Jasvinder Krishnan

The old jeep's suspension creaks alarmingly as it bounces on a pothole in the cracked road, sending a spine shaking jolt up everyone's back. I grimace in discomfort from my place in the rear passenger area and Sammie gets slammed hard against her seat from the shock. Her boyfriend, the wolf man Jackson keeps driving in silence, cruising through the winding side streets of the concrete desert. Just ahead of us is the bandit's rusty truck trundling along with most of the bandits riding in the back.

"Ow. That really smarts." Sammie mutters with a frown, "I really should have picked a better ride to jack."

"Jeep is fine." Jackson replies absently, "Brought food for village. That most important thing."

"Yup. Yup." Sammie nods in her boyfriend's direction, "But that woman, Lena, was it? She wasn't very happy to see you."

Jackson makes an uncomfortable noise and sinks back into silence. I take the opportunity to join the conversation.

"Lena was the bandit leader, wasn't she?" I ask Jackson, recalling that scruffy beast woman who spoke to me during the battle. Her grey coat of fur was stringy and lined with occasional scars, making her wiry figure look even more unhealthy. She no longer had a tail, at least not the entire length of it. A small nub is all that remained, most likely left behind from a fight. But her body was hard with muscle. This Lena had clearly led a hard life and become an equally hard person.

"Leader of the village Braves." Jackson says neutrally, "Not bandits. Thinks Jackson weak for leaving village."

Sammie's face takes on a worried look and she clutches Jackson by the shoulder as she speaks, "You don't think this Lena will cause trouble right?"

"Lena does not like Jackson." Jackson replies, "But we have food for upcoming feast. Present food to elders, we can stay."

"The feast?" I purse my lips, completely lost in this conversation.

"Iros's feast day silly." Sammie smiles at me, "The plan Jackson and I worked out is brilliant. We show up bearing a load of food for the feast and use it to bribe the village elders into accepting me. Smart, huh?"

"Why do you need Jackson's village to accept you?" I ask, getting an increasingly bad feeling, "Why are you here anyway? Shouldn't a Class A Valkyrie be back securing the Citadel?"

"Uh, I may have stolen the jeep?" Sammie mutters while playing with her collar, "And the fuel. And maaaybe some of the better rations sent to the Valkyries."

"What." I say in a stunned, flat voice.

"Food mostly bought by Jackson." Sammie's boyfriend helpfully supplements.

"So you're what, a deserter?" I focus back on Sammie, "Running away from your unit?"

Sammie leans forward and jabs me in the chest with an index finger in response, "And you? What's an Auxilia doing out here by himself?Looks like someone has decided to go AWOL by his lonesome."

My face flushes in embarrassment from Sammie's challenge and I look away while heaving an annoyed sigh. My life just got a whole lot complicated.

"Relax." Sammie's hostility immediately disappears as suddenly as it flared up, "I'm not going to rat you out. Both of us are in the same boat after all."

"Thanks." I mutter without any energy. This is serious. Yellow Roses would be set loose to haul any Valkyrie that deserted back to the Citadel. Sammie is still taking things lightly, but she has unknowingly become a magnet for trouble.

"Anyway, I'm not deserting." Sammie smugly concludes, "I'm eloping with my one true love." Jackson coughs awkwardly at this statement and the jeep hits another pothole thanks to this moment of distraction.

"Well, its true!" Sammie protests heatedly, "There's no need to hide it anymore, isn't there?"

"I love you too Sammie." Jackson replies from the driver's seat with surprising solemnity.

"And that's that." Sammie grins triumphantly, "So what about you? Why are you on the run?"

"I don't really feel like going into it." I say evasively.

"Oh come on!" Sammie gives me a friendly punch on the arm, "I told you my dirty secret right? And Jackson is giving you a lift to his village in the bargain. Fair's fair."

"I got into a fight with a, well, friend." I note morosely, surrendering to Sammie's insistent attitude, "He's now trying to kill me."

"Then that guy can't be much of a friend." Sammie regards me with an incredibly critical look.

"He's not." I agree before shrugging, "Its complicated. Our relationship I mean. But I'm not safe in the Citadel, so that's why I'm out here."

"You could call the Militia." Sammie points out.

I snort dismissively, "You and Jackson could have a relationship in the Citadel."

"Yeah. Point." Sammie sighs, shutting her eyes, "Things are complicated."

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As Sammie sinks into a contemplative silence, the tight streets of the concrete desert open up into a flat dusty plain and Jackson throws the jeep into a high gear, closely following behind the bandit truck. The plain is completely featureless except for a derelict flyover standing in the distance. And right underneath the flyover is a rude collection of shabby buildings, protected by a wall made out of scrap metal. Most of the buildings are nondescript, but one is topped by a large stone statue of a hooded old woman that towers over the wall itself. A sour scent wafts from the village and is carried in our direction upon the wind.

"Almost there." Jackson helpfully informs, pointing at the shanty town.

"Why is there a statue to Iros in your village, Jackson?" I ask.

"Transmission station built in village with help of a travelling priestess and trade caravan." Jackson explains, "Consecrated in honor of Iros."

"The place looks ... nice?" Sammie says, but the disappointment is palpable in her voice. I don't blame her, going from the Citadel to a village with no proper sewerage and probably no running water can't be pleasant.

"We can make it work." Jackson reassures, "As long as we try."

"Both of you plan to settle here?" I comment from the sidelines.

"Yeah. That's the plan." Sammie murmurs, nodding to herself, almost physically pushing her unhappiness away.

"If you don't mind me asking," I say delicately, "What do you plan to do in this village?"

"Well, Jackson is strong, he can easily find work." Sammie goes back to smiling, "And I'm a Valkyrie. I'll stick around as a protector. No way the elders are going to turn that offer down."

"Strongest warriors in village are the Braves." Jackson agrees, "Sammie stronger than all of them combined."

"Uh." I make a noise of acknowledgement, feeling the weight of the impending disaster crashing upon the oblivious duo. The village has a transmission station, meaning its most likely on the Yellow Rose's maps. Then you have a Valkyrie not affiliated with the Citadel openly operating in the area.

Both of them, to put it very bluntly, are most likely going to be well and truly screwed.

"Jasvinder," Sammie pipes up, "how about you? You're welcome to stick around if you want. I mean, we're already pretty cool with each other."

"Nah. Thanks for the offer though." I demur, "My plan is to get far, far away from the Citadel. Wouldn't want to involve you in my problems. I'll join the next caravan that shows up."

"Mm. If you say so." Sammie frowns, "Don't go running off too soon though. We just met after all."

"Jackson, you used to work at Loveless right?" I ask the wolf man, trying to shift the focus of the conversation.

"Yes?" a guarded tone enters Jackson's voice, "How did you know?"

"I visit Madam now and then." I say, "I'm her brother in law."

Jackson swallows hard and speaks in a rush, "You married Thomas? Please don't tell him or Madam about me and Sammie. Ran away without Madam knowing."

"You know Thomas?" I reply, somewhat curious.

"Thomas friends with everyone." Jackson answers, "Sometimes comes to Loveless to hang out with us. Not so often after he got married though."

"I suppose that I'm the one responsible for his absence." I laugh self-deprecatingly as both truck and jeep enter the village through the open gate. Jackson parks the jeep beside the truck in the middle of the village square as a crowd of onlookers led by a bent old wolf woman begins to gather around us.

The bandit leader, Lena, jumps out of the truck and immediately walks towards the old woman. Jackson quickly exits the jeep and follows suit, with Sammie and myself following close behind. The old woman, dressed in garishly painted animal skins and wearing jewelry mounted with heavy, if rather cheap stones, nods patiently as Lena speaks to her at a rapid fire pace.

"Elder." Jackson greets respectfully, but before he can speak any further, Lena interrupts.

"As I was saying," Lena utters gruffly, "we were saved by a wandering Auxilia. This man here. We would not have survived the Fallen attack without his help."

"Thank you." the elder bows deeply to me, "Our Braves owe you their lives."

"It was my duty." I answer modestly, "I could not let anyone be murdered by rampaging Fallen."

"I hope we did not cause too much trouble for you." the elder intones in a sonorous voice, "We are a poor people with little to give."

"My bulwark was damaged." I say, realizing the elder needs a graceful way of repaying me within the village's means, "I require to pray in order to restore it."

The elder draws herself to her full height and addresses me, "Then you shall have such an opportunity. One of the villagers will guide you to our transmission station. Use it as you wish."

"I am grateful." I bow deeply in return, completing the dance.

"Shall we complete this discussion inside?" the elder addresses Lena, no longer paying any attention to me. At the same time, a wolf woman takes my arm and gestures towards the building bearing Iros's statue. Realizing I am no longer wanted, I follow my guide in silence.

.....

The transmitter's console is in front of me, awaiting my input. The village had no operator, and the guide informed me that any replies to the prayer I made would need to be decrypted by myself. The transmitter's console had also been modified to allow a lay person to use it. In addition to the regular operator mode all consoles had, this one had been installed with a heavily simplified interface custom made for transmissions to Iros.

As an Operative, Sheryl had been trained on how to use a transmitter, but she is now barring me from accessing her knowledge. Meaning that the only divine I can reasonably contact is Iros. Just as well. Iros is the safest divine to pray to if you don't have an operator available. Once my guide leaves the station, I press the 'enter' key as instructed by the system and it automatically begins making the connection to Iros's divine realm. Soon enough, a new instruction pops up on the console's screen.

RECORD PRAYER NOW. PRESS ENTER WHEN DONE.

I bring up the microphone and begin mouthing the standard form recharge prayer into the system. A quick press of the 'enter' key and the transmitter fires off my prayer to Iros.

RECEIVING REPLY. EXECUTING ASSISTED DECRYPTOR.

That's fast. Iros is prompt in responding, if nothing else. The screen fills up with runic alphabet which seem to squirm and shift about the moment I attempt to focus on them. I turn my eyes away and let the console do its work. The guide had explained that the assisted decryptor worked by firstly limiting the range of responses Iros could give to the system. Any response outside of this range would be immediately junked, and the prayer would be regarded as failed. Secondly, once the response had fallen into an appropriate category, the system would produce a set decryption key in the form of a simple math question for the user. Answering that question would suffice to unlock Iros's response.

While this custom mode made using the transmitter incredibly easy, there were also several drawbacks. Most obviously, the limited range of responses recognized by the system prevented any form of complex prayer from being made. It also required a very tolerant and obliging divine to play along. No wonder this mode never took off in the Citadel. Iros's sisters would see this setup as an affront to them. A beep from the console interrupts my musing and tells me that the decryption key had been prepared.

1 +1 = ?

I take a deep breath and punch in the answer. Here hoping my mind can take the strain of receiving the touch of a divine.

The screen bursts into a nova of light and my head snaps backwards as a powerful migraine rips through it. I try to turn away, but its as if my eyes had been glued to the console screen. The light mercilessly bombards me and I feel something forcing itself deep into me. The whole world begins to spin as the light narrows into a sharp narrow point, lancing me straight through the eye.

And everything goes dark.