessions, am I understood?”

  “Yes, sir!” The division shouted back.

  Disappointed, Livian turned and started walking back toward her tent.

  “I don’t recall dismissing you, Corporal,” the captain sternly called after her.

  She halted, took a breath, spun on her heel, and walked back to him.

  “Inside,” he ordered as he held the tent flap open.

  He sat on a wooden chair at the desk that had been made to easily take apart for expeditions. He placed a large book in front of the corporal standing at attention. Without even looking, he flipped it open to a page and spoke, “At ease, Corporal. Read this instruction
then tell me in your own words what it means.” He leaned back in his chair to await her response.

  She skimmed over the page reading what she already knew. “It says there can be no fewer than two females in an expedition training division.”

  “Your two tent-mates are going home for failure to adapt. How many females will that leave in the division?” he asked. His steady voice betrayed nothing, but Livian could have sworn she saw the hint of a smile.

  She hesitated, unsure if it was a trick question. “Only me?”

  Captain Vorsen put his hand to his head in exasperation. “Reej, what gender is Chief Korteni Pyraz?”

  Her eyes lit up. “I didn’t realize the instruction also included the division commanders.”

  Vorsen glared up at her through his hand. “I’m not kicking you out of the expedition, even if you did fail at keeping the morale up for your fellow recruits. You will share Chief Pyraz’s tent starting tomorrow when the guards arrive to escort the other two females back to Res’Baveth. Now you are dismissed.”

  Livian couldn’t hold back her smile when she departed, “Thank you, sir.” She nearly skipped back to the tent to collect her things.

  “You’re getting too soft, Sir,” Chief Korteni Pyraz stepped into the tent after the young recruit departed. Korteni smiled warmly at her old friend.

  Etyne leaned his elbows onto the desk. “I don’t enjoy being mean, but I don’t want to train soft soldiers, either. Corporal Reej is strong, stubborn. I can’t let her go home – to nothing.”

  “Speaking of strong and stubborn women, Captain Sen Asel’s division should be here tomorrow night,” she reminded him.