‘Gin.’
Hm?
Gin’s head throbbed as he clambered out of bed. A stream of bile rose up against his throat only for him to force his non-existent breakfast down again. The dream he just had would cause anyone, sane or otherwise, to throw up. After all, it was a dream about…it was…what happened was that…what was his latest dream about? Gin didn’t know. He went through the motions of knowing he dreamt without remembering what he dreamt about. Not that he tried his best to do so.
‘Let’s see what I have today,’ he checked the clock in his room then his guidebook. ‘Ok, looks like more practical work every day at seven. then battle stations next week. But since I have another hour or so, let me first…’
He sat himself down at the desk and picked up a quill and paper. He jotted a few things down, from his predicament to trying to solve “the curious case of the mouse” Artemis puzzled him on. He thought back to the dream when it came up to other instances where the Xernim1XernimA parasitical entity that sometimes benefits its host-user kept being her cryptic self. Though, try as he might, he couldn’t come up with any links yet.
In the end, he decided to jot simple ideas down. However, before he could put pen to paper, he heard a loud rumbling from outside. His brows crumpled up as he stared at his room’s door. The noise grew louder and louder until unfamiliar voices chittered their way through his room. Gin checked the clock then back at the door. Then he checked the clock once more. All of a sudden, Gin’s eyes widened. He sprung up from his chair and rushed out.
‘How is it seven already?!’ he cursed his lack of awareness. ‘Dammit!’
As gin rushed to his room and towards the elevators, he noticed the increase in squadron O members roaming around. He needed to meander his way through mages who carried boxes, containers and a myriad of other utilities up and down the corridors. He also spotted types of mages he only caught glimpses of during his stay but never came touching distance to. For example, as he waited for his lift, he saw a peculiar type of mage with a puffed-out chest, bloated neck, a straightened back that you could make right angles on, and talked with a few of the residents. Called utility mimicry types, one could guess their purpose from the name alone. However, Gin was yet to see them in action. Not that he could go up and ask for a demonstration because of his tardiness.
‘Come on,’ Gin muttered to himself. He waited and waited and waited but the elevators wouldn’t come. He glanced to the left and then to the right. Everyone around him slowed down bit by bit until nothing moved except for the chattering of their lips that combined into incoherent gibberish. ‘Is this the dream all along?’
Just then the elevator door opened to reveal no space whatsoever. No one came out nor could anyone enter. Gin’s eyes danced around, looking for an opening to enter. But when he couldn’t find any, he let the doors shut before power walking towards the stairs.
He skipped two, three, no, four steps at a time, ducking and weaving past the mages and crashing down on every floor, sprinting towards the next flight. He forced himself to go faster, his heartbeat quickened and sweat formed from his brows until –
‘Urk!’ Gin lurched back, his shoulder caught on something at the bottom of some steps.
‘Where do you think you’re going in such a hurry?’ a familiar voice stopped him.
Gin turned back to see a man he had not seen in a long while. Despite that, he got ready to dash yet again. However, not before saying, ‘I’m in a bit of a hurry, Brim, sorry I can’t catch up!’
‘What’s the rush? It’s joint training today,’ Brim met his friend with a smile. ‘Let’s go together since we haven’t spoken in ages.’
‘Eh? What time does it start?’ Gin’s face crumpled.
‘Seven,’ Brim gave an immediate, confident reply.
‘I was right then. We’re late.’
This time, it was Brim’s turn to have a crumpled face as he pressed his hand against the wall. Roots twisted and rotated into a circular shape. Two more twigs, one larger than the other, prodded out and bent into lines that ran parallel to the wall until they stopped at a certain position.
‘See? It’s only quarter past six,’ Brim showcased the clock he made.
‘Oh.’
Gin rubbed his eyes then looked at the clock again. Just as Brim stated, the small hand pointed just past six and the big hand pointed right at the three. He let out a deep breath and regained his composure.
‘Heh. You got flustered for no reason,’ Brim mocked. ‘Misread your own clock, eh?’
‘First of all, that’s my phrase,’ Gin retorted. ‘Secondly, in my defence, I was sleepy and wasn’t concentrating. Third, better early than late. Even so, I swear it said seven back in my room.’
‘The clocks are automated by the tree itself. No chance of it being faulty,’ Brim grinned at the ever-defeated Gin.
‘Ugh. Ok, fine. No need to rub it in. Shall we get going?’
Brim nodded. The clock disintegrated into a brown gloop that got absorbed by the tree as he let go. The pair then carried down the steps at a faster-than-normal pace before turning into a full-on race to the bottom. With a graceful leap, Brim hit the bottom while Gin almost tumbled down the final set of stairs.
‘Should I add this to our little tally?’ the fire elemental smirked.
‘Only sparring does!’ Gin protested. ‘I’m still ahead of you in that for your information.’
‘By one win!’ Brim stood proud, almost tempted to add the race to his score regardless. ‘You’re just lucky we haven’t had the time to fight lately.’
‘Heh. Just so that I can be two wins ahead?’ Gin caught his breath and composed himself before leading the way outside.
‘We’ll see about –’
Just as they stepped outside, a juggernaut mage waited for them, hand raised in salute and chest puffed out high. Gin glanced over to Brim who kept a straightened stance and returned the salute in kind.
‘Stand down,’ he commanded.
‘Yes, sir,’ the mage lowered his hand. ‘Request to seek your assistance on a matter regarding your battalion.’
‘Permission granted.’
Brim nodded at Gin before following his cohort. He pointed a single finger behind his back, saying a simple “I’ll be back. Give me a single moment,” which the manush understood straight away.
In all honesty, Gin couldn’t get used to that level of formality. However, the more he mulled over it, the more it made so much more sense for that to be the case. Though he wasn’t looking forward to his battalion acting the same way to him in an hour.
He shook his head at the thought and began staring at the land ahead of him. The sun had just about risen. Only a few mages awoke at this hour. The sky kept itself clean of clouds while the rest of the land stayed barren bar the sporadic placement of flower buds across the sandy planes. His head throbbed at the sight. It reminded him of the night he met Artemis, surrounded by sleep-inducing plants.
‘Ugh,’ Gin covered his forehead. No sign of a temperature. ‘I need some rest.’
Just then, his body froze. He heard the sands shifting. The noise got closer with each passing second. Gin’s heart leapt while his lungs stopped breathing. He could feel vines in his gauntlet etching ever closer to his INS despite not giving a mental order. Stop, he barked to himself but the xernim wouldn’t listen.
‘Leader?’ a sharp sickle slit Gin’s throat, letting him breathe once more.
‘Oh, it’s you, Sam,’ Gin didn’t show any weakness as he turned around. ‘Ah, you too, Syndra.’
Syndra let out the faintest of smiles. ‘I’m not surprised by your early arrival, Gin.’
‘Thank you for the compliment. Not surprised about yourself either,’ Gin let out a reciprocated nod. ‘How is your training going?’
At that, Syndra’s faint smile turned into a grin (by her standards). ‘I’m glad you asked that. I have improved greatly over the last few weeks. In fact, my running time has reduced dramatically, my stamina and upper body strength has risen by leaps and bounds and I have been perfecting my boxing techniques every single day. While I won’t say I’ve mastered what you’ve taught me, I feel competent, to say the least!’
‘That’s actually quite brilliant,’ Gin allowed himself to be carried away by her enthusiasm, the tension in his body dissipating second by second.
‘I agree. As such, I wish to run a few questions with you, if that’s alright of course.’
Gin raised a brow, ‘Sure. Go ahead.’
‘Thank you. First of all, since we haven’t seen each other in a while, should I carry on with my training or move on to other targets? For example, practice for if I were to face dilemmas on a more frequent basis.’
‘Ah. I think I know what you’re heading with this,’ Gin’s gritted his teeth, hoping he could be proved wrong. ‘I believe you should carry on with your current training. Not because I doubt your ability. It’s something you need to carry on doing, even if they sound mundane. Even I hone the very basics regularly. However –’
‘Oh,’ Syndra cut him off. Her body deflated somewhat. Did she hear Gin continuing or not? He couldn’t tell. ‘Next question. Do you think I am capable enough to be alongside you in, let’s say, partnered or group exercises?’
Gin blinked several times. What? He didn’t understand what she meant nor how to answer. In the end, he went for a safe, ‘If we were in a fight, I reckon I won’t need to watch my back as much if you were covering it. But –’
‘If that’s the case, I wish to cut to the chase,’ she cut off again. ‘I have a certain…request before it’s too late.’
Gin stayed silent as Syndra took a deep breath. She looked around, her hands fidgeting without her knowing. Behind them, Gin could see the various battalions lining themselves up. Sam orchestrated Gin’s one. Meanwhile, a little further away, they could see Brim coming towards them after sorting out his own.
‘Apologies, Mr Gale,’ Syndra turned back. ‘I wish to ask another time if that’s possible.’
‘I see. Then, take care,’ Gin shook his head in surprise. Eh?
‘Thank you once again.’
At that, she left. Not a word more. She jogged a little, her steps lacking springiness and a fist clenched the entire time, as she brushed past Brim. The fire elemental looked back then right at Gin with a perplexed expression.
‘What just happened?’ Brim jogged himself to ask as soon as possible.
‘Uh, Brim, not going to lie, but I think she’s up to something,’ Gin grimaced.
‘What? Syndra is?’
‘Mhm. She explained how her training was going, whether I thought she was capable, and then asked if she could do something different. She wanted to ask me something but stopped herself when she saw you.’
‘Oh?’ Brim stopped, pausing to think about the words before his eyes widened, ‘Oh!’
‘I’m not dumb enough to not notice these things. Reckon she’s going to ask for a transfer to a separate battalion?’
Without warning, Brim jumped and grabbed hold of Gin’s shoulders. Through gritted teeth, he uttered the loudest whisper possible, ‘Not. Ready.’
‘Brim?’
‘She is not ready,’ Brim’s grip loosened as he composed himself. ‘Sorry, I understand how hard she’s worked. Jake told me everything she’s been doing while I’m busy. But even then, she is not ready for such a position if she ever asks for it. Her emotions will get to her and she’ll be frozen. Stuck. I guarantee that. It doesn’t matter how skilled of a fighter you are if you’re going to be a statue in front of an attacker. You can’t accept her request.’
‘I understand,’ Gin took a step back, his nerves on edge at how un-Brim-like his friend acted.
‘Promise me.’
‘I promise,’ Gin’s eyes glanced towards the jogging Syndra. As he did so, he noticed a clenched fist. His eyes widened. His heart sank. Don’t tell me she heard all that.
‘Good. She’s a little predictable so I can tell what’s going to happen,’ Brim let out a sigh before whispering under his breath. ‘To be honest, I just never want you or me to see her like that again.’
‘By “that,” you’re talking about the incident with granite?’
‘Ah, looks like it’s time. Our battalions are in position. Shall we go?’ Brim looked away. Gin approached him but he began walking, matching Gin’s speed even if he quickened his step.
I should not have said anything, Gin cursed himself. He rubbed his head in frustration. The uneasiness from earlier came back. A combination of a churning stomach, a tightness around his throat and a throbbing in his head almost brought him to his knees. However, he just kept going, not realising that Brim split off from him a while ago.
Before he knew it, he found himself a few steps away from his battalion. Their attention all fixated on him, their arms raised to their forehead and all in square formations. At the front stood Sam who orchestrated the whole thing.
Gin almost choked at the sight, a stranglehold on his neck getting tight. Yet, a switch flipped. All worries got pushed to the back of his mind while it went into autopilot. He managed to keep a straight posture and order, ‘Stand down.’
A flurry of hands fell.
‘Sam, report,’ he constructed short, concise demands.
‘Yes. We’re all ready. Leader Gargarensis,’ Sam stopped to catch a breath, ‘will be here soon.’
‘Understood. Everyone in formation 5b.’
Gin’s battalion moved in a silent block of five by two. He glanced through the ranks to count every single one. A simple bit of arithmetic later, he came to the conclusion that everyone was present, some more anxious than others. Even they couldn’t get used to this level of formality with their leader, Gin noted. At the very least, I shouldn’t show any signs.
‘Formation 20e. We’ll wait for further instructions.’
‘Yes, sir!’
The battalion stood in several twenty-by-five rectangles with Gin and Sam as the outliers at the very front. They all waited as the sun rose up, providing some warmth on an otherwise chilly morning. To their south, several boats sailed in one by one, dropping anchors at the docks and growing slopes from the deck to desert land.
A hatch opened. Gargarensis, Astral and their squadron marched down in utmost synchronisation. In fact, if you focused on one spot, it appeared as a perfect loop of motion until the very last, feathery pair of legs went past. Wait, Gin realised. Why is Aqmi copying them?
The hapless bird mimicked the others to perfection (before it spotted Gin, that is). At once, it sprung up and flew towards its owner. With controlled aplomb, it landed on Gin’s shoulder. It let out a small squawk and then snuggled beside him.
‘Not now Aqmi,’ Gin whispered, though the bird didn’t listen.
Gin shook his head while maintaining his stance. His battalion remained quiet too as they chose to ignore the minor ordeal, much to their leader’s relief. He didn’t want to tell people off for the smallest of distractions and, in all honesty, Aqmi’s presence settled a few nerves.
‘Attention!’ Astral barked as he swivelled to face the battalion. A clacking of stone ankle braces smacked against each other in unison. Everyone straightened their backs and focused right in front of them.
‘At ease,’ Gargarensis followed. The stances relaxed but not too much. The piercing glare of the commander made sure of that. Even Aqmi stood up straight on Gin’s shoulder, its wings tucked in.
‘Good,’ Astral continued. ‘We will now commence the next stage of your training. All of you will man a vessel where you, the battalion, are the vast majority of the crew. It shall span the next week or so. The commander will now give you the details.’
‘Thank you,’ Gargarensis stepped up as Astral stepped back, ‘We will have you carry out your duties as usual for a period of time in the beginning. However, unlike in week two with the forced scenarios, we will soon pivot to a more realistic scenario, which you will find out later.’
Why the secrecy? Gin wondered. Maybe it’s to do with what Brim talked about earlier.
‘There will be an exception to your tasks, though,’ Gargarensis paused, his aura growing in size, almost suffocating Gin as if it was directed right at the manush. ‘As you know already, the host of a ship is its very core. If he or she is killed, so does the vessel. For this exercise, we wish to emulate that level of threat without endangering them in the process. This requires a substitute.’
‘Sam!’ Astral ordered.
Gin almost jumped out of his skin. He felt a tightness around his arms but kept composed as the petite messenger stepped forward. Maybe I can’t get used to Astral acting like this, he let the feeling slide.
‘In place of the core, we shall allocate that role to the main messenger of your battalion. If the “core” is “killed,” so is your mission. That won’t mean the actual core is safe but at least they won’t be targeted. I will attend your journey but will not take part in any of the activities. Is everything clear?’
‘Yes, sir!’ Gin and his battalion responded.
‘That is all.’
‘Attention. Salute,’ Astral took over as everyone obeyed orders. ‘This exercise will separate the guppies from the Krakens as we will start immediately. Stand down and follow in formation.’
‘Yes, sir!’ everyone reiterated.
A throbbing kept Gin on his toes as he and his battalion marched towards the boats. A substitute for the core? Someone might be “killed”? Brim’s words earlier…Gin came to only one conclusion. We’re going to battle, aren’t we?
