The End of Grieving Page 6

ground, signs of fear welling at the corners of their thoughts.

  "Get. Out. Now."

  Your voice mimics the tones of the Seeker earlier that day sending the three insubordinates into a hysterical frenzy as they break into a run for the nearest doors. You move to Vlerik and pinch the base of his neck. He falls to the ground like the others before you address the recruits.

  "One, three four and six from row two, Please step forward." Suddenly the room goes chill as the new recruits realize what happened. Those who laughed with Vlerik were being ejected from the military on the basis of insubordination. Several faces on the back row paled as Vlerik's had done just a few minutes ago.

  You dismiss those from the second line who leave without reproach. One and four however retained an air of disappointment. You call out to them, "One and four, come back." They cringe before returning to line.

  You look into the eyes of each member of the third line before speaking, "Any of you who think I wouldn't hesitate to make an example out of your behavior would best leave now." Nine of the ten leave the room. A single nervous boy stands remains standing, the last in his line.

  "Reform the ranks into lines of five." The recruits move into position. Only fifteen are left, half on the original number. But something is different now, the boys and girls feel connected by something that they can't explain, as if the sheer randomness of the test alongside the overbearing consequences were beginning to hold them together. The simple fact that they stood resolute at that crucial moment defined them as brothers and sisters under the banner of the most high.

  You speak to them, "Some of you may be wondering what just happened. But I believe in time you will come to understand the importance of strong relationships within your military encampment. Without respect one can never learn to appreciate and follow a commanding officer with exactness and willingness. As you saw just a few moments ago, people like them take pleasure in degrading others. There is no honor in them, there is only self-satisfaction. If you are to serve in the military of the most high you cannot see yourself as the highest of all. You two," He pointed to the two he'd almost sent away, "You both will represent reform for your group of recruits. You will be leaders in example and practice. If anyone needs help learning anything or has a desire to practice the drills I am to teach you, you two will organize and assist as long as necessary. This will be both a punishment and a reward for I see more than a pair of snickering children in you. Do you all understand what this means?" Many nod their heads in agreement while others shout out the appropriate responses. You nod your head back in confirmation and spend the next few minutes dividing the group up into front guards, strategists, and bowmen.

  The rest of the day is spent explaining the importance and responsibilities of each position in an individual squad.

  The next morning you wake to drills and practice sessions with the Seeker as you prepare for the raid on the outer city. You show the raiding party the basis of the outline you and Felicia put together in the Seeker's study, pointing out direction, attack strategy, and fighting strategies used by the city eastward. You practice stance and swordplay. You provide defense strategies for the attack, pointing out several positions of defense in the houses and fields themselves. You end with a reminder that silence is key in their success, no one can say a word to anyone that has connections to the outlying areas. The soldiers confirm their reliability, placing a fist over their heart and shouting as one, "Peace be unto the most high!"

  You dismiss them before returning to the Seeker's chambers.

  The Seeker had retired to his study early that morning as his duty was simply to oversee the completion of the raiding mission. You knock on the Seeker's door. A moment passes before a loud thunk resounds on the opposite side of the door. The tip of a metal throwing knife juts from the door inches away from your face. You fall back into a defensive position, pulling your sword from your back before breaking into the room. A second blade cuts through the air, forcing you to deflect it’s with the flat of your blade. Blood covers the ground around you but you have no time to think as a smiling man looks to you before throwing himself from the window. You rush over just in time to see him drop from the end of a rope. He heads deep into the streets between the towering city scape. You realize there won't be enough time to call an alarm. With a deft move you jump out onto the rope the man had left behind, hoping to catch him before he makes it out of sight. You land hard, letting go early to help speed yourself along.

  He sees you behind, forcing himself to run faster, the smile on his face twisted by the effort of his run. You can tell he's been training for this, the way his body moves with a practiced ease foretells the dangers of direct opposition, the direction he takes on the roads and alleyways; his exhaustive study of the city layout. You follow him at an easy pace, keeping him in sight, verifying his direction. You tell yourself that a man like this would have to train constantly to achieve this level of confidence, but you have the years it takes to ingrain principles of discipline that the man seems to be lacking. The chase goes on, the intruder's breath coming in ragged gasps as your gait retains its steady strength. Your muscles have been toned from years of training, providing them with the necessary endurance to fight wars and spar without pain for hours on end.

  Over time, you catch up with the intruder, grabbing him by the back of the neck. You pull him up short quickly locking a strong hold onto his arms and legs, straddling him to the ground below you. You explain the rights of the accused while finishing off a few impromptu restraints.

  You begin to pull him back to his feet, keeping a tight grip, when it hits you. The man hasn't said a single word since being caught, in fact his smile is spreading even now. You look up a sudden horrible realization hitting you like a kick in the chest.

  This man was letting you catch him. The man flips himself over and forces you underneath. You fight back of course, pushing him off. Both of you come up panting. The smiling man wipes blood from the corner of his mouth, his other arm slowly moving behind him.

  You pull a short knife from your pocket, ready to fight.

  He lunges at you, pulling a long folding blade from his pocket, you parry quickly, dodging to the side to avoid the blade.

  He smiles again, nodding to the alleyway behind him. Many people have already gathered in silent expectation, you guess he wants this to be a clean fight. You oblige, willing to face him on his own terms.

  Fights like this weren't too common on the streets of the city but those that do usually end up with too much attention, hurting bystanders and allowing unwanted interference so it is common to find shelter in the alleys to fight for one’s pride and honor.

  You move into the alley, eyeing the length of your knife. You'd dropped your sword somewhere behind and your options at the moment weren't very good.

  The smiling man turned to face you, his short sword at the ready. At that moment you realize something important, the man had declared the location under which you would fight, therefor you had the right to declare the conditions.

  You lower your dagger, "If this is to be a fair fight, I would propose the use of our own."

  The man looks irked, "If it so be that your honor would take you beyond the use of your only weapon then by all means, carry on." He throws his sword onto the ground in front of you as you do likewise. Both take the others knives and place them some distance from the chosen location.

  The man is smiling again. This was going to be a wrestling match. You are going to win of course, but only under fair circumstances. As honor dictates you have the right to level the playing field in your own way but from prior experience, such things simply allow for more creative ways to kill the other such as poisoned fingernails, hidden blades, and any manner of unpredictable retaliations. As many have said, a level playing field is simply an excuse to cheat the other to death, making training impossible.

  You begin to circle each other reassessing the other’s strengths and weaknesses. It is hard to tell
, but your movements are triggering all sorts of surprising responses from the grinning man. You stutter your pace. His smile fades.

  And within thirty seconds the alley fight is over.

  I looked over my small collection of hidden things. It wasn't good that I had come here, in fact it wasn't even close to good. The light of my candle sent light looping through the shadows letting anyone within fifty feet know the location of my secret cave. Something crowed far in the distance.

  I stopped suddenly, my ears twitching towards a suspicious shadow. A false alarm of course. My anxiety had taken a turn for the worst making me skittish like a scared rabbit.

  I turned back to what I was doing, laying three stones of different sizes in a row before me.

  They were ordinary stones by any means, but I had half a mind to make them into transporter crystals and throw them into the world below. I sat back on my haunches and waited for a few minutes, sizing up the extent of my situation. I sighed, nothing else to it really, and so I trudged ahead, placing the smaller stones on top of the bigger one and clapped my hands.

  The result wasn't particularly fascinating for me, I'd just attempted to transmute the stones into living flesh, but instead of