by C. K. Rieke
Then she turned to Bellaton who had a strong will, and continued to parry with Lilaci, unfazed by the loss of the other girl. With a swirling and flying of hardened wood in the fight, the two let their staffs whirl and fly at each other. The constant clacking sound of the staffs echoed off the high walls of Sorock under the hot sun. Neither girl seemed to be giving into the fatigue of the constant fighting, until, Lilaci caught a momentary inkling of an opportunity.
In the heat of combat, she noticed that when Bellaton shifted her feet to move into the Koriinyago pose, her form wasn’t complete, and her back leg didn’t twist like it was supposed to. Her balance will be off if she’s pressed hard backward. All I have to do is get her to strike hard at my hip, and I can . . . So, Lilaci, baited her with a fake opening at her hip, which Bellaton took without hesitation. But to her surprise, Lilaci jumped back, just out of range of the staff, and thrust hers forward towards Bellaton’s abdomen. The girls only choice, as she was caught in an awkward position with her staff moving forward and Lilaci’s staff heading right for her stomach, was to pit her staff into the ground so she could push herself back.
Lilaci quickly sent her foot onto Bellaton’s staff on the hard dirt, and instead of striking into her stomach, pulled her staff straight up, knocking Bellaton in the chin with a sharp crack, and sent her head flying back.
“Argh!” the girl sighed.
Lilaci stood there, breathing heavily, her head low as her shoulders moved up and down from the breaths. Elan looked slightly confused, as Bellaton held her chin, blood dripping through her fingers.
“I fold,” Bellaton said, breathing heavily as well, and fully exhausted.
“Do you yield?” Lilaci said, her voice unwavering.
Bellaton and Zerashan both bowed their heads slowly. Elan clapped her hands to signal the end of the fight. But as Lilaci looked over at her, she saw something different in her instructor’s face. Instead of signaling all of the girls to step back outside of the circle of rope, she only signaled for the two girls to do so. Something is wrong. This is all different. This isn’t just some normal demonstration for the commander. This is a test, they are testing me for something in front of all of Sorock. Did I pass?
Then Lilaci got her answer.
Elan, in a voice that echoed throughout the camp, yelled, “Fewn.”
Chapter Five
Fewn walked into the ring with her hardened, dark-wood staff in her hands. Lilaci still stood there panting and sweating. Her staff was slick in her hands and she looked over at the commander, who gave her another slight nod. She looked over at Fewn, with her dark eyes like a moonless night, and saw she was brimming with energy, ready to pounce on Lilaci with a vengeance with her staff. She had a hunger in those dead eyes.
How is this happening? I can hardly catch my breath, and now I have to beat Fewn now? Even when I’m fully fresh, I have a hard time beating her, she’s strong, and she’s getting better with every passing day. But— so am I.
There they stood, in the center of the fighting circle. Lilaci looked to not only see the girls from the bunk standing around watching, but quite a crowd had gathered. She tried not to pay too much attention, as she had a difficult fight ahead of her. Looking over, however, there was one thing that encouraged her and re-lit the fire inside of her— Gogenanth was there— standing, watching. He was taller than all the others, and easily stood out in the crowd, he was careful to give no indication they knew each other, but she could sense the power he gave her.
Elan clapped, and the battle was on. Immediately Fewn attacked. She battered Lilaci with side to side swings, making her parry in a mad fury to keep up with her quick blows. Clack, clack, clack, clack echoed within the walls. Lilaci kept moving back slowly in a circular pattern, as to not be backed up against the red rope. It took all of her concentration just to keep up with the defense. She looked into Fewn’s eyes and saw the fury of the gods.
Fewn grunted with each blow, each harder than the last. Lilaci watched her form, searching for any weakness, any vulnerability in her poses, yet she found none. And as strong as Lilaci was, she could feel her arms, shoulders and hands beginning to buckle under the constant barrage of blows. She knew she was going to lose, if she didn’t make something happen, and quickly. Lilaci tried to find her inner fire again, the same fire she used against the last girls, but she was so encompassed with defense, she found it difficult. So, she decided to try and outsmart her.
She patiently blocked, as the staffs smacked together quickly, and waited for the time Fewn’s rage would make her reveal a mistake. Then, there it was, almost imperceptible, but Lilaci noticed her right hand slightly slip on the staff from the sweat on her palm. It was no more than a few centimeters, but that was the only signal she’d found in the fight thus far.
Lilaci blocked each blow, arcing shot, and thrust— all the while watching that one hand slip further down the shaft of the staff. She could feel the unbalance of the blows as they were forced down on her by the unrelenting Fewn. Her dark eyes were growing wild with fury, and frustration.
My chance is coming, and I’ve only got one shot at it. Once its done, she’ll know to reposition her grasp, and she may win, as I’ll be exposed. But it has to be now. Right . . . Now! Quickly, Lilaci waited for the end of Fewn’s staff to come down with another predictable blow at her side, yet instead of merely blocking it, she shoved her feet deep into the ground and thrust up with all her might on that weak side of Fewn’s staff. The collision forced Fewn’s hand and staff back above her shoulder, and in her surprise, Lilaci smashed the other end of her staff into Fewn’s thigh. Fewn didn’t fall or groan, but she stepped back with her face full of disdain. The round was ended by the vicious blow. Yet, the crowd remained calm, eerily quiet actually.
Fewn shook her head to seemingly reset herself, and let out a grunt in preparation for the last round, whoever won this, won the battle.
“Not this time,” she said as she faced Lilaci. “Not this time.”
Then, the second round began with a clap of Elan’s hands, and as quickly as the first started, Fewn shot towards her like a flying arrow, and erupted blow after blow on her. This time her rage was doubled, and her blows hit even harder. Lilaci’s hands were covered in sweat, and she knew she couldn’t match Fewn’s power for long, so she went with another strategy— evasion. She rolled away quickly, and gave herself enough time to wipe the sweat from her brow and wipe her hands on her red sash so she could get a good grip on her staff once more. Fewn walked towards her with her staff at her side.
“Come now,” she said with a bitter tone. “Face me!” She took her staff to her side and swung with both hands at Lilaci, who knelt to the side, and rolled away again to safety.
“I’m not afraid of you,” Lilaci said. “I’m just giving you a second to gather yourself. I want to give you some time to enjoy this fight before you lose again.”
The audience watched in tense silence. Fewn lunged forward and began to lay on onslaught of blows on Lilaci again, grunting with each blocked one. Lilaci could feel her muscles swelling with blood, and the sweat began to roll into her eyes again, stinging them. Fewn wasn’t making any perceivable mistakes and was getting close to winning the round. Lilaci could feel the staff getting heavier in her hands.
I can’t rely on her to make another mistake, Fewn’s too good to give me another opportunity like that. I’ve got to improvise. If I was in her position, what would I expect me to do in this scenario? And what wouldn’t I expect? I’d expect me to wait for a mistake, and take advantage. What I wouldn’t expect was . . .
Lilaci could barely hold onto her staff much longer, and in her desperation, she gave up on trying to take advantage of Fewn’s movement and watched as Fewn tried to sweep Lilaci’s feet out, and Lilaci threw her boot down onto the tip of Fewn’s staff, shoving it into the ground. With her other foot, Lilaci took one step up Fewn’s staff, putting it just under her grip and leapt over Fewn, flipping and landing nearly without a sound behin
d her.
Fewn, left stunned, tried to turn to face Lilaci who’d just flipped directly over her, but she quickly found a hard thrust in the back of her knee from Lilaci’s staff, forcing her to a kneeling position. Lilaci looked up at the commander, whose face was stoic. However, Elan had quite a look of surprise, as Lilaci had never been taught that move. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gogenanth with an almost imperceptible smile on his face.
Elan clapped her hands, as Fewn shoved Lilaci’s staff from the back of her leg. Lilaci could tell Fewn wanted to fight her, not in a sparring match, but a real fight. She wanted a sword. But instead she threw her staff at Lilaci’s feet. With great reluctance, Fewn gave a paltry bow and stormed off out of the circle of rope, a small group of the girls had to separate to let her through. Lilaci bowed at Elan, who gave a proud smile. Then she bowed over at Veranor, but she didn’t look at his face, she instead tried to look indirectly at Gogenanth who stood behind the commander, who gave a slight, yet secret nod of approval.
Lilaci wiped the sweat from her face, calmed her breathing, and smiled.
She’d passed her greatest test yet, and possibly the greatest physical test of any girl in Sorock. The feeling of beating the best of the other girls in one day fell down into her stomach with a warming sensation that she’d pleased Elan in front of Commander Veranor. And best of all— she was still Oncur.
Chapter Six
That night after they’d eaten supper and Lilaci refueled her body, she was asked to join the commander privately. She knocked gently on the door to his office, it was a red-painted heavy wooden door. It opened quickly and Veranor stood with this shoulders back, to the side, not motioning for her to enter, but she knew to walk in and stand behind the seat in front of his desk. On his desk he had two candles on the table, one half-melted, the other, freshly-lit. There was a half-full ashtray of pipe tobacco and scattered sheets of parchment.
“Lilaci,” he said, as he took a seat behind the desk. He motioned to the seat in front of her, and she sat.
“Commander,” she said, and bowed her head. I’ve never met with the commander privately. He’s much more intimidating in person. His legacy is so renowned in Sorock, I’d be lucky to have half the accolades he has. I think I’m actually nervous around him.
“How was your supper this evening?” he asked.
“Fine, sir.”
“You know we try to supply ample nourishment, as well as satisfying flavors to you all,” he said. Lilaci looked and saw the top button of his green uniform was undone. She thought it was unusual for him. She nodded. He sat back in his seat, interlocked his fingers and lay them on his chest. “That was quite the demonstration you put on today. That was a true test of will, and you exceeded your teacher’s expectations, I hope you know.”
“I’m happy I was able to please Elan.” The greatest honor I can bestow upon my teacher is to continue to win— to continue to be the best.
“It pleased your commander as well,” he said.
“I’m happy to hear that.”
He sat for a moment looking at her, and looking around the room. Lilaci was curious where the conversation was going, she felt awkward sitting in silence.
“I’d invite you to partake in a celebratory tradition we have in our community. It’s usually reserved for those who have graduated from Sorock, but I think you’ve earned it today.” He pulled a drawer out from the back of his desk, and fumbled around in it slightly. Pulling a corked bottle and two small ceramic cups from it. He set the bottle on the table with a thud, and the two cups clicked the wooden surface.
“What’s that?”
“Its a drink— it eases the mind and body. I’m sure you’re weary from today’s classes.” He uncorked the bottle and poured some into each of the two cups. “Here, try it.”
She grabbed it with three fingers and skeptically held it up to her nose. Inhaling deeply, she winced and pulled it from her nose.
“Here, like this,” he said. “No need to smell it.” He took the cup to his lips and swallowed a gulp of it. “Don’t smell, just drink and swallow.”
So she did. She swallowed, which was difficult as the liquid was thick like milk and burned on the way down. She let out a brief cough, but fought off any show of pain, not wanting to offend her superior.
“Good,” he said, with a rare smile. “Finish up.”
He watched intently as she took the rest of the cup into her mouth and swallowed again. It was harder that time, but at least it was over. Her eyes watered and she sat as her head became foggy and her fingers tingled. The commander glared at her, but didn’t speak, but he poured them both another fill. She looked down in worry, but watched as he took his and gulped it down wholly, without hesitation. He looked up into her eyes.
She gripped the clay cup and brought it up to her lips. Her body resisted but she put half into her mouth and forcefully swallowed. Then she took the rest and laid the cup back on the table, gulping down the rest.
“Anything else, sir?” she asked, which seemed to catch him off-guard.
He seemed to not know how to respond, and an angry expression appeared on his face.
“Anything else—” he stammered. “No, take your leave.”
She stood, bowed low, and left out the front door, back out into the cool breeze under the moonlight. She didn’t realize it, but the liquid made her sweat and the winds felt refreshing. Her body and mind did feel slower, and more relaxed, but she was left with an awful taste in her mouth. She went over to a fountain and drank handfuls of water, and then went off back to her barracks.
Later that night, after she’d rested slightly, and the other girls were sound asleep, Lilaci made her way silently out of her bunk and left the barracks. He knew he’d be waiting for her, and she wanted nothing more than to see his face. Her weariness and grogginess had made her stealth and instincts slower and she was less alert, and she didn’t notice the footsteps of another.
Sinking into the shadows and avoiding the bright shine of the moon overhead, she shot through streets of Sorock like the breeze. She was invisible and delicate as she approached his welcoming eyes and kind smile.
He didn’t speak as she ran over and swept into the dark crevasse next to Gogenanth. She sat next to him, with their arms and shoulders touching one another’s. That was all it took for her to become comfortable. Living a life full of beatings, and fighting, her nerves calmed and felt her body relax next to him, and she assumed he felt the same way.
They sat there for an hour, looking out at the stars, and at the bright moon’s light. She listened to the breeze as it drifted through the walls and buildings of Sorock. She hung her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, and he reached over and put his hand on her knee.
She dreamed of being alone with him, out on the sands. With no walls, no doors, and nobody else to tell them how to live their lives. She imagined them laying on their backs under the sky of infinite stars. There was no palace overlooking them from on high. There were no instructors to appease, no other girls to fight— no one. It was just them alone . . . free.
“Can I ask you a question?” she asked softly.
“Yes.”
“Are you afraid?”
He thought for a moment. “Yes.”
“Me too,” she said. “I feel like everyone here is out to get me. To get us. I feel like the commander is up to something, but I don’t know what.”
“Yes, they keep us in the shadows,” he said. “It’s infuriating to me that we’re not allowed to track time here. I was scolded for trying to mark the days long ago. I don’t even know how long I’ve been here— how long we’ve been sneaking away at night to see each other. They’ve even managed to take away time from us.”
“You told me that we were taken by the Scaethers and walked the sands together to get here,” she said. “I only vaguely remember that, but my heart and soul are torn. I don’t know if I’ll ever want to return to the sands, that’s where all of this pain and these tears
were born.”
“The sands didn’t cause your pain. This place did, and the Scaethers did. Out on the sands is no worse than being here, except out there is the only freedom we would ever know,” he said. “It’s truly saddening how this place has become our home.”
“Do you think the Scaethers ever get to be free?” she asked. “Is there a point where they let you go, to live a life?”
“I don’t think so,” he said. “I’d wager death is the only release from that prison. A true torment it is, to come from the brutality of being taken by the Scaethers, to being trained to be one. The Six Gods are truly as cruel as the stories say. The gods command that we’re to be used, and that the greatest honor is death in battle. There’s no other way to leave.”
“They made me fight two of the other girls today.”
“I saw. You did well,” he said.
“What if they make me fight three next time? Or ten?”
“Then you will fight,” he said. “And you will win.”
“I don’t think they’re ever going to stop until I lose, or I’m dead.”
“I won’t let that happen,” he said.
“Thank you, Gogenanth. It's nice to know that someone in here cares,” she said.
“As far as I can tell, you and me. . . We are connected by fate. It's no coincidence that we arrived here together, and are going through this together. Our fates are intertwined.”
“Yes,” she said. “It feels that way, does it not?”
They sat there for another hour, until the first light of dawn was beginning to creep into the night sky.
