Dedicated to mizmouse for giving my story a chance. Thank you!
2.
A Sarcastic Drink
Sianna had forgotten about the wounds on her arm until the icy wind nicked at her exposed skin. She shielded herself from the cold with her other arm and thanked the Saints the walk to the tavern was a short one. Six out of the twelve turns there was snow while the other half held ice or hail for them. Jabel was either white or blue, depending on the season.
It was a small town with a couple hundred residents which meant most people knew each other. There were only a dozen soldiers, the Leitnant included, stationed in the town which meant some of the townspeople worked in the barracks since there isn't enough personnel to keep it properly running.
That was how Sianna first met the villagers when she was sent to Jabel. The head cook was the brother of the tavern owner. The at times mischievous kids and teens that waxed the armor pieces and cleaned out chamber pots were the children of the merchants and grocers. The girls that cleaned the barracks and washed the linens were young mothers abandoned by their once lovers.
Sianna hugged her injured arm a little tighter, careful to avoid her chainmail pressing onto her flesh.
"How is the arm?" Aldermeck asked.
Sianna shrugged. "It's alright. I will treat it once we get to the tavern."
She smiled and turned to her Rhokin. "Deneck."
He faced her. "Yes, ser?"
"Have the barrack preparations been made?"
"Yes, ser. All was set accordingly. I checked on it myself before delivering the raven's letters to you today."
Aldermeck nodded.
Sianna looked ahead. The Leitnant was expecting company, the only time "preparations" were made to the barracks. Someone not too important since it wasn't the tower room that had been prepped.
She sighed and concentrated on her steps. The snow was starting to melt during the day, but it would freeze at night, forming ice on the exposed stone pathways. Sianna had slipped on it during her patrol that morning and Tiel had a good laugh. He also had a good fist to his face.
The tavern came into view. It was the only building that stood alone amidst the town's central area, and it was also the biggest, doubling as an inn. It was made of stone bricks with a wooden sign reading Nix's Head over the entrance. They entered and the warm air brought by two giant fireplaces washed over Sianna.
"Meryl, me girl!" boomed a baritone voice behind the bar. It was the tavern owner, Neil. He smiled at them, round cheeks blossoming out his face. "And Sianna, me girlie! Come in!"
Though it was only early in the afternoon, the tavern was half packed by men slipping in for a quick drink by a warm fire. Sianna and Aldermeck weaved through the tables heading toward the back where the bar was located. Deneck stayed behind and sat at a table occupied by someone he apparently knew.
"Neil," Aldermeck said as she leaned on the wooden bar. "We are off for this day. Serve us what you will. I shall pay for it all."
Neil laughed, the sound filling the whole room and then hollered at one of the serving girls to bring the good pitchers.
"Off, ser?" Sianna asked. "I still have duties to attend to. Tiel—"
"Tiel can handle it on his own" Aldermeck said. "And don't stand so stiffly. You're here to drink!"
Sianna gaped at her. "Leitn—"
She cut Sianna off. "Stop calling me Leitnant. You are one too now. Call me Meryl."
Aldermeck grinned when their pitchers arrived, accompanied by already filled mugs. She pulled her gloves off and stuck them into her belt before grabbing her mug.
Sianna wasn't sure how to react. "Le—Lein—"
"For fuck's sake, Sianna. Just have a drink!" She shoved the other tankard to her, spilling some of the foamy mess on the bar plane.
"Leitnant Aldermeck!" Sianna gasped at hearing her superior curse. That was only reserved for times when the Leitnant was unsatisfied with a subordinate's work. And they were always uttered with a cool fury that iced the recipient's blood.
Well, the Leitnant isn't exactly my superior anymore.
Sianna started laughing. She bowed her head, loose strands from her side braid falling over her face as she brought a hand to her lips.
"That's the spirit, Leitnant Rayoss!" Aldermeck cheered and raised her drink.
Sianna did the same between her dying chuckles. It was when she noticed her wounded arm, dried blood fanned on her skin like red rainbows.
"Wine!" she demanded. "Boil me some wine for these wounds!"
This time Aldermeck was the one caught in a fit of laughter. When the wine was delivered, Sianna pulled her shredded uniform sleeve to expose the gashes in their entirety.
"Pour it on me," she ordered the young serving girl. "Make sure to keep to the wounds."
"Whut, miss?" she asked, a horrified expression crawling over her red face.
"Do it, Meeka," Neil told her. "And she is no miss. Call her ser."
The girl nervously nodded. "Um, ser. Are you sure?"
"Yes," Sianna said, "or do you wish these to get worse?"
"No, s—ser."
The serving girl placed a metal serving plate under Sianna's outstretched arm and with her dirty apron clutched the hot handle of the wine pitcher. Her thin brown arms shook as she poured it over Sianna's injuries.
Sianna let out a hiss as the hot liquid smoldered her skin and filled her gashes. With her other arm, she reached across to her mug and began chugging her ale. Even after she finished her drink and the wine had dried on her skin, she could still feel the flaming lick of the hot wine. Maybe she should have waited it to cool some more.
"Sianna," Aldermeck said with a smile that could only be described as beautiful, "I'm sure the Citadel did well in choosing you as a Leitnant."
She refilled Sianna's cup and they both toasted to warmer days.
◌-◌-◌
Sianna's vision was a blurred flurry of serving girls coming and going and most of the noises she picked up were muffled snippets of laughter and nonsense, but she was sure the tavern evening rush had fallen. At least she was three pitchers sure which was three pitchers less than what Aldermeck had drunk.
She was folded over the bar, eyes glazed and plump lips pulled into a permanent smile. Aldermeck eased herself to stand and staggered to an empty chair from a nearby table. Sianna wasn't sure if Aldermeck had missed grasping the chair four of six times before she brought it over and plopped on it.
Sianna giggled. She had always found Aldermeck—No. Meryl now, right, Leitnant?—attractive. She sat with an adorable tilt to her head. But then again, Meryl was always attractive especially when her warm breath in the cold air would billow around her face like a white veil christening a gorgeous bride.
Sianna chuckled again. Saints she was drunk.
"Oh, Sianna dear. Remember when I taught you to talk?" Meryl drew out her words.
She perked at the sound of her name and brought her head up. "To talk?"
"You couldn't talk."
Sianna's eyes rolled as she tried to understand her. "I could always talk, ser."
Meryl straightened in her chair. "No call me 'ser'. Come. Sianna. To talk. You came to Jabel with 'mi'lord' and 'yessir' and 'oughta' and other none of sense. It's good I taught you to talk because you Leitnant now."
Sianna groaned. She didn't remember Meryl teaching her how "to talk" so much as the Leitnant's sheathed dagger slapping her hand when Sianna let a "yessir" or a "whut?" slip into her sentences.
"Ser Rayoss?"
Sianna's stiffened and felt a little more sober upon hearing Deneck's voice. She looked up at the Rhokin and saw another man standing next to him. He was tall, his long, black coat hanging like a shadow over him. There was a family crescent sewn to his right shoulder: a silver shield with a violet streak diagonally crossing it.
"Hello, Sianna. Congratulations on your promotion," the man said.
"Lycin." She gave him a tight–lipped smile. "Thank you."
So it was him the barrack preparations were for.
He leered at her with mint green eyes. "Shall I call you Leitnant now?"
She returned the stare, her lips curving into an actual smile. "No, you can wait until I obtain my cloak."
"Of course. When will we be meeting your Rhokin?"
Sianna's smile fell. Lycin scratched his square chin under his thin stubble, a grin of his own pulling his lips
"Tomorrow, tomorrow," Meryl sang and leaned forward on her chair, almost slipping in the process. Her head dropped forward. Deneck caught it with the palm of his hand and eased her back to her chair.
He cleared his throat. "Ser Rayoss," he said, "I invite you to your table. It appears Leitnant Aldermeck needs to be escorted back to her quarters and that duty shall be mine."
"My table?" Sianna asked.
"Yes." Lycin pointed to the large corner table where Tiel, Elkren, and other soldiers in Sianna's station were seated.
"Oh," she said and watched as Deneck approached Aldermeck. He scooped her in his arms bridal style as if she were a doll. Her chainmail rattled with his movements.
"May I ask how much drink you had, ser?" he asked her.
"Six," she said.
"Mugs?"
"Pichersss," she slurred and smiled.
He grinned at her.
"Fire in room...better," she mumbled, closing her eyes.
Deneck chuckled. "Of course, ser."
Sianna watched them walk away, Aldermeck's Leitnant cloak freely rustling under her.
"Do you need some help too?" Lycin asked Sianna, extending a hand.
She looked at him and pushed his offer away. "I'm fine."
The two made their way to the table where the occupants yelled and cheered at Sianna's arrival. She couldn't help but notice Tiel's swollen cheek that made his smile appear lopsided.
"About time the Leitnant let you go!"
"I've never seen her drunk at all. I guess she really is ready to go, huh?"
"Leitnant Rayoss!
"So eager tah get drunk yah didn't even take off yah chainmail, eh, Sianna?"
Sianna sat at one of the empty chairs and Tiel's calloused hand pushed her a mug of water to her across the table. "Leitnant Aldermeck said for us to drink up, but you need to make sure you still have your head tomorrow. As for us, well!"
The table exploded with cheers and Sianna's laughter added to it. The soldier next to her—a stubby man with a humble smile—stood up and donned on the chainmail he had draped over his chair.
"It's about time fer mah rounds," he said. His body was an uneasy sway of movements. "Sorry I cuhdn't celebray with you, Sianna, but congachulations, Leeent Rayoss."
Sianna nodded at him as he left. Good thing nothing hardly ever attacks this frozen town.
She was about to sneak a drink from Tiel's mug, even though she knew she shouldn't, when the empty chair next to her was pulled out. Lycin sat on it and smiled at her.
"How does one get burned out here?" He pointed at her arm.
She looked down at it. The skin around the claw incisions was an ugly red and the flesh of the gashes themselves had held on to the purple of the wine.
"Dragon." She smirked.
"Oh." He raised an eyebrow. "Was it ferocious?"
"Not too much since I was able to kill it."
"This must be the true cause for so much celebration then." He tipped his cup at her.
She didn't return the gesture. "How is Vess Wake, Lycin? Any dragons there?"
"No. It is a bore as always."
"Then you shouldn't have left it on my account."
"And disappoint our own dear Leitnant Aldermeck? She begged me to come, you know." Lycin took a sip. "Besides I'm sure the village of Vess Wake will be fine without me or Calera for a few days."
"Calera?" Sianna looked across the table in search of her.
She was at the end of it, a sitting statue with her gloved hands on her lap. She was thin, sickly looking with sunken cheeks that oddly emphasized the natural pucker of her lips. Her hair was the only thing lively about her. The black locks were wavy and lustrous under the light. Combined with the melancholy silver of her Rhokin eyes, Calera appeared like Lady Death herself.
Sianna shivered. She could stand being around Deneck, but Calera was on another level. Sianna could swear she had never seen the Rhokin blink.
Lycin leaned back on his chair. "She's happy for your promotion as well of course. Calera tells me she's eager to meet another fellow Rhokin."
Sianna rolled her eyes. She knew that girl never talked. It was all part of Lycin's pretentiousness simply because he was the only one of them from an actual house. Usually Sianna would answer his sarcasm with some of her own, but it was probably the unsaintly amount of ale in her that made her speak what she did instead.
"I don't care what you or your little Rhokin whore say," she said, leaning close to Lycin. She hoped he could smell the sour ale in her breath. "I am going to be your Leitnant soon and you're going to be doing what I tell you to do."
Lycin's eyes lightened with his smile. "I'm so glad to have come down here, Sianna," he said tucking back a strand of her brown hair behind her ear.
She slapped his hand away.
Lycin stood up and still looking at Sianna motioned for Calera to follow him. She followed, eyes staring straight ahead. Even in her uniform, she appeared frail, but Sianna knew Calera could easily snap her neck if she wanted to.
◌-◌-◌
Sianna didn't know how, but she somehow made it back to her barrack. The moonlight that shone through her window helped her stumble to the back of her room to light her fireplace. Light and warmth illuminated the drafty room, but she still tripped over the metal foot of her bathtub as she walked to her bed. Cursing, she hopped the rest of the way to the straw mattress and sat on it. She undressed, wincing when she accidently scratched her injury. Sianna gazed at it. She should have poured the wine herself. That serving girl got more of it on her skin than her wounds.
Sianna groaned and slipped under her fur covers. Her gaze focused on what they always did every night: the wooden bottom of the bed above hers. Her bed was the lowermost of a three set bunk bed. Originally, her room was supposed to house nine soldiers but that wasn't even half the soldiers stationed in Jabel. Each Guardsman had his own room and there were still empty rooms left over.
When Sianna had moved into these quarters, the other bunk beds had been pushed against the wall to give maximum room for personal things. She didn't have many. The only other furnishings were a wooden chair where she'd hang her chainmail, a trunk for her clothes and other belongs, and a borrowed bathtub and chamber pot.
Though she felt tired and quite drunk, Sianna couldn't find sleep. The more she tossed and turned, the thirstier she got until she couldn't stand it anymore. The kitchen was down the hall. She could probably steal a mug of water if it hadn't frozen already. She got out of bed and tossed on a coat before the frigid air set on her skin.
Sianna stepped out into the hallway that joined all the barrack rooms together with the kitchen and dining hall. A muffled grunting sound caught her ears. She held her breath and concentrated on it as she tried to figure out what it could be.
She crept down the hallway, passing by the closed doors of the other rooms as she followed the sound. It grew louder until she came to the room where it seemed to be coming from. The door to it was open a few inches.
Sianna peeked inside but couldn't see anything at first. The moonlight that draped in through the window shadowed more than it illuminated, but finally she could make out what was inside. What caught her attention first was the movement coming from the bottom bunk bed. It was occupied by two people, and the man on top was the source of the primal groaning she heard.
She grinned, figuring one of her companions had snagged one of the serving girls, but then she saw the girl's eyes flash with the moonbeam on her face. They were silver.
Calera.
Sianna recoiled. She and everyone else knew Lycin used his Rhokin in such a way but to actually see it gave her a new wave of nausea that had nothing to do with her setting hangover. She raced back to her room and sat on her bed.
Her eyes...
They had seemed cold and indifferent, uninterested in Lycin's use of her. There was no life in them, no purpose.
She stared at the floor.
Even Deneck's eyes appeared empty at times, but should there even be any life in them? Rhokins possessed no real life. They weren't born. They were only dolls, magickal creations of the king's wizard.
Sianna sighed. She wasn't stupid. She knew Rhokins were needed all the same. They were the only ones that could fight against the Magus monster that had mysteriously appeared over thirty years ago. The monsters that killed her mother. The damn Rhokins were the only ones that could kill them.
And tomorrow I'm to receive my very own.
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Author's Note: Hello there. ^-^
First of all, thank you very much for taking interest in my story. I appreciate it. I'm writing this as I go, so please feel free to point out any inconsistencies or really anything that seems off to you. This is my first time writing fantasy, so please tell me if I start info dumping on you. Also...sorry for my typos. I'm terrible with typos. >__<
I do have another story I'm working on which is part of my Dark Bloods Trilogy. It's my main baby and I may update it more than this story, but I plan on updating Calathus at least once every two weeks. Maybe more if I'm on a roll. Hehe.
Thank you for reading! I do hope you're enjoying Calathus! Exciting stuff is coming! :D
(At least I hope it's exciting. Hah.)
Drawing: Calera