The Cadaver Crasher

Mess hall

Akamori and Amara sat at a bench between meal rotations. The Sgt. had given them some spare time following the mage fight with Sala. Naturally, Akamori felt filling the time by filling his belly was the best use of it. Amara just sat next to him for the company’s sake as she nibbled at a bit of dried cake served up for chow. He’d insisted she come along, the weight of his thoughts wearing down on him. He nibbled at a sweet roll, trying to manage his thoughts into something cohesive.

“Akamori, you’ve been picking at that roll for a few minutes now. What’s on your mind?”

He opened his mouth to speak and felt crushed by the sheer volume of thoughts. What should come first? What was most important? Where to start? His mental train of confusion fell off the rails when she nudged him.

“Don’t make it so complicated. Just pick something and go.”

He pursed his lips and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I feel like I’m betraying my people.”

“What people?”

“Hoshun. The air mages?” He said, feeling a little confused by the question.

“Akamori, they’re gone. All that remains are you and I. Anyhow, why do you feel you’re betraying them?”

“My improvement and progress here. It feels like it’s turning my back on them.”

She nodded with a smile.

“What?”

“Nothing, I can just recall a time and a conversation where you were feeling so stuck with your life. Plagued by wanderlust. And now that you’ve been able to get your dream of traveling the stars and living a life of your own free of your father’s expectations? Here you are feeling guilty about it. I think he’d appreciate that, but insist you forge ahead.”

“I’d hardly call this my dream. And you remember my father differently than I do.”

She shrugged. “Well, he wasn’t my father, but I saw the extreme pride he always viewed you with. I think, above all, he wanted you to grow and become your own man. He would have been happy to see you carry on the clan’s traditions. Since that’s no longer possible? I believe it would please him to see you making the most for yourself.”

Something tightened at the base of his throat, and tears rimmed his eyes, threatening to spill down his cheeks. He didn’t realize just how badly he needed to hear that. Kalenza had always been supportive of him, regardless of his choices and accomplishments. So her words didn’t feel like platitudes or hollow praise. More like an insight.

“What else is bothering you?”

“Sala,” he said flatly.

“Yeah. I don’t know where to start with that. Perhaps he’s just rationalizing being beaten back as you being a dragon or something.” She shrugged, looking as defeated on that front as he felt. “Give him time. A guy in his circumstance, I don’t think pushing him will help.”

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That stung a little. Sala had been helpful to them when they first joined the team, even in his own standoffish way. Akamori never felt like the primal would have become so antagonistic to him. He turned to Amara and saw her with a thoughtful expression.

“What is it?”

“I wasn’t sure how to bring this up honestly, and I wasn’t sure I was even going to, but when you’d asked to talk so urgently, I figured I might as well.”

“Okay?”

“During your fight with Sala, when it looked like he was about to beat you, something happened. During the time, you mentally blacked out. There’s a gold seal on your soul. I wasn’t able to see what its purpose was initially, but the enchantments on it were deeply intricate. Above 7th level spells and probably beyond ritual capabilities. If I had to guess? I’d say it’s probably somewhere in the neighborhood of divine. The amount of power needed to place it on you would have been immense. But then, I think that’s why you bear it.”

“Why?”

“During your fight, I saw the seal, I don’t know? Crack? And when it did, something happened to you. You moved and fought entirely differently. Power spilled out of you like a dam had burst.” Amara shuddered visibly.

He frowned, only able to recall flashes of what happened. But it felt like he’d been watching from a distance. In his mind's eye, he could visibly see the cracked doorway and the light spilling in. The light that spilled into him.

She nudged him out of his mind. “You were gone again, somewhere else.”

“Sorry,” he shook his head to clear his thoughts. “I was trying to remember the tail end of the fight.”

“And?”

“Nothing. Just bits of things that make little sense. Like I was watching it happen from far away.”

He watched her as she nodded slowly. Now she was distant and lost in some thought, but she turned back to him, her dark almond eye fixing on him intently. “I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I’m still not sure.”

“Think my father and mother were aware of it?”

“If they were, they mentioned nothing to the air priests.”

He wasn’t a fan of secrets, and the idea his parents were keeping one from him didn’t sit well with him. For now, he assumed they were unaware. He sighed heavily, setting the roll down on his tray. “I miss them. My parents. My people. Our world. If it weren’t for the fact the Sauridius destroyed everything, I’d probably just run.”

Amara nodded. “At least with the Federation, we can prevent it from happening to anyone else.”

That drew a choked laugh from him. “Maybe. This federation is an absolute mess. They turn prisoners of survivors and conscript them to fight their war and then wonder why amidst all their casual racism why no one truly believes in what they’re doing. I don’t know if I could stay shackled to that kind of fate. It sounds like everything is just dying in slow motion and we’re just waiting for it all to catch up.”

Amara frowned. “True. It isn’t without fault and is far from ideal. But it’s the best hope the sector has at the moment.”

A moment later, a glowing orb of fire appeared in front of Akamori’s face, pulsing with urgency. He blinked at it curiously. “It’s a messenger spell. They use them a lot in the Federation,” Amara explained. She tapped it, and the orb rolled open like a scroll. It resolved into a fiery portrait of the Captain. Her stern features always rankled Akamori.

“Private. Congratulations are in order, I hear.”

“uh, thanks, sir.”

“We’ll be opening an exit portal to enter Forge space soon. I would like you to accompany me.”

His face contorted with confusion. “Me? Why? uh, Sir.”

“It wasn’t a request, Private. It was an order. You’ll find a dress uniform prepared for you already. Be at the airlock in twenty minutes. Morwen out.”

The fire spell dissolved into motes of fire energy that all winked out, only a few embers stubbornly trying to cling to life as they too extinguished in a small flutter of wind he didn’t feel. He turned to Amara with a ‘what now?’ look.

“Don’t look at me. She asked for you.” Amara said, standing up and stretching out. He slid off the table reluctantly. This felt like another trick. He just wasn’t sure how or what. He marched back to his rack, silently trying to puzzle out what Morwen’s game was. He threw on the uniform and squeezed his wrist to check the spell armor bracelet was there underneath. He turned to Amara with a sweeping gesture.

“How does it look?”

“Like they made it for you,” she said casually. She gave him an approving smile and thumbs up.

“Right. I’m off. If I come back a drooling wreck, it was her fault, and I knew it was coming.”

Amara rolled her eye as he turned to leave.