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3. The Raven: Merry and Screwed-Up

3. The Raven: Merry and Screwed-Up

"Intoxicated" existed as a word dear to Vadeen's heart. For him, it meant surrendering completely to violence and rabid carnal desires to the nth degree. After a night at KaicēTyū, he never ceased to feel a different sort of inebriation, one that felt the opposite of the traditional meaning. It felt like that of blissful satiation, of having wretched yearnings quelled in a deep, almost sensual way.

Yet, he left the slum with the same tic in his mind's deepest recesses reminding him of his inevitable return. He would be back to consume again.

At the moment, however, he found himself basking in an afterglow of satisfaction, his head bobbing to the hard beat of drums mixed with growls, hisses, and spurious thumps. The amiable feeling of his comrades encompassing him and the cool alcohol suffusing his system mixed to create an atmosphere that further quelled the resonances of voracious, vicious desire until it ceased to be even an echo in his psyche.

The song came to a crescendo. All else seemingly went silent while the drums carried out their heart-pounding pulsations. With his eyes closed, he let the music guide his head in a windmilling motion to the beat. The hypnotic movement brought a smile to his face, and he knew most of his companions were performing the same motions, whether they were sitting or standing.

The last drumbeat signified the end of the song, and he stopped moving his head the moment it did. He opened his eyes with a wide smile to the sound of whoops and cheers around him while several messy strands of hair fell into his face. In the blood orange light from the many fires, he could see the musicians and drummers further away from where he sat in the bracket grounds. He raised a flat white cup of alcohol towards them before taking a drink.

The shrieking sound of fireworks overhead brought his ocher eyes to the sky. Exhaling, he smiled, running a hand through loose reddish locks. His ponytail had come out, but he didn't have the mind to care.

The myriad of lights in the heavens reflected in his eyes. He felt wonderful, relaxed, and more than willing to return to work the next day.

His drink barely made it back to his mouth when someone all but pounced on his back. A poke at them with his senses indicated it was his older brother. "Abramu!" he hissed with a grin as some of the alcohol spilled over.

His brother laughed, rubbing their heads together and mixing long brown hair with reddish locks. "Bini-Akhali'eli[1], Diditō[2]!"

"Bini-Akhali'eli, Daginī[3]," he replied, chuckling despite himself. He gave Abramu a one-armed embrace, then immediately shoved him away. "You owe me a drink."

"Very well." Abramu flicked a long ponytail from his shoulder, giving Vadeen a sheepish smile. He then walked past their large festival table to a tall, elaborate drawer-like piece of furniture with two small doors instead of handles. The interior hummed softly as he opened the lower door, revealing many white and dark-colored jugs inside that were kept cold. "What do you want?"

Vadeen began to open his mouth when something heavy rested on and then ruffled his hair. "You shouldn't drink so much, Deen."

The smile wiped right off his face, and he smacked the hand away to glare at his eldest brother.

Chuckling, Lanad moved to sit beside him. Both he and Vadeen only wore sarashi and their uniform pants, and he carried a small platter with an intricate silver pot and several empty white cups atop it. "Want more?" he asked, motioning to it.

"Make up your damn mind." Vadeen beckoned for another cup in spite of his words.

A cheeky smile flashed at him. Lanad placed the platter in front of them and began to pour a few cups' worth of what smelt like behra alcohol. "Have you eaten anything?"

"Not since before the session."

Downing a cup, he nodded, turning his head from the direction of the woods around them. "I'll get some curry, then." He placed the cup on the platter before standing. "What do you want?"

"Vindaloo."

"Alright. You, Abramu?"

"I'll have some paratha and korma...whatever." Abramu helped himself to a cup as well, amber eyes looking to the sky.

Vadeen followed his brother's gaze, watching the fireworks explode overhead with a smile. He felt himself drifting...

Someone suddenly held up his free hand, and he looked over to see his Lanad place a steaming bowl of red curry in it. Oohing, he took it in both hands and deeply inhaled the aroma of spices and lamb. "That was fast, Nī!"

Beside him, Abramu shook his head at his reaction, taking his own bowl from Lanad. "You drifted off. You're going to have grown horns by tomorrow."

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Already digging into the food, Vadeen scoffed. He hadn't drunk that much. At least, he thought so.

He let the voices of his family and friends meld into pleasant white noise around him along with the steady beats of music. Quietly, he continued eating while his head bobbed to the drums and vocals.

After some time, amid indiscernible noises, he made out the sound of a familiar croaking. Cracking an eye open, he caught sight of something dark land on the tree above him with aid from the light of the fireworks. It croaked again.

He grunted softly at it. Another croak among the voices. It spoke to him, discernible and clear. Even while tipsy, he knew he wasn't dreaming it.

"You're tired."

"Yeah," he sighed. He lowered his bowl atop the table, licked his fingers, and then leaned back, letting his eye close again.

"Wuan?"

With a start, he blinked himself back to consciousness.

To his surprise, he lay supine on the grass. His bowl of half-eaten food had been covered as it rested atop the table, and the musicians had disappeared along with his friends and brothers.

Confused, he saw most of his comrades were no longer at the table but watching the fireworks some distance from him. He then looked up into the amused emerald-green eyes belonging to his mother. Wearing her silver, multicolored captain's coat over her sarashi, she crouched beside him with a hand on his leg and had apparently shaken him awake.

"You alright?" she asked.

Disoriented and drowsier than he thought he'd be, he stared at her in a stupor for a good moment. "Yeah," he finally responded, shaking his head. He rubbed his forehead with a groan. "Drunk, I guess."

She made a smug chuckle, prompting him to turn a good-humored glare on her. She shrugged with a knowing grin, then moved her hand away and beckoned to the group further from them. "Still have enough in you to watch the fireworks?"

He scoffed, closing tired eyes. "No."

She snorted, ruffling his hair. "You seem sober enough."

He grunted at this, but he didn't bother going through the effort of stopping her. When he opened his eyes, she gently flicked at one of his locks with a soft expression.

The moment didn't last as she grabbed his face, engulfing it with her large hand, and all but threw him back to the ground.

"OI!" he barked, grasping his head, and he watched her long coat brush against the grass behind her.

"Don't think I'll let you sleep in, boy," she called back, a grin in her voice as she walked away. "It's called The Festival That 'Doesn't Exist' for a reason."

He blinked, then let himself fall back onto the grass with a loud groan. "Oh, come ON!"

Her loud laughter mixed with the booming of the fireworks overhead, and he moved his hand from his face to look at the bright colors exploding in the dark sky with a large grin.

Amid the darkness and contrasting lights, he made out the form of his raven circling in the sky above him. Both sights brought a sighing smile to his lips, and he closed his eyes as an air current brushed against his face.

On that same wind, a bird's croak echoed in his ears, bringing forth the image of a monstrous black bird in his mind.

"Welcome to the Akhali'eli[4], Vadeen."

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Nightly Jonjae-Bū festivities were no excuse for an officer of the Malaki Raja'shun to awaken late and groggy the next morning. Having been groomed since early adolescence to ignore several mental conditions, afflictions, and physical ailments, Vadeen awoke early and ready for the new year without a sign of his intoxication from the night before.

After washing for the day, he dressed into each article of his spring uniform with meticulous grace, the motions so normal he could have executed them with his eyes closed. The last of the articles he donned included his arm and knee armor, and finally his ruby sash around his waist. Tanzanite and silver tassels dangled from the sash, indicating his rank as a second lieutenant.

He fixed his red gorget and connected mask, lowering the red cloth-like material so it covered a beaded necklace, and he adjusted his freshly dyed hair to keep it within his uniform hood while keeping most of his reddish locks loose. He hooked his katana onto his sash, then glanced at the mirror on the far side of the room while tucking his sword into the cloth for extra security.

Once finished, he placed a communicator in his ear while exiting his room. It led into a hall within the 22nd Bracket's barracks. The few soldiers who saw him nodded as they passed, and he returned the gesture. The high windows in front of him were too tall for him to see out of but judging from the lack of light entering and the need for lanterns, early morning still lingered.

With a small smile of contentment, he left his barracks, walking through wide, lightly decorated mahogany halls and passing comrades. Only a few others traveled in the opposite direction. Breakfast sounded good right now.

He had to leave the immediate barracks' halls and travel outside into the concourses of the bracket grounds to near and then enter the 22nd Bracket's dining hall. His smile widened from the smells of pleasant food in the air from its direction.

He paused. Something about the scent in the air came across as...smokey.

The sudden blaring of an alarm nearly made him jump, then his eyes widened in shock while the blood drained from his face.

Terrorist attack...!

He flew out of the building the way he came. Familiar with procedures, he immediately shouted into his mic, "22nd Unit 5, report to—!"

"Units 1 - 5 to the 21st Bunkal[5]!" their lieutenant Hayoi's voice boomed over the loudspeaker. "It's on fire!"

His eyes went wide. Terrorists attacked a bunkal...? How...? As he raced through the ornate walls and outdoor corridors of his bracket, he decided to reserve his thoughts on how such a thing could be possible.

Once outside, he spotted his unit members running towards the route of their sister bracket. He moved swiftly to lead them, and only once they were several measures from their own court did he notice and strongly discern the black smoke emitting from the 21st Bracket's direction.

"Wuan!"

His steps slowed. "Sebuan[6]?" he said, placing a finger over the communicator in his ear.

"Belay those orders! Lead your unit to intercept the indrahti escaping the scene at Kakuraēra!"

"Understood!" He spun around and barked at several of his unit members behind him, "To Kakuraēra!"

They shouted their affirmative, and he sped out of the bracket with them close behind.

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[1] "Happy New Year".

[2] Little/younger brother.

[3] Big/older brother.

[4] New Year.

[5] Bracket.

[6] Captain.