Age of Asango - Book II

by Matt Russell

  Kota remembered catching the arrow and then the stone. He gazed at the acorn in Gretis's hand, wondering where this was leading, and to move things along he muttered: "Please explain."

  “Observe,” Gretis said, and she tossed the acorn behind her back, sending it sailing toward a tree no thicker than Kota's forearm. As it flew, Gretis calmly adjusted her grip on her thin knife, and then, just before the acorn hit the trunk, she snapped her wrist behind her backward without looking. A fraction of a second later, the blade struck the acorn dead-center, pinning it to the tree. Gretis winked at Kota and then drew the second, smaller knife from under her right sleeve. Again without looking, she flicked her wrist behind her back. The second dagger whipped in a blur to the outstretched handle of the first where it stuck itself, tip first.

  Kota gaped. Gretis was deadlier than she had ever let on to him. With precision like that, she could kill nearly anyone in the blink of an eye. All he could think to say is: "How did you do that?"

  The woman answered him only with a hint of a smile and then walked over and pulled her knives away from the tree. She tucked the smaller one back into the leather sheath under her sleeve and then returned to Kota and held out the larger blade to him, handle first.

  Taking the knife, Kota said: “What is this for?”

  Gretis hunched down in front of him and fished around on the ground until she found a thin twig. This she brought back up and held out in front of Kota between two fists and said: "Cut this stick in half.”

  "All right," Kota said. He raised the blade and brought it down in a quick slash, but to his shock, the small twig did not split. It stopped the knife as if it were a piece of steel. Confused, he reached out and touched the tiny stick, which Gretis calmly allowed him to do. It was indeed a simple piece of brittle wood. A young child could snap it between his fingers. "Why couldn't I cut it?" he asked.

  "Answer that yourself," she said in a soft voice. She held the twig up closer to him, still clutching it between her two fists. Kota hesitated, then attempted to reach out with his new sense around the wood. His animus responded immediately to his mind and sent tiny pulses of itself out to the tiny target. An image of the thin piece of wood formed in Kota’s mind, but it felt no different from any of the hundreds of others on the ground.

  Confused, he muttered: “I can’t feel—“

  "Focus on your target," Gretis whispered. "Just relax. Take your time."

  Kota had trouble conceptualizing how to ‘focus’ his animus sense. It was unendingly leaping in all directions. Still, his teacher had told him to try, and so he did. He shut his eyes and slowed his breathing. The piece of wood was there before him, as were Gretis's two hands. Kota tried to block everything else out and will his energy to the small point. To his surprise, it subtly began to obey. The sensations from all around faded away and what remained became vastly more detailed. He perceived every tiny groove in the small twig. He felt its brittleness and its dryness. Then, as he probed deeper, he felt a tingling sensation that set his new sense afire. There was an energy inside the sliver of wood, and it was flowing back and forth between Gretis's hands.

  "You feel it, don't you?" she said.

  "Yes," Kota whispered. "Is that your animus?"

  "It is."

  Kota opened his eyes and looked at her. "You can stretch it outside of yourself?"

  "I can do many things with it." She held out her left hand and said: "Give me the knife." He handed her the weapon, and she said: "Observe again with your new sense."

  Kota shut his eyes once more and willed his animus to focus on the blade in Gretis's hand. Within a few seconds, he felt the tingle of her power pulsing within her flesh. The power stretched slowly out around the knife, taking the shape of the blade. Gretis picked up a larger stick from the ground that was roughly the width of her thumb and brought the dagger to it in a slow movement. There was no snap. The knife’s edge slid through the wood like it was nothing but air, and the bottom half dropped in silence away.

  "What you have inside you, Kota, is a kind of magic," she said as she tossed away her newly made stump and slipped her dagger back into her boot. "It is not like the energy sorcerers wield, which is directed by the intellect. Your power is far more primal, and it is alive." She sighed softly and added: "In your case, it is quite tremendous. Already your animus dwarfs my own, but at the moment you can only tap into a fraction of it. Think of our duel yesterday."

  Kota thought upon the swordplay of which the two of them had engaged. His body had moved with a strength and speed that it had never known, but he had failed to land even a glancing blow against Gretis. For his part, she had not touched him with her sword either. Whenever she came close to striking him, his animus had taken control, and he had dodged or parried faster than he could imagine, but it only seemed to work in defense.

  "You have to learn to direct your power and at the same time surrender to it. It is an art that I cannot truly teach you. You must feel it out and develop it for yourself. Until you do, you are far too dangerous to return to society."

  Kota frowned at her. "I thought... after what happened with those people—when I did not hurt them, I mean—that you determined I was not the dangerous creature you had been fearing."

  Gretis met his eyes and said: "There is no rage deep within your spirit. Still, your animus is unbelievably powerful, and at your current level, it can and will respond unpredictably to your emotions. When you and I duel, your spirit refuses to injure my body." She gave him a kind smile and said: "It is held in check by your love for me. But with others..." Gretis grimaced and whispered: "Your animus has no concept of moral complexity. If you were to become angry with someone—even over something small—it might make a split second determination that that person was an enemy. You could rip a man's throat out before you even realized what you were doing."

  Kota remembered his hand snapping up to meet the stone without his having any control over it. He gazed down at that appendage and said: "How do I ensure I will not be a danger to others?”

  "By learning control," she said slowly. "I will help you."

  "How long do you think it will take me?"

  "I don't know. There has not been one like you in thousands of years."

  Kota lifted his head and peered at her, her words triggering a thought in his mind. "Will you tell me the rest of the story about my people?"

  Gretis let out a soft laugh and replied: "As you wish, young warrior." She walked over to the hut they had built and drew out her own meditation blanket, which she brought back and set in front of him. Gretis seated herself upon it and folded her legs, and then said in the rolling voice she used for storytelling: "I believe we left off with the great defender spirits bonding with a tribe of humans in the wilderness, did we not?”

  “Yes,” Kota said.

  She sighed. “That first generation possessed incredible power—power as you now hold. In that age, before humans came to acquire sorcery, there was little that could stand against your ancestors. They were strong enough even to challenge the elves for supremacy in the world. That is not, however, what they chose to do.

  "The mightiest of all the ancient spirits infused its essence into the chief of the ancient tribe, a shamalak whom we know only as Nataka." Kota took in a sharp breath. He knew the name. His father had whispered it to him many times when they had looked up at the stars in the night. Nataka was the grandfather—the oldest and strongest of the spirits that were said to watch over the shamalak people.

  "That figure of legend is said to have lived for several hundred years, and he grew very wise in that time. Nataka saw that the children born to his new race of people inherited all the physical characteristics of their parents, yet they did not inherently know how to channel the power in their spirits—that, in fact, no creature in the world inherently possessed this ability. He also saw that some of his people had begun to want more than to simply live in peace with nature. They fell prey to—" Gretis’s
expression became grim, "human desires, and they possessed the power to take virtually whatever they wanted from the other beings around them. Some of the shamalak even became dominated by dangerous emotions, as my son did. They became a danger, and Nataka decided that the power of the ancient spirits could not be allowed to run rampant. He ordered that none of the young shamalak be trained to harness their spiritual energy." She gave a little shrug. "There are two different versions of what happened next."

  "What are they?" Kota said.

  "In one version, the tribe obeyed Nataka's decree. The generation who wielded the power hunted the new breed of demons that were beginning to appear in the world, but after a time they died away. Before Nataka passed on, he decided that connection to the spirit world was too important to be lost completely to history. He went on a long pilgrimage and found humans who did not possess spirits on par with his own but whom he judged to be wise and trustworthy. He gathered them together and taught them all how to bridge the connection between mind and animus. In the language his tribe spoke—a tongue older even than Dhavic—the spirit was called the Sahansrit. Thus, this first generation he trained took on the title of ‘Sansrit Masters’ to honor him."

  Kota considered this story, and then asked: "What is the second version of what happened?"

  "Virtually the same as the first save that not all the shamalak in Nataka’s tribe chose to obey the command. A few traveled far into the east. It is rumored that they developed their own form of what we think of as Sansrit Mastery."

  "What do you believe?" Kota said.

  "I do not know," Gretis said with a shrug. "If I accept the story of Nataka as true in the first place, then it seems logical that at least one or two of your people would disobey, but then if there were a group of shamalak running around with abilities like my own or greater, I might assume they would have made themselves known to history in some way. Whatever the case, it does not alter the truth of my existence or my connection to my own spirit."

  Kota extended his claws and gazed at them, and he remembered the indentations they had made in the rock the day before. He had pierced solid stone without even realizing it. "I think the point of the story then is that the power of the Sansrit is too dangerous in my people's hands."

  "That is indeed one way to look at it."

  Kota glanced up at her. "What is another?"

  "That your people were wise enough and strong enough to do what was right—that they chose to surrender their power rather than to use it to dominate."

  Kota gave a small laugh. "I suppose I like that one better." He gazed into his teacher’s eyes and said: "All the same, why have you gone against Nataka's ancient decree? Why teach a shamalak the ways of the Sansrit?"

  Gretis's mouth tightened. "I do not think you are quite ready to learn that part yet. For now, you must simply trust me."

  "I do trust you," Kota said, though he was disappointed with her answer.

  "Then let us continue," Gretis said. She walked over to a bag she had resting against a tree and drew out a long strip of cloth. Holding it up, she said: "I think we will begin using this. From now on you will spend half of every day blindfolded, so that you may only be guided by your animus." The woman gave a dark little chuckle and said: "Actually, I have heard of Sansrit followers choosing to permanently blind themselves to become one with their new senses, but I think you and I are not quite so extreme."

  Kota took the blindfold from her and tied it around his head, covering his eyes. He found he could still see light through the fabric, but no more detail than that. "What should I do for this training?"

  "Simple tasks will do for now. You will go and gather firewood for our camp, and then wash our clothes and linens in the river." Kota felt his teacher’s lips curl as she added: "I think you will find the way your new sense reacts to flowing water to be quite... disconcerting at first. We will train a bit this afternoon, and then, if you feel ready, you will go and hunt tonight."

  "Hunt," Kota whispered. The thought of tracking and killing an animal without the use of his eyes seemed an impossible task. How could he aim his bow?

  "Try to relax," Gretis said, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently. "You have gone through a profound awakening that very few ever experience. There are so many things you will discover about the spirits of this world, and about yourself. Be strong. It will take you time to understand it and to adjust, but I will be here with you every step of the way."

  "How will we know when I am ready to return to society?"

  A smirk played across Gretis’s smooth features, and she said: "We will know you have learned control when you can defeat me in single combat."

  Chapter 21:

  The Empire’s New Commander

  Cassian paced slowly over the light grass in front of his assembled troop of men, with Titus prancing in as delicate a gait as a dragon his size could manage behind him. Three hundred and fifty pairs of eyes were focused on the two of them. The soldiers were eager to know why they had been summoned, though many already had a fair idea and were bursting with excitement.

  "Good afternoon," Cassian said, projecting his voice to every corner of the assemblage. "I sense your general did not share the purpose of this assembly. The reason is quite simple and yet immensely consequential to the rest of your lives: You are all now mine."

  Cassian gazed around. There were thrills , confusion, and apprehension leaking out of the minds around him, and yet every soldier was perfectly upright and at attention. The shadows of Romulus's harsh disciplinary policies would linger for some time to come. That might prove an advantage.

  "I have chosen each of you individually to become members of my personal guard. This is not because you are especially talented in combat. I picked you because, of all the soldiers in this camp, I believe you are most capable of adhering to the moral standards to which I intend to hold my soldiers. I am not Romulus. My men will not steal from cowering peasants nor commit rape. You are to be the first of a new kind of army—one that can be trusted and respected for more than the number of men you have killed. Together, we will be better than that.

  "You need not concern yourselves with the prowess you have demonstrated on the battlefield until now. I will make you into the finest fighting force that has ever existed. I have many new combat formations and tactics that I have developed with my mentor, the great General Somar Dojinko. We will drill together for six hours a day, every day, until I am satisfied that you have mastered them to perfection." Cassian sensed dismay at this decree, but he knew he would soon turn his soldiers' feelings entirely around.

  "It is important to understand going in that I expect perfect discipline. You will hold exactly to the formations I set you in under all circumstances. I will shape you into precise tools that I may conduct telepathically while I fly above on my dragon, and you will learn to respond instantly to my projected thoughts." Cassian spoke to them all through his mind:

  He returned to verbal communication: "As I shape your skills, I will also bestow each of you with mystical gifts. Over the years, I have worked closely with the Onkai order, and I took time to study the magical runes they utilize. Many of you are probably aware that Dracus Mobius, the infamous Starborn and first bishop of the Onkai, declared the system of tattoos he invented to be holy, and that using them to empower a state army would henceforth be considered heresy. I have developed my own system that does not belong to the church, but which will bestow nearly exactly the same effects. Over the next several months I will imbue every fighting man in my personal guard with this power."

  There were enormous waves of exhilaration. Cassian let his new soldiers' imaginations run for a moment with the knowledge that they would become as powerful as the legendary Onkai, and then he explained the great drawback: "This power shall come at a cost. As I said, I have very high moral standards. The markings will contain a spell woven
into them that I may activate at any time from nearly anywhere in this world. With a thought, I will be able to cause you immense suffering, or even bring about your deaths. Let me be quite clear in stating that abuse of your new strength will be met with immediate and terrible consequence. This will be our contract. I will tolerate neither dissent nor desertion. You will obey my commands and live up to my ideals absolutely."

  He paused again, letting the men weigh what he had just said. When he judged the time was right, he went on: "I give all this to you as a choice. I selected more men than I need on purpose. If any of you do not wish to be part of my personal guard, you may return to Romulus's service without consequence from me. Know that if you stay, you are almost certainly committing yourself for life. I will be the next emperor of Denigoth." Cassian spoke the words with confidence, knowing the effect they would have. "You will come with me through everything I face. This force shall be a relatively small contingent in the scope of the Denigoth military, but you will be more effective than an army many times your size. We will have a systematic hierarchy of command that can easily incorporate troops and even legions from other Generals when we need them, but you will be my most elegant and exact unit. Moreover, you will be my officers in reshaping this empire."

  Cassian could feel the near hysterical excitement in his men now. He stared at the faces in front, watching as Somar had taught him to watch, as well as using the full telepathic gifts of his Starborn mind. He felt far more optimism than doubt. Every sense told him that three hundred and fifty men had already made the decision to follow his command. Cassian had known they would. He had sought very specific qualities in picking them all out. After a moment of silence, he breathed in deeply, then said: "I say this to you all: if you would go, go now, for it is the only chance I will give you."