Ashstripe
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The MAN
I'm not normally a religious man - but save me Superman!
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Post by Ashstripe on Dec 27, 2009 20:42:09 GMT -5
Eighty-One Seasons.
This is a prequel that examines the past of my characters in a few paragraphs - that's pretty much it. Enjoy.
81 Seasons
21 Autumns
1st Autumn
Beneath the azure glow of the new moon, the annual Agnai festival was in full swing. Citizens of the city Rhang Enk danced and twirled about in the vast square that constituted the market-place, a grand bonfire blazed as bright as the people's spirits in the middle of the cobblestone. Drinks were spilled and the food was plentiful as row upon row of tables had been decorated with more food than many of the citizens could name. The sounds of boisterous laughter and music filled the air and cried out to the heavens and became lost in the cloudless night amongst the stars. Every home was black and silent as the citizens of the City of Wind had retreated from their windmills and into the centre to celebrate another year. Another successful harvest. And another year of peace.
Every house but one.
Lom Enkdosu paced about the room of his rustic home. Locked outside of his own chambers and shooed away by the by the mid-wife and his own spouse. Apparently being male disqualified him from helping his wife push through the pain of childbirth - 'You wouldn't understand.' the old crow Nal had chided, with a good-natured smirk about her features despite the fierce groans of pain from his pregnant wife.
That had been one day and six hours ago. He hadn't slept for the entire time and nor did he intend to. His eyes were held open by unseen vices and twitched at the edges, threatening to be dragged down by the black bags that hung off of his dark green eyes. He brushed a few strands of black hair out of his vision as he continued another round of pacing once more, a thin layer of sweat gleamed all over his skin, moist and sticking to his sleeveless shirt while doing little to ease his temperature.
Accompanying Lom, resting on a small arm-chair beside the door was an old giant of a man. In a chair a size too small for him, he still stared eye-to-eye with his panicking friend. His faded black hair had long rusted into an iron grey and was cropped short, brushed back into a cow-lick at the base of his neck. His long moustache retained some previous signs of black, along with his side-burns, but they were peppered with growing streaks of grey.
"You should savour these moments of peace - you won't be having much after tonight." The man remarked with his eyes shut in thought, his head rested on his hand. The slow rise and fall of his chest signalled that he was teetering on the borders of consciousness.
"My wife. My wife is in there! She is in more pain than I can imagine - how can I rest and savour these moments!? Tell me Anataeus!" Lom barked, the night had been long and it was starting to wear away at his temper.
"Now my friend," Anataeus raised his hands in an open gesture, "It's only been one day - why when Nal was having young Davius, she sat through four sunrises before he'd poke his head out. Never wanted to have anything to do with the world that boy doesn't."
Lom gave Anataeus a stern look. He could see what Anataeus was trying to do and the older man did know what he was talking about. But Lom found himself apathetic to the matter, a dark part of his mind silently admitted that he really didn't care about Nal's pregnancies - not while his wife was in there.
A loud yell erupted from behind the closed door and Lom immediately found himself reaching for the handle, only to be stopped by Anataeus's massive palm holding him back at the chest.
"Nal knows what she is doing."
As though her name had summoned her presence, the door opened slowly with a dull click and a small old woman made herself apparent. She was portly and had a strange twinkle in her nearly black eyes, her dull grey hair was tied into a tight bun. She gave a warm, un-intimidated smile to the two men who towered over her.
"You have a son, Lom."
Those words broke any semblance that Lom had of self-restraint in the previous moment. His eyes widened as far as they were allowed as he quickly shoved past the old woman, all pretences of courtesy and thanks were forgotten. Nal chuckled, a dry, wooden sound as she fell into Anataeus's large arms for support,
"Your welcome!"
Lom couldn't hear her words. He couldn't see the world around him. There was only his wife and the small wriggling baby in her arms, nestled amongst the damp sheets of the bed and basked in a warm orange glow. Relia gave a tired smile, tinged with relief and unbridled happiness.
"A son." She murmured.
The man had no words to reply. They were choked in his throat as his tongue felt heavy. He could only grab his wife - no, his family - in a warm embrace, that was all either of them had energy for. He nestled his chin over her shoulder and breathed a sigh of relief.
"What is his name?" Lom breathed into her shoulder, as if he had shared her labours.
Relia gave a soft smile and released herself from the embrace as she glanced at the small baby wriggling in her arms. Laughter and sobs of joy erupted from her form as she stared at the new mass of life that she held. Lom's gaze followed suite with a fond smile. His son's eyes were a piercing green, just like his father's, the light reflected off the bright emeralds, playing a pale yellow near his irises. There was a small tuft of silky black hair at the crown of his forehead.
"His name..."
"...Is Avar."
4th Autumn
The small common room of the shrine was immaculate tiled marble. Golden rays of light canted in through the openings in the stone that constituted windows, casting a warm morning glow onto the cold stone floor. The pillars of stone ringed the circular building and were aligned with braziers which had long since died with the night, the smouldering ashes still giving rise to a plume of smoke.
Anataeus kneeled at the altar, drabbed in a brown shirt that was as probably as old as he was and wrapped itself tightly about his large frame, exposing the remnants of a man, who in his prime, was composed almost entirely of muscle. The traces apparent in the size of his arms and the breadth of his shoulders. His head was bowed as his moustache bobbed up and down in silent prayer, he was one of the few Clansman who believed in worship outside the battle-field. But he was convinced, that the God-Emperor did not live solely for war.
With his prayer finished, he slowly rose to his feet. His joints popping and creaking in protest. He was an ancient well past his prime. He stood up and glanced about the shrine, it was a simple structure, with the most expensive feature likely being the foundations - there wasn't even a carpet to encompass the bronze altar that stood in the middle.
It wasn't much, he'd admit that, but it was still a testament to Jhou. And for that, he was proud.
"Grandfatheeeer~!" His reverie was cut by a high-pitched wail, his eyes snapped to meet a young boy who limped in through the open doorway of the shrine, his shadow cast long and far in the morning light. Anataeus's weak eyes scrutinised the boy and found the source of his pain - a small graze on his knee.
'From training no doubt'
"Avar, have you hurt yourself playing again? Come here!" In five grand steps the old giant had cleared half of the shrine and had swooped the sniffling boy in his arms, the boy had an oversized long-sleeved silk shirt on and faded brown pants that was torn at his left knee, revealing a small bleeding graze underneath that had merited the boy's tears.
“Now tell me, what makes the young man cry? This battle-wound?” Anataeus inquired with forced seriousness as he prodded at the wound, a dour tone that he could barely maintain in the face of something that bemused him so.
Avar gave a yelp and glared at his would-be Grandfather, tears having turned into anger as his face scrunched into something resembling a frown, “Dat hurts! And it not playing. It training!” The boy pouted in the giants arms and made it clear where his goals lay.
“Ohoho! The young man is hurt from training! Now is my chance to strike!”
The Giant prodded the boy’s shoulder good-naturedly before he turned to a lone cupboard at the base of a pillar. Thankfully, shrines made it to be a point to be a place of healing as well as worship.
"Now hold still - my eyes aren't the best and if you aren't careful, we'll...We might end up bandaging your mouth. Not that I'm complaining."
The boy pouted and crossed his arms in a show of intimidation and anger. The façade quickly faded as Anataeus laid the cold, bitter poultice over the wound. The herbs would clean and disinfect the wound, but would also put the boy through an amount of pain that Anataeus could sympathise with; he'd sooner take another blast from a Shrapnel cannon than willingly endure the pain of the Cori herb.
"Mmm...Your mother cut your hair again," Anataeus noted as he flicked aside a stray bang in an attempt to distract the boy, "How is she?"
Avar made a face, never being one to stay angered at anything for too long as the pain in his knee began to fade into a dull throb, "She's big. Really big." He stretched his skinny arms out for emphasis, "Bigger dan Father!"
"Hoho, that is big!" Anataeus agreed,
"Eats mooore~ too!" Avar continued, "How does da baby get dere anyways? My liddle brother couldn't fit there, could he?"
Anataeus's eyes widened. He wasn't expecting that question for a while. And even if he had been expecting it, it certainly wasn't his duty to reveal the secrets of life to the young boy. That was a trial of father-hood that Lom had to pass himself.
"I, erm... Tell you what, how about I pla- train with you - if you can beat me, I'll tell you the answer." Anataeus grinned, the wrinkles folding at his cheeks like a carpet, "If not, you'll find out when your older, agreed?"
"Agweed - I cand wait till my brother comes!" Avar punctuated his statement with an enthusiastic nod.
"And what if it's a girl?" Anataeus asked, his face straight and serious as he holstered the small boy onto his broad shoulders above his head.
From the corner of the old man's eye, Avar's face fell. As if that possibility had never crossed the infant's mind in his life. He rested an elbow on Anataeus's head and his head on a palm as his face screwed up in a grimace of thought. Anataeus had to resist the urge to laugh out loud as the boy finally gave his answer.
"I guess I'd like her too."
10th Autumn
Lom stood in the paddock, a vast expanse of green land that had been designated as his training ground and any local who was stupid enough to try their mettle in combat against him. His body loose and enduring the cool autumn breeze that rustled through the trees as he brushed his hair back into a short pony-tail. His features were stern and his torso bare, wrapped in only a bright red sash at the waist and long grey trousers that ballooned just before reaching the ground at his feet.
He twisted the edge of the small wooden pole that constituted a weapon in his hands, his eyes scanning the horizon and then the small boy in front of him whom was drabbed in a similar garb to himself. A small set of tattered brown trousers was all the young boy wore and a shorter wooden pole was grasped tightly between his hands and held in front of him in a stance. The young man's hair was cropped short, the stray strands barely covering his forehead and his body was still in development, his young muscles dwarfed by the more mature of the two.
"Anytime you are ready, Avar." Lom signalled with a slight nod of his head.
Avar nodded and swallowed. This whole occurrence was nothing new to them, it was just another day of training between father and son and another day of the boy getting flattened by the man's superior strength alone - supposedly this was supposed to teach Avar technique and improve his speed and while he couldn't deny that dodging his father's strikes had improved his reflexes over the years, though he often loudly wondered if the bruises were so necessary.
The boy ran forward, closing the gap between them as Lom smiled in a sense of pride. His boy was improving at a good pace, his sword no longer dug into the ground and slowed him down, it now hovered and glided over the terrain and clipped the blades of grass whilst he rushed forward giving his cry of battle. A loud roar for the young child, but still not enough to intimidate Lom but rather bemuse him given that the boy's voice had yet to mature.
Avar brought his weapon up in a large crescant upper-slash, a manoeuvre that would slam Lom in the hips if executed successfully, when the boy was older the manoeuvre would eviscerate his target from the waist up. His eyes easily tracked the movements and predicted the path of the weapon. Without a single thought he grasped the would be weapon in his hand and pulled Avar close.
His son was stunned and certainly showed it. Eyes widened as the lunge had turned into an unexpected parody of an embrace as Lom brought Avar forward into a head-lock and ruffled his hair affectionately with his knuckles, causing a heated pain sensation to arise in the young-man's hair as he clasped at his head, attempting to break free from the lock.
"Ow! Quit it! Quit it!" Avar cried out with sporadic laughter, having noticed that his father had unofficially declared training to be over for today.
"Lesson learned my son. Lesson learned. Fight with your head and then with your heart." Lom chided in between his own gracious laughter as he furthered the would-be punishment of his son, bringing the boy to the ground in the lock. They collapsed in a heap upon the spongey grass that was almost like a mattress to cushion their bruises, "If that had been a target clad in armour, well, he would've done the same manoeuvre I just performed."
"And I'd be dead, I know." Avar mumbled as he finally freed himself from Lom's arm, "Don't have to tell me twice. I can handle any knight or Azipaph soldier anyways!"
"Now my son, you are a long way from fighting in the Emperor's name. And besides, we are at peace for the time being, there is no need to be so blood thirsty." Lom smiled as he kneeled beside his son and placed his hand on his head, "War is not something to be anticipated - but expected."
"But I want to serve the Emperor! And save people! And be called a hero and stuff! Like you!" Avar exclaimed as he rattled off his father's accomplishments in his life of bloodshed. Lom was simultaneously proud and sick to know that his son had memorised all of his battles and slain nemesis' of battles past, of his father's exploits in the Azipaph war and how he had held off a squad of titans armed only with his blade and his wits.
"Serving the Emperor doesn't always involve killing," Lom began, "You see Jhou and Agnai's will, all around us - in the trees, the rivers and the laughter of the young children, we fight not because we love fighting. But because we love those around us. Understand?"
"I guess." Avar murmured, his apparent fantasy's having grown more sombre and realistic as his father's.
"Jhou signed the pact and wrote the Doctrine for a reason, my son. Although you may not see it yet, one day you will, " Lom adjusted his sash with a thumb and jammed his wooden weapon through a loop in the fabric and tightened it accordingly as he glanced over to the City-walls in the distance, "We best be going home, I doubt that I'll survive if we come home late again - your mother will make sure of that." He held out an open palm, hanging just at his thighs.
Avar grinned and took the gesture, encompassing his small, calloused hand in the much larger and leathery grip of his father's, as the two began to walk along the dusty gravel road towards the City, past the red-brown leaves of the trees that were thinly spread along the fence-line. Snow had ceased to fall as of late, but old habits died hard for the trees.
"Do you think I could be General one day?"
Lom pursed his lip, in a short answer, yes. In a long answer, no. He silently prayed that by the time Avar was old enough, there would be no need for Generals or even an Imperial Army. And that seemed likely with every passing day, Emperor Honsing had made it clear that diplomacy was on his agenda with the Azipaph and he would ask them to cast aside their heretical ways for the sake of peace.
"Maybe. If you just correct that swing of yours." Lom grinned and prodded his son in the head with two jarred fingers.
15th Autumn
"GET DOWN, DAMN YOU!"
Knowing better than to disagree with a direct order, Avar dived towards the ground. He could see a reflection of himself in the puddle for a brief second just before he landed in it, spraying mud in all directions. A few moments later, the world around him shook and the trench rocked as a deafening roar rumbled above. Dirt splattered into the trench and into his hair.
He risked a look above him, smoke was drifting into the sky overhead, but the woodwork had held. Bits of scrap metal littered the floor around him, stabbing themselves into the earth and into a few bodies that had once been comrades - but apart from that, the defences hadn't been breached by the shell.
"Okay, you can get up now." Sergeant Yun said in irritation, "Skakking metal-farmers."
"I hate the Azipaph." Avar muttered as he scrambled to his feet. His sword was still secure in his sheath which was strapped to the red sash at his waist. But his once blue coat was drenched in mud and his shirt was gripping him more tightly than before - he had long lost feeling in his feet. And he was sure that wasn't a good sign.
"By the Emperor this trench is filthy." Muttered Taoka as he dusted himself off, he had been lucky enough to dive into the direction of dust and not mud. But that wasn't enough to deter him from finding something negative about the situation, "I just cleaned the bastard too!" He indicated the world around him as if it were a house. Cleaning was a euphemism for 'shifting the bodies out of the way'.
It wasn't a house, but it was their home for the month.
Yun was the oldest of the three and seemed to be in his late twenties, he had already gained more than his fair share of scars that riddled his features like rivers, a particularly nasty one run from his lower lip up to his right eye, coming short of causing any real permanent damage. The rest were shallow cuts from stray shrapnel and mostly obscured by his black-blue armour that most of the Imperial Army wore, the insignia for his rank was covered in mud in such a way that he almost could be taken for a Corporal if he hadn't wiped it off quickly enough.
Taoka was only a little older than Avar by a few months(A fact he always reminded Avar of.), the two having become friends a few years back by Avar's younger sister. He was the auburn boy with the flattop haircut who insisted on talking faster than he could think, his warm blue eyes held a lightning spark of mischief that danced from iris to iris as his endless plans were formulated in his mind. He was more muscular and larger than Avar and carried himself like he knew it.
"Avar, next time you decide to do something stupid - like oh, joining a skakking war - I'm not following to save your sorry ass." Taoka remarked as he dusted himself off.
"Good. Then I'll be able to spend more time killing the Azipaph and less time protecting the pretty boy." Avar glared to conceal a grin.
"Both of you shut up." Yun said.
They shut.
"That's great - we just lost the rest of the squad." Yun remarked as he cast an appraising eye to survey the damage, the shell had landed further up the line, to where the other Privates were stationed with the Corporal of their squad. Where men once stood, were a few limbs and a smouldering crater and piles of shrapnel that stabbed the ground every few feet.
"Well, roll-call just got shorter then, didn't it?" Taoka added, "Whatever happened to a platoon dies together? Sergeant?"
Yun glared at the smart-mouthed subordinate, "Private - shut up."
"We could pull out and retreat to Outpost Neung, Sergeant." Avar said as he followed the Sergeants gaze. The trench was still in good condition, but he couldn't say the same about the men and women that had previously defended it.
"No-can-bloody-do," Yun snapped, "Technically, we should be where they are," He pointed over the trench towards the Azipaph that sat across the once grassy moor that had turned into a muddy no-man's land, "And the Captain hasn't been too pleased with our progress."
"The Captain can shove it up his ass." Taoka said. "He hasn't spent a day in these trenches, he's been taking it easy at Neung."
Avar chewed on his lower lip as Yun growled whilst he death-stared at the big-mouthed Private,
"Maybe so, Private. But I'd appreciate it if you shut your bloody mouth. I don't want you getting stabbed for insubordination."
There was a loud whistle as more soldiers poured into the trench. Reinforcements were scheduled every six hours to reinforce any squads that the stationed platoon had lost, the trio were visibly surprised with their presence - day after day of shelling had blown any concept of time out with the last Private. Yesterday there hadn't been much need for reinforcement, with every man and able-bodied replacement being declined - today, Avar doubted there was enough to go around.
"Skak, been six hours already?" Taoka said with a whistle of appreciation, "Thank the God-Emperor for small mercies."
The soldiers leapt into the trench and nodded their greetings, these weren't fresh conscripts like the previous lot. These soldiers had the grim determination about them, that only prayed that they'd survive the rest of the day and live to see tomorrow's sunrise. There was a few clansman amongst them, a Hindosu and Nordosu, one of which appeared to be a Sergeant and another bore the insignia of a Captain. The Hindosu was a tall, and impassive man with copper hair cropped into a buzz-cut and was more heavily armoured than anyone present - his left shoulder-pad bore the splashed lines of a Sergeant, clearly visible and pristine in a field of mud. He nodded his greetings as his subordinates had, moving as freely as if he wore nothing. The other, a Nordosu woman, was clad in more light wear, a few pads of armour adjourned her figure but the majority was simple cloth and boots suitable for reconnaissance than real combat. Her fore-arms looked recently bandaged and her brown eyes held no mercy or any sense of empathy for the tired men present.
"Captain Kindra Rasso here d'o relieve commond. Captain Habyusa be's KIA- Neung be fallen. Yo' know what dat means?" Her lips curled into a sinister smile,
Avar smiled grimly, a new Captain, a lost outpost and fresh troops meant only one thing.
"Yes ma'am. I'll prepare the men." Yun said as he motioned to his two remaining sub-ordinates, taking the words straight from his superior's mouth, "We're going for another walk, boys - hopefully we can silence that artillery."
"Succeed or die trying, gentlemen." The nameless Sergeant finally ordered in a deep voice, it was like he was yelling in a huge cave that echoed every syllable, "Agent Mam of the Csars will be accompanying you on this mission."
"Better start diggin' our graves now then." Taoka said as he clambered over the edge of the trench, "I like mine nice and deep! With a big fancy tombstone!"
"Taoka, shut up. You don't joke about those things." Avar muttered as he followed over the dirt wall, Yun giving a grunt of appreciation for Avar's words.
17th Autumn
Avar stood in a large stone chamber, surrounded by a gaggle of young men and women, all disarmed and clueless and frightened as to why there were here. After all, being led by the hand by a Csar, blindfolded and ending up in a small stone chamber that had only a small torch to give light was nothing short of terrifying. The chamber was dominated by a small podium and had no visible doors, apparently there was a seal or lock that revealed the paths.
Nobody had the luck of finding it yet.
He stared at the people whom occupied the room with him, many were drabbed in military uniforms, tattered and covered with mud. Others looked like warriors with no cause, their armour of the Empire's design and linked with chains with their small spears and katanas. The remainder, was the most terrifying - a large bald man whom was covered in scars and strange tattoos; he had introduced himself earlier as a murderer - apparently having killed sixteen men and was on his way to the execution when a Csar had intervened.
So perhaps there was some hope for them.
Or maybe there was not. There was a legend that Csars had a kill-quota that had to be fulfilled on a monthly basis - this supposed quota was the amount of traitors to the Empire and the Emperor that had been particularly vocal or active about their interests, which often didn't fully coincide with the Jhou Empire's goals - which would translate to treason, which would translate to a death sentence. Only Nobles, Clansmen and Jhou forbid - Csars, ever had the luxury of something as trivial as a trial.
A portion of the stone wall rumbled open, heaved by unseen chains that screeched in their labours, behind it was a small wiry man, dressed in plain dull steel armour and a faded green cloak which concealed neck and mouth, the rest was hidden under the brim of a large bamboo hat. Everything about him was utilitarian. From the way he walked to the way his sheath was positioned at his waist, this man was built for maximum efficiency.
His boots clacked upon the stone floor as he approached the lone podium that stood on the other side of the room. The small gathering dispersed like water under each of his steps, pushing and shoving as they tried to give him a wide berth.
He reached the podium and pulled down the brim of his coat, revealing thin cruel lips that hosted a deep scar and a hairless patch on the left side of his face, it looked like a fresh burn had recently healed. His golden eyes were visible now, a pair of dull suns that scanned the room and silently criticised everyone present.
"You are all chosen, as the Emperor's finest."
21st Autumn
"Jhou help us - this is the best they could do?"
Khan Sakristhao stood amongst the haggard line of equally haggard recruits and swallowed nervously, ever mindful to keep his eyes forward and to ignore the urge to wipe the sweat that had dribbled down to the tip of his nose in the tropical midday sun. He had only enlisted a little over six hours ago and had been taken from the Capital - in a Waverider no less - in front of many gaping onlookers, as he boarded the impressive vessel along with a Captain and his entourage of soldiers. That was the last he saw of him, for he was quickly taken into the cargo hold of the ship and locked with another group of recruits.
Upon arrival, they had been unloaded with quick and merciless efficiency, given a quick chance to relieve themselves in the latrine - literally a trench in the ground - they were loaded onto another vehicle that Khan had no name for, it was more a large blimp than anything yet still moved at an impressive speed.
From there they had been deposited in the middle of nowhere, a small clearing in the Jungle of the Western Continent, there they had met Sergeant Avar Enkdosu who immediately barked at them to fall into a line.
"Look at you all! You call this a line? You! Yes you - the one with the stupid hair-cut. Your more than an arm's length away from the next man!" Enkdosu was at the other end of the line, for a moment Khan debated taking a look but decided that it wasn't in his best interests. His nostrils flared as he took in the air - it was rich with exotic pollens.
He risked a glance at his surroundings, jungle-vines and creepers hung from the canopy of trees, wrapping around the trunks like thick green lines of rope. Rare birds whistled from over-head as a chorus of insects buzzed constantly, occasionally a howl could be heard from the tree-tops which started an entire symphony of the call.
"It is amazing, isn't it?" A voice said from next to him.
Khan glanced to his side, there was a girl, probably only a year older than himself with a vivid mop of black hair, her mouth was open and her blue eyes took in their surroundings with much excitement.
"I'm more hot and sweaty than anything, really." Khan murmured back,
"That's certainly cynical!" The girl sounded astonished, "It's an honour being here!"
"What's your name?"
"Nue Silasum, from Chiyoto."
"Dats where dat bastard lapdog arrested me!" Growled another voice next to her, Khan soon found himself glancing up at a boy much larger than both of them, his green eyes were narrowed in a permanent frown and his nose looked like it had been broken several times, "A backwater place I be never goin' back to."
Khan opened his mouth to respond but soon found a shadow had fallen over him.
It was Sergeant Enkdosu.
"I take it, that you all didn't hear a word of what I just said?" He said in low tones, Khan risked eye-contact and immediately wish he hadn't. From beneath the Sergeant's black fring, the left side of his face was wrought with scars - three running parallel down his cheek from his forehead - yet he somehow retained use of his left eye; albeit with a slight squint. There was a thin layer of stubble about his chin and cheeks and his eyes suggested a world of hurt was coming for them.
Khan swallowed as he decided lying would probably make the Sergeant madder, "No sir."
"What did you just call me?"
"I called you 'sir', sir."
The Sergeant leaned in closer, his left eye twitched, "Well skakking well don't. I have to work for a living - you call Officer's 'sir' or 'ma'am'. And you salute them too! If you call me anything to my face, it's Sergeant, or Sergeant Enkdosu if you think I'll get confused." He snapped.
For a brief shining moment, Khan thought he had gotten away with it.
"Since you three like talking so much, your in an Infantry section together. And since your section was showing me disrespect,"
Enkdosu turned swiftly and kneed the larger recruit in the stomach, there was a loud 'oooomph' as the large boy fell to his knees. Before the Sergeant's coat could even settle back in place, he continued on his tangent whilst he flicked his pony-tail out of the way,
"You have a wounded man and no shelter - fix it. And by that I don't mean his stupid buzz-cut, now hold tight recruit."
"My name...Be Bandas." The large recruit wheezed with a glare, "I don' need to take orders from a lapdog like you. I've murdered sixteen od'er soldiers before and I'll do it again." He started to stumble back onto his feet, breathing deeply with every exertion.
Sixteen? Khan's mind boggled at that number,
Enkdosu's smile was contemptuous, "Oh really? You've what? Killed four men? I suppose that earns you the title of Bandas?" He eyed the tattoo on the recruit's arm, seemingly unimpressed with the boast.
Bandas seemed confused, "I'd say so."
"I don't, I'd say it makes you a skakking low-life with a mouth as big as the desert. Do you know how many men I've killed with this sword?" Enkdosu snapped as he motioned to the sheathed weapon, "No? Frankly I don't know either - I stopped counting after the first week at one-hundred and fifty."
"Want to know what I did to some Azipaph bastard last month?" He pointed to his leather boots, they had steel caps at the toes and soles, "Stomped on his chest with this boot right here. Spewed more blood than you've probably seen - he was a lot more talkative after that!"
"So you see, recruit Bandas - who your not - you just have a skakking attitude problem. And unless you want to find out what a real Bandas is - I suggest you shut your skakking mouth."
Khan swallowed, Bandas had actually blanched! Their female section-mate gasped audibly and cupped her mouth with her hands, none of them had been expecting this on their first day.
"Now then," Sergeant Enkdosu continued with a smirk, "We're breaking our little role-play." He administered a fresh kick to Bandas' already winded stomach and smiled as the recruit exhaled and collapsed,
"You are to fetch the tents from the Quarter-master as well as carry your big-mouthed companion." He turned to face the rest of the platoon, "As for the rest of you sorry layabouts, I want the tents here and pitched by the time I get back! Captain Kindra Nordosu will be here shortly!"
WIP
81 Seasons
17 Summers
1st Summer
Candlelight flickered and faded as Lom held a small lantern over his labouring wife. His face contorted in silent screams of empathy as Relia clasped his hand with more force than he thought possible from the delicate woman. Beside him, Nal bustled about, her small round figure was suprisingly fleet of foot as she shifted basins of steaming water in and out the room with silent efficiency and changed the cloth on Relia's forehead.
It had been the fourth of a warm Summer night and Relia had been determined to have Lom at her side this time, insisting that he shared some portion of the pain that she could never describe and spend his nights in a sleepless vigil alongside the two women.
Oh the trials of Fatherhood.
"Shouldn't be much longer." Nal affirmed as she squeezed water out of a cloth with a warm smile.
Relia's head rocked back into her pillow as her grip on Lom intensified, the large man remained silent but winced noticably, "I-", Relia began but was cut off by a fresh surge of pain that rippled throughout her entire body. She gave a loud yelp and tried to breathe rapid breaths through clenched teeth, "For Agnai's sake!" She cursed.
"Now my dear, I'll admit this is worse than little Avar. But we're nearly out of the woods yet...Just one more push should do." Nal said with a tone of reminiscence, it had only been four years since little Avar had been born and the little boy had been excited to meet his new sibling. Though Lom had been quick to dismiss that excitement and sleepless nights, telling his son- almost cynically - to cherish these last few nights of peace.
With a final yell, Relia relaxed into the bed as there was an audible gurgle from Nal's hands.
The old woman smiled as the creases in her face crinkled up with delight, there was a fresh light in her eyes now, all exhaustion having been forgotten as the small bundle of new life wriggled in her grip. She quickly wrapped the child in a towel and focused her eyes on the panting mother and the exuberant father.
"Well I never, it's a girl." She said almost off-handedly, as she handed the bundle to Lom - Relia was in no shape to hold anything, even her grip on Lom had finally weakened.
"She is beautiful." Lom murmured as he held his new daughter as if she was fragile glass, every motion was controlled with his large hands as he held his breath every time she stirred. The baby gave a small yawn and opened her eyes for the first time, they were a brilliant bright green; brighter than her father's yet still not quite matching her mother's brown. Small scraggly strands of hair were stained a warm brown, a clash of her parent's colours Lom noted with a smile.
"Let me see." Relia breathed as she held out a willowy hand,
Lom shifted slightly and brought the small child to the fore, allowing Relia's fingers to stroke her forehead briskly as her strength finally gave way. The man nearly leapt in fright but a quick glance at Nal had dismissed it as exhaustion. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief and collapsed into a nearby chair with his daughter in hold, the precious cargo starring up and reaching for his wild stubble that had nearly become a full fledged beard.
"Skak." He noted as he felt his chin, it was like sand-paper and itched the tips of his fingers, "It's been that long?"
"Don't swear in front of the baby." Relia murmured from the bed,
"She doesn't know." Lom said as he tucked a strand of Relia's damp hair behind her ear, "She's just been born, that's a lot to take in as it is."
With great care and difficulty, he placed their new daughter into his wife's arms, for her to see the fruits of her labours should have been more than enough to compensate for the pain that she had endured; at least, that was how he saw it. He could never know what Relia had endured and for that - he was grateful in a sense.
The baby gurgled and reached out towards her mother's hair, mimicking Lom's previous gesture, yet her tiny fingers found nothing but air as the warm locks remained far beyond her grasp, Relia cooed and Lom gave a content smile, having rediscovered his standard of masculinity.
"Does she have a name?" Nal asked from beside Lom,
"You shall name our children, Relia." Lom said with a nod,
"Her name...Is Lai." Relia murmured as she stroked Lai's nose, whom gurgled again at the gesture.
The door crashed open with the sole of a brown boot visible, faded pine splinters skittered across the stone floor as the metal braces clanged against the stonework. There was only one man insane enough to kick a door down when it was obviously unlocked.
"Now let me see Avar's little brother!" Anataeus hollared with an audacious grin, the long years and arthritis had yet to catch up with the old man. Despite being well past his prime, he still had a youthful exuberance of someone a fraction of his age. He cleared the floor in five grand bounding steps and bent over to place his face inline with the baby at Relia's bosom. His face crinkled upward in delight the moment his eyes made contact with the small bright green eyes of his would-be Grand-daughter.
Lom cleared his throat, having adjusted to Anataeus' boisterous presence, "Anataeus - meet Lai."
"Little Lai..." He held out a gloved finger for the girl to grasp as he leaned in close, warming the new-born with his breath, "You have a grand fu-eooowww!" Lai had grasped the fringe of his long handlebar moustache and gleefully made it a point to not let go. The old man gave a sharp whine of pain and slowly tried to disarm the baby without causing any harm to the newborn. The corners of his eyes were ever-mindful to the expression on Relia's face which hovered between bemusement and truculence.
"Now dear...That's not for grabiiiiiiiooooow!"
"Your an embarrassment to your clan." Lom muttered while Nal palmed her forehead - only her husband, one of the most powerful men in the Empire, could be bullied by a newborn. Relia gave a weary giggle whilst her daughter followed suit with another gurgle, her grip showing no signs of loosening despite Anataeus' distress.
They didn't know it then, but it was the start of a long and bizarre relationship.
4th Summer
Dry gravel crunched underfoot in the glare of the midday sun as Lom paced along the endless fence line of the road, in the distance he could make out the blurred mirage of the Mountains and forests that acted as the gateway to the lands beyond his care. Closer yet, was the City of Winds and his home which lay just on the outskirts - urban life had proved to be unsettling for his family as refugees from the fallen city of Hun'tap, the paths that had once been a place for his children to run freely were now occupied with poorly made sewers. The paddock with which he trained his first-born son was now a little more than a camp-site; he didn't have the heart to move those whom had already lost so much.
No one in the Empire had expected the Fortress-Capital of the Eastern Front to collapse, but then again - no one had reckoned with the Azipaph's Immolator. But these thoughts were beyond the scope of his current assignment, to rest and recuperate for another tour of duty on the Western Front. The man shaded his eyes and scratched his chin with his remaining hand, a scraggly goatee had grown from his time in a land where water was precious and strictly for drinking. Despite this, dried spittle encrusted his lips and his face was covered in patches of blackened dirt and ash, testaments to deeds best left forgotten.
His torso was wrapped in bandages and coated in a layer of black, having at one point been white and sterile; but that was a luxury that one couldn't afford in war. Beyond that, he only wore the same pants and boots that he had left in, littered with holes and tears, his grey coat having been bleached to a shade of faded white. His hair was greasy and hung over his forehead, having been cut by his own sword for the sake of keeping it out of his eyes.
"Daddy! Daddy!" A chirpy voice made itself apparent as a small girl charged straight towards him, her arms outstretched and her brown strands of hair flying wildly from underneath her white silk cap.
"Lai!" Lom cried out with a similar level of enthusiasm and held his own much larger arms out to greet his daughter and went down one knee; all thoughts of his own lack of hygiene were forgotten as he cast off his own coat and took the brunt of the four year old girl slamming head-first into his chest. He could feel her tiny arms struggling to wrap around his neck as her fingers attempted to stretch further than their defined limits; hoping to meet on the other side.
"Your so dirty and itchy! You know dat?" Lai exclaimed as she brought her face away from the embrace to stare up at her father, her cheeks were now covered in a thin layer of black from the bandages,
Lom's face crinkled upwards in a smile, "And that's why it is important for you to keep having baths."
His daughter pouted, an expression that only melted Lom's heart more than anything, "If you say so - but I think there's a monster there."
There was no time for Lom to even consider an explanation for Lai's irrational fear of water as his eyes found themselves drawn to the familiar curves of a woman whom had remained in his memory for every night that he had spent on the front. Every-night he prayed, that he would be graced with one more chance to look at her before his time came, that Jhou and Agnai would show him mercy by giving him a chance to say his final farewells.
Lom's prayers had been answered.
Just behind the wooden barrier and leaning on the gate was Relia, though they had only been apart for a little over six months, Lom still found himself noticing changes about her features. From the major alterations such as the length of her hair and the dark blue dress and white apron she wore to a new blemish tucked away in an obscure place at the base of her neck. His eyes absorbed every detail, eager to re-associate himself with the mother of his children.
His daughter forgotten momentarily, Lom rushed as quickly as his legs would allow him to meet his wife. In the span of a second he had cleared the distance and swept his wife - quite literally - off her feet and before the dust even had a chance to settle he had planted a kiss on her cheek. His scraggly beard itched at her skin whilst she giggled happily,
"I always did prefer you with a beard, you know."
"I know." Lom rested his forehead against Relia's as she wrapped her arms around his neck, "But I have to lead by example - a good soldier must be clean-shaven, those are the rules an-"
"And if we don't follow the rules, then how can we expect the common soldier to, I know." Relia smiled, "You've told me that already. Now put me down!"
Lom smiled and complied, placing her down gently on her feet as if she was a glass statue. But no sooner then did his hands leave her figure did a tiny blur catapult herself into his stomach,
"Ooomph! You get faster and faster every time I see you!" Lom exclaimed as he stumbled back a few paces, hands finding themselves supporting Lai at her waist, "Are you sure you haven't learned how to wind-walk?"
Lai made a face, "Don't be silly! Dat's too hard!"
"Of course, a little girl like you? Never." Lom replied with a grin, as he hoisted Lai onto his hip, "Now then, have you been a good girl while I was away?"
"Of course!" Lai mimicked with an enthusiastic nod, "Mother was getting worried too! But your here! Mother always smiles more when your around!"
Relia laughed uneasily at her daughter's innocent lack of tact, "Well why shouldn't I be? You aren't invincible Lom."
"I know." Lom muttered, "I just want a world where our children can grow up happy." He indicated his daughter with a nod of his head, whilst she grabbed fistfuls of his hair and arranged them into crude braids. She certainly didn't know how to do that the last time he was here - this war hadn't taken his life, but it was taking his meaning away.
"Speaking of which, where is Avar?" Lom said,
"He's training with Anataeus; he says he wants to beat you this time." Relia replied as she quietly removed Lai's hands from her husband's hair and began to sort out the tangled black mess, "It's a good thing Davian took over as General, I don't think Nal could handle Anataeus running off to fight another war."
"Anataeus was reluctant to retire, but Davian eventually proved his point when he managed to swing his sword without feeling his hip crack." Lom chuckled, that day had been particularly eventful out on the front - it took a broken hip, a shrapnel blast and the loss of an entire squad for Anataeus to leave the Imperial Army.
"Let's go see Avy!" Lai exclaimed from Lom's shoulders, having clambered upwards with a little help from her father, "He never plays with me any-more; but he should now!"
10th Summer
Cold metal boots clacked upon stone as the footsteps echoed off the walls of the small shrine, the air was warm and musty, a thin layer of dust coated everything and even the banners and tapestries looked worn and faded. Times had changed and the old man couldn't quite afford to look after his beloved shrine anymore, supplies were tight and no one had any inclination to contribute to the upkeep of something as trivial as faith. Anataeus would never hold that against them, to many, Jhou was just an extraordinary man - not a god.
But what caught Anataeus's attention, was the little girl sobbing at the altar, her brown head bobbing with silent tears, her hair was tied into a neat pair of braids and from what he could see, she was dressed in a simple dress - not that Lai was one ever prone to wear dresses.
The old man breathed a sigh, having paused for a brief moment to assess Lai's state - Relia had been worried about the girl after she had gone missing from the local creek and with Lom still off at the Eastern Front and Avar off with Taoka, it fell to Anataeus to find her whilst Relia went on a cleaning bender; that was bad, Relia never went on cleaning benders unless she was really upset.
She had already torn up half the local area looking for her daughter, until she had nearly collapsed in front of Anataeus from exhaustion, the old man had offered aid and wouldn't take no for an answer - whilst insisting she remain at home.
"Now then," Anataeus said as he took a seat next to Lai at the marble steps, "Why is it that the little bird cries so?"
The sobbing halted as Anataeus wiped the girl's face, his large hand encompassing her entire head and more, leaving her to crane her neck upwards to gaze at her would be Grandfather. Her eyes were still bright as the day she was born, albeit more moist than usual and her upper-lip trembled,
"Its those stupid boys!" She sniffled, wrapping her hands about his arm and resting on his forearm, "Those stupid boys Anataeus!"
...Oh dear.
Anataeus felt his chest seize up in what would undoubtedly be another challenge he wasn't quite expecting to overcome - why was it that Lom was always at war when his children were ready to ask the more difficult questions? Boy troubles weren't due for a few more years, Avar had only just started asking him about girls for Jhou's sake!
"They threw rocks at me again!"
"Oh good!" Anataeus breathed a sigh of relief, finding his free hand having clutched his chest unconsciously.
Lai gave him a withering look, "You think it's good that they threw rocks at me!?"
"I-..Well no! No! What I meant was - oh nevermind that." He tucked a stray strand of Lai's hair behind her ear, "Now tell me, who is they?"
"Taoka and Avar. I hate them both." She pouted as she folded her arms,
"Now now, you don't mean that." He patted her head softly, "You were only playing with them last week weren't you?"
"I guess." Lai said, unsure of where this was going, "But why do they do that Anataeus!?"
"Well, Little Lai, girls are beautiful things and your brother and Taoka don't quite realise that, it takes time for boys to realise. Some men go their entire lives without realising - sometimes they don't even realise that they think so now." Anataeus grinned cheekily, "So they don't quite know how to express it, so they might throw rocks at you."
"So when Avar threw rocks at Taoka and they got into a fight does that mean-" Lai began puzzled at her would be Grandfather's advice.
"No! That's different. And a story for next time - my point is...I don't quite remember - just don't hold it against them I suppose." Anataeus stroked his moustache, feeling the years catch up with him, "Now do me a favour and stop crying, otherwise I'll start." He patted her head against softly, resting his palm at her shoulders, his hand encompassing her entire breadth.
Lai stared at him for a moment, her bright green eyes wide with a new light and her lips had a fresh smile, "Thanks Grandfather."
15th Summer
The ground beneath Avar's feet shook as the massive gates of the City of Winds rumbled shut, the never-ending river of refugees, traders and haggard civilians hadn't slowed since his previous visit home, if anything it had gotten worse. The overcast sky mirrored his mood, chewing on the roll of Junyo that now had a permanent home at his lower-lip, a hewn hand on his shoulder insinuated a direction for him to move, towards a corner behind a few empty crates.
He was grateful for a chance not to think.
Sergeant Yun - no, just Yun now - gave him a weak smile as he guided him over to where a few other soldiers were waiting, their expressions devoid of joy, their faces covered in a thin layer of ash and grime.
"Your sure you want to deliver the news on your own? I was his commanding Officer an-" Yun said with uncharacteristic sympathy, during the war he had been so hardened and cold, but the moment he was out of uniform he suddenly regained his humanity.
"Yeah, I'm sure." Avar mumbled, "I was his friend and I'm her brother."
"This is gonna kill her." Yun said.
"I know." Avar fiddled with his sleeve, noting the presence of another hole in the fabric.
"Well," Yun sighed, "If you two need to get drunk, we'll be at the tavern - come on sweethearts." He motioned to the tattered parody of his once proud squad, a shivering wreck of adolescents who had seen more than most would in their life-time.
"We ship out in two weeks, Enkdosu." Yun called over his shoulder as he hobbled towards the local tavern, a downcast building that leaked smoke from every window and chimney.
To be continued.
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For my anthros...man...I can't draw 'em without making them human-dominate with a few touches of animal. -laughs- Don't worry. Anthros are hard to draw. >_> Ashstripeness looks good for yar first attempt!
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