A soft yet consistent buzz irritated the side of Leikasz’s head, muscle memory giving a response of lightly tapping the small device on his ear allowing a holographic screen to project in front of one eye. Within milliseconds, the time, temperature, date, and a small GPS-like map appeared in his field of view. An augmented reality, designed for military usage, allowing ease of access throughout the galaxy provided maps are available; both written and spoken communications could be performed along with the taking and sharing of photos. Fully adapted to this technology, Leikasz mentally controlled the windows and tabs, opening a flagged beacon labelled ‘Captain’. It seemed to be a distress call, but with a black exclamation mark it must have triggered automatically.
“Why do I always miss the good stuff?” he sighed, following the automated directions to his captain’s location. Yet another alleyway located between restaurants, it was short with a dead end populated with multiple large bins. Leikasz stood in the centre of the valley of bins; looking around, up, down, underneath a single piece of cardboard. He thought for a second, then opened the large bin located against the end wall of the alleyway, furthest from any form of entrance.
“Oh, there you are captain,” He stated, looking down towards a water-drenched mess of a person. Blood trailed down his face, joining with the blood pouring through a massive wound located where his arm should be. It looked like it was cut perfectly, even his kimono bore no signs of tearing. The missing arm could be found amongst his severely broken, snapped, twisted legs, completely red with blood. Leikasz stared at the mess with a straight face, his mind taking in every piece of information, “you still alive?” he asked, clanging the stock of his rifle against the bin.
The captain’s body jolted awake, sunken bloodshot eyes barely managed to focus on the man before him. His mouth quivered, blue lips struggling to push words from nearly collapsed lungs; “Kay…” he whispered with a harsh, forced voice, “he…. Did…. This…. Kay…” The body returned to it’s sleeping state, this time for eternity.
Leikasz nodded his head and pursed his lips in fake understanding, pulling the lid slightly to allow it to slam against the bin. “Kay.” He said to himself, “Okay?” Leikasz simply didn’t get it. Who killed him? Why was he saying ‘okay’? Mentally, he set up a phone call with a ‘Safha’, who answered immediately.
“Did you find the captain?” A concerned yet strong woman’s voice questioned, “Where have you been?”
“Yeah, yeah, I found him.” Leikasz answered, “Deader than a dead thing,”
“Fuck,” She sighed, “do you know who?”
Leikasz returned to the main street once more, attentively following signs pointing towards the mixed dockyard. “His dying words made no sense, Saffy, he just said ‘okay’” He complained, sharing vocal annoyance as he squeezed through the crowed. It was only then that it hit him, a massive billboard floated between the railways, sharing details on ‘An interview with Kay, tonight on channel 3’ accompanied with an image of Kay himself, standing boldly with a warming smile.
“Nevermind…” Leikasz spoke slowly, all the pieces coming together within his mind, “I have a lead. Meet me at the ship immediately.” He hung up, tapping his device once more to remove the holographics. A determined expression took over his face, hints of rage hiding behind small facial twitches. He picked up the pace towards the ship.
Yanyak returned to a mixture of concern and anger, many familiar faces of the temple shifted into shock as they saw their fellow student appear with crudely wrapped, blooded arms. Fatigue had finally caught up with the boy in the form of a discoloured face, heavy eyelids, and an unsteady balance. Multiple gazes of mixed emotions pierced into Yanyak as his brain finally gave up with the overwhelming sources of information, leading to a world of blackness and a loud thump.
“I mean it, Master, I had no idea what he was up to,” Bamyak’s voice slowly faded into existence, a distressed tone accompanied his rushed explanation of the situation, “We both went separate ways so we could meet our own friend groups!”
“I don’t recall ever permitting the two of you to leave the temple grounds, let alone mingle with others,” A strong, older voice replied, while showing an angry and strict tone it also remained calm. Yanyak’s eyes finally opened, his view of the world blurred as his eyes regained their focus, silently watching Bamyak pace back and forth with unease as a highly familiar and respected figure stood calmly with crossed arms.
Dressed in the same robes as the two brothers, the taller and much more muscular figure outshone the entire room. Donning a grey turban decorated with a thin golden chain and green gems which seemed to pulsate periodically. His face was fairly worn, dark and wrinkled while a thick black beard took over the entirety of his lower face. it was well groomed and maintained with a mixture of braids and string which matched the additional details added to his well-kept robes, medals and ribbons wrapped around his arms or weaved into his belt. A distinct image of an experienced and powerful flow master.
“Yanyak,” the master spoke out, quickly noticing the boy’s awakening as if he could see everything in the room at once. He was much less demanding and fierce towards Yanyak, a display of care and concern which most definitely would wash off once a recovery was complete.
“Master Irr’ra,” Yanyak croaked, reaching for a glass of water situated beside his bed. That’s right, he was carried into his bed, no wonder the room seemed comforting. “I’m sorry,” Yanyak continued, sighing with relief as the liquid sunshine refreshed his entire body.
“Take your time, child,” Irr’ra turned to support Yanyak’s back, helping him to sit up while avoiding placing any pressure on his heavily bandaged arms, already patchy with blood.
“I’m okay, Master,” Yanyak winced in pain as he placed weight on his arms in an attempt to sit on the edge of the bed. “It wasn’t Bamyak’s fault.”
Bamyak’s pacing halted in response to his brother’s statement, his face lit up with relief, knowing he would be relieved from any more scolding now that Yanyak’s incompetence could be explained. Irr’a simply returned to a full stand, his eyes darted towards Bamyak in a dismissing sense. “Could you leave now, Cannon. I wish to hear your brother’s story.” His tone had completely diminished to an eerie, knowledge hunting tone as disappointment and anger returned to his deep brown eyes. There was absolutely no hesitation to Bamyak’s retreat, quickly bowing his body as a good-bye before slithering through the doorway, allowing the hinges to slam the door shut.
Irr’ra, completely facing Yanyak now, had already fallen completely silent. Like a switch had flipped within his mind as he stood completely still, arms still crossed, waiting for the slew of information to leave the student’s mouth. As if hypnotised by his master’s gaze, Yanyak spewed everything he knew. The strange foreigner, a threatening approach, walking through the city, the symbol of a claw and this ‘traitor’ that forced such a heroic response from the young man. As the story was told, Irr’ra’s nods pushed for more details, prying for every last detail imaginable.
“That explains your broken phone,” Irr’ra finally spoke, giving answers to his own questions as he assessed the validity of Yanyak’s story; the missing pieces of information falling perfectly in the holes of reason as answers naturally pieced themselves together. “And your arms…” he further commented, moving his gaze to the tightly wrapped bandages. “Those… ‘hands’ you described. They came from your own flow state?” He questioned, already knowing of the student’s capabilities yet still lacking in the experience of watching it take place.
“That’s right, Master, my flow takes the form of hands. Should that be my name?” Yanyak confirmed, his eyes lighting up as he realised he could finally gain a name for his power.
“Hand is a suitable name for you, child.” Irr’ra agreed, lowering his arms to his side. “However, you have much to train in to prevent this damage from growing any further. It seems your body is not suited for this gift you have developed, and so you should change it in order to nurture your flow.” Irr’ra crouched down and gently held one of Yanyak’s arms, lightly examining the pattern of blood stains which followed the lightning-like ruptures in his skin. “This damage is caused by flow, and so it cannot be healed by the forces of Ayna. I have done what I could to control the bleeding with my affinity, it is now up to your own nature for the healing to set.” He stood, nodding to himself with finality, “We will be expecting a visitor in time. I suggest you keep rested as we will be travelling then.”
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
Yanyak leaned forward in response, practically hovering in the space before his bed, “The rites of proving, Master?” He asked, slightly shaking in anticipation.
“You and your brother will be entered, but we must have our visitor to examine you first as you are a season away from eighteen.” Irr’ra explained further, “Should you not be accepted as an unfortunate age, you will not enter. Hence, rest.” He turned away, instantly, not allowing Yanyak to pry any further as he ever so smoothly stepped towards the doorway. His movements were as fluid as water gently flowing around the stones of a river bed, opening the door without a single sound before stepping outside granting a final statement as the door closed, “If I see or hear of activities even slightly suggesting high action, you will not be entered.”
The dockyard was huge, situated at the edge of Pra’avsk along a natural harbour between land and ocean. A myriad of ships filled every vacant area of the dockyard, each hailing from a different part of the planet carrying goods for processing, trade, or interplanetary shipping. Above the wet dockyard stood the special section, consisting of a traditional wet dockyard design suspended in the air with large metallic nets below. Space ships gently hovered in the docking areas, all adopting the same galleon-like design of a main hull, massive masts, and several floors of cannonry. At the peak of the tallest mast flew flags representing the dominions of the commonwealth. One of which bore a symbol consisting of three triangles overlapping and angled in a way which resembles an abstract design of a bird’s beak and wings placed upon a deep blue background, the symbol of the Payemyndii.
It was here where Leikasz had speed walked towards, the crew of this small schooner instantly recognised his characteristics, allowing a gangplank to fall into place for his boarding. While welcomed with many smiles, Leikasz had other things on his mind, nodding in appreciation for their welcome as he squeezed his way towards the captain’s quarters of the ship. Entering this room already gave a wave of relaxation in the form of purple colouring, functional decorations including armour, weaponry, and multiple holoscreens presenting different forms of information. His lone arrival interrupted by an annoying colleagues voice,
“What the fuck happened to you?” The woman spoke out, raising from one of the many desks spread across the room, her uniform was similar to Leikasz’s, a blue kimono and green hakama while bearing a sheathed sword tucked within the sash of her kimono. Long black hair covered half of her face while the rest was loosely tied together at the back, only one bright blue eye measured the man up and down.
Leikasz stood in annoyance at first, his mind repeating her words over and over before he remembered about his ripped sleeves. “Oh, found that traitor and uh…” he thought for a second, considering mentioning his full encounter to be laughed at, or only a portion of it. “… shit happened.”
“And the traitor?” The woman asked, not surprised at her colleague’s vagueness,
“Other shit happened too, bastard got away and I lost my precious sleeves…” Leikasz gave an exaggerated shrug, further promoting his lack of care over the past and current situation.
“You should sit,” The woman dragged a wheeled chair over to the desk, “Her majesty would like a word with us.”
Leikasz perked up at the mention of her majesty, a giddy smile plastered across his face as he quickly plopped himself onto the seat, spinning the chair around to stop right at the holoscreen. Little did he know that a call had already been up and running, the eagerness to start the call had taken over his reason as he marvelled at the sight of the three dimensional hologram of his queen. The smile on his face slowly faded as he came to the realisation that she had watched the entire conversation take place in silence. He was far too rude towards her highness.
“I am glad you are well, Leikasz, Novask,” The hologram finally spoke a graceful voice, movements of such grandeur manifesting as slight nods towards the two. “And what of your captain? Novask informed me of his passing.” Her face remained completely neutral, slender eyes gazing directly into Leikasz’s skull,
“I found ‘im in a bin, my Ach-, Your Majesty,” Leikasz replied, cutting off a hold habit of his with a slight bow of respect. “His last words were the name of his killer, Kay.”
“You mean that over confident Aqii smiling across the entire city?” Novask questioned in a confirmatory manner, showing signs of disgust simply at the thought of the man.
“Yeah, that guy, dunno how some politician dude could’a done it but ya gotta trust the words of a dyin’ man”
“I trust he is resting where he fell.” Seishaw assumed, receiving a slight nod from Leikasz in reply, allowing a change of subject to take place.
“I am contacting to confirm these suspicions; it just happens that we have found mister Kay to be taking part in a myriad of suspicious activities. Most of which being involved with the same organisation that past Regent was a part of. Perhaps a second attempt?” Seishaw explained carefully, her words spoken in means clearer than the purest crystals while her voice seemed to give a soothing effect on the other members of the conversation. Leikasz specifically could listen to this for the rest of his life.
“Fifth claw?” Novask asked,
“That is correct,” Seishaw nodded, “Investigations are continuing but everything is far too clean for our liking. And so…” She turned to Leikasz, “Following Captain Rena’s fall, I formally declare Leikasz, Acher of the Pierot Clan, to be Captain of the Nora and her existing and future commissions.” She then turned to Novask, “As for Novask, I wish to withdraw you from the Nora and her commissions,” Novask’s face fell into a frown of despair, terrified of the reasoning for this decision.
“Is there something I failed, Your Majesty?” Novask asked, her voice shaking with fear,
“Please, calm yourself Novask. I have identified your capabilities and decided that the two of you can continue commissions as solitary captains.” The atmosphere of the room quickly returned to an upbeat tone, “A ship should be arriving soon to bring you back to Iyoh, your new commissions will begin three days’ post arrival. Congratulations to the two of you.” Seishaw nodded again with a slight smile that could cure any sadness, her eyes closed ever so slightly with the genuine feelings she held towards the situation and the people involved.
Leikasz quickly stood to attention, his actions forcing Novask to do the same. “We will continue serving the crown and country through our commissions as required. Thank you for your honoured reorganisation of roles.” The two spoke in unison, saluting their monarch with a strong fist against their chest. Seishaw replied to their declaration with another smile and a nod before ending the call, allowing the holoscreen to return to its two dimensional statistical windows. Novask slumped forward with a massive sigh of relief, looking up to see an overly proud Leikasz standing with yet another smug smile.
“Go on. Say it.” Novask said, returning to her inch-taller stance,
Leikasz smiled, stepping forward to get all up in Novask’s face, “Get off my ship.”
Novask scoffed in response, stepping away with no hesitation, “Asshole.”
A week had passed since the start of Yanyak’s recuperation period, with the assistance of daily life Ayna therapies provided by Irr’ra, the bandages had finally been removed leaving behind several thick scars stretching across both forearms. And so, Yanyak sat on the edge of the inner temple overlooking the training grounds, a grassless area from the constant wear and tear of devotees undergoing their standard regimen. A slight sigh escaped his body as he watched Bamyak practice the Lemascian martial arts, a mixture of kicks and slow yet powerful fists while simultaneously mixing in Ayna and flow. Bamyak’s practice incorporated his fire affinity, with slow punches unleashing bursts of flames carried by the momentum of the movement; additionally, he would activate his flow, leading to the appearance of massive arm-sized cannons attached to his forearms firing of a burst of flow energy for a surprisingly long range. With the state of the stone training dummies, the power of Bamyak could really be qualified after the majority of the dummy was left as a pile of singed and shattered stones.
With the rhythmic clenching and unclenching of his fists, an attempt to maintain strength in his arms, Yanyak sighed once more as his gaze drifted upward to the dark overcast skies of Pra’avsk. “It looks like it’s going to rain,” Yanyak stated, somewhat confused at the risk of rain despite it being far from the monsoon season.
“You don’t need to tell me that, dumbass,” Bamyak replied between swings, his breath still controlled yet exhibiting signs of fatigue. “Let me just…” He pulled his fist back with a groan of focus as his eyes began to glow a little due to his flow state. One more cannon formed on his arm, charging up a final burst of energy as it fired a massive shot of flow, finishing off the stone training dummy in a spectacular explosion of stone and energy.
Yanyak gave an impressed whistle at the sight, recognising his brother’s power with a couple claps before hopping down from his ledge. “I can give you a hand cleaning up,” He said, stepping over to the training grounds. Suddenly, a whistle sounded from the entrance of the temple grounds, grabbing both students’ attention as they instantly recognised a for their presence. Rushing to the source of the whistle, the two found Master Irr’ra standing with his usual cross-armed stance alongside a strange man they had never seen before. He was tall, much taller than the already mighty Irr’ra, he was like a giant. Additionally, his skin had more of a pale complexion, similar to that of the Payemyndii but with a slight hue of green; the tone of central, most probably hailing from the centre areas of the Commonwealth. To add to this belief, his clothing was of much higher quality, a long black cloak draped over his shoulders covering what seemed to be a leather uniform. Brown and black with no signs of affiliation anywhere. Godless, perhaps?
“Ah there you are, children,” Irr’ra called out, cutting off the conversation he was having with the visitor while turning to face the two. Bamyak was quick to join the two, looking the new face up and down, measuring up. Meanwhile, Yanyak was a lot more cautious, his past experience with new people had led to unfortunate events so of course he would treat this new face as a threat. Only becoming more comfortable once Bamyak had moved closer.
“Children, this is Grandmaster Kijeg, of the pulse.” Irr’ra introduced the man, nodding his head in the direction of the giant of a man, “Grandmaster, this is Bamyak, of the cannon. And this is Yanyak, of the hand.” He introduced the brothers, nodding towards each respective one who had nodded towards the grandmaster in greeting.
“It’s nice to meet you two,” Kijeg replied, nodding back, “I’ve heard a lot about the both of you from Master Irr’ra, very interesting indeed.” He crouched down slightly to reach the same height as Yanyak, staring at his arms before looking into his eyes, “And you’ve got the unfortunate age right?”
Yanyak nodded timidly, struggling to read the nature of this man, like he had perfected the skill of masking his intentions.
“I heard the story from Master Irr’ra, got yourself into quite the predicament didn’t you?” He smiled, “I hope you’ve learned your lesson, think you can prevent this much self-harm?”
“Um, I’ve learned the nature of my flow,” Yanyak stuttered in response, struggling to keep eye contact, “I think I could use it but I’m scared it may happen again,”
Kijeg returned to standing, nodding to himself as his thoughts were finalised, “Today’s your lucky day, I’m overseeing this year’s rites of proving and designing the current encounters. And so, I can give the decision to allow your entry despite being under eighteen.” He turned to Bamyak, “I’m sure you can look after your little brother,” another smile spread across his face, almost like it was hypnotising, like this smile could get anyone to agree. Even Bamyak could do nothing but nod in agreement to Kijeg’s assumption, like he had mentally signed a contract.
“Now then,” Irr’ra clasped his hands together, allowing a small bow to occur towards Kijeg, “Why don’t you stay for dinner? I’m sure this overcast has left you starving! I can’t guarantee good quality light though,”
Kijeg gave another smile, “You know, that would be wonderful.” He raised both hands slightly in a form of shadow embrace, “Don’t worry about the quality, I’ve had worse.” He turned his gaze to the brothers, “I’ve spent three seasons living off artificial light on Earth before,”
Both Bamyak and Yanyak lit up, their inquisitive natures pouring out of their bodies as Kijeg could sense the next buffet of questions. “Why don’t I tell you the story over dinner?” He placed himself between the two, patting both hands on their heads. “Besides, we have some travel to do tomorrow.”