“You don’t have to explain anything to me. If it’s what you need to do to be able to cope, then I will listen,” Etyne softly replied.
Through the dozens of military training lectures given to the soldiers and sailors, it was rape and sexual assault that had been almost overly discussed. It wasn’t something that a person could overcome quickly nor did it require someone else to help them. Just because Resarians were inhabited by divine spirits, didn’t mean they were incapable of committing crimes against one another.
She couldn’t find her voice anymore, not to a man she considered her best friend. She handed him her papers instead. “Proof-read for me?”
Etyne reluctantly nodded, looking over what she had written. He overlooked her limited vocabulary and focused on her story at hand. She left no details out. It sickened him to know that his best friend had gone through such atrocious violations. There was nothing he could do for her or say.
They neatly stacked their completed reports, letters to home, and pens upon the table. Brisethi handed her sketch of starfall to Etyne. He smiled in appreciation of the gesture and folded it to place in his pocket. The two strangers to the warship allowed Chief Kayula to escort them to the galley where they met with Livian and Korteni.
“What are they serving? Is it any good?” Brisethi asked upon approaching the two uniformed women.
“It’s your favorite, chicken dumpling pie,” Korteni replied and shoved her last bite into her mouth. “Remember how excited you used to get when we were training on the Reliant? Every third day of the week you were pushing the other recruits out of the way and causing fights in the galley for fear they’d run out of pie and serve you leftover watery oats again.”
“I didn’t push just anyone, mostly Sulica and Kanilas for holding up the line-”
“That usually ended up in riots,” Etyne concluded for Brisethi.
“Did you really, Ma’am?” Livian asked incredulously.
Brisethi smartly nodded and was off to the serving line with Etyne on her heels. They acquired their food and returned to Korteni’s table, taking seats across from each other.
“I’m going to give Sergeant Reej a tour of the warship,” Korteni told them as she left with a wave and Livian following.
Too excited to wait for her food to cool down, Brisethi shoved a spoonful of chicken pie into her mouth, instantly regretting the burning decision and letting it fall back onto her food. “Oh, that’s fresh out of the oven.”
“’Sethi what – you’re the epitome of a lady, you know that?” Etyne sarcastically scolded his unmannered friend. “How is it even possible for you, as a fire mystic, to feel burns?” After recollecting the burn marks upon the sides of her head, he immediately regretted asking.
She blew on her spoon of food several times then successfully consumed it. “I can’t explain it. My outer flesh is unaffected by fire and even sunburns, but I can’t just pour lava into my mouth,” she paused momentarily. “The burns on my head were caused from electricity through metal, not fire. Oh that reminds me, after this I need to show you what I can do.”
Etyne finished chewing a chunk of chicken before speaking. “I thought I’ve seen you do everything there is that a fire mystic can do.”
She shook her head, smiling suspiciously.
Upon finishing their meal, they returned their trays to their designated spot and walked out of the galley. The call for muster sounded on each deck as the sailors gathered in their designated spots. Once each member of the crew had been accounted for, they prepared the ship for underway operations.
Etyne and Brisethi found their way to the deck after a few dead ends and wrong ladder wells. “That’s the last time I follow you,” Etyne quipped to her. “I trusted you.”
“I don’t know why you would trust my navigation of this beastly warship,” she replied. She observed the masts and sails lit by dozens of lantern lights and led him to the stern of the ship where it was practically deserted. She stood in front of Etyne, making sure all of his attention was on her alone. “For my first demonstration, I shall disappear.”
In the blink of an eye he watched her vessel disintegrate into a small, red flame levitating before him. The shocked expression on his face was priceless to her when she rematerialized before him a second later.
“First of all,” he began with a finger pointed at her, “You called me stupid when I asked if you could do exactly that way back when we were retaking the Reliant from pirates.”
She grinned widely. “I don’t remember saying that. But in my defense, I couldn’t do it at the time!”
Etyne crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.
“And now, for my final act,” she continued and simply waved goodbye to him. Her vessel disintegrated once more but into a bolt of lightning spanning to the crow’s nest. As quickly as it had flashed, it was gone, and so was she.
Temporarily blinded from the bright flash, Etyne suspiciously looked around and turned his eyes upward to where the bolt had struck. He summoned his own mystic to turn himself into an incorporeal form and instantly appeared next to her in the crow’s nest. “When did you find out you could turn yourself into fire and lightning?” he excitedly asked, leaning against the railing.
“Just a few hours ago, before boarding the Sovereign,” she replied. “I accidently ran up a bell tower, found myself trapped, and did what anyone with this capability would do – jumped off.”
“You already knew you could become fire?” he asked, raking his fingers through his hair. She enjoyed the confused look on his face.
“Oh no, it was a hunch,” she grinned.
He resisted the urge to strangle her for such recklessness with her life and instead, gave her a scornful glare. “Your spirit was returned to you, and you’re fucking jumping from buildings on a hunch?” The sounds of the ship’s horns and the flashing beams of mystical light announcing its departure only enhanced the apparent rage on his face.
“It’s your fault, you know,” she glared back, crossing her arms.
“How so?” he said and finally relaxed, unable to remain seriously upset at her. Etyne was still concerned about her, but he hid it from his face. He looked over the railing to watch the sailors ready the sails for departure. The anchor was brought in and seconds later, the DSV Sovereign was carried off by the wind across the dark, calm sea.
“It’s your mystics that I’m summoning, Etyne. Just as you can become an incorporeal spirit, I can become my mystic’s elements now. You gave me your mystics in addition, to your…” her voice trailed off. She turned away a little and leaned on the railing.
“Damn,” he whispered. “You’re practically invincible, ‘Sethi. What have I created?” He diverted his eyes from her to examine her hands as if he had actually created her.
The corners of her mouth formed a smile. “You’ve created a power like no other. And I will be sure to put it to good use: In a future – where Sariadne opens up its borders to the Kiarans once again under the rule of the Dominion.”
“But at what cost, ‘Sethi?” he asked with concern on his face.
She felt a pang in her heart at remembering his shortened life. “As grateful as I am for your mystics, for saving me, I wish I could return your lifespan to you.”
“That isn’t what I meant. The cost of what you had to go through that enabled me to perform the act - was that worth it to learn my mystics? There are other ways…” his voice trailed off not wanting to give her the impression that he intended to intimately bond his soul with hers.
She shrugged. “It’s over now, they can’t harm me anymore. The damage is done and I will fully recover from it.”
-:- -:- -:-
The crew of the Kiaran diplomatic vessel bustled about in anticipation of the port call ahead. When Sulica emerged from her cabin, preparations were already well underway for the task of mooring the ship in Vipurg. She soon found herself swept up in the excitement and spent the afternoon assisting the crew in clearing the topside deck o
f debris. That evening, the cooks took the opportunity to use all the potentially expiring ingredients, creating an unidentifiable combination of food, but it still tasted good.
The mooring process lasted several hours, well into the afternoon. When the call finally came for liberty, Sulica accompanied Ekani into the city of Vipurg. The pier stretched out along the bay for quite a distance. On the shore lay the walled city, with large wooden doors propped open to welcome the traders, merchants, and visitors. The frigid air pierced Sulica’s thin clothing, and she bemoaned the loss of her thick leather jacket, presumably still on board the Hantira.
The city seemed to be divided into quadrants. Buildings made of wood and stone huddled close together in the trading sector. Shops, inns, and taverns with bright glass windows showed cheery scenes of revelry within. A particularly large building stood in the center of the square, topped with a carved head of what looked like a large deer. The antlers appeared to be bowled at the base rather than branched like a tree.
“It’s called an elk,” Ekani told her, noticing where she was looking. He led her to the building and walked inside. The majority of the people inside looked much like herself, except taller. It was noisy inside the lodge, filled with laughter and boisterous storytelling, not only from the sailors.
Ekani ordered a couple of drinks and directed Sulica to a corner where he introduced her to an apparent life-long friend of his. The two men took turns swapping embarrassing stories of one another as the drinks continued, causing Sulica to alternatively blush and laugh from the Kiaran words she was able to make out. Aderok Simtel seemed particularly interested in making Sulica blush, giving her a wink after a particularly raunchy recounting of a childhood adventure in Pahl’Kiar. “He came outta there grinning like a possum eating a sweet potato, eh, Vorsen?” Simtel said, laughing heartily. Ekani seemed like he couldn’t decide whether to join or hide behind his drink.
“You must forgive him,” Ekani said later when leaving the lodge. “He has not seen a woman in weeks.”
“So what’s your excuse?” Simtel chuckled, elbowing Ekani. He bid them good-night and took off, presumably in search of another drink.
Ekani and Sulica began the journey back to the ship. They stayed close to brace against the chill, despite the calm night. “Are women not allowed to serve?” Sulica asked, realizing she had not yet seen one on board the ship.
“Oh, they are,” he replied. “Just in limited capacities such as medical and logistics, mostly. And never on a ship bound for Lantheus.”
Given her own experience of Lantheun hospitality, she did not fault the Kiarans for their reasoning. “He called you ‘Vorsen’,” she stated after they crossed the gangplank.
“Yes.” A look of confusion crossed his face. With sudden realization, he continued, “I never did give you my full name.” He paused and extended his hand to her. “Ekani Vorsen, Kiaran ambassador to Lantheus,” he said in half-mocking formality.
She smiled and took his hand. “Sulica Nin, commander of the Hantira.”
Ekani returned the smile and half-bowed gracefully, still holding her hand. When he let go, they continued through the passageway in the direction of their cabins. Glancing at him, she asked, “Is Vorsen a very common name?”
He thought for a moment. “Not that I am aware of,” he said. “It is a very old name, though. Anyone in Pahl’Kiar who bears it is of direct descent of an ancient Kiaran line. There are not many of us left. I believe my father and I are the only ones now.” His voice had a hint of finality to it.
Biting her lip, Sulica remained silent until they reached her door. “Sleep well,” she called to him as she quickly entered the cabin and shut it behind her.
As she lay in the bed that night, her mind pondered what Ekani had told her. What if he’s not the last one? she thought. Would he be happy? Should I even tell him? She rolled on her side to face the wall. What if he’s wrong and it’s just a coincidence? She convinced herself that it was possible a Vorsen from Ancient Kiar managed to stay in Sariadne and that was how Etyne had come to have the name. Except Etyne is truly half-Kiaran, she reminded herself as she drifted off to sleep.
-:- -:- -:-
The next morning found Brisethi sitting upon the examination bed in the infirmary, shivering in only her underclothes. She flared her heating mystic to force her goose bumps to dissipate. She was already nervous at the thought of having someone examine her and worried that the Dominion would see her unfit for duty, sending her home with a small pension until she found other work. The fear that her ambitions to influence military leaders across the world could cease forever had her mind uneasy and stomach wrenching.
What could I possibly do if I was no longer in the Dominion? She thought, biting on her lower lip. She shuddered at the thought of no longer having any kind of authority and going back to wearing civilian clothes. Her bleak future probably included marrying Joss and living the life he and her own mother wanted her to have. As long as those flashbacks never return, they should allow me to stay in, she thought desperately.
“Captain Sen Asel,” the blonde-haired female corpsmen entered the room. “I am Lieutenant Commander Jeksan. Are you feeling well, this morning?”
Brisethi wanted to vomit her anxiety. “I’m great, Ma’am,” she nervously replied.
The corpsman looked over a few sheets of paper before continuing. “That’s good to hear. I was given the report you wrote last night to have an understanding of what you went through,” she gave her a worried look. “My deepest regrets that you had to endure such atrocities, Captain.”
Brisethi shrugged, unsure of how to reply. Anything she tried to say would only cause her voice to crack and tears of self-pity to fall.
“Before I start the examination, is there anything you want to tell me that you might have left out in this record?” she kindly asked.
Brisethi considered the question for a moment, pursing her lips in thought. She shook her head and said, “I think I was as detailed as possible with everything.”
The Lieutenant Commander eyed the papers once more before making eye contact with the captain. Her piercing, cerulean eyes reminded Brisethi of Livian. “I’m just going to ask a few questions while I poke and prod you for pressure points and out of place bones. When was the last time anyone applied healing mystics to you and by who?”
“The day I was rescued by Captain Vorsen’s team, by Ibrienne Sestas – about seven or eight days ago.” She replied.
“Are you currently pregnant, nursing or think you may be pregnant?”
“Nope.”
“What was your last month and year of womb blood?”
Brisethi scrunched her brow in recollection of her last yearly Resarian cycle. “Sesswint, this year - it’s usually around that month every year.”
Jeksan wrote the information in her log. “Tell me about your eating habits.”
Brisethi explained her eating habits to her, answered more questions about her physical endurance, her sleeping patterns, her dreams and various other personal questions regarding her mental health.
Jeksan applied her healing mystics upon Brisethi to finish what Ibrienne had started. She removed any trace of Lantheun infection or virus, cleansing her blood, her spirit, and her flesh. The tingling sensation of healer’s mystics left Brisethi in a state of deep relaxation, almost a meditation. The corpsman spoke again after a moment’s pause, “Ibrienne’s healing was nearly flawless despite how rushed she had been. It really is too bad she has defected from us.”
Brisethi nodded in dismal agreement of losing a talented and benevolent friend in a complicated mess of personal bad decisions. Depending on Ibrienne’s circumstances, and once Brisethi was of higher rank, she would seek out her estranged companion and question her in hopes of justifying her return to Sariadne without repercussions.
The doctor’s warm hands pressed upon Brisethi’s forehead and chest to search her mind and spirit for deficiencies. “Does Captain Vorsen’s mystics overpower yours a
t all or do you have control of it?” she asked.
“They do not overpower me. And yes, I have control over them, I can summon them as well,” she replied, overcome by the officer’s mystics flowing through her mind and soul. The feeling of another spirit flowing through hers felt very intimate, almost euphoric.
“No amount of medals and commendations from the Dominion could ever measure up to a person who willingly cuts his lifespan in half so that someone else can live,” the corpsman said solemnly. “The ultimate sacrifice of life given to you can never be repaid by material objects,” Jeksan sympathetically told her. “And for that, I will not have let his sacrifice be in vain by discharging you from the Dominion. Your dangerous flashbacks that you forgot to mention are enough to send you home.”
Brisethi felt an inner panic attack rise once again. She must have read Etyne’s report, too, she feared he may have revealed too much. Anyone who paints on a wall with their own blood was surely considered insane and mentally unfit for duty.
Lieutenant Commander Jeksan removed her hands from Captain Sen Asel and looked her squarely in the eyes. “But Captain Vorsen assures me that you have found a way to keep them under control. You will resume your training of Division Sixty-Six under the supervision of Lieutenant Vazeley until the graduation ceremony. If his reports to Major Paush show that your mental health is unchanged by these flashbacks, and that no one was hurt, you will no longer require supervision. However, if your health declines and the flashbacks prove uncontainable, then it will be up to the command’s corpsman to make his or her decision of your career.”
“Thank you, Ma’am,” Brisethi gratefully exhaled her reply, observing the white lines left on her skin where the skin was healing over her scabs. Lieutenant Commander Jeksan’s mystic had removed the disgusting sores, only leaving behind permanent diminutive scars.
“You do know what’s causing those flashbacks, right?” Jeksan asked.
Brisethi shook her head.
Spirits of Falajen Page 40
