Chapter 11
Captain Yang
It feels good to wake up the next morning. For the first time in days, I’m refreshed.
Unfortunately all too soon that feeling disappears. Before I can even shave, I receive a knock at my door and curt orders to meet with Garl.
I dress as quickly as I can, then I hurry out my door with my helmet tucked firmly under my left arm.
As I race through the corridors, I notice there are more guards present than usual. They are always easy to spot – while soldiers wear the gold and yellow of combat, the guards of the city wear imperial blue. Generals and other men in power often wear jet black, and the Queen and Royal Family are the only ones allowed to wear purple.
That has been the way for countless years, and will no doubt continue for centuries.
For this Kingdom will continue for years and years to come. She will never fall.
Not even the Carcas will be enough to drag her down. Though the threat they represent is a fearsome one, I’ve always been confident the Royal Army can overcome it.
As soon as I think that, a niggling thought interrupts me. At once I am reminded of Yin’s words. She accused me and the rest of the army of warmongering. She accused us of fighting the wrong war.
What could she mean?
What other war is there to fight?
Before I can think that over, I enter the General’s office. It is a spacious, regal affair. There are paintings of the Royal Family adorning the walls, and swords lined up above the mantelpiece.
He turns to me as I enter, and lowers his head in a curt bow. I, however, bend double and offer him the traditional salute of the Royal Army.
As I raise my head, it’s in time to see a confused look cross his features.
I have known Garl for years. In fact, he knew my father, and I remember Garl from when I was a child. He’s always been a stalwart man. The kind of bustling, powerful soldier the Royal Army is founded upon.
Well, right now he looks less than sure of himself. Somehow, the man appears rattled.
I do not need to read his emotions to see that; his mere presence reveals his state of mind completely.
“Sir?” I ask hesitantly.
“Sit down, Yang,” Garl says as he sweeps a hand toward one of the large, ornate recliners behind his desk.
Silently I comply.
It takes Garl a long time to sit, though. At first, he stares out the window behind his desk, his expression unreadable. Finally, however, he walks slowly up to his chair and sits.
Without a word, I watch him.
Could this be about Yin? Did she break out of her room last night? Did she find some way of overcoming the enchantments to summon magic?
Though it should be impossible, in all honesty, it wouldn’t surprise me. She overcame my sleeping spell, after all. I saw the burning will she used to fight my soldiers. Woman or not, she is most definitely a force to be reckoned with.
“Captain, there has been a development you should be made aware of,” Garl says.
The hair along my arms and the back of my neck stand on end as a chill wave of nerves passes through me.
It takes a moment, but with a breath I control myself. “What is it, General?”
“Tell me, son, do you believe in the old legends?” Garl suddenly asks as he leans back in his chair, fixes his hands before him, and stares my way.
I blink, unsure what he’s asking. “I am a man of tradition,” I decide to answer.
“Just as your father was. But what I am asking is about more than tradition. Do you believe the legends of our people?” Garl asks.
“Which legends, sir?”
“Of sages and saints, of warriors and guardians,” Garl says in a low, respectful tone.
It takes me a moment, then I understand. “You mean the legend of the Savior?”
Garl nods once.
As he does, he looks wholly serious.
Though I’m a man of tradition, there are some traditions even I have outgrown. The legend of the Savior is one of them.
Once every age, one person – usually a woman – is chosen to summon Gaea, the spirit of the earth to fight alongside them on the final day.
The Savior, according to the story, is always a warrior of incredible skill, endowed with the singularly unique ability to summon Gaea, who in turn controls all the spirits of the land.
.…
It is a myth. A story conjured long ago in the minds of men too simple to understand forces greater than themselves.
Though I am a sorcerer, I’m also a man of science. I understand the device over my wrist is just that – a device. It belongs to an extinct race far more technologically advanced than our own.
There is no such thing as Gaea or a Savior – they are legends created by people too simple to understand Arak technology.
Yet as Garl looks at me, I would be a fool not to note how serious his expression has grown.
“You can be honest with me, Yang. Do you believe in the legend?”
I press my lips together, but can’t stop my jaw from twitching. His question is leading, and I realize he is after a specific response. I just don’t know what it is.
I decide to go with honesty. “No, General, it is a story.”
“I thought you said you were a man of tradition?” he subtly reprimands.
“Some traditions die,” I answer carefully.
“This one does not. Son, what I am about to tell you, I do so only because you are one of my most trusted men. I need you to help me with what comes next.”
I sit there, and I stare at Garl.
I want to believe he is playing with me, and this is merely jest. But I can’t – I can read his emotions, and know they are just as real as they seem.
“The Savior exists,” Garl says.
I blink. It’s all I can do.
The Savior exists? A warrior who will summon Gaea on the final day of the age, and fight to hold back the Night?
It’s a fantastic tale, but, at the end of the day, a tale. Yet a man I trust more than most is sitting here telling me it’s true.
For the second time in two days, I start to lose hold of my emotions. I start to react.
I can feel a fire burn somewhere deep in my soul.
Just as I do, I rein in control.
I sit in the chair, and I wait to hear what the General has to say.
“There are few who still believe in the legend, but that does not mean it is not true. The Royal Family has not forgotten, and nor have the record keepers that hold our Kingdom’s most important scrolls.”
I sit there, and I wait.
I wait for the General to make sense. To defend his statement. I need more than a simple story about record keepers.
.…
Or do I?
He is my general, and I am obligated to follow his orders. So if Garl tells me there is a Savior, then I have no reason not to believe him.
.…
As I think that, I think of Castor Barr. I remember, in exact detail, how he threatened me. How he leaned forward, the sleeping Yin hooked in his arm, and he warned me that he would break me. I remember the look in his eyes and the certainty in his tone.
The unpleasant memory sends a light sweat picking up across my top lip.
I ignore it, and I wait.
Soon the General continues, “the time will shortly be upon us. Soon the final year of the age will arrive.”
Though I am content to listen to the General, now I clear my throat. “I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but I thought there was no way to tell when the age would end? The time of the ages does not align with our own calendars, or so the legend goes.”
I watch the General very carefully as I challenge him.
He nods. As he does, I swear he looks embattled, and that is a wholly odd emotion for a man like Garl.
Men like Garl are the backbone of this nation. They are the strength upon which we all lean. My father taught me that lesson and would not let m
e forget it.
“You are correct, but only partly. The Royal record keepers have found a way to estimate the time we have left,” Garl breathes heavily.
As he says “the time we have left,” I shiver. It’s a cold, quick, tight move, and I hide it by leaning forward and brushing a hand down my leg.
“Sir?” I prompt when he dwindles into silence.
“The record keepers have informed us we may have a month or we may have a year. But the time will shortly be upon us,” Garl continues.
I sit there in quiet surprise. How else can I react to this?
A man I have known nearly all my life and who has always been a pillar of strength is now sitting before me telling me the equivalent of a ghost story.
Out of loyalty, however, I stifle my natural reaction and keep an open mind.
“It is now more important than ever that we train the Savior, keep her safe, and shepherd her to the final day,” Garl now says, breathing heavily through his words, locking his hand on his chin, and letting the fingers dig hard into his sallow skin.
Her?
A rush of feeling escapes through me. Tingles and prickles and nerves. They rush up and down my spine, blooming through my stomach like hot water melting ice.
He couldn’t mean Yin, could he? Is that what this is all about? Is that what explains her sheer power? Could she really be the Savior of legend?
It’s ridiculous to consider, and yet I can’t push the thought away, and the more it stays locked in my mind, the more it melts through my control.
“Though I have kept this secret along with a few other trusted men, I must now bring you in on it,” Garl continues, letting his hand drop from his jaw and rest listlessly on his desk. He stares at me with a keen but still haunted gaze. I can’t deny how undone he appears. Either he’s an extremely good actor, and I’m only now learning the depths of his abilities, or the man is truly serious.
“General,” I stutter, unsure of what to say. “How… I…” I trail off.
I feel cold and hot all at once.
In all my years, I’ve never faced news like this. Though I still want to dismiss it, I find it almost impossible to do. All I can remember is that moment when Yin woke up in the cart. She went from being completely asleep and completely locked in by my spell, to bursting forward like a ball from a cannon. In fact, with little effort, I can conjure her exact expression, the exact angle of her lips, the exact look in her eyes. Perhaps I’ll even be able to remember it the day I die; it’s deeply etched into my mind.
“I wish to bring you in on this sacred task. I know I can rely on your calm, directed power. Plus, she trusts you. It is important that she trusts you.”
If I was surprised before, it’s nothing to what I feel now.
Yin trusts me? The last time I saw her, she looked as though she wanted to boil the blood from my veins. If that is her trusting someone, I shudder to think of what she does when she doesn’t like them.
“Are you… sure?” I question the General.
“She has always trusted you. You know this. She treats you as a close confidant and considers you one of her truest friends,” the General informs me with a nod.
.…
“I only just met her, sir. Before yesterday, I didn’t know she existed,” I point out quietly.
The General shakes his head. “What are you talking about, Yang? This is serious. Princess Mara trusts you. This situation requires we surround her with people she can trust. People that can protect her in the task that awaits. We are gathering the most powerful warriors from the corners of our kingdom. They will be at her side, ready to protect her no matter what.”
.…
Princess Mara. The Queen’s own daughter. Softly spoken, gentle, and well loved by her people. I’ve known her for years, and in that time, my affections for her have only grown. In that time, I’ve also seen her power grow. She is easily one of the most talented sorcerers I’ve ever met. If anyone were to be the Savior, in a way, it makes sense that it’s her.
.…
Yet, confusion now sweeps through me. For a few moments, I was so sure he was talking about Yin. Something in my gut told me that made sense.
Now I find myself trying to shake free of that sense, but it’s hard.
“I realize it may take more than my simple words to convince you,” Garl says as he gently pushes himself up and walks toward the window. There he pauses with a hand on the glass as he directs his head up toward the palace on the horizon. It always glistens, regardless of whether there’s any sun to shine upon it. The gold that plates the pillars and roofs and walls is engraved with so many magical enchantments that they burn in even the darkest nights. It’s the home of the Royal Family, after all, and they deserve the greatest protection of the land.
But if what Garl is telling me is true, then they will require more than gold walls with spells engraved across them. If the Princess really is the Savior, then nobody will be able to protect her on the final day. Only she will be able to summon Gaea, and only she will be able to fight alongside the spirit of the earth as they protect all of humanity from the Night.
She will have to be trained. As completely as can be. Far more rigorously than any soldier.
As the enormity of what Garl is suggesting finally strikes me, all thoughts of Yin drift from my mind.
While she has a great deal of power, and briefly it made sense to believe she could be the Savior, she is nowhere near as competent as Princess Mara.
“The Princess has requested that you help train her,” Garl admits to me.
I can’t help but blink rapidly. Me? While my father ensured I am a competent warrior, I’m not in the Princess’ league.
“She wants you at her side.”
I nod.
“I realize you may still have your misgivings. Finding out what you once thought was a myth is reality is not easy for anyone to deal with. So I give you leave for the rest of the day to visit the record keepers, and they will show you the sacred scrolls. Once you have read them, I am confident you will believe as I do.”
I nod again.
When I woke up this morning, for a brief moment I had the feeling that my life would be different. I thought, however, that the reason behind that difference would be a certain boisterous village girl. I could not have predicted this, however.
But suddenly something clicks into place. “That’s why you had me retrieve Castor Barr,” I suddenly say as I lean forward in my chair excitedly.
The General nods. “He is one of the finest soldiers to have served in the Royal Army. He will be an invaluable asset in training the Princess. And after my discussion with him this morning, he has agreed to help her.”
“. . . He has?” I ask carefully.
The last time I saw Castor, he threatened to rip my throat out and break me if I went anywhere near Yin. I believed, at that point, he would find any way to break free. But now I hear he’s agreed to train the Princess, and from the General’s easy tone, it doesn’t seem as if negotiating with Castor was difficult.
“Castor Barr is undoubtedly one of the greatest warriors we have at our disposal, and we are honored that he has agreed to help,” the General continues.
I sit there and press my lips closed, swallowing whatever words threaten to escape.
The man the General is describing is not the man I sat with on that long and bumpy cart ride.
But it’s hardly my place to share those misgivings with the General. Still, I can’t push away my curiosity completely.
That’s always been the way with me. Despite the fact I’ve learned how to close my emotions off, and push my soul far out of reach, there is one force I can’t control. One force that reminds me on the coldest nights that I’m still human.
My curiosity. My need to know more.
So, unable to control it, I stand. “What of his niece?” I ask directly.
Garl looks momentarily confused. “His niece?”
“Yin, the woman that was brou
ght in with him. His apprentice, the sorcerer,” I add with a certain kick to my voice.
“She’s nothing,” Garl says without a pause. “We will see if she can be trained, and if she can’t, she will be dealt with.”
My eyebrows descend low over my eyes. “And Castor Barr is happy with this?”
“Castor knows his duty. Now he understands the import of this situation, he is committed to training the Princess, just as any good soldier would be. He is willing to sacrifice everything to save her so that she can sacrifice everything to save us all.”
The General’s speech is compelling, and if I didn’t have direct experience of Castor and Yin, I would believe it. But as it is, I can’t.
I’ve seen the way Castor looks at me, and I’ve seen the way he protects Yin. I could not imagine a man like that walking away from someone he considered his own child.
“I see,” I say carefully. “But who will train her? I know from experience that she is…” I press my lips together briefly, “boisterous.”
“One of the trainers,” Garl says dismissively. “Now, I suggest you neaten yourself up and go to the palace. The record keepers are waiting for you. And once you are done with them, you will go and attend to the Princess.”
I salute. As I do, I feel a twinge of nerves track down my back.
Could this be real? By this afternoon, could I actually be a guardian of the Savior?
It seems too fantastic to believe, but then again, it doesn’t appear as if the General is lying.
I will simply have to find out.
As I salute and leave, I try to focus on what I have to do next. Yet I can’t completely dismiss my curiosity. It’s not directed at the Savior, but at Yin.
Though I can easily conclude that she’s one of the most tiresome people I’ve ever met, a part of me is sorry I won’t be the one to train her. For a part of me, as wild as it sounds, almost enjoyed facing off against her fire.
There was something… almost invigorating about standing next to her and not being burned.
But with a sigh, I realize it’s time to push those thoughts away and look toward the future. For the future has just changed completely.