by N E Riggs
“I wanted to be a soldier,” David said instantly. Then he closed his mouth and looked down. During his teenage years, he’d dreamed of joining the army – or maybe the navy or the air force, he hadn’t decided. Ever since he was little, he wanted to help people, to be a hero, help people in desperate circumstances around the world. Maybe he’d just spent too much time with comic books and television, but it had been all he’d wanted. He’d thought about being a policeman or fireman perhaps, but the siren song of the army always brought him back around.
He’d gotten into many fights as a child. John had been quite the geek – he still was – and the other kids would pick on him and occasionally try to beat him up. David wouldn’t stand for that. The other children were clearly just stupid if they couldn’t tell how cool John was. So, he protected his best friend throughout their childhood. Eventually, he’d taken to protecting other children who were bullied as well, learned karate until he was the toughest guy at his school. Most of those other kids he never got to know, but that didn’t matter. The bullies stopped picking on them, and David was content.
He liked being strong, and he liked being able to protect those who were weaker than himself. Becoming a soldier seemed like a natural progression.
His parents had been against it. We know you want to help people, David, they’d said, and we’re so proud of you for it. But the army’s a dangerous place. We don’t want you to get killed. He argued with them constantly about it, as only a teenager could. And the last night of his parents’ life, his mother burst into tears with worry for him.
It was a stupid, crazy accident that took them from him, and his last moments with them had been full of shouting.
In the wake of their deaths, he’d replayed that last fight over and over again, remembering his mother’s tears as she begged him not to do something so dangerous. He’d given up his dream, never tried to join the army or even the police or the fire department. That stint he’d had as a security guard when he was twenty was the closest he’d come. And even that he hadn’t been able to manage for long, the constant guilt gnawing away at him.
He scrubbed quickly at his face before looking at Brigid. Her eyes were soft and gentle as she waited for him to compose himself. He managed a weak smile for her and, for the first time since being dragged to Bantong, felt happy.
“I have no training at all,” he said. “I’ve never even used a gun. But I want to fight to help people.” He picked The Traveler’s Guild to Bantong off the bed. “I read about Sword Priests. Rolan and Alosh are Sword Priests, right? And so was Cethon?”
Brigid nodded. “Sword Priest is an honorable profession. Sadly, gateways often open into worlds populated by terrible beasts, beasts that then invade Bantong and threaten the populace. Sometimes those monsters reach another gateway and travel another world, like last night. But David, becoming a Sword Priest is very difficult, and a very serious deal. A person has to pass a rigorous test, then spend three months in training, before becoming a Sword Priest. There are all sorts of vows to take for any of the priest sects. It’s a lifetime profession.” She paused and added, “And most Eternist Priests are Bantong or Bantonan world natives. Very few travelers join our ranks.”
David picked up Bramira. “Last night, I killed two griffins with this, and I didn’t even know what I was doing. Can’t I at least take the test? If I fail, I can try something else.”
“I suppose,” Brigid sighed. She typed a few things into her computer. “There are lots of divisions of Sword Priests – navy and air force and armored and more. Lots of divisions require specialized skills, and familiarity with Bantonan technology. You’ll want to try for the traditional division, the infantry, or the watch.”
He stared at her blankly. He’d seen no mention of divisions in The Guide. Of course, he hadn’t read much of it. “What are the differences?”
“The watch is one of the easier divisions of Sword Priests to join. They keep order here on Bantong – arresting criminals and enforcing laws.”
“Police.” David nodded. “What about the other two?”
“There’s a lot of overlap between the infantry and the traditional. They both fight monsters both here on Bantong and on other worlds. While both divisions use agitators, the infantry uses them more extensively.” At David’s blank look, she said, “Agitators are hand-held firearms. Cardinal Jing had one with her, I’m sure.”
David perked up. “Oh, you mean those cool, sci-fi laser guns. They’re called agitators?” Then he wilted. “I don’t have one of those, so I guess the infantry is no good.”
“If you get accepted into either division, you’ll be provided with an agitator. But for the infantry, you’ll need experience with one to pass the test. The traditional division, as the name suggests, uses traditional weapons, like swords and spears. They specialize in fighting monsters on primitive worlds, using old fashioned weapons so they don’t scare the locals. The Sword Priests you met yesterday – they were traditional. You might have more luck there.” She poked at her computer screen a few times. “The next test for the traditional division will be in ten days. People who train for years don’t always pass, you know.”
“I want to try,” David said. He couldn’t be a soldier back home. But Bantong was supposed to be an amazing place. He’d seen no mention in the book of drawn-out wars against terrorists, like back home. He’d already proved he could fight monsters. His parents wouldn’t have objected to him becoming a Sword Priest.
Or maybe, ten years after their deaths, Bantong had shown him he was finally ready to move on with his life, to try to follow his dream.
Brigid’s screen went blank. She flipped it back to playing card-size and stuffed it in her pocket. “Come, then. I’ll show you a place where you can train before the test.”
He smiled in relief, picked up Bramira from the bedside table, and followed her out. He barely noticed the number of times the elevator went in directions it shouldn’t, though it did mostly just go down. He wondered what sort of pulley system was needed to make the elevator move horizontally, before remembering that this was Bantong; the elevator was probably pulled by giant purple rhinos or something. That would make as much sense as anything else he’d seen. When the doors opened, they were in an even larger room than the wardrobe Brigid had taken him to yesterday.
It was a massive gymnasium, covering three levels. There were running tracks, exercise machines, weights, and swimming pools. The second level held people training to fight. David watched two men wrestling while two others fought with staffs.
“If you need it, the firing range is through there,” Brigid said, pointing to a room on the right side of the second level.
“Is this place used for travelers too?” David asked. “You said most travelers don’t become priests.” One man with shaggy hair was running around with a large club, making grunting noises. The man was also wearing a full tuxedo. David snickered softly.
“Bantong can be a dangerous place,” Brigid said sadly. “Even if they don’t plan to become Sword Priests, travelers still want to be able to protect themselves. And for some people, their home worlds are even more dangerous, and this is the only place they can safely train.” Then she smiled again. “Come on. I’ll show you around, and then you can get started.”
Brigid gave him a whirlwind tour of the gym, ending with a side room with targets placed on the walls. “So you can practice using your chakram,” she told him.
David realized she meant Bramira and almost smacked his forehead. He’d watched how many episodes of Xena, and hadn’t been able to remember that? There was a shelf near the door with other disks – chakrams, he corrected himself. The edges on these were dull and safe for practice. He put Bramira down and picked up one of the practice chakrams. He whirled it around his index finger a few times, getting used to it. He thought it weighed about the same as Bramira.
Finally, he grasped the chakram firmly. He focused on a target on the far wall. He cocked his wrist back and f
orth a few times, mentally practicing his throw. Then he brought his whole arm back and flung out the chakram.
It spun too wide and too high, missing the target by a huge margin. It hit the wall and clattered loudly to the ground. Scowling, David went to pick it up and try again.
“I need to go take care of a few things, fill out some paper work. Will you be okay for a few hours?” Brigid asked.
“Yeah, thanks,” David said, not really listening. Brigid slipped out of the room, leaving David to practice on his own. He aimed the chakram again and threw it a second time. He missed the target again, this time ending up too low. He sighed and went to retrieve it.
When Brigid came back over two hours later, David was covered in sweat and glaring fiercely. He whirled on her, throwing his arms up in the air. “What the fuck is wrong with me? I can’t hit shit!”
“Not even once?” Brigid asked, dismayed.
David sighed and held up two fingers. “That’s how many targets I’ve hit,” he said, shoulders slouched. “I suck so bad it’s almost funny!” He threw the practice chakram on the ground. It bounced a bit before rolling to one side. “I killed two griffins last night,” David said. “And on the same throw! So how come I suck now?”
“Maybe it was beginner’s luck?” Brigid asked. She frowned. “I’m no warrior, but killing two monsters with one throw sounds pretty impressive.”
“I’m horrible at this,” David said. He sank to the ground, staring morosely at the chakram. “I knew I would be. I can’t do anything.” He closed his eyes and thumped his head against his up-raised knees. Now what was he going to do? He’d thought, being trapped in some crazy, magical, sci-fi world, he could try living out his dream. But how could he save people if he couldn’t fight?
Maybe he should try a gun instead. Or one of those cool laser things like Cethon had – an agitator. He might actually be good with one of those. But then, he’d thought he’d be good at this too.
He looked up and over towards the shelf near the door, where he’d left Bramira. He reached over and picked it up carefully, staring at it. “You’re my weapon, Bramira,” he said to it, “but I can’t use you. What’s the good of that?”
“Are you sure?” Brigid asked. There was an odd note in her voice, and David turned to look at her. “Have you tried using that today, or did you just use the practice chakrams?”
“Just the practice ones, of course,” David said. “I could kill myself using this thing.” He waved Bramira, gesturing with his other hand towards the razor sharp outer edge.
“Maybe you should try that. Just once.”
David frowned. “Brigid, this thing is impossible. It goes through everything. And I do mean everything. It isn’t safe.”
“Just... I think you should try it. Trust me.” Brigid pulled him back to his feet then retreated towards the door, out of the way.
David stared at her for a long time then turned towards the target he’d been trying to hit all morning. “Okay,” he sighed. He raised Bramira carefully, holding it more loosely than he’d held the practice chakram. He mimed a few throws, then took a deep breath. “Please, hit it,” he whispered and threw Bramira.
He stared in wonder as Bramira sped directly towards the target. It hit it perfectly in the center with a loud clang. Then it fell to the floor, leaving a large gash in the center of the target.
“I hit it,” David breathed, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Then he cried out, “I hit it!” He thrust his arms in the air, pumping his fists. He whirled around and dashed over to Brigid. He lifted her up and swung her around in the air, shouting, “I fucking hit it!”
Brigid laughed, equally joyful. When David put her down, she gave him a knowing smile. “Now, pick it up and do it again.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, throwing her a playful salute. He ran over and picked up Bramira. He turned to another target, one higher up along the wall. Without first practicing his aim, he threw Bramira. Once more he hit the target, right in the center. And once more, Bramira cut into the wall before falling to the ground.
And David realized what he’d just done.
He slowly walked over and picked up Bramira. He turned to Brigid, biting his lip. “I didn’t even aim that time. How could I hit those two targets, after missing everything?”
Brigid pointed. “You called it Bramira. I guess it really is.”
He hadn’t named it to her before now, he realized. “Cethon gave it to me. She said it was mine. What is Bramira?”
“There are a number of legendary weapons,” Brigid said. “Excabur, Ganta, others. Millennia ago, when the Nephilim attacked, Aeons fashioned many weapons to help us fight alongside him. Bramira was one of them. Most of those legendary weapons are kept somewhere safe, though two were lost.”
David stared down at Bramira, watching it glow merrily. He could believe it was legendary.
Brigid continued, “It is said that Bramira could cut through anything. It’s also said that its wielder could hit anything with it. I guess that’s true.”
“Cethon had it with her, but she said it was mine. Why would a legendary weapon belong to me?”
“I don’t know,” Brigid said softly. “But I think you must surely be destined for great things.”
David stared at Bramira. He should be happy about such a pronouncement. He wanted to do great things, be a mighty hero. Cethon had said such amazing things about him, but he hadn’t really believed any of it. Now that Brigid was saying similar things, he was maybe ready to believe it.
Then he scowled and looked up at Brigid. “If I do great things, I want to do them because of me, not because of some magic weapon I just happened to get.”
“You think it was an accident that Cethon Jing, the former Sword Cardinal, gave you Bramira?” Brigid asked, eyebrows raised.
His grip tightened momentarily around Bramira. “Isn’t it?”
Brigid placed a gentle hand on his arm. “I don’t know how things work in your world, David. You’ve been separate from us for a long time, and you’ve obviously forgotten a great deal. If you’re going to be a Priest, there are things you have to know. The first is this: on Bantong, there are no coincidences. Aeons sits enthroned in Pardis.” She said it like a catechism, something she’d memorized so long ago it had become second nature. “Bramira came to you for a reason. Cethon gave it to you because of who you are, not in spite of who you are. And you will be great. I’m sure of it.”
4
Variations on Humanity
“I’m getting good at this,” David said. He puffed out his chest and put his hands on his hips as he gazed around the practice room. With Bramira, he could hit any of the targets. For the first time, he’d managed to catch Bramira as it spun back towards him. Despite the sharp edges, touching it never hurt him. He turned to Brigid, who was sitting on the bench and watching his practice. “Just watch me! I’m going to become a Sword Priest no problem!”
“You probably need to do more than just use a chakram,” Brigid said thoughtfully.
“Like what?” David asked.
“Well, you’ll need to be in good shape, of course.”
He flexed his arms, shifting his stance. He had a nice physique, if not as buff as he might wish. No matter how poor he’d been, he’d always maintained his gym membership. “I don’t look in shape to you?” he asked, grinning as her eyes traveled slowly over him.
After a long moment, Brigid coughed, flushed, and looked away. “Well, yes, you do seem to be in good shape, but extra practice won’t hurt. You could try running and weight lifting and stuff.”
“Okay,” he said. He was beginning to think Brigid knew very little about what was needed to pass the test to become a Sword Priest. But he didn’t want to say anything, in case he offended her. She was the only person he knew on this crazy world, and she was also his ticket back home. He couldn’t afford to annoy her. So he winked jauntily at her and watched her blush again.
Brigid jumped to her feet. “It’s about l
unch time. How about a break?”
“Sure, if you’re paying,” David said. She laughed and led him out of the training room. David grinned broadly as he followed her. He could have never gotten away with that back home, but Brigid didn’t seem to mind paying for him. Which was good, since he didn’t have any money. Well, he had money, but he didn’t think it would be any good on Bantong.
After a short elevator ride, Brigid brought him back to the floor where his room was. He threw her a confused look, but Brigid just led him into a large room at the end of the hallway. A large, wooden table sat in the center of the room, surrounded by wooden chairs with tall backs. On the far side of the room lay a kitchen.
“Normally I use a cooker,” Brigid nodded at a boxy device that opened and had a large entry pad on the front, “but sometimes it’s nice to make something by hand.”
“A cooker?” David stared at the box.
Brigid laughed and tapped the device with her knuckles. “That’s what it’s called. If you put packets of raw materials in it, it will make a meal. See.” She typed ‘noodles’ into the pad. The device made a soft humming sound for a few seconds then binged. Brigid opened the door and pulled out a steaming plate. Greenish penne covered it.
The color worried him for a moment, but the noodles tasted of spinach. “Cool.” Stepping up to the cooker, he typed in ‘pepperoni pizza.’ Across the top of the pad appeared the words ‘food name not recognized.’ “Damn. That’s typical.”
Brigid waved him to a seat. “Sit down and eat your noodles.” She typed rapidly into the cooker and pulled out items he couldn’t identify. She grabbed a cutting board and knife out of a drawer on the side. “I’m going to make you some flook.”
“Gloop?” David asked. Spinach penne was something he could find at home, and he decided he loved it. “Is this going to be some weird, Bantongian food?”
“I suppose it would be, to you,” Brigid laughed, not looking up. “But it’s delicious. Don’t worry, all five of my travelers have liked it! Two even asked for the recipe! Also, the word’s Bantonan, not Bantongian.”
