[IC] Home

[Cal Soulshadow]

Departure

The ship stands tall and proud in the water, ready to take her home. With a glance over her shoulder, she steps on board; supple leather boots leaving prints of Britannian dirt on the gangplank.
The captain salutes her.
“What’s the weather like, over there?” she asks him.
He shrugs. “Snow’s mostly gone from the Highlands. Heavy rains last week. Where ye headed?”
“Treido border. Sandholt.”
“Ye’ll likely get te stay dry then.”
The ship pulls away from the docks, but Cal doesn’t look back. She faces forwards, towards the horizon. Towards Gorimdor, and Kai.

Arrival

“Sandholt!”
The wagon judders to a holt.
Slinging her kit bag over her shoulder, Cal jumps down from the tailgate and immediately regrets it as pain shoots through both knees. She grimaces, but says nothing. It is important not to show weakness to anyone, and especially not to recruits with whom she has shared the journey.
She glances at them briefly; three young men in their late teens, fresh-faced and eager. Once, long ago, she was like them; unscarred and unjaded, full of conviction and ready to die for her king.
And now…

Footsteps crunch on dusty road. A shadow falls across her.
“Well, if it isn’t the cockroach.”
She looks up, into the face of a man who once made her life a living hell. The face is more lined than it once was; the hair more grizzled, but flint grey eyes are unmistakeable. It is Drill Sergeant Severson.
“That’s Commander Cockroach te ye, Sergeant,” she quips.
“Commander eh? Does that mean I have ter salute ye now?”
A devilish half-smile forms on her lips. “Technically speaking, I could make ye hop up and down on one log fer the misery ye put me through twenty years back… But seein’ as I’m on leave, I’ll let it slide fer now.”
“Leave eh? I thought fer one terrible moment ye were joinin’ us.”
“Trust me, I’ve thought about it.”
“Oh aye, missed me, did ye?” The old drill sergeant grinned, revealing a missing tooth.
“Like a hole in the head.”
“Speakin’ o’ which, I heard rumours that ye were dead.”
“I got better.”
“Nothing changes, then, Commander Cockroach.”
“No, indeed.” She glanced over to the three recruits, who stood in a huddle by the road. “I believe those are yers, Sergeant.”
He followed her gaze. “More meat fer the grinder.”
She smiles again, feeling almost sorry for the recruits, and walks towards Sandholt’s towering gatehouse.

Sandholt

Sandholt is not like Strongholt. Housing around 3,000 soldiers, it is the largest garrison in Gorimdor. Named for its thick, sandstone walls, it reminds Cal of Trinsic. Or perhaps Trinsic reminds her of Sandholt, for it is here that she spent the first few years of her army career.

There have been a few changes. Some buildings have gone; larger structures have taken their place. The small sapling in the main quad is now full-grown tree. But the rest; the rest is as it was. Just being here brings a host of memories flooding back. Memories that had faded with time and trauma. She feels a little of the pride she once felt as a raw recruit, and a little of the excitement.

“Ye seem tae know yer way around, ma’am.”
She looks up at the young maul knight who has been assigned to make her visit more pleasant. A highlander from Ceita, he stands a good foot taller than her, though his lanky frame has not yet filled out.
“I was stationed here a few times. Hasnae changed much.”
“And ye’d come back here on yer leave, ma’am? Most of us cannae wait tae get away!”
She smiled thinly. “Compared te Strongholt, this is a paradise.”
“What’s it like over there?”
“The land? Not unlike here, but smaller. More islands. Less central landmass.” She shrugs. “As fer Strongholt, it’s not bad. A lot smaller than here, but considerin’ it’s been under siege several times, it’s done us well enough. Problem is, the men no longer have any purpose, and they have become despondent. We’re under-budgeted and unmotivated. A few years ago it was an adventure, but now, well, it’s more of a curse te be posted there.”
“Will ye return here fae good then, ma’am?”
“Perhaps. There’s no action and no promotion prospects, and now that my man is here, I see little reason not te come home. Speakin’ o’ which, where’s the gym these days?”
The young maul’s eyes widen for a moment. “The gym, ma’am? After that journey?”
“Oh I’ll not be makin’ use of it teday. But if I know Kai as well as I think I do, that is where he’ll be.”
“Kai is yer man?” His eyebrow twitches as though he is trying to picture such a union, and failing. “I mean, is it Kai ye are here tae see, ma’am?”
“Kai is my man, aye.”
“He kept that quiet.”
“He’s not much of a talker.”
“Ye can say that again.”

Reunion

As they enter the gym, she sees him, a giant among giants.
“Kai.”
He turns slowly, seeing her, and puts down the weights he has been lifting.
Then he does something he does only rarely. He smiles.

[Cal Soulshadow]

R and R

A week has passed and they are walking towards the mess hall for breakfast. The sky above them is the clear, pale blue of a robin’s egg.
“Good morning, Commander Cockroach.”
Cal looks up and sees Severson. She nods to him as he passes by on his way to the recruit barracks.
“Why does he call you that?” Kai asks. “You are not an insect.”
She laughs. “Have ye ever tried killin’ a cockroach, Kai? They don’t die easily.”
“You have died,” he says earnestly.
“And yet, here I am.” She shrugs a little. “I turn forty soon. I always thought I’d die before I reached that age.”
“There is still time,” Kai says ominously.
Cal laughs again, but deep down, the comment bothers her.

Later, after Kai has gone off to train, and Cal sits alone in the visiting officers’ quarters, she begins to dwell on it. It isn’t the prospect of death that bothers her – far from it. Every true Razan wishes for a good death in battle. It is the fact that, despite so many close calls, she is still here. Why?

She recalls the last conversation she had with that old eccentric, Callum Fitzhugh. “Die well,” is his usual parting comment, but last time he simply said farewell.

“Ye usually say ‘Die well,’” she says to him as he nudges his horse into a trot.
He turns and looks at her sadly. “I think we both know that you won’t.”

Cal goes to the window and looks out. She can just about make out where the desert begins, about fifty miles or so to the south.
She should stay. Be with Kai. Work towards her promotion. Find death on the battlefield against the barbarian hoards, just as Lenar did. Earn herself a brazier at the Temple of Raza in Kaldor City.
But something tells her she cannot.
There is someone she must speak to first. Someone she must visit.
Her father.

[Cal Soulshadow]

Father

“What do ye want me te say, Cal? Do ye want me te give ye my blessing?”
She looks up at him; the man she has called “Father” for all of her life.
He is into his seventies now, but time has done little to diminish his stature. His hair is grey, but his eyes are as hard and black as ever. She feels them bore into her.
“I want te stay,” she says. “I feel I’m wastin’ my time there. I feel we are wastin’ our time. There’s no war fer us te fight. We’re makin’ no progress.”
He folds his arms. She sees the muscles of his shoulders bunch through the sleeves of his robe. “Akalabeth,” he says, “is where the Prophecy will unfold.”
“But it needs three of us,” she replies. “Ulran was recalled back here by the Priesthood.” She shrugs slightly. “If they believe him te be of more use here than there, then the Prophecy cannae be that high a priority.”
A flicker of something crosses his face.
“Not te mention that we nay even know who the Third is…” she continues.
“Which is precisely why ye must return.”
“But…”
“No buts. Ye think ye can stay here and they’ll make ye a general? Yer dreamin’, child. Capable ye might be, but they’re nay ready fer a female general yet. Ye’ve done well te be the first female commander, and ye should be proud o’ that, but ye will always come up against obstacles that will stop ye from getting’ further.”
Cal grits her teeth in frustration. “Even if I get nay further, I can at least serve the army here. I am trained te fight, not te sit back in Strongholt twiddlin’ my thumbs while the general acts like a…” She scowls. “Like a Darkcloak.”
“Trained te fight ye may be, but ye were raised te serve Raza. And ye will serve Him by findin’ the Third.”
“Nayone in the army is interested in Raza any more, Father. Most of ‘em are Britannians.” Her top lips curls into a sneer. “And the others are Dondinian pussies.”
“Then ye have work te do, Cal.”
Distasteful as his words are to her, she knows that he is right. She lets out a long breath.
“Very well, Father. Sol Sil Eth, Sol Lat Eth.”
He nods, seemingly satisfied.
“But Father, I need summat from ye.”
He raises a brow. “Oh?”

She tells him.

[Cal Soulshadow]

Trancendence

The air is thick with the scent of congealing blood. She feels the heat upon her skin. The cleansing flame. The sealing blade.
She accepts the pain and draws it into herself. Pain becomes rage. Rage becomes energy. The fire burns anew.

The great star that has been carved into the floor of the Inner Sanctum is now crimson with her blood. Yet still she lives; still she stands.

Her father steps forward, a robe draped across outstretched arms. She takes it silently, and puts it on.

It is done.

One of the old priests looks at her with barely concealed disdain. She knows that he is dismayed to see a woman enter the order, but what can he do? She is the adopted daughter of Havarian Soulshadow, and she has been Chosen.

Kai

“You are back,” Kai says as she closes the door to her temporary quarters in Sandholt.
She goes to rub her arm, and then stops herself. The tattoos are fresh and have only just begun to scab. They are itching like crazy. “Aye.”
It has been almost two weeks since she went to Kaldor City to see her father. Two weeks since she has seen Kai. “I’m sorry, Kai. I cannae stay fer long. I want te, I really do but…” She sighs heavily. “I must return te Strongholt.”
A look of something like disappointment shows in his eyes for a moment, but is quickly gone.
“I would dearly love te stay, Kai, and fight alongside ye, but my duties lie elsewhere.” She grimaces slightly. “I nay have a choice.”
“I understand,” he says solemnly.
“But I will have te return here from time te time te see the Priesthood. And when I do, I will come and see ye. That I promise.”
“How long before you must go back?”
“Two days.” She kicks off her boots and then begins to unbutton her shirt. “We’d best make the most of ‘em eh?”
The shirt joins her boots on the floor, and Kai sees for the first time the red and black flames that snake up her arms from wrist to shoulder.
“As you wish,” he says, and begins to remove his armour.