Chapter Three

Book One

Iy Jyacoren

Chapter Three

Mikaila Straatsma

 

 

 

 

The bow had been crafted out of a Wavering Wood; a classification given to a type of oak tree native to the vast expanse of forest lining Ougt’s northern mountain crown. Before it had fallen into the hands of the Childs, a talented Fletcher successfully melted aluminum into the pores of the oak wood. It gave off a glassy shine whilst simultaneously strengthening the bow and making it limber. Metal mixed into wood was a signature of a Dona archer. The fact it now rested in the hands of a Matcha was a signature of its theft.

            

The weapon groaned as a graceful dark hand drew its string taunt.

           

“Mur Sikhat[1].” Gesabelle muttered the name she’d given her bow and closed her left eye to focus effectively.

            

“Mind the wind.” Her brother watched her steady gaze critically. “Pull left a smidge.”

            

“I know!” She barked as much as she could under her breath.

            

“Why are you speaking so loudly?” He hissed in a whisper lower than hers and gave his sister a dissatisfied look. “It will hear you.”

            

She scoffed and stiffened her right hand’s second and third digits under the string. The excitement of the hunt and the tension of her aim culminated into one anxiety filled second of uncertainty. It almost paralleled a sexual endeavour in that its climax could be as relieving or, in the Childs’ case, if not more so.

            

Release. Her arrow split the air. There was a horrifying scream followed by wails and fleeting feet.

            

“Aha!” Gesabelle yelped and slipped her bow over the quiver atop her back. “I hit it!” She hopped up from her keeling position to sprint in pursuit of her wounded prey. Her eyes were wide scanning for bits of boulders or broken bottles which may be littered around the outer ruins of the province. The outer ring was home to the exiled and the outcasts who decided to stay close to home after they'd been cast out due to their defectiveness. Their population consisted of the disabled, the stupid, and unsound of mind lurking in feral conditions near the Gateway passage into the walls which lined Da'ir.   

            

Samuel stole along after his sister. He was growing tired her sadistic enthusiasm. After all, it was growing late in the eighth hour[2] and he hadn't eaten since morning. His stomach muttered at him while he silently jogged a good amount of paces behind his companion. Gesabelle often found herself possessed by an inclination toward Odnaba[3] in his scolded childish form obsessed with vengeance and unnecessary suffering. As a child, Gesabelle had devoted much of her young life to studying Odnaba and, in secret, reading censored books about his child form, Barvat[3], who she whispered about in her sleep. Samuel had been awoken many times to his sister whispering about the birth of the Croean out of Odnaba from vomit after he'd ingested a sickly goat. It kept him up into the deep hours of the night and made him sweat profusely.  

            

Overall, books concerning croea ata voir nayg[4] had been banned from the eyes of all classes. Only the most skilled in self-control were permitted to read them in order to gain knowledge about the human drives opposed in Da'ir. Even a good portion of books on the Ajahn[5] had been censored by the province's founder, Sparrow Dane, as they placed too much emphasis on the achievement of man through Divine Intervention rather than on the glory of man themselves.

            

Samuel was born to a wealthy Matcha family of the third class but had shown immense aptitude for combat. His display of excellence allowed the Soír to promote his class as Sparrow had found it impractical to hold back an individual if they demonstrated worth in another field they had not been born into. Gesabelle was extremely envious of her brother's successes. As Matcha, families were permitted and often held very tightly knit together. She knew if her brother passed his tests for infantry, he'd be whisked away and possibly never seen again. Her soft feet padded along the dusty and ragged ground.

            

She eyed her kill floundering about attempting to hide in the rubble of an old shattered grave house. How appropriate. She thought. Gesabelle loved her brother very much. In fact, she loved him too much to let some war pig take him away from her so easily. She'd either find a way to become a Soldier herself or prevent his advancement in the army but, either way, her brother would not be lost to her.

            

Into Samuel's ears came horrid gurgles and screaming. His sister had found her prey. He followed the sounds until ducking his head under a fallen wood beam in the doorway to an old mausoleum. It was obviously designed for the dead as symbols of locusts were detailed into the stone. They were faded from years of neglect. He stepped further into the tomb and peered into the darkness.  Gesabelle straddled a man from behind who looked to have an under-formed upper extremity. His face was pressed into the mud to muffle him and her arrow stuck crudely out of his left thigh. He yelped in animal sounds, as no one bothered to teach the Dun language, and wept as Gesabelle stabbed her thin knife into his jugular again. "He won't f*****g die." She growled in frustration.  The man howled while she jabbed the iron needle into his neck again. Blood spurted about wildly access the ground.

            

"That's foolish. You have to cut it." Samuel ducked under the beam and strode toward her. He grasped the man's hair into a fist and slipped his own blade into his hands. It was a short serrated scythe made of steel. He placed the tip into one of the puncture wounds his sister made.       

            

With a hard slice, he raked the knife through the man's flesh. Blood ran out in a river now. The man reflexively tried to push his head to his chest and quell the bleeding but Samuel held his hair tightly and kept his neck separated from his chin and the wound wide open. The man sputtered as life was escaping him. "There." He said without inflection.  

            

"If you had shown me how, I would have done it!"

            

"It should be an instinct. That's criteria for infantry."

            

She yanked the man's hair from Samuel's hand and held it herself. She pulled the locks as taunt as possible and ripped some follicles from his head. The man sputtered out one last breath and died underneath her body. Though she was small, the man below her only possessed one working arm and, atop that, he was extremely frail and sickly. He hadn't been that difficult to subdue with an arrow in his leg and a young child could have probably done the job.

            

Gesabelle reached into her tied orange robes and removed a crude pliers from her pockets. "Next time," She began as she used two fingers to prop open the man's bleeding mouth. She placed the pliers around his canine tooth and secured her hold.  "I take the teeth before they die." She braced her slender arm and struggled to pull. At a height of five feet and four inches along with a weight just above a hundred pounds, Gesabelle was no formidable opponent on her own. It was her capacity to charm others and glean followers which kept her tyranny alive. She struggled with the tooth but tisked her brother away when he reached his hand out to assist her. "It's fine. One more pull." She strained and then there was a crack and a pop as the canine tore out of the man's mouth. She reeled back from the recoil and almost teetered backward. Samuel glared at his sister's brashness.

            

"You've dented it again."

            

"It doesn't matter. It looks fine when it's dented." She reached into her robes again and pulled out a dainty screw which could not have been more than a millimeter in width. She pressed it to the middle of the tooth and began to twist it into the enamel. Her nimble fingers easily manipulated the tool and after some rotations it broke through to the other side. With the screw still inside the tooth, she wiggled it just fervently enough to enlarge the hole. Gesabelle slid the screw out and placed it along with her bloodied pliers back into her pockets. "Untie this for me?"

            

Samuel sighed and walked behind his sister. He carefully undid the knot of twine around her neck. She plucked the two ends of string from his hands and extended her arms upward so the necklace would not fall and lose its contents. Upon her necklace were five canine teeth from an assortment of Dun which she had collected. She licked the end of the twine died crimson from the blood of those fallen from her bow and skillfully threaded it through the sixth tooth.

            

"How many do you intend to adorn your neck?"

            

"As many as I see fit. One often changes their mind, so what's the merit in future conjecture?"

            

He sighed. They may have been speaking about the tooth before, but her statement recalled many harsh words they had exchanged and it irked him. "There is a lot of merit to prediction. We predict rain, the sun, the harvest-"

            

"Can we predict a massive stone tumbling off the mountain side and crushing us all?"

            

"Well, we probably would if it looked unstable."

            

She tied the string back around her neck carefully, stood up from the corpse, and then placed a fist under her chin. She flicked her fist forward; a gesture of profanity and slander. "You know what I mean."  

            

Samuel sighed once more. "Come on. Let's go. It's almost the ninth hour." He ignored her rudeness and turned calmly to leave the tomb that the Gesabelle had made a man's final resting place once more.

            

She bound some lose strands of cloth hanging outside her attire together and arose with the teeth dangling around her neck. She pushed past her brother and into the ruins of the street they had ran down. The flash of orange, yellow, and red robes paired with the warm light of sunset and the colour of sand created a scheme of colour reminiscent of flame. She raised her brown eyes to the sky and inhaled deeply.

            

"It will take a while for the blood to be removed from your clothes." Her brother eyed the mess she made of the expensive fabrics.

            

"I prefer my clothes to have some character; or have you forgotten that?"

            

With Samuel preoccupied with his physical regimen at the gymnasium and outside the walls of the city, the pair had not been together much for two months. His life in the Hult made him gloss over the family back at home. Samuel had never been to particularly fond of his family to begin with so the separation was welcomed. They were possessive and greedy people who would do anything to get their hands on a coin. Gesabelle's psychotic ramblings at night and her hunting by day did not please him either. He felt it wrong to kill the Dun despite their uselessness and tried his best to cut deep enough to free that man of the misery under his sister. Samuel thought it would be more humane just to execute the disabled as babies rather than let them linger to die from exposure or predators.

           

"I haven't forgotten that. I only said it because that silk is difficult to come by in Da'ir. It's a far journey eastward to Solvak[6] and many do not make it at all."

            

They approached the massive gate entering the province. It would be a good while before they reached their home from the outskirts and they probably would not get back until well into the dark. The wall ran the thirty kilometers between the two ends of the Da'ir mountain range surrounding the province. It was made of the rock dug out of the mountain range and soil blasted out from creating the tunnels under the capital city. The wall and the gate stood at a height of four stories. The width of the wall was twenty feet with three levels upward where Soldiers could patrol or fire canons and arrows out of.

            

"Oi!" Samuel hollered up to the men atop the gate. He brought his right hand to his left shoulder and then down to his right thigh. A guard nodded at him.

            

The two chains that lifted the gate both ran through five pulleys and could be lifted by four men. The gate was made out of thick iron and weighed about a ton. The chains strained and clanked with the weight of the gate. The iron doors separated to either side and brought up dirt and earth with them as they moved. Everything creaked and squealed from the tension.   

            

Gesabelle dashed through the gate when it had opened just enough for her to squeeze through. She was not the patient sibling. Samuel waited until the men had finished opening it almost entirely. He enjoyed watching such a massive weight be lifted into the air by only a few men. 

            

"Go on through!" One of them strained his head over the wall and yelled at Samuel. He reached into his pockets and took out a gold coin. Samuel placed the coin between his thumb and forefinger and flicked it up at the man.

            

"Gouya Sal[7]." He walked softly through the gate and paced slowly after his sister who had run many meters ahead. "Hey!" He raised his voice at her. "Come here."

            

She stopped and turned to raise an eyebrow at him. "For?"

            

"Just wait for me. I don't want to feel like a duckling."

            

She smiled and forgot about her anger toward him from earlier.

            

Samuel preferred to take his time with walking. He liked to look at the scenery and the people who passed him by. People were extremely interesting to the young man. Their faces were all so distinguishable and their bodies all different. He liked to watch the medical personnel in the infirmary work on wounded in the halls when the operation rooms were all full. Everyone could be so unique yet look so similar on the inside. It was only the skin, voice, and eyes which made them all separate from each other but one's interior was unrecognizable.

"I'm starved. We should get something to eat." It was an hour after midday and his stomach had begun to groan. He pointed at a tavern that sold cooked poultry and fish.      

        "You know I don't eat meat." She snapped.

           

"Are you hungry?"

            

"Not really."

            

"Okay, then there's no problem."

            

She stuck her tongue out at him and grabbed his hand. "How long is it until your final exam?"

            

He shook himself free from her hold and increased his pace toward the tavern. He had begun to feel irritated at the void in his belly and his stomach snarled at him with aching. "Very soon."

            

She matched his stride and looked at him with anticipation. "What is the nature of it?"

            

"We're paired up and we have to finish the other off to advance to the next year."

            

Entertaining. She thought. "How do you feel about it?"

            

"Good." Indeed, Samuel's confidence in his abilities would eventually prove to be correct however the events would unfold unlike his imagining.

            

The two entered the establishment with Samuel's belly rumbling.

            

"You!" It was bellowed out loudly at the two youths. "You weren't at my gym this morning. Why?"

            

It was Harrgber. Luck is fascinating. What is he doing at the Gate? The Capital is almost a three hour ride[8] from here. Samuel thought. He brought his fist to his chest and slanted his eyes. "I heard you weren't going to be able to attend today. I didn’t want to waste my time to the lectures of Errys and his hesitations; I preference learning from yourself."

            

It was true. The meeting with Javid had gone underway and the plans were set to smuggle his men out of the gate tomorrow evening with the student learning experience would be used as cover for the covert espionage. "Flattery won't grant you success here." Harrgber stuffed some bread into his bearded mouth. "Sit down." He ordered between chews.

            

Samuel cast a glance over to his sister and she stared back at him with a smirk. "Go." He said and Gesabelle tussled her hair and pranced off toward other patrons.

            

Samuel cautiously came forward and pulled out a chair by his Captain.

            

"Look, I apologize for my absence."

            

Harrgber eyed him suspiciously as the young man took a seat. "Give me a glass of ale!" He hollered. An older fellow wandered to the shelf behind the bar and began to pour. Harrgber motioned at Samuel and the tender held out the drink.

            

"No thank you." Samuel waved his hand. "Forgive me, but I don't drink alcohol. I will indulge myself with water, however."

The tender blinked with the drink in hand and Harrgber grunted. "Ai, I'll guess I will compensate for the both of us." He took the alcohol out of the tender's hand and placed it beside his other half drunken glass. He began to dig into the seared pig ribs on his plate. Samuel watched him in mild bewilderment.

            

"Did you-"

            

"Hmfg." He raised a finger to shush the other while he scarfed down some food.

The tender placed a lukewarm stone glass of water in front of Samuel and the boy drank half with a swig.

"Are you hungry?" Harrgber said in between bites.

Samuel pondered. "I suppose I could eat."

            

"Your sister too?"

            

He glanced over to Gesabelle laughing loudly with a group of men. She popped chickpeas into her mouth then took a swig of a stranger's wine.

            

"I think she can find her own." He turned back to his teacher. "What do you want to speak to me about? Am I to be penalized for truancy?"

            

Harrgber shook his head. "I expect you not to do it again." He beckoned the tender again and motioned to his plate. "I will take another one of these; for the boy". They nodded and headed toward the flame-heated slab of stone nestled in the far corner behind the bar.

            

Harrgber turned to look Samuel up and down. "How would you feel about going beyond the gate?"

            

The younger man poked at his glass. His nerves had shot up at the idea of formally leaving the city. "I'd be honoured, obviously." He attempted to hide his anticipation by slowing down his rate of speech. "Why me?"

            

"I want to bring my best."

            

Samuel almost smiled and his plate of hot food was placed in front of him. "Best…?"

            

"Students. Contenders for Infantry". Harrgber threw the bones of his meal onto his plate with disregard. He was extremely tired and moderately drunk. "Yes. You would be going along with seven others."

            

"Who?" Samuel asked as he ate.

            

"Dera…" A brute and a b***h… thought Samuel, but reliably so… "Matthew, Lox…" Both formidable… "…Canaan…" Very good. Samuel subtly smiled at the thought of his friend accompanying him beyond the gate. "…Garien…" I don't know him... "…Shamus, and Jyacoren".

            

Samuel blinked at the last name. One of these is not like the others…

            

"Forgive me, but…" He stared into his dish. "Jyacoren?"

            

Harrgber gave Samuel a good look. "I know."

            

"Isn't that… dangerous? She's so…"

            

"Not entirely dangerous, I would say." Harrgber cut him off. "Anyway, I've made my decisions and I don't think I need to explain myself to the likes of a truant." Samuel winced. He reminded himself to scold his sister for dragging him away from his studies this morning.

            

"When do we go?"

            

"Tomorrow evening."

            

"I'll be there."

            

"Good."

~

"Get up." A stern voice said and a boot nudged her face. "Get up!"

            

Jyacoren mumbled and opened her mouth to yawn but the taste of grass and dirt filled her senses. She spat and coughed on the interrupted gulp of air.

"Get up now!" The large voice demanded for the third time. He poked her face with his foot again.

            

"Ah. Okay. Calm down." She droned the words and pushed her torso up with her palms. She looked around her and blinked at the irritating sunlight. Jyacoren's eyes were constantly sensitive and acclimated badly to the year-round sunlit province. The weather of Da'ir resembled that of the Mediterranean climate of Italy and Spain. It rarely rained and water was harvested from the condensation of frost lining the high peaks of the Da'ir mountain range. The water was collected in large aluminum silos and ran down an expanse of ducts until it poured to the underground reservoir beneath Ougt.

            

She glared at the light and sat unsteadily onto the dusty golden grass. There were small patches of flowers and greenery but they were rare in the peak months of the heat. The girl looked up at the man towering above her.

            

"You're not supposed to be h-" He began.

            

"Sorry. Could you just..." She waved her hand in a gesture indicating she wanted him to move slightly to left. He frowned and took two steps in that direction which placed the girl in his shadow. She could see his face now that the sun was not barraging her vision with painful sensations. Her head throbbed a little less. He looked like a middle aged fellow with red hair and beady eyes. He was a Matcha for sure and would had been doing rounds. 

            

"Where am I?"

            

"It's well after midday. You're in District III within a Soír compound." 

            

Oh, I did manage to find Ayura Mona. Maybe I should blackout more often when I'm lost. "I see. I'll be on my way then. I don't want trouble." She was extremely hungover and her words were still blending together.

            

The Matcha pulled a strap hanging off his shoulder over his head and removed a gourd from the cord. He uncorked it, stooped down, and handed it to her gently.

            

"Wine?" She questioned with sarcasm.

            

"No." He said sternly. "It's water. Drink it."

            

"Ah." Water was welcome for her throat had become very dry sleeping in the dirt. She threw her head back and took three deep chugs from the gourd until it was almost finished entirely. She made a deep exhale after drinking and grunted. "You always appreciate the little things when you go without them for too long."

            

He extended his arm and she placed her hand in his. With a hefty tug he pulled Jyacoren to her feet. She wobbled disgracefully while getting her footing correct with the spinning in her head.

            

"How do you feel?"

            

"Poorly… My head is on fire." Indeed. Lying in the sun during midday caused her pale skin to become red and bright.

            

"You need to cool off."

            

Her hand was still grasped by his and the large man tugged her toward the right down a path resembling disorganized cobblestone. Rocks were of all different sizes and stuck out occasionally. It was quite easy to trip.

            

"I, um." She tried to wiggle her thin wrist free but he grabbed onto her with ferocity.

            

The way Ayura Mona was built resembled the capital city itself on a smaller scale. There was a gated entrance where libraries, food, amenities, and sitting areas were found. The park was quite beautiful and taken care of well. It was one of the few parks in the hot climate which had copious greenery. Past the second gate was the compound quarters itself where the Soír slept and held their classes. Jyacoren had been lying in the grass of the initial gated area. As they walked, she was rather perplexed as to how she had snuck in undetected and slept so long without interruption.

            

There was a large communal bathhouse built from limestone on the right side of the compound and she inferred that this would be their destination.

            

"We'll find more water in here." His voice sounded disinterested. She wondered if this was due to routinely removing drunkards or if his personality was generally dull.

            

"I'm sure… I'm fine." She lulled.

            

"Please give me your name and class please." He said as he nearly had to pull her through the doors as she tried to slip away again.

            

"Marina." She muttered. Jyacoren would often use that name when she came into odds with the Matcha city guard. "Soír."

            

He stopped and looked down at her with an unimpressed expression.

            

"You have your papers?"

            

She pretended to rustle about her clothing as if she were looking for something. "Uh… I must have lost them along the way."

            

"Are you lying to me?"

            

"What?" She feigned surprise and indignation. "Certainly not."

            

"Hm." They kept walking through the white columns of the bathhouse.

            

The bathhouse had a layout which opened with a stubby hall. The hall was lined with green and gold tapestries depicting horses and men slaying snakes with emerald eyes. As one kept heading through, a dividing wall six feet in width stood in the path. To the left of the wall was a pool of warm water and to the right was a colder temperature. Both pools shone a glistening blue and cloud of voices arose from the water.

            

They had taken the right path and the Matcha sat her down by a fountain of running water. It spilled down the sides of a granite wall and into the large pool of cool water. Naked men and women sauntered about the bath. She admired some of the more pretty ones quietly while the pair waited. She presumed the man wanted to verify her identity.

            

Perhaps if I claim I have to urinate I can leave here through a window of some sort. She shook her head. As if they won't recognize me later? I've made a big blunder here. Better to be caught robbing a madman then pester the Soír!

            

"Eh!" A laboured voice yelled.

            

She looked up from agonizing over her next move.

            

"Jya! What are you doing here?"

            

Mart bumbled out of the pool behind the bench she sat on. He grabbed a piece of cloth aside the steps leading into the water to dry off then hastily threw on his tunic he'd left lying by the edge of the water. He hadn't been quick enough however and, even as hungover as she was, it had been easy to see his nakedness. She'd never ventured into the Soír baths before and hadn't seen her friend in such a state.

            

He rushed up to the two and smiled. Her face broke into a grin as well and she cackled at him.

            

"What?"

            

"Nice." She gestured her chin at his groin.

            

He turned beet red and stammered. "That water is cold! Freezing actually! You're one to talk. You look like you've been kicked by a horse!"

            

She'd almost forgotten about the injuries she'd sustained the night before. Well that's why this headache is so horrid. Her memory meandered along her small adventure around the city and then the story stopped when she remembered the wall. The image of the pearl flashed in her mind and she frantically grabbed the right pocket of her tunic with her free hand. Her fingers felt the small cylindrical object. Good.

            

"Sorry. That was rude of me. Look, I need a vouch. This guard does not believe I am who I say I am."

            

Mart scowled but was convinced by his friend's apologetic eye. She looked at him in a sad way and that could get him to do whatever. He knew it was mischievous and disingenuous, he wasn't stupid, but he went with her plays all the same.   

            

The Matcha man looked back and forth between their two faces with suspicion in his eyes. His gaze made Mart uncomfortable.

            

"It's my fault she's here, actually!" He began to formulate a lie. "I asked her to come here last night and she must have gotten lost."

            

"You know it's unacceptable to cross the Districts without cause and permission."

            

"I know… we just…" He smirked to himself while he thought up a way to get revenge for the indignant common she'd made about his manhood earlier. "We're lovers, you see? She's absolutely mad about me and it's difficult to keep her away from my side." He could practically feel the terrible rage emanating from his friend. "She's a tad lovesick and it drives her to drink but you shouldn't punish her for it. She's harmless."

            

The Matcha man let out a hearty laugh and his stern face melted into a more jolly expression.

            

"I have an Instructor, Tecta, he resides here. How about I take her inside to see him and deal with the matter there? It will save you the trouble of writing up and reporting this incident. It's past lunch after all and I can smell the lamb being served down the street."

            

"You're name is?"

            

"Mart, Soír."

            

His smile faded and he scowled. "You better make sure this does not happen again. If I catch her in here once more, I'll make sure you two never have an easy time crossing those Districts. Do you understand?"

            

"Yes, sir. I understand."

            

"Good. Take it up with the Instructor. You!" He pointed at Jyacoren. "Lay off the alcohol and the passionate endeavours. It's unbecoming of a Soír. You're going to hurt yourself or someone else eventually." With that he marched further into the bathhouse and rounded a corner out of sight.

            

The two stood there in silence for a minute.

            

"That was clo-" Jyacoren's elbow smashed into Mart's guts before he could finish his sentence. "Oh. Ah! Hey!" He hissed.

            

"Lovesick, eh?"

            

"Oh, shush. You've had your fun at my expense many times!"  

            

She grunted something and turned to leave. "Where did you go last night?"

            

"I went to The Centre."

            

"Why?"

           

"I ... I wanted to speak on your behalf about yesterday."

            

"I told you not to be concerned about it."

            

"I know you said that but I couldn't help myself."

            

She smiled at him involuntarily but quickly resumed her irritated expression. "And?"

            

"I tried to see Backus but he was with Harrgber."

            

"So I'm done for." She scowled deeper.

            

"Not exactly... Well, he was in favour of excluding you from the first final exam but, um, your mother decided that-"

            

"She was there?" Jyacoren snapped at him with tension in her voice. "So late at night? In the summer?"

            

"Well I do know that the tenth hour is popular for Generals to meet and discuss the more pertinent military matters after the other Soír have retired. That's why I decided to go after you went off. Perhaps she was there to witness that effort? It got quite busy once Backus showed up."

            

"She was probably there to meet that beast." She alluded to her Captain. "What did she say?"

            

He shifted on his sore feet while they walked. Climbing the stairs the other night twice had made his ankles stiff. "Not quite. She was in favour of you participating."

            

By this time they had left the bathhouse and were well on their way to the gate. Jyacoren stiffened and grabbed Mart's arm. "You're sure?" She demanded with a hint of panic. 

            

"Yes! Jya, I was there. I overheard them speaking in private. It was impossible to misinterpret."

            

She seemed unconvinced. Her mother's motives never included intent to involve the girl in anything important.

            

It's a ruse. She knew that Mart was familiar with me. She wants me to waste my time on preparation for something that won't occur. "Interesting." She mumbled still in thought.

            

Mart waved his arm at the gate man and the other waved back to begin hoisting the metal bars open. Once the gap was wide enough, they squeezed through.

            

"Trust me. There are records of each Creet who will participate. I checked them this morning." Indeed, Mart had made a special trip to the records library that morning to make sure his words were true. The records were in central Ougt and had required him to climb the stairs again. Mart despised those stairs so much and he was sure they would be the death of him. Records were kept with charcoal and paper. They were frequently updated each morning at sunrise. If she'd been stricken from the exam record, it would have been done this morning.

            

She took in his words and became suddenly anxious. She stopped walking and her eyes grew bulbous from her face. "Ah. Uh..." She keeled over beside him and vomited on the edge of the road.

            

He looked at her beaten body with concern. "Okay. We're going to an infirmary. You look absolutely terrible."

            

"No! I don-" She began coughing and heaved to vomit again.

            

"Can you once just accept some help? You're a mess and you have an exam in under a week."

            

"It will be fine." She said in between gasps of air. "I'm so hungry."

            

"Well you missed your ration of lunch at the Hult."

            

She stood up from her crouch where she'd become nauseated and glared at him. "I'm well aware."

            

It was custom but not well enforced for the two upper classes to dine under communal rations while the other two lower classes were free to go about selling and producing food within their respective districts; there are a total of four with borders spreading outward like an umbrella from the capital city to the gate by the southern entrance. Taxation on agriculture was used to feed the higher classes en masse.  Jyacoren had distaste for the food at the Hult. It was always variations of typical poultry and rice. She'd grown bored of it and preferred seasoned sea food or flat breads with pepper and chickpea.

            

"I'll pick up practice tomorrow. John and I will meet at the gymnasium. He's there each fifth day[9] and I can't miss his obnoxiously loud voice."

            

"Speaking of him, where did he scurry off to the other night?" Mart queried.

            

Jyacoren laughed despite the ache in her belly. "You should have seen him, poor man, he was incredibly drunk." She shook her head at the memory. "Braden - have you met him before? - He'll be participating in the exam next week as well. He struck me in the face after I said some choice words to their group. I don't remember the specifics but it wasn't pleasant. Regardless, John stepped in after the blow to my eye and just threw himself at the man. He looked like a straw doll in the field to scare the birds! So many utensils and cups went flying. It was absolutely magnificent." She cackled then heaved.

            

Mart rolled his eyes. "Just promise me you're going to take this exam seriously. I can't believe the luck you've just had. Please put some effort into this."

            

She breathed heavily. "I will. I promise." Her eyes wandered along the walls of the stone homes lining the roads. "Have you noticed that man has been staring at us the entire time?"

            

"What?" Mart asked and squinted and, sure enough, between the folds of two houses stood a figure appearing to peer in their direction.

            

Jyacoren craned her neck up and squared her shoulders. "Hey! You! Come out!"

            

The figure heeded her words and began to steal out toward them. Mart hissed between his teeth. "Don't yell at strangers, Jya…"

            

"Shut up, Mart."

            

The man approached the two of them. He wasn't young and his face was scarred. He was dressed in dark clothing and looked tired.

            

"Jyacoren Yotson?" He asked for her identity with her last name. She stayed quiet an feigned ignorance. The man stared at her like he was solving a puzzle. "You know I can recognize you by your nose, right? It's almost identical to your mother's."

            

She growled. "I am Yotson, yes."

            

"Your Captain needs you tomorrow beyond the gate." He thrust his hand into his pockets and pulled out a sheet of paper that looked well-used. "Tomorrow evening. Be there or risk losing your place at your exam." He grabbed at her hand suddenly to fold the note into it and she gasped. "Goodbye now and good luck." With that, the stranger stole away.

 

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[1] Translates to: fly accurately (mer-SEE-kat) Mur meaning to fly sikha meaning accuracy and T mean ly

[2]              Our equivalent to 7 p.m.

[3]              Odnaba; (odd-na-BA); Odna meaning necessary and Ba meaning murder; an Agent of Change who walks the line between his elder form, Ajahn Yotden; (ah-JAHN YOT-den), Yot meaning wisdom, De meaning justice, and the epitome suffix, N, and his child form, Croean Batvat (cro-EN BAR-vat; Ba meaning murder, R meaning ing, and Va meaning self and T as an adverb suffix - translated as: murdering selfishly) who encompasses revenge. Odnaba is seen as the god of warfare in humane or selfish interests.

[4] Translates to: desire that which comes toward power

[5] Agents of Order

[6] An expanse of land and people living to the Northeast where Mulberry trees and silk worms can be found - the journey is far and requires the crossing over the Da'ir mountain range and a journey through a massive marsh known for driving men and women mad.

[7] GO-ya; gou as an informal word to express gratitude and Ya meaning self - Sal translates to friend

[8] About five hours in our clock

[9] There are ten days in each week and four weeks in one month in the Da'ir calendar.