"I shall destroy our enemies in a sea of holy flame!"
"You...do know you aren't actually holy, yeah?"
-
When Calibura had told Sen someone would come get him, he didn't say it would be at five in the morning.
Sen yawned, his breath fogging the glass. Inside the pad, a shirtless soldier fought another similarly-dressed soldier with training knives. He didn't want to say he was anxious, but...
Calibura was nowhere to be seen. Sen supposed he didn't blame him; he had more important things to attend to, anyway. In his place were three platoon commanders, including Gova, who all looked much too awake for how early it was. Though Gova had given him a small smile when he'd arrived, all three were now heavily focused on the match in the ring.
It didn't last long. One was clearly superior to the other, disarming his opponent and forcing him to submit in a matter of seconds. Sen could barely follow their movements, but the commanders frowned and muttered amongst themselves as they watched.
As the loser limped off to the showers, the victor sauntered over, a grin plastered on his suspiciously non-sweaty face. "Sen!" The boy had met Seross Archambeau briefly the previous night after dinner. The scruffy, brown-haired man had an accent Sen couldn't place. "You ready?"
The look on his face must have said it all. Seross threw his head back and barked out a laugh, a contagious, hearty guffaw even Sen had to crack a small smile at. "C'mon kid." He jerked his head at the ring.
Begrudgingly, Sen followed the soldier through the glass and into the ring, though calling it a ring was an overstatement. It was little more than a concrete pad. "Basic fitness is up first," Seross said, stretching his arms. "Then hand-to-hand. Melee weapons after that. Finally guns. You know, the good part."
Gova threw Sen a thumbs up. He returned a nervous smile.
The next hour was hell. Despite Sen's resolution on Culwell's ship, he hadn't kept up with exercise on the Revenant. The first 45 minutes contained nothing but basic exercises he was wholly unprepared for. Within moments, sweat drenched his borrowed khakis.
Seross gauged his hand-to-hand combat skills for less than a minute before calling it. He'd tried hard to avoid hurting the boy, but in the end, Sen still managed to injure himself.
"Take a breather," the soldier said. "Then pick a melee weapon you like and we'll take a look."
Sen didn't respond, limping over to the weapon rack and collapsing in a heap. As he sucked in oxygen at an alarming rate, Archambeau wandered over to the commanders. Can't even do the basics, Sen berated himself. Before he knew it, he was hyperventilating. As his vision began to cloud, he recognized the blackout coming on and reached out to steady himself.
Almost immediately, his vision cleared. His breathing eased, and the pain in his leg subsided. "What...?" Sen muttered, moving his hand to the bruise. The moment his hand left the rack, the exhaustion returned. The boy reeled from the shock and jumped to his feet, his body shaky.
Sen glanced at the rack.
At first, nothing on it seemed to jump out at him. It was a simple metal grate with various melee weapons on it, from knives to swords to implements even larger than that. As he searched, he felt his gaze drift towards the spears. He reached out and touched one, savoring the wave of relief as it washed over him.
Picking up the spear, he closed his eyes, a nostalgic feeling rippling through his body. He was positive he'd never felt anything like it before, but it was familiar nonetheless. Wielding the weapon felt effortless, as though he could use it in his sleep. In just a few jabs, he was confident he knew exactly how to handle the weapon in any situation.
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Sen squinted at the blade. Some primal piece of him wished there was more reach to it. A minor problem. He could make it work. He twirled the weapon with a deft twist of the wrist, tucking it behind his shoulder, and snatched the other spear off the rack. "Seross!" He marched into the ring, lobbing the weapon at the soldier. "I wanna try something."
Archambeau flinched, nearly dropping the spear chucked at his head. "Whoa, where'd this energy come from?" He exchanged a glance with the platoon commanders. "I mean, if you insist. Just don't overdo it. Nobody needs to get hurt."
"I want you to try to kill me."
"Wait."
"I don't think I'll learn what I want to know if you go easy on me."
"Wait."
Sen launched himself at the trainer with fury and flair that would've sparked jealousy in even seasoned spearmen. Archambeau struggled to hold his own against the raw onslaught of blows from the boy, parrying attack after attack as they cascaded over him with relentless precision.
From outside, Gova tilted her head, her eyes on Sen. It was like he had become a completely different person, confidence and experience radiating from every minute movement. The instructor couldn't retaliate, not once.
Eventually, Sen drew blood, the tip of the spear catching Seross's bicep and tearing through fabric and skin alike. A wave of bloodlust washed over the boy, and he gasped in shock, dropping the weapon. A feeling of desiderium washed over him.
He stared at the spear. Touching it would relieve him of the feeling, he knew, but only temporarily. Rather, he was missing something else. Something he hadn't seen in a very long time. "Li," he muttered, forgetting he wasn't alone. "Help me out here."
"Who's Li?"
Sen started, looking up as Archambeau strolled over, a now-bloodsoaked rag pressed to his arm. Right, he'd done that. Why, or even how, was a different story. The boy dropped his gaze. "Sorry," he mumbled.
The instructor belted out a laugh, startling Sen once again. "Injuries are common in the ring," he chuckled, visibly fighting the urge to collapse into laughter. "You're lethal; that's exactly what we needed to know."
Sen fought the urge to grin. He knew he shouldn't feel ecstatic about the prospect of hurting another person, but something told him he'd need to go down this path to find the answers he seeked.
"Get changed, kid. Go eat. We have much training ahead of us."
-
"I shall destroy our enemies in a sea of holy flame!"
Sen watched the memory from Li's eyes as a dark-skinned man named Brun scorched unfamiliar creatures with golden flames, cackling with glee. "You...do know you aren't actually holy, yeah?" he heard and felt himself say. He was Li again, and yet he wasn't. Something felt different.
At this point, Sen was willing to admit these were memories. They clearly weren't his, however, and whoever Li was lived a very long time ago. He was most certainly dead by now. But Brun appeared to be a Mennesk, and Li, by extension, was likely one as well. It would explain how his memories had been transmitted to him, but not why Mennesks seemed to exist before the Shattering.
"China, 1382." A familiar voice filled Sen's head. He nearly gave himself whiplash trying to move his head. "The six of us repel an extradimensional invasion from the weakened Seventh Void. Not a single human knows.
"Brun does most of the fighting, but has his head taken off about four days in." Right on cue, the brawny man is decapitated by what looks to Sen like a giant insect. "I'm forced to fight for the first time in...god, how long had it been? Ages." Gee, thanks.
A blade flashed in the darkness, golden light gleaming from the shining metal. A significant portion of the advancing horde collapsed, smashed under the feet of their stampeding comrades.
Sen recognized the weapon, but this time it had a longer grip. The blade with the pointed edge returned to Li, splitting in two as he caught it. A modular glaive.
Li made quick work of the rest of the horde, cutting through them effortlessly, like a man who has practiced a single weapon his entire life. A CQB master with the powers of a Mennesk.
"I die here."
The creatures close in. Li has the staff end of his weapon knocked away, but continues stabbing as he's shredded to pieces. Blood fills the air. Li cackles like Brun, glee for battle filling his heart. A sickening grin spreads across his face, even has he's hacked apart.
Inside, Sen was fixated on the piridum. The glaive. Even as he and Li are torn asunder by horrific, monstrous beasts, his hand gripping the blade gave him a sense of security, confidence, and power he'd never felt before. And from the lack of staff, a familiar sense of desiderium.
Li spoke in his head again, just before the lights went out. "It's a pretty fun time, all things considered," he says. Sen's visions faded. "The other four clean up without-"
Sen blinked, a concrete floor filling his vision and the smell of copper filling his nose. He choked on liquid pouring down his throat. "Sen!" Gova rolled him out of the pool of his own blood. "You with me?"
"Ugh," he grumbled. "Whud happen?"