by Vi Voxley
The Elders had emerged from their stasis-sleep to teach their young. Most of them resided in the grand temple in the capital of Briolina, their home world, but there were similar temples all around the planet. All connected, forming a single collective will.
The Elders who were committed to teaching emerged more often than the others, since their duties simply called them out more often. As such, they also aged more quickly, since out of the stasis, their bodies resumed their natural decline. The way they seemed unconcerned about that had always perplexed Urenya, but she was told that not fearing death’s approach was natural for an Elder. She too would become one someday.
The Elders teaching them had all been healers in their active life. Now they returned to pass on their knowledge and experience. The group that studied with Urenya was taught by an Elder called Seleya. She honestly didn’t know what to expect, since everyone who had ever been taught by her loved and hated her in equal measure.
One of her aunts was a healer too. When Urenya was preparing to leave, and she heard Seleya’s name, she sighed.
“Always remember you study with the best,” she said. “Resist the temptation to poison her. Trust me, some have tried. She’ll see it coming. Learn from her and don’t let her bait you. Then you’ll be fine. No, better than fine. You’ll be excellent.”
On the first day of many for years to come, the class was greeted by an old woman with her long white hair falling freely to her waist. Her eyes were grey, her body so frail Urenya thought she might collapse at any moment. Yet the look in her eyes was as alive as any she’d ever seen.
“So,” Seleya said, looking straight at her. “Urenya, right? Tell us then. What was it like to lose your gerion?”
That was a short first day, Urenya thought, storming out. At least she didn’t know much about poisons yet. Seleya did, however, and her little run would earn her no points. Urenya watched her food carefully for the next days.
After her fellow soon-to-be healers told her of all the things they’d learned, she gritted her teeth and returned. She half-expected Seleya to repeat her question, but the Elder gave her a passing look, nothing more, and carried on.
Urenya’s wasn’t the only jaw that dropped that day.
Healers were the glue of the Brion world. They fixed bodies, and minds, and souls. Knowing how to stop bleeding was only a part of their job. The others included dealing with problems, worries, simple paranoia, and complete madness. Not in the least, they were also supposed to counsel the bound couples.
The shock was palpable in the room when Seleya said that. What counsel? The theory was that the gerion found the gesha, and everything was perfect from there on out. The only possible counsel-worthy moment was when one of them died, as had happened to Urenya. Then the living one would need a bit of help to carry on when their other half was ripped from them.
“I expected better from you,” Seleya said. “I only see shocked faces. They really do not screen the young healers these days. Come, now. Tell me some instances of less than perfect ways the binding could go.”
Once the shock passed, they started to consider whether the rumors they’d heard might be true after all. One by one, Seleya confirmed them.
People sometimes binding more than once? That one they knew, because it would have been impossible to hide, but yes. Especially those who were very young when they lost their fated. Urenya swore every set of eyes was on her when that was discussed. One of the fated refusing the bond? True. Both of them refusing? Rarer, but true. Broken geshas – women who were convinced of a bond existing when in truth it did not? Sad, but true. The fated living their lives together but never truly liking the other? Yes. Wishing you were bound to someone else? Of course.
A gerion lying about the bond?
Urenya looked around to see who had asked about the fairytale. Seleya’s eyes were fixed on a girl roughly her age sitting a bit to her right. She was honestly relieved, because she’d been about to ask the same and judging from the Elder’s face, it wasn’t a good question.
“True,” Seleya said. “Very, very rare, but it has happened. Which is why the Elders have decided to make everyone believe it’s only a story. People don’t tend to do things they believe are impossible.”
Her eyes were burning when she went on.
“You are called healers, but that is a deceptive term as well. It is not your job, nor your duty to only preserve life, although it makes up the most of it. Should you ever discover such a deception, the punishment is death. The Elders have sanctioned all healers to carry out the execution by any means necessary. You must, of course, be absolutely certain beyond any doubt. We understand it’s nigh impossible to be sure, the best any of us can do is guess not know, but by the end of your studies we trust you to make that call. Of course, should you ever be discovered to have made a mistake, the death will be yours.”
Dead silence rested heavily on the room.
“Do you understand?” Seleya said. When they nodded mutely, she went on.
“Good. Because not all of you will be healers. Don’t get me wrong. You’ll pass your studies, and you’ll get all the credits, and you’ll be a healer in name. But only those I and the other Elders deem fit are true healers. You don’t know this, because you don’t need to know this, but the battle ships and big centrals only take on the healers the Elders recommend. The rest work on simple things, anyone can fix bleeding. We want those of you who can see inside someone without the tools to cut them open. Some of you will get stationed with the generals. Battle ships are bursting with warrior egos, and bloodlust, and trouble. It will be your job to fix those things before any blood gets spilled.”
That was Urenya’s first real lesson with Seleya. After that lecture, she decided she liked the Elder. She was tough, but at least she didn’t treat them like they couldn’t handle the truth.
They learned everything, it seemed to Urenya. The classes had begun with breaking them all down, but it quickly dawned on her it was so they could determine the strongest. After that, she made it her business to take her aunt’s warning truly to heart and never missed a single sentence from Seleya, even when she got mean, nor when she became cruel.
They took Brion physiology apart to its tiniest pieces, sometimes literally. Once they’d done that, they learned to put it back together. Then they learned how to look over someone else’s work and find mistakes they’d made. Even later, bodily modifications. Urenya learned how to build reinforced bones, how to strengthen the skin, and some horrors she couldn’t imagine anyone ever letting be done to them.
“If you’re commanded, you’ll do it,” Seleya said.
So that was it.
Whatever they did, Urenya tried to stand out in the only field she thought truly mattered. On every possible occasion where someone’s mental state counted for something or a counseling question arose, she tried to answer correctly. It was her proudest moment when Seleya smiled at her presentation of a test, which consisted of meeting a person and making a quick judgment on what was wrong with them.
“Nothing,” Urenya said when the Elder held her in the grasp of her piercing eyes. “He’s fine both in mind and spirit.”
“Hmm,” was all Seleya said. “And why do you think I presented you with a healthy exemplar?”
“To see if I’d be so tempted to find flaws that I’d invent them without taking into consideration the most easily forgettable possibility.”
And there was the approving smile she’d been hoping for. Urenya beamed.
“Ah, you truly are a natural,” Seleya said. “One of the best, I’d say. A pity.”
Seconds after being on top of the world, Urenya froze. They were alone, the test an individual evaluation, and someone had just pulled the world from under her feet. If the Elder meant what she thought she did, then… No.
“I’m sorry,” she said, forcing her voice to be calm. “What is a pity?”
“That I can’t recommend you,” Seleya said, her eyes ruthless and unforgiv
ing. “I hear you’re friends with Diego Grothan, our newest general. Nothing would please me more than sending you to him. My warrior brothers tell me he will make all Brions proud. We expect much from him, so he will get the best we have to offer.”
While Urenya searched for words to keep her world from crumbling apart, the Elder went on.
“Or I might. The Triumphant needs ordinary healers too.”
Anger bubbled to surface in Urenya’s heart.
“Why?” she demanded, uncaring of talking to an Elder. “You just said I’m one of the best. What did I do wrong? When did I disappoint you?”
“On the first day,” Seleya said.
“But...” Urenya began.
“You’re a child,” the Elder cut her through. “A rebellious child, which would be fine. We are Brion. We have a temper. But for all your talent, all your skills and knowledge, you’re still unfit. Tell me why, young healer.”
Urenya stood, stunned. Her mind was in shambles, spinning, reeling. She tried desperately to grasp on to something, to think of why she was being scorned.
An image came to her. A smiling, joyful face, bright with life.
“My gerion.”
Seleya looked sympathetic for the first time Urenya could remember.
“I will ask you a question so simple even non-healers know the answer. What would you do if someone lost their fated?”
“Offer to listen,” Urenya said miserably, knowing where it was leading. “Observe if they’re showing signs of losing the will to live. Talk to them. Let them mourn.”
The healer Elder was nodding.
“I was very excited to have you in my class. All I had heard was that you were very smart, kind and lively. I was assured you would excel, and that I should book you a place on the battle ships at once. Then the tragedy happened, and I thought it would take time for you to be happy again, but it would happen eventually. Do you want to explain why you didn’t listen to your parents when they told you a person mourns for the one they were supposed to spend their life with?”
“Brions are strong,” was all Urenya could think of saying, but it sounded weak even to her.
For once, Seleya didn’t mock her.
“Child, running away isn’t a sign of strength.”
“I didn’t run away,” Urenya tried to protect herself. “I wanted to hold my head up high.”
“You literally ran away,” Seleya said. “On your first day.”
“You shouldn’t have asked me that in front of everyone,” Urenya said. “The bindings are private.”
“As if I don’t know that,” the Elder said seriously. “You were supposed to show your grief. If you’d told me any of the things I’m sure you thought at that moment, it would have been a lesson for your companions and a cathartic moment to you. But you ran.”
For a long moment, Urenya was silent. Then she said quietly,
“I… I didn’t even know him.”
“That happens sometimes,” Seleya said. “Did you try to find out what he was like?”
“No. I didn’t think it mattered anymore.”
“Don’t lie to me. You didn’t do it, because it hurt too much to find out something good and promising about someone who was gone.”
Urenya burst out crying, for the first time since she’d been a very young child. Seleya’s arms came around her, which would have been shocking on a whole separate level, but her barriers had finally broken down.
“Better late than never,” Seleya said. “Let this be a final lesson to you. Even the strong mourn. We are the Brions, our bindings are everything. You can’t brush it off like that.”
It seemed like hours had passed when Urenya finally dried her eyes and stood up straight. Something very heavy had lifted, but she was still drifting.
“Will you make me a lower healer?” she asked.
Seleya shook her head.
“No,” the Elder said. “I think you’ve punished yourself enough. And Diego has asked for you personally. But you have to promise me that you will keep in mind that when there is no one else around to diagnose you, you have to be your own healer too.”
“I promise,” Urenya said, relieved beyond words. “I swear.”
“Then I believe you will do great,” Seleya said.
When Urenya was already at the door, the old woman called to her.
“And I believe happiness is coming for you. You never had the binding. I doubt fate had that in mind for you.”
The Triumphant waited for her. While she’d spent her learning years studying all the ways to heal a Brion, Diego had been learning how to take their enemies apart. There wasn’t much theoretical to learn in fighting, but he had had to sit through tactics classes as well. After that, the young warriors were released into battle to learn by doing. Diego had done exceedingly well, so much so the Elders had taken notice.
It was a surprise to no one when he rose through the ranks in the only way the Brions knew. No one was appointed an officer. It would have been unthinkable to simply place someone who was supposed to lead them to possible death in charge of the warriors. No, the Brions earned their positions by blood. All ships housed huge looming arenas where they held their meetings, and where they accepted the challenges.
Diego had gone through them faster than anyone else alive. Amazing tales of his duel with the former general were being told when Urenya was on her way to join her once-friend and now-commander.
“It was over quick,” one of Diego’s warriors escorting her said. “He respected the old general a lot.”
That was it. Diego had had nothing personal against the previous general. He had simply been better and stronger. The place was his by right. Such a life the Brions led. Urenya felt oddly out of place, though she knew many ways to kill someone as well.
She felt like a different person. Or rather, a person returned to herself. Like she’d been in a bad dream and was, after such a long time, awake again. The memories of the bright and sunny day were bitter in her mind, her disappointment in her younger foolish self almost palpable, but such was her past. She could only be redeemed by looking forward. One more task ahead.
The newest general greeted her in person. Urenya couldn’t suppress a small shiver. She’d left behind a young athletically built man bound to be a great warrior. She reported now to a general.
Urenya had been prepared to greet him as Diego, but found the word no longer made sense for her to utter.
“Commander,” she said.
The towering general who had once been a boy she played with nodded, but there was a twinkle in his eyes signaling he was still there.
“It’s Diego to you,” he said. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Urenya nodded, honestly happy herself. There was no other place she’d rather be assigned to. The galaxy was huge, and she wanted to see it.
She waited until they were alone to take her final step in growing up.
When she quietly said, “Tell me about him,” the commander didn’t need to ask who she meant. He talked, and Urenya listened and cried. Then they found the images she’d refused to look at, and Diego’s steady hand was pure steel she could clutch when she tried to convince her mind the unrecognizable form was the same bright face that had waved her goodbye. It had only taken her four years to do that.
Then, for the first time in a while, she turned her eyes to the future.
CHAPTER TWO
Narath
A spear truly wasn’t his weapon, Narath concluded taking a painful blow to his left leg, which made his blood flow for the first time in a while.
It wasn’t that he was unskilled, far from it. Diego Grothan wouldn’t have called him to his ship if he didn’t think he was worthy, even if their friendship was long. Narath knew that for certain. It was one of the reasons he respected his commander so much.
No, it was that his agility was somewhat lacking. The commander had often said that the spear became a truly terrifying weapon in his hands. Depending on his mood, it ei
ther meant Narath could put such power behind its blows that it came on par with the great general himself, or that it was terrifying to look at.
His commander had offered he could switch to another weapon, more suited for him, but Narath had always refused. For one, the irony was that he liked the Brion battle spear, a true masterclass in weaponry in itself. And for another reason, he just didn’t want to differ. They were all Brions, they were one. Others could try to leave their mark by trying out non-standard weapons, but Narath had simply resolved to train harder.
He had succeeded. The spear that wasn’t naturally suited to him came alive with rigorous practice. No one else aboard the gigantic Triumphant with its thousands of warriors trained as hard as he did. And while it could still be the case that quite a few warriors were faster than him, none of them could put it to use. None of them got even close to him. The spear twirled with horrible might in his hands, keeping them all at its length. It didn’t take many blows from him to send them all sinking back.
Well, all of them besides the commander, but that was different. No one truly expected to beat Diego Grothan, just to hold out long enough not to be embarrassed. Many were dying to see him duel other generals to find out for a fact if he truly was the mightiest of them as was said. So far, the commander had mostly refused. In private, he’d trusted to Narath that it wasn’t because he was afraid he’d lose. He didn’t want to humiliate the other generals before their warriors. They’d shared quite a laugh at that.
Other than the glancing blow, Narath was quite pleased. He’d lasted a full minute against the general. They were having a tournament within the ranks, all officers and everyone else who wished to test their skills. The two of them were the last two standing, after a brutal day of fighting for Narath and a mere workout for Diego. The valor squares in his neck were pulsing excitement and challenge. He wanted the commander to take him seriously as an opponent, even if he knew he’d eventually lose. In contrast, Diego’s crystalline squares going from the neckline to the ear – on both sides – shone brightly, showing his mind was on battle, but they didn’t let any particular emotion show. Narath knew how much concentration it took because when the valor squares were implanted they were connected to the warrior’s nervous system and reflected their entire being in a battle.
