Book of Kayal: Strength of Unity Read online

  “Do you like my new tune?” Thalia’s big blue eyes glowed as they fell on Ganis.

  “It worries me that you spend your time thinking of ridiculous tunes instead of training. Perhaps it would be wise for me not to rely on you too much.”

  Laughing merrily, Thalia responded, “What a funny thing to say from someone so keen on spending her time avoiding people. It seems, dear Ganis, that both of us share the same concern.”

  It was not the first time the two met, but it was the first time they were alone, free to converse about whatever subject they chose.

  “I guarantee that my fighting skills will prove quite the improvement to this Ona.”

  “Care to put this to a test?” Thalia smiled, reaching to tuck her tunic into the leather pants she wore.

  Smiling at her comrade’s challenge, Ganis held her fists up. Thalia struck first, but her blows were all averted by Ganis’ quicker hands. Kicks and punches were exchanged without hesitation from both fighters, and it only escalated in speed and severity the longer they fought.

  As they punched, kicked and dodged, the two challengers slowly moved towards the middle of the deck, where lighting offered better sight. Stirred by the commotion, other crewmen started surfacing, watching the fight and cheering.

  Spectators started placing bets. Pertinax and the others, watching with everyone else, did not interfere. Naturally, Ganis held back to hide her true nature, purposefully restricting her abilities for the sake of secrecy.

  Although pushing her natural ability to the limit, Ganis was incapable of turning the tides of the brawl to her favor. Thalia, however, was not so restrained. She had the advantage.

  Eventually, Thalia managed to pin her opponent to the ground. “You’re the second strongest person I ever fought.”

  “Who was the first?” Ganis tried to maneuver herself to freedom with little success.

  “Sigurd.” Thalia stood and helped Ganis up.

  Barely swallowing her pride, Ganis confessed, “It appears that you’re a better fighter than I.”

  Thalia snorted. “As if there was any doubt. I shall make a song about our brawl?”

  Ganis’ eyes gleamed with frustration. “Perhaps we should test this with real weapons. It would certainly make for a better song.”

  She raised her finger dismissively, saying, “No need to be a sore loser. You would not like to be remembered as such by the bards.”

  “At least don’t use my name,” Ganis responded. “I have to say, your skill with your fists is only exceeded by that with your voice.” She dusted herself, not that there was any dust aboard the Siren’s Tear – a feat the Sennan sailors took great pride in.

  “A lifetime of hardship and irony shapes people as such, I’m certain. Yet the origin of my skills remains a mystery even to me. If you ever come across anyone who knew me before Partha, please do inquire about my past.”

  “Inquire about your past?”

  “My first memory is of a play I acted in twenty seasons ago. Apparently, no one knew who I was or where I had come from. The only certain fact I know about myself is that I am not Parthan.” She took a deep breath. “I have to say I’m fairly bothered by my shrouded past?”

  “Being bothered by a shrouded past is far better than being bothered by a mysterious future, I say.”

  Thalia smiled. “I’m glad we finally got the chance to speak. Have you spoken to the others yet?”

  “All save for one, the bird talking fellow.” Ganis had seen Monolos and exchanged a few pleasantries, but it never went any further than mere pleasantries.

  Thalia burst in laughter. “Good luck. Now that’s a perfect example of a shrouded past and mysterious future. Even after you talk, his words will be shrouded in a cloud of misunderstanding and confusion.”

  “Does he not speak the common tongue?”

  “He does. But if you put the words he speaks together, they’ll start sounding foreign,” Thalia answered, barely controlling her laughter.

  Ganis realized a crowd of spectators that had amassed for the brawl no longer found them interesting and started to return to their duties. When the sound of boots scraping on wood finally dissipated, Ganis noticed Commodore Habitus observing them from a distance at the helm, guiding the ship through the calm ocean waters while doing so.

  Caught by how the waves made by the Siren’s Tear as she sailed captivated Ganis, Thalia said, “Ever since the Behemoths’ defeat, the waters have been unnaturally calm. I find this both inspiring and unsettling.” She left Ganis to her thoughts, retiring to her quarters as the others did.

  Ganis nodded, meaning to signal a ‘good night’.

  It was not long till Thalia disappeared into the lower decks, and Ganis was left alone to ponder. Reflecting on her speech with the artist, Ganis realized that her attempts to make herself scarce during feeding time raised much suspicion with her comrades. She knew that her identity could not be kept secret for long, and her quest would make her spend a long time with the others. What shall I do? she thought.

  4

  The next day Ganis caught the familiar scent of the Parthans brushed by a southern gust. Encumbered by Pertinax’s corpse, Ganis and Eirene moved slowly towards the others.

  ‘Learn from the mistakes of others because some mistakes you only get to do them once’ were master’s last words to me. I hate you so much, but with each passing day your wisdom makes my hate fade away. Ganis thought as she trailed the Parthans.

  “They stopped moving,” Ganis said.

  “We should rush regardless.” Eirene looked at Ganis, her eyes as void as death and smile withered. “I swear to you and to Pax that I will have my vengeance.”

  “And I swear to lend you my strength,” Ganis responded. Pax, though, I ignore.

  Although Ganis, on many occasions, had belittled the Parthans’ deity, the gesture was appreciated by Eirene. She smiled at Ganis - an empty smile.

  The two groups found one another, each heading towards the other made the reunion quick.

  “By Pax!” Hephaestion said. “You are unharmed.” He rushed towards them.

  “Do not touch me!” Ganis pushed him away, still carrying the weight of Pertinax’s corpse. “I may be a fiend, but even I never abandon my allies. I’m not a member of this Ona. I’m not one with you, but I still leave no man behind. That's my code - a hard-learnt code. Pertinax could have been saved!”

  “That is the Parthan way. We value the lives of the many over the few,” Hephaestion said.

  “What if it was you? Would you not want others to come and save you?”

  “Not if it would risk endangering your life. Would you want us to risk our lives for yours, even if we would all risk perishing in the attempt?”

  “I would never want anyone to risk their lives for me, but I would never hold back if any one of you were in danger.”

  “Tell me, Ganis, is it so selfish of us to abide by Pertinax’s desire to sacrifice himself for us? Is it so wrong that he died knowing that the bargain he struck bought us our lives? Pertinax died a hero, a death we all envy.”

  “Your logic makes your living heart colder than my unbeating heart.” She looked at Eirene, still addressing Hephaestion’s comment, and said. “If this is the way of Pax, then to hell with Pax and his misled followers. If this is the way of the Empire, then to hell with this meaningless coalition.”

  Eirene did not respond. Grief took its toll.

  “I understand that you have sacrificed much as a Peacekeeper. Back then you knew what it meant to be responsible for others. You willingly sent your men to die as a meaningless diversion to a clearly lost cause. You abandoned them when they needed you most and avoided the risk of rescuing them. I know the sins of your past, fallen commander. It is a soldier’s role to be sacrificed for the good of the mission. We are all expendable pawns.”

  Ganis’ voice softened, her eyes averted, “And that’s why I know it was wrong. I now have an eternity to dwell on my actions and grief for those whom I cond
emned.” She chuckled sarcastically. “The Dark Gift is my eternal curse.”

  “Your efforts were noble,” Eirene said, returning to her serene self and soothing voice, a forced gesture that would never carry as much weight as the natural one.

  Looking back at her, she smiled and gently rested Pertinax’s corpse on the ground. Ganis then reached into Pertinax’s leather armor and grabbed a necklace he wore. It bore two flat steel plates with ‘Pertinax the Second, Red Ona I: Captain’ engraved on them. Each member of the Ona had a similar necklace with their name and Ona etched on it.

  While she plucked away the carved steel plates, Ganis said, “There is no need to leave one with the corpse as long as we are here. For this journey we return with both plates for every fallen member of this Ona.” Ganis then handed the amulet to Eirene, the designated carrier.

  With poorly concealed wet eyes, Thalia started digging as she chanted, “You never got a chance to hear the song I wrote for you.” She started singing:

  Pertinax the shrewd, the leader of our group

  He woke up a day, with a single hair astray

  And spent the rest depressed

  Or rather much distressed

  And ever since that day

  He roamed a different way

  To overly stress his looks

  The song was never meant for his burial, but it was his song. Each of the Parthans had their own way of mourning, and they were all accepted.

  Pertinax was buried with all his possessions, except for the maps and oboi he carried. He was gone, but he left one last command unfulfilled, to seek the beacon.

  5

  The long march towards the beacon was grimed with the events of Pertinax’s death. The Parthan tradition dictated that once Pertinax’s corpse was prepared for the journey to the afterlife, and the crossing of the Paxian River, they were to continue with their mission.

  Ganis broke the weary silence by asking, “What about Hearthdale?”

  “Their secrecy cost us the life of our best. They cannot be trusted,” Hephaestion responded bitterly.

  “Yet they had no hand in it.”

  “Sometimes secrets kill. If we knew about the attack, Pertinax would most likely still be with us.”

  “Eirene!” Ganis looked at the priestess. “Do you support this?”

  “My thoughts are irrelevant,” responded Eirene. “We live and die.” She paused for a moment, swallowing, and continued, “We live and die by the way of the Ona.”

  “I agree with Ganis. We should seek amends with Hearthdale. I still remember the words of Eos and his offer,” Sigurd said. The Turian, Ganis noticed, would only share his thought if he doubted anyone else would reach the same conclusion. He was a man of few yet impactful words.

  Our wills are becoming one. It would make little difference if you sought the Highborn now or later, but perhaps the People of the Hearth would not be there later. I lend you my powers in hopes that you will lend me yours, Eos projected to Ganis.

  “I think we should return to Hearthdale and aid them. With the events of loss still fresh in their minds, now would be a good time to convince them of our worth as allies. We might never have another opportunity as such,” Ganis said. Eos’ advice did indeed ring true.

  “Hearthdale is in our past, and I intend it to stay as such. The people of Hearthdale are no longer of consequence to us,” Hephaestion said. Pertinax’s death had changed him.

  Ganis had nothing else to add and remained silent as she followed Hephaestion towards the mysterious ancient beacon. She could not convince the Parthans of the value Hearthdale had in their fight.

  Hephaestion’s drive was not only cause by Pertinax’s last order, but also by his conviction that the beacon held answers - yet he did not know answers to what.

  A few hours after the silent crew journeyed towards their objective, Eos decided that it was time for him to shed some light about Hearthdale’s assailants. These were no random attackers. I was not able to identify them completely because we have not yet learnt to fight as one. As my weight still feels strange to your grasping hands, your touch feels foreign to me.

  After a moment of silence, Eos continued, From what I could sense, the ones we encountered earlier – the ones who claimed Pertinax’s life – were zealots.

  Damn it, Eos, Ganis thought. I cannot help you with all the secrets you keep.

  Eos answered, Those were the flock of the clerics from Initium Keep to the north. They are not warriors, nor are they soldiers. They are fanatics that follow their religious leaders regardless of the reasoning behind their actions. Although they are not your enemy, their leaders are. Be careful when facing them. Faith is a formidable weapon to wield.

  And how can we show them the truth? Ganis waited for an answer, but received none. Some questions even the ageless blade could not answer.

  Eos, it appeared, was not all-knowing. Ganis started questioning how good of an ally he would be, thoughts she could not hide from Eos.

  Silence seemed fitting as the Parthans marched towards the beacon.

  The loss of Pertinax was a tragedy, both to the Parthans and to Ganis.

  6

  All creatures require sustenance to survive, and Ganis chose to act on this knowledge. As the others rested, she disappeared in the night with the intention of felling a helpless prey.

  Her careless sneaking allowed the three pups to follow her discretely. Their once-clumsy movements had improved a great deal from when they were first rescued, and they grew to be large and quite strong. Ganis ignored them and continued her hunt.

  Hunting was pleasant. It made her forget the grim matters looming upon her. Slowly trotting in silent footsteps, she scanned her surroundings in search for game. Round red fruits ready for plucking decorated some trees around her. She grabbed as many as she could for the others to indulge in - if Ninazu deemed the fruits edible.

  As she set her eyes away from a short tree, Ganis’ nose picked up a familiar scent. A clear and strong fragrance of a deer made its way through the impeccable nostrils of the huntress.

  A quick jump forward marked the start of her supernatural sprint towards the helpless prey. Growing strong and more mouth-watering, the scent approached. In a flash, Ganis had her target in sight, but what she saw stopped her from further pursuit. The female deer noticed her predator and sheltered a figure behind her. It was a newborn calf still soiled with the remains of its mother’s womb. Ganis would not harm a beast in such condition, no matter how fierce her hunger. The sentiment was a relic of her past.

  She paused for a moment, amazed by the insistence of the animal to survive and bring forth yet another generation of its species in this harsh climate. How admirable.

  Her posture changed, signaling to the deer, and its progeny, that she was not a threat to them. The search for food continued, with Ganis’ eventual finding and catching of a large boar. She fed on the beast’s warm blood before bringing the carcass to the camp.

  On her way back, she noticed the hounds doing a little hunting of their own. Mimicking her own movements and combining them with Parthan ambush tactics – both which they had witnessed - Monolos’ pets circled a small snow rabbit - hiding themselves behind the bushes as they did so.

  Ganis observed in silence as the three lunged at their prey mercilessly. The critter was strangled by the sharp fangs, and then offered to Ganis. She then looked at them, saying, “I am impressed.”

  At the camp, the others sat around the campfire in complete silence. The returning guest hurled the boar next to Thalia and said to Monolos, while pointing at their four-legged friends, “You taught your new pets quite well.”

  He produced a confused hum.

  “These three little devils caught this.” She held up the white rabbit. “They were using Parthan ambush tactics.”

  “I’ve taught them no such thing. I intended to teach them tracking skills and possibly scouting ones as well, but I never imagined that they would be capable of such coordination.” Monolo
s got up and headed towards the pups to pet them. The three then wagged their tails merrily, forcing the Parthan to smile, and produced weak yelps of contentment.

  “Some animals learn from a distance by watching others of their species,” Hephaestion said. “Mice are particularly well at doing so. Yet to learn something as complex as Parthan Ona tactics with such little exposure takes more than natural tendencies. It takes intelligence.”

  “Then, perhaps, they should be tested,” Monolos said, still petting the pups.

  “I suppose I can give them a rune-reading, but it will serve no purpose to non-sentients.” Holding his right hand out towards one of the pups, Hephaestion approached it. The pup raised its head in hopes of being petted.

  Hephaestion held the hound from its chin and placed his other hand on its head. The curious yellow-eyed beast eyed him with a confused look, tilting its head slightly as its eyes wandered. As soon as Hephaestion started humming a chant, the hound’s tail started moving from right to left, eyes fixated on its holder’s shut ones.

  The chant was brought to a sudden stop and accompanied by an overly enthusiastic stare from the philosopher. “Impossible!” he said. The Parthan’s voice trembled with excitement and disbelief at what he had discovered. He revealed, “He is a bearer, a Watcher.”

  Surprised by the discovery, the other Parthans cocked their heads towards the hounds. To Ganis, the look on their faces resembled that of newborns witnessing an object for the first time.

  “Thank you Pax for your gift of life.” Eirene prayed, looking at the stars decorating the clear skies above them. The priestess’ gesture was repeated by the other servants of Pax. Once a brief moment of silence followed their sacred words, she continued, “Perhaps we can teach them how to speak. I know of chants that could grant poorborns with senses stripped from them.”

  “Medical runes?” Hephaestion asked.

  “Indeed. Perhaps you can grant them speech.”