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Chapter Eleven

The next morning I walked side-by-side with Tobias on a stroll of the compound's grounds after lunch and listened intently to what he thought my problem was.

"The thing is, Ghul, you've got no offensive capabilities beyond being big and strong. Not one trick that you can't immediately figure out just by looking at you."

I frowned. "That's true, but that's more than enough to deal with any normal people I'm fighting. I am much bigger and much stronger. I'd bet on me nine times out of ten."

Tobias sighed and then spoke. "Do you really think you're being trained to fight normal people? Your teacher, who I've never heard of outside of your insane stories, can shrug off sword blows like they're bug bites."

The truth of the matter was a fair bit more graphic than that. His words made me think about the time when Delta stabbed himself with a knife to prove a point. It'd worked. Understatements of gore levels aside, I understood the point that Tobias was trying to make. Whoever I was being prepared to fight, it wasn't your average outlaw.

"Maybe not normal people," I conceded. "But it's not like everyone is going to be as tough as the Spineback, or as quick as Grady."

"All it takes is one," Tobias responded. "And then boom, no more Ghul."

I thought it was a foolish thing for me to worry about. There was no chance that I'd be fighting anyone that capable soon. Compared to that level, I was an ant. They didn't have any reason to care about my existence. Tobias just wanted me to be like the heroes of his stories, and I couldn't do that if I was a corpse in the ground. In a way, his concern was sweet.

I kicked a small, circular rock on the path as we passed it by. It dislodged from the ground and flew so far into the air that it vanished out of sight. I hadn't intended to send it hurtling toward the heavens, I just had no real understanding of the higher or lower bounds of my strength. Knitting had been an exercise in frustration, and I was getting nowhere with it. I'd count myself lucky if I'd successfully made a scarf by the time I was supposed to leave Alewife. I grumbled to myself about the unfairness of it all as we walked.

"By the skies, look at that!" Tobias exclaimed. My friend had stopped moving and was pointing at something in the distance, far off-shore and deep into the Endless Sea.

"Look at what?"

My voice trailed off as I followed his finger. The sight that greeted us was equal parts strange and intriguing. A mass of birds so large they could've been mistaken for a storm cloud was swarming over the water. Every few seconds two of them would collide and both would plummet into the depths below. They weren't yet close enough for us to hear them, but I knew it was only time until the sound of screeching filled my ears.

It looked like the kind of thing the more superstitious folk in Lille would call an omen. People would try to use the irregular flight of birds to justify all manner of strange predictions. I didn't put much stock in those traditions myself. Zeus wouldn't make his displeasure known by sending a bunch of winged creatures, I knew. He'd just blast us out of existence, promising [Status] or not.

"What'd you think has got them so riled up?" I asked him.

"Dunno. Maybe there's a storm coming," Tobias' eyes gleamed. "Or maybe there's something in the water."

A single bird flew away from the horde and glided through the air towards land. It dove low, almost as if it was going to head towards us. Then, it crashed into the rocky surf nearby. It didn't rise back up.

* * *

Later that day I had another Statecraft lesson with Voltani at the usual time. And like usual, it was getting nowhere. He'd been rambling on about how certain articles of clothing implied different societal standings and military accomplishments for the better part of an hour. I'm sure the knowledge was valuable, but I couldn't care less.

"The Alabaster Crown is one such object. A white headpiece indicates absolute authority, and as such is only worn by the divine. Excluding Zeus, who wears a ring of oak upon his brow."

I rolled my eyes. It wasn't Voltani's fault that my thoughts were completely elsewhere. But, his class definitely made an already bad time worse. I couldn't help but think about the Legion. I was worried about spending time in it, and equally worried about the fort called Lobsterhead.

"Voltani," I interrupted before he could continue on about godly wardrobe. "Can I ask you something?"

The wiry man looked bewildered. In our lessons thus far, I hadn't been one for asking questions.

"You may," He said. "But if it's about fighting or combat, I'm afraid Master Delta will be better equipped to handle it."

"It's not about fighting, or at least, not directly." I paused, deciding how best to collect my worries into a question. "What's the legion like? Everyone says that it's dangerous. No one is really willing to go beyond that."

He gave me a sympathetic look. "That's because the Legion is dangerous, Ghul. The survival rate of Enlisted Legionnaires is less than one in three over a five-year span. Even then, those that do survive often re-enlist, because a life of service to New Rome is all that they are capable of."

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One in three? I hadn't realized that the Legion was that much of a death trap. It was no wonder that Zeus' armed forces were constantly looking for new fodder.

"All that they're capable of? Why's that?" The end of his statement hadn't made sense to me.

"The combat force that a god brings to bear.. exposure to it changes a man," Voltani shuddered.

"They lose track of what's important. They find themselves unable to operate without the high-stress, dangerous work of serving Zeus against New Rome's enemies. Many of them lose their sense of purpose entirely. Rather than face that, most voluntarily stay in."

I was being groomed to spend a single term in the Legion, and then be yanked out into Jacobi's private guard for his ward Calliope. I'd imagined my survival to be more of a sure thing when I'd signed the initial contract. Apparently, I was wrong. I still wasn't sure why Calliope was important enough to warrant a personal guard, but Voltani had assured me that all would be explained in due time. What the tutor said next snapped me out of my thoughts.

"It's a miracle your teacher was even allowed to leave at all, or that he even wanted to."

My jaw dropped. "Delta was in the Legion?"

Voltani raised an eyebrow at me. "You didn't know? Delta wasn't just in the Legion, he was the very sharp point of the proverbial lightning bolt. A Galestalker."

I didn't recognize the term he'd used.

"A what?"

"A Galestalker. They who lurk in the clouds when Zeus casts his judgement and exact his will with the first strike of lightning." That sounded intense. The formal language obscured a lot of what it meant, however. All I took away was that it involved Zeus and being early to the fight.

"Why would that mean he wouldn't be allowed to leave?" I was curious because I had a hard time imagining the Legion punishing their most capable soldiers, not that I thought anyone could overpower Delta if he tried to stop them.

"It's simply not something that had ever happened before. Most Galeriders are divine, and Bellerophon was the first to step away from their hallowed ranks."

"Belle-who?" I intoned.

The look on Voltani's face suddenly became an ugly red. It wasn't quite of annoyance, but I couldn't put my finger on what his expression meant.

"Never you mind." He snapped. "Lesson's over."

He quickly packed up his books, somewhat haphazardly stuffing them into his satchel bag, and left out of the door at the front of the room as I watched.

I had no idea what had prompted him to end the Statecraft lesson so abruptly, but I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I had many hours more free time than usual. For a second, I didn't know what to do with myself.

Then, an idea crossed my mind. I could make good on a promise to a friend, and get rid of that strange feeling in my stomach about being cooped up at Alewife. It was the perfect opportunity for me to take Tobias to see the turtle.

* * *

I remembered the trip the first time around being a lot more nerve-wracking. For the first time, I took advantage of the regular coach ferrying people between Alewife and Lille. The wagon ride to the Spineback's nesting site was entirely uneventful, save for the driver talking our ears off about a new shop opening up in Lille. It specialized in frozen desserts, and he swore that eating them made him feel a dozen years younger and like he had ten thousand fewer miles on his legs. Tobias and I listened with polite interest, shared a few grins amongst ourselves, and the driver agreed to wait around to give us a couple of minutes to inspect the area.

The ghost of the worries I'd felt before fighting the Horror resurfaced when the beach entered sight, but I took a deep breath and firmly quashed the irrational feelings. The Horror was dead. It no longer posed a threat to me. I knew this. I only needed to convince my body of the same.

The first thing I noticed was the smell. It was like something had died twice over. In a way, I supposed, something had.

"Whew, that's foul!" Tobias said. "But where's the Horror?"

It was my turn to point. I motioned with one finger toward what looked like a hill on the far end of the beach. The tide was incapable of moving the Spineback, but, that didn't mean it was incapable of moving the ground around it. It'd sunk at least two feet into the earth from the last time I'd been here. The jagged edges of the shell made it look like a surprisingly natural rock formation. It was a type of disguise, even if the beast was dead.

"It's right there." I nodded towards it to emphasize my point.

"You've gotta be kidding me."

Tobias ran towards the sunken grave, letting out expletives in excitement as he went. His expensive, formal clothing very quickly became covered in sand and dirt from the surface of the beach. He paid it no mind, running forward until he reached the mammoth shell. He put both his hands forward, his palms flat against the sun-kissed bone. I followed shortly behind him at a leisurely walking pace.

When I finally caught up, he looked right back at me and asked, "You wrestled this thing?"

"It's more like I held it in the air for a few seconds," I shrugged. "The garrison has gone crazy with stories about the fight. Grady and Prospero were the ones who did the killing, not me. I could hardly scratch the damn thing."

"Ghul, can you blame them? This is the type of thing that people write stories about. A valiant young man tapping on a previously unknown power to save a comrade in distress? You couldn't be more inspiring if you tried."

When he put it like that, I couldn't help but feel like a walking cliché.

"I think you're putting too much stock into a single fight with a Horror, Toby."

"Maybe. But seeing it in person," He knocked on the shell. It resounded with a sloshing noise that sounded like a container full of water. "makes me think that you're underestimating what you're capable of."

We shared a long look, both of us saying nothing. It was interrupted only by the sight of a plume of smoke rising inland. A large one, the kind only caused by a building forced to kindle, in the direction of Alewife. My eyes flickered to look at it, a concerned glance passed between us.

We ran toward the wagon without looking back.