45
(Joji- MODUS)
Adam
For such a lively performance with rambunctious people, the manor was oddly quiet. Captain Zev and I sat at the biggest table in the mess hall, still hunched over it. We were playing a strategy board game we often played when there was downtime. Zik, or the Triali word for conquer and win, began by the players creating the battlefield out of wooden hexagons painted green and blue, one side land, the other water. There were variations of land and obstacles, drawn from a bag at random when constructing the battlefield. Each player had a base piece that set where their units would be created and have to defend. They could be placed anywhere next to another piece, so there was some strategy involved in building my side of the battlefield and sabotaging his side, but he could steal by placing his base where I was setting up. Every turn, players collected a coin to spend on units to conquer the opponent’s base, and defeating a unit gave half the coins of the unit’s cost. Killing units depended on a twelve-sided dice roll, needing to hit certain numbers based on the unit. Melee units could only attack when taking an enemy space, and ranged units couldn’t move if they attacked. One versus one was straightforward, but in groups, each base conquered allowed the player to create units at the new base. Each base conquered was another base the opponents had to conquer, so games could go on for a really long time or snowball extremely quickly. Being a dozen drinks deep made Zik a lot harder, though. Captain Zev was across from me, an island of drunken depression in his own right.
“The day truly is not the same when there are no quarrels in the arena.” Captain Zev groaned. “I thought I would be more anxious, and yet there are no words to describe this unfulfilled boredom.”
I moved a piece forward, amassing my army on the border of our islands linked by only one hexagon. “Why’d you refuse to go to the performance, then? Don’t get me wrong, I love this game, but listening to a concert is also a great time.”
Captain Zev threw me a quick judgemental glare, then glanced at the door muffling the distant music. “Adam, if you want to attend the performance, I will not stand in your way. I simply wish not to listen to it myself.” He spent five tokens and placed an artillerist in the territory I was preparing to siege. “Why do you care for music?”
“It… it’s enjoyable to listen to.” I moved my four 1-coin infantrymen forward to attack him.
“And that is your opinion, no? You think fondly of music because it is in fond memories.” He eliminated one unit with his artillerist and moved his three heavy frontline units to meet mine.
“You don’t have good memories of music? You never heard a song you liked?” I attacked two of his units and rolled. Two kills.
He lightly hit the table at my unlikely success. “Of all the odds!” He sighed. “I do not have fond memories of the war songs. You haven’t seen war, Adam. The people of this continent use music to communicate orders. Indecipherable and constantly changing. Sharp melodies calling artillerists to rain energy like shooting stars on my comrades and beats dictating every step and stab of a blade are not fond memories to me. War songs pervade long after war. You hear them in everything. Calling you back to your duty. It’s inescapable.” He attacked with his soldier and artillerist. Both of the rolls were misses. He slapped the table and cursed both of the twelve sided dice under his breath.
“Maybe if you just listen a little at a time, you’ll get used to it and you’ll stop associating the two things?” I moved one unit forward and attacked his soldier. Kill.
Captain Zev grunted. He moved his artillerist back and spent two tokens to create a shield unit at his base. “Play.” He took a swig of ale.
“I’m not trying to be a jerk, but you’re really missing out on it.” I moved one soldier forward and attacked a defender with my other soldier. Miss.
“You will see war one day.” He killed one of my soldiers with his artillerist.
“What’s there to see?” I attacked his defender again. Miss.
Captain Zev’s face became cold and apathetic. His voice unwavering and monotone. “You will be bathed in the blood of your brothers as the crescendo rises and the enemies continue an unrelenting assault. Each instrument, each progression, a different face, a different killing blow. You will see the faces of your enemies, gouging your comrades to tunes your mother would hum to you. And those tunes curse them with their own memories, begging and crying for their mothers, returning them to those sorry states, crying for you to help them while you slash a man’s throat open, but he keeps swinging, so you slash again, but his body doesn’t stop even as his head lurches backwards, so you cut off his arm, but he steps forward, so thrust your blade into his leg, but he falls into you, and you must push him away before you drown in his blood amidst the discordant orchestra.” He launched an attack from his artillerist at my soldier. Kill. He advanced his defender. “You will understand once you have experienced it.”
“Why would I be sent away? Isn’t this part of Triala stable?” The cycle restarted, and he began sieging me while I prepared defenses.
“There will be a time where you leave this manor. Jinian are naturally powerful, Adam. The Trialis will not give you peace until you are dead on a battlefield. Serving House Amien is how I have escaped returning. They have not been able to wrest me from serving my Lady. But you will go further than I did. You’re becoming a more confident warrior. You’re learning to lead. You know your soldiers. You have a good eye for strategy, too. That blasted mountain you placed in the middle of the isthmus still infuriates me.”
“What about you, Captain Zev?”
“What about me?”
“You say that as if you don’t. What’s stopping you from going further?”
“So long as the Amien house stands, I will guard it. I owe Lady Simira a great debt.”
“Do you?”
Captain Zev hesitated moving his pieces for a moment processing my question on a delay.
I continued. “You were taken and trained all those years ago. After all you’ve done, you’ve definitely paid it back.”
There was a strange longing in Captain Zev’s eyes as he gazed over the wooden battlefield. He sighed and resumed moving his pieces, dodging the question. “Lord Tarynn has said the same thing. He has not seen a true battle, but he has said he wishes to experience it. I tell him not to, and he asks me to guide him to becoming a proper fighter.” He paused for a moment. “His sister is heir to the house, and he wants nothing to do with politics. And yet he will shortly be given away as a token of political favor. I suppose in his eyes, war is preferable to a life he never wanted.”
“I don’t blame him. Takes a lot of bravery to give up your life for service.”
“Bravery. Tell me, Adam. Is a man brave for seeking his own destiny, or is he a coward running from his duty?”
I thought for a long second. “I don’t know, Captain Zev. Everything I did that seemed great was me being scared of dying. No such thing as fate or destiny. Just choice and chance.” I sat still, flipping a token between my fingers. “I’ve only ever searched for a direction. I was always taught to just keep moving forward. To take everything a day at a time and try to do a little better each day.”
“No goals, positions you want?”
“I don’t know. I have no clue where my life is going.”
Captain Zev sat back in his chair. “Given unrestricted possibilities but realistic limitations, what is the first thing you would do?”
“I’d take my friends and leave here. Then we’d start fresh, like we wanted to.”
He looked a little offended as I said that. “You would abandon your life here? After everything you owe to House Amien?”
I couldn’t hold back my disgust at the thought of owing any of the Amiens anything. “What do I owe to House Amien?”
“They pulled you out of squalor, provided you a place to live, money to eat, training for combat. They have protected us through and through. We owe them everything in return.”
“Captain, there are only two people in this manor that I owe anything to. Tells and you. I never wanted to come here, and I never wanted to be a guard. We were taken because my friend got on Lady Simira’s bad side. I have great respect for you and everything you have taught me, but had Lady Simira not taken us, I never would have thought of doing this.”
He leaned forward to give me a drunken lecture. “Lady Simira gave you an opportunity, and you have grown because of it. This house has given you direction. It has given you order. You owe this house for everything it has given you.”
“Does a river rizumir owe its captors for clipping its wings so it could become a better fighter?”
He remained silent, clenching his fist around a soldier figurine.
“Does Vetia owe Lady Simira for becoming a more experienced healer? For the cell she was given and the collar around her neck?”
Captain Zev slammed his fist on the table and shot up. “Do not speak in such metaphors as to smear the name of House Amien! You know Lady Simira is not to blame for what happened.”
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
I sat still and calm. “Do you think they died worrying about a debt they owe to the Amiens, or the lives they could have had if they had never been taken?”
“If she could not see what spurred her growth and offer gratitude, then she was misguided and foolish to begin with.”
“Captain, I learned recently that I may have maybe twenty years left in my life. At most. I’ve been alive longer than I have left, and I can’t live repaying people for things I never asked for. She never even got a chance to learn that.”
All fight fizzled from Captain Zev’s eyes and he gazed down at the game pieces scattered by his fists. He reached for his mug of ale, only to realize it was empty and sat in defeat.
“If your debts mean so little to you, then why not just run off on your own? Why care about owing anyone at all?”
“I owe Tells for a lot. I suppose that’s what happens when you’ve known someone your whole life. I owe you because you took my bad situation and made it a little better.”
“I did nothing aside from my job as captain of the guard.”
“You brought me out of the armory to fight that one day. You trained me and gave me a chance to fight. You’re the only one here who doesn’t treat me like a trophy.”
Captain Zev shook his head. “Adam, don’t think so highly of me.”
“What?”
“I had no grander ambitions for bringing you into the guard. Lady Simira put you there, so I did what I do. I treat you as I do because I was where you are. I’m simply repeating those who have taught me what I know, except I am not as wise nor am I as insightful as they were… are.”
“Captain, I’ve never asked, but why do you serve Lady Simira?”
Zev leaned back in his chair, stretching and then resetting. “When we had returned to the manor after our time at war, the squadron and myself were sitting around a bonfire celebrating their return, their victories, and their fallen comrades. I was still an outsider, but she gave me a seat.” A smile crept onto his face for the briefest moment as he relived that memory. “Somebody asked what she would do when she was Viscount. She spoke for hours, even after the fire had died, every problem she knew the solutions to, every small adjustment she would make, new ideas she wanted to test. Her view is methodical, scientific… built to make the best for her people. She has an end, and she is still carving the means to it, but I realized in that moment that I would never be great. Not truly. I pledged myself not for her position, nor for a promise. I believe she is right, Adam, that the world will be better because of her. I am her soldier, dull of mind and sharp in blade, and I am content in that.”
“You’re more wise and insightful than most of the people I’ve met.”
Captain Zev paused and fingered at a wooden swordsman figurine. “Is a man wise if his wisdom can only be shown with a blade in his hand? Is a man insightful for simply repeating what his teachers told him? Can a man ever become more than a soldier if he is not at peace in peace?”
“I-”
He put up his hand to stop me. “No need to respond, Adam. I believe I have had too much to drink. Thank you for being good company. Good night.” He quietly stood and left the mess hall, contemplative and distant the whole way out.
I sat still in the lonely mess hall. Muffled music gently wafted through the cracks in the manor, drawing everyone closer like a siren. The alcohol brought my legs clumsily bounding toward the epicenter, the theater hall. Brenden and Desmond had to be near the end of their set when I entered the melancholy room. The dimly lit hall was like a dive bar at last call. Servants and off duty guards smoked and drank in lonesome while Desmond sang Johnny Cash’s version of “Hurt.” Everyone was too tired to dance and too drunk to resist the lull of sleep. It was hardly late, too, but every table was solemn and woeful while the lyrics reminded them of their unfulfilling lives.
I spotted Tells at a table near the back, head on her hand, wistfully gazing up at the stage. I quietly crossed the room until I reached the table. She pushed some loose strands of dark brown hair behind her neck and turned her almost glowing violet eyes up to me.
“Sup?” I said as awkwardly as physically possible.
“Hey.” She was staring at me now, that same melancholy look about her.
“I need to talk to you.”
“Okay.”
I sat down across the table from her and folded my hands. “I didn’t mean to say what I said back there. I’m sorry, I just didn’t know what to say at all.”
“Yeah. I know.” She stared down at the table. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, either. It’s been a long time since I lost control of myself like that.”
“No. I deserved it for what I said. I’m not good at saying how I feel when I’m sober.”
“You’re doing it right now.” She picked at a crusty used fork with a rag left on the table.
“Twelve drinks later.”
“At least you can get drunk. Raw-dogging life all the time fucking sucks.” Tells slowly stabbed the prongs of the fork into the table until it was standing on its own.
“We’ll find a way to get you drunk, just trust in your delinquent friends.”
Tells just poked at the fork handle, not saying anything.
“You good, Tells?”
She glanced up finally, and then back down at the table. “Yeah.”
“You sure?”
She paused and looked me in the eyes again. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“So if you’re good, then why aren’t you up dancing and enjoying the music?”
“Not my vibe, I guess.”
“Your friends are up there playing their hearts out, and it’s not your vibe?”
“How am I supposed to vibe with this shit. It’s depressing.”
Just then, the song ended and Desmond cleared his throat. “Just letting you know, we’ve got one more song to end the night off. Find yourself somebody to dance with. You don’t wanna end the night alone.”
The crowd of people around the hall exchanged looks, words, glances and touches until about half of the people in the hall had stood up, ready to dance. Like everyone said “fuck it, it’s better than being lonely alone.” Guys who couldn’t find partners threw arms around each other’s shoulders in lines and prepared to sway in front of the stage together. Tells and I both stared at each other awkwardly.
I spoke up. “Are we supposed to dance together?”
“Are we?” She flicked the fork over and it clattered on the table.
I held out my hand cordially and pretended to tip a fedora, making my voice sound a little grosser. “I’ll gift a tier 3 sub for a dance, m’lady. Please, I donate every one of my paychecks to your bathtub streams.”
She finally chuckled, catching the bit. “That’s it? My live streaming is way harder than your 9-5 and worth more than your apartment. You can give me your rent and then maybe I’ll read your donation.”
Suddenly, a very proper accented voice broke in. “Is that Adam from the arena? How lucky I am! If you don’t have a dance partner, would you mind having me?” Stepping forward and grabbing my hand was a woman with golden horns, a blonde bob with bangs that obscured her eyes, and silvery make-up. Her touch guided me upwards as her chest pressed against my side. She had on a tight velvety golden dress with a shawl to match, and she shook her head up at me playfully while my brain began collapsing in on itself.
“Um, uh, I, I mean-” I was looking between her and Tells rapidly, unsure of what to do.
“Oh, dear, did I interrupt something? I didn’t mean to get between your dance.” She looked back and forth between me and Tells. “Is he yours?”
Tells clenched her jaw slightly. “I don’t think he’s yours.”
“Then don’t let me get in the way.” The woman chuckled and pulled Tells up from her seat, pushing her into my arms as the music started.
We stood like stone pillars in front of each other for a moment until the music began. We were alone and out of sight at the back of the hall. I noticed the woman leaning in the doorway of the hall, watching us, so I put my hands around Tells’ waist and started slowly shifting. She put her hands on my shoulders and the most rigid, awkward rocking back and forth began.
I furrowed my brow. “Does this song sound familiar to you?”
Tells took a moment to listen as Brenden played the piano to a tune we’d both heard many times. It was calming and intimate, but with a familiar brightness. The woman in the doorway burst out laughing, then quickly stepped out of sight.
Suddenly, Desmond started his singing. “We’re no strangers to love…”
“I’m gonna kill myself,” Tells whispered, starting to chuckle.
“I’m gonna kill them.” I tried hard to resist, but Tells’ chuckling only made it harder and I broke out in a quiet laugh.
“Stop laughing, bro. It-” She stifled her own laugh. “It’s not even funny.”
“I know-” I snorted a little, causing Tells to laugh harder. “You started it.”
Then her inner dolphin finally broke free, and she was barely able to stand without me holding her up.
“Since when do you laugh like that? Shut up, pe- people are gonna think we’re weird if they hear us laughing back here.” I was fighting just to say that sentence with a half-straight face.
“I c- I can’t-” She buried her face in my chest to muffle the laughter. After a solid thirty seconds of just her laughing, she pulled her face free and took a deep breath. By now, dancing, which had been so foreign to both of us, was like second nature. We swayed with the music, in the dark, at the back of the hall. It was the happiest I had ever felt.
“Yo, Adam?” Her violet eyes met mine.
“Yeah? You done laughing?”
She chuckled. “No, I’m losing my fucking mind, dude. But when we get out of here, when we figure ourselves out in this world, after we’ve made a bunch of money and done a bunch of shit, let’s build a castle.”
“A castle?” A snicker escaped me.
“I ain’t kidding, man! A big fuckin’ castle or cathedral or wizard tower or something would be dope! Stained glass, stone bricks, big doors, like that one I made on the Minecraft server.” She patted my chest like she was trying to hype me up.
“No, I agree. I just wasn’t expecting that. You want to build a castle?”
“On the floating islands. I wanna make a flying castle. That’d be badass.”
“Well, what kind of castle? Stone keep? Concentric? Motte-and-Bailey? Or maybe a sandcastle or a bouncy castle?”
Tells squinted. “Why the hell do you know every breed of castle?”
“How do you breed a castle?”
“I dunno. You can breed the castle however you want after we build it. I just want a fuckin’ castle, man.”
“Deal.”
We continued our awkward sway, but it became more synched, in rhythm. The song went on and we gently swayed like leaves on a branch holding on for dear life in the autumn breeze.
What do I say? Should I say anything? What would she want to hear?
“This isn’t the end. We’ve still got a whole world out there, and Rowan wouldn’t want us to give up, alive or not.”
Her face fell again. “Do you think Rowan died that day we all woke up in this world?”
That’s kind of a stupid question.
“We all did.”
She sighed. “Clearly you didn’t.”
“I would still be on Earth, Tells.”
“Yeah, no shit.” She bit her lip as if… conflicted? Confused? “Do I seem different from how I used to be?”
“Did you forget that you’re a chick?” I couldn’t help chuckling a little. “Don’t get me wrong, I keep forgetting that I’m not human anymore, but it’s-”
She shook her head, sounding a little pissed. “Know what? Never mind. Stupid question.”
Must be irritated that she’s been asking dumb questions.
In an instant, she backed off and quickly exited before I could say anything else and I was left standing there, behind the applause of the crowd, shocked, wondering what I did wrong.