Chapter 9
NINE
It’s the middle of the night. I would have expected the base to be quiet while everyone gets a restful sleep so they can continue their warring ventures in the morning.
Instead, most of the airmen who returned from their mission are up and partying. A few buildings are lit up, and music blares from inside. I almost bump into a few inebriated males as they stumble around and make crass jokes.
Damn it.
I require a quiet place to concentrate on establishing a connection with my brother. Without my abilities, I don’t even know how this is going to work. But it’s worth a try.
And if it doesn’t work, then I’ll have to call him the old-fashioned way.
“Why is there nowhere to go fishing around here?” A male groans.
I hide behind a building.
“Lower your voice, Gabe.”
“Why should I?” he shouts loudly. “Why? I might as well die tomorrow. Why can’t I get laid before?”
“Gabe! Shhh.” A pause. “Major Vitry,” he suddenly says, his voice taking a serious note.
I peek around the corner and see Vitry facing two males who attempt to maintain a straight posture but fail as they sway from side to side.
“Major,” Gabe slurps the word.
“Go to bed,” Vitry says with a sigh.
“Why should I?” Gabe counters.
“Because I said so, and I outrank you, Soldier.”
“Gabe, please. You’ll get in trouble,” the other male says, pulling on Gabe’s sleeve.
“I don’t care. Even better. I’m done with this! I’m never going up again. I’m too fucking young to die.”
Vitry takes a step toward him.
“You’re too young to die?” he asks, his voice low and tense. “And what makes you more special than the eighteen-year-old we lost today? What makes you more special than any of the other men in here?”
“I didn’t sign up for this. I…” he mumbles.
“Let me guess. You signed up for the rewards with none of the sacrifices, am I right?”
Gabe’s mouth opens and closes before he eventually shakes his head.
“You wanted to be a hero, but you’re not willing to do the heroic thing.” Vitry lets out a dry laugh.
“Dying isn’t heroic,” Gabe whispers.
“Isn’t it? Why do you think there are thousands of soldiers dying every day then? Why so many other thousands risk death every day?”
Gabe doesn’t reply, so Vitry continues.
“They risk it all because they know it makes a difference. Their sacrifice saves lives. Maybe you didn’t sign up for this, but do you think those poor people signed up to be butchered by the Germans, too? Do you think they signed up to have their land stolen and their people subjugated by fucking Nazis?”
“But I want to live, too,” Gabe whispers.
“Then live.” Vitry shrugs. “Go ahead. Run out of here. Go and live your worthless little life like a coward. It’s no skin off my back. “
He takes a step back and waits.
Neither male moves. They stare guiltily at Vitry.
“Well? What’s it going to be?”
Gabe swallows.
“I don’t want the Nazis to win,” he mutters in a low, barely audible voice. “I fucking hate Nazis.”
“Me too,” the other male whispers.
“Then go back to your barracks, get some sleep, and on your next mission, remember why you’re flying.”
He turns and walks away.
I quickly move back so he doesn’t see me as he heads toward the west of the base. As I get further and further away from the military barracks, I can’t help but replay that conversation in my mind.
That male’s speech was not bad. It certainly did the job of making those soldiers realize the stakes of the war. Though I’m still mad at him for his role in me losing my powers, I have to begrudgingly admit that he is a…decent leader.
Once there are no more people around, I sneak off in search of a more secluded place.
It takes me some ten minutes of walking in circles around the base to find a quiet spot.
Taking a deep breath, I concentrate on Molokai’s energy signature. Of course, without my powers, I can barely sense it. But that doesn’t deter me from trying to reach out to him.
“Kai? I need you,” I say aloud. “If you could put aside your anger with me for a moment and come, I would really appreciate it.”
Crickets.
“It’s really important. I think I’ve stumbled onto something here.”
I wait.
Once more, the only sound that greets me is the symphony of music and loud voices coming from the base.
I mutter a curse under my breath and try again.
“Uhm, Kai? I think there’s a demon here. Maybe a high-ranking one,” I say again, doing my best to focus on my voice reaching him.
Of course nothing happens.
Ugh!
Couldn’t he have at least left an open channel for communication? He didn’t have to shut me out completely.
When he doesn’t reply after I call out to him for the tenth time, I realize my only recourse is to physically summon him here.
I let out a sigh. I didn’t want to do this since it will physically yank him from wherever he is and bring him here. That means he will not be happy with me.
Rummaging through my bag, I take out a knife and press the pointy tip to the inside of my forearm.
Digging the blade inside my flesh, I carve out Kai’s personal symbol. That, combined with my blood, will send out the signal and summon him here. This method is usually frowned upon, and only very few people know a god’s personal symbol to be able to summon him. But Kai and I are close enough that we know each other’s symbol.
I bite my lower lip in pain as I finish carving out the symbol, and as blood pools to the surface of the wound, drops of it dripping to the floor, I mentally prepare myself for his arrival.
Not two seconds later, he’s in front of me. He’s sporting a scowl that only deepens when he sees the wound on my arm.
“What do you think you’re doing, Minerva?” he barks out.
My lips tremble as I force a smile.
“You didn’t answer my call. This was the only way to reach you.”
He narrows his eyes at me. He’s dressed in his battle gear, and there is dried blood all over his clothes.
Oops. I might have summoned him mid-battle.
“This better be important, Minerva.”
“It is!” I protest. “Really important.”
“Well?” He crosses his arms over his chest.
I clear my throat.
“I think there’s a demon here. A high-ranking one. Maybe a Son of Tenebreis,” I tell him excitedly.
He tilts his head to the side as he watches me.
“So?”
“So?” I echo. “This is huge , Kai!”
“And how would you know that without your powers?”
“Because souls are missing!” I exclaim.
I give him a quick rundown of what happened in the infirmary earlier today and how three souls had vanished.
“Souls don’t just vanish! I didn’t even see them come out of the bodies of the deceased.”
He clicks his tongue against his teeth. “That is unusual.”
“Right? There must be something here.”
“Except I cannot sense any demon in the surrounding area.”
I blink. Without my powers, my senses are not as strong as before. But still, the missing souls alone are an indication that something odd is happening here.
“But there is no other explanation! There has to be something…”
“Minerva.” He sighs. “If this is your way of getting me to return your powers to you, then you are making a mistake. It is not in my power to do so since your punishment was mandated by the House of Moirai.”
“But surely you can see that something’s happening here! Think about it. It could be a Son of Tenebreis, Kai. They can also hide their energy signatures.”
Kai rolls his eyes.
“The presence of Sons of Tenebreis on Anthropa is a myth, Minerva.”
“But Commander Azerius said?—”
“He does not have any proof for it. There might be some Sons of Tenebreis who were not in Tartareia when it was sealed off. And there might be some that can temporarily leave. But there is no indication they would come to Anthropa.”
“There’s the war. A lot of souls, isn’t that right?” I add weakly.
This isn’t going how I envisioned it.
“Anthropa is not the only world ravaged by war.”
“But, Kai?—”
“You are not getting your powers back until the end of your punishment, Minerva. Do not try to circumvent that. It will not work. Since you decided to stay in Anthropa, you’re on your own.”
He gives me a harsh look before he flashes himself out of sight.
I blink.
That’s…it?
I don’t understand. Shouldn’t he at least look into this? Missing souls is not a trifling matter. It never happens without a reason. So what if he cannot sense a demonic presence nearby? I’m sure there must be something. And I aim to prove it.
So I will show both Kai and Commander Azerius that I can operate even under extreme duress, even without my powers. After all, I came first in my theoretical classes. I know plenty of chants and rituals that might aid me. It’s just a matter of finding a source of energy to fuel them.
Still annoyed by Kai’s lack of faith in me, it takes me a while to realize that my wound isn’t healing properly. It’s still bleeding, and it hurts.
Damn it all, but it really hurts.
Would I get fired if I snuck into the infirmary to steal some bandages?
Since I’ve come here, it seems that thieving is all I’ve been doing. But how else would I survive when this world is not only at war, but I also happen to be an unemployed female with little to no resources?
Well, I am employed now , but I might not be in the morning if I get caught. Still, I am not used to such pain and I do not think I can go back to bed with this bleeding injury. Even sleep-deprived as I am, I doubt I would be able to close my eyes.
Muttering another string of curses at my current circumstances, I trudge my way to the infirmary.
In and out. It should be simple.
I wrestle with the door lock for a few moments but finally, I am in.
Going straight to the medicine cabinet, I grab an aspirin—this should be good for pain, no? Then I rummage for some bandages.
The light inside of the infirmary flickers to life.
I freeze.
Who the hell is here at this hour?
Of course my first instinct is to hide somewhere, but as I tiptoe my way around the room, I hear a voice.
“You don’t need to hide.”
I stop in my tracks.
Slowly, I turn and find myself face-to-face with Vitry.
The last person I wanted to see now.
“What are you doing here?” I burst out.
“I should ask you the same.” He raises a brow. “It’s the middle of the night. What are you doing here?”
“I… Uhm…”
“Don’t tell me you’re a Nazi spy, tiny darling.”
My eyes widen. That’s the last thing I needed—get fired and be accused of espionage. I’ve heard about the abominable treatment of war spies. If I were to be imprisoned and tortured for being a spy on top of everything else that’s already happened to me already… I shudder just thinking about it.
Then again, wouldn’t the House of Moirai have a laugh at my expense if that were to happen?
“Me? A Nazi spy? How could that be…” I mutter nervously.
“Brilliant plan, really. Send a fresh-faced beauty to sabotage our healthcare,” he drawls.
“I’m not a spy,” I cry out. But then I realize he called me a fresh-faced beauty.
My cheeks flame.
No one’s ever called me that before. Or a beauty…
But that’s beside the point!
I avert my gaze so he doesn’t notice my blush. Heat unfurls inside of me at the compliment. In Aperion, I am hardly a beauty. If I were, I wouldn’t have to resign myself to marrying Captain Clown.
But maybe humans have different standards. Or this human has faulty eyesight. It’s been known to happen.
His amusement fades as he takes in my bleeding arm.
“What in God’s name happened to you?” he demands. In a few strides, he’s in front of me, grabbing my arm to inspect it.
“Why isn’t it healing?”
“W-what?”
“Why isn’t the bleeding stopping?” He clears his throat.
“I… Well, I was looking for a bandage,” I admit.
“This looks grisly,” he mentions with a grimace. “Come.”
I don’t have time to protest as he seats me on a chair at the back of the room so we’re far away from the patient ward. He looks through the cabinets until he finds a roll of bandage and some disinfectant and then he’s back at my side.
“How did this happen?” he asks as he pours the disinfectant over my wound.
I purse my lips as I think of what lie to concoct. The wound is clearly in the shape of an odd symbol, so it’s not as if I can tell him I accidentally cut myself. It looks on purpose.
“I was playing with a knife and didn’t realize how sharp it was,” I lie.
Then again, I also did not realize how slow my healing would be now that I’m without my spiritual energy.
“You dummy,” he mumbles. “You could have hurt yourself so bad.”
“Dummy?” I narrow my eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
His lips quirk up.
“It’s nothing bad, tiny darling.” He winks at me.
“Stop calling me that,” I grumble.
He smirks.
“What should I call you then? Minerva or… Mina?”
“M-Mina,” I say and gulp down uncertainly. “It’s Mina.”
“Mina?”
“Yes. Do you have a problem with it?”
“Doesn’t really suit you,” he mentions.
What? It doesn’t suit me?
I glare at him.
“Now don’t take this the wrong way, tiny darling.”
“How am I supposed to take it when you’re telling me my name doesn’t suit me?”
It’s a pretty name. Prettier than Minerva anyway. But now his words are making me doubt it.
He chuckles.
“Mina is much too tight-laced and somber when you’re anything but that.”
I continue to glare at him as I wait for him to insult me some more. He’s done that from the moment we met.
“What am I then?”
“You’re a little troublemaker,” he says with a smile.
There! I was right. First, he called me an odd duck—I still have not forgotten that, though he tried to explain it’s an idiom or whatever—and now he calls me a troublemaker.
“I am not!” I burst out. “I am a perfectly respectable working lady,” I say with a humph.
“A perfectly respectable working lady?” He laughs. “One who pranks soldiers with dead rats, steals food, and then lies about being a nurse? Oh, and let us not forget about this incident right here,” he says as he pours some more disinfectant over my wound and wipes the blood away.
“W-what?” I stammer.
Certainly, he did see me steal food and use the dead rat as a weapon of distraction. But how would he know that I’m lying about being a nurse? Even the doctor was fooled by my perfect impression of one.
“I am a nurse,” I feel compelled to add.
“Sure, sure, Minnie darling. You are a nurse—one who doesn’t know how to bandage a small wound.”
“But I do! I patched you up, didn’t I?” I protest, nearly jumping out of my seat. He holds me still, not letting me go anywhere.
“Shoddily.”
I blink. I do not know what that means, but I am not about to make a fool of myself and ask. I’ll just assume it’s something bad.
“It was my first day,” I mutter.
He merely smiles.
I scowl at him. But then it registers how he called me.
Minnie darling.
“My name is Mina, not Minnie,” I tell him squarely. “Just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean you can change it.”
“Minnie suits you better. It’s cute, just like you.” He winks at me.
My eyes widen.
I swallow.
He thinks I’m…cute?
Heat travels up my neck.
“It’s still not my name,” I argue weakly.
“Sure, Minnie,” he replies in an amused tone.
“You! Stop that!”
“No can do, Minnie darling. Besides”—he pauses to clear his throat—“it rhymes better.”
“Rhymes better with what?”
He starts whistling as he rolls the bandage over my wound. He doesn’t reply to me.
“Rhymes with what, you infuriating male?” I demand again.
“I’ll let you figure that out,” he tells me.
Oh, no. I barely have a good grasp of this English language as it is. How am I going to figure out what he means? Although, coming from him, it’s probably another insult.
“You’re awful,” I bristle.
“Maybe, but I am taking care of your wound, aren’t I?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You never have to ask,” he adds cryptically.
I give him another harsh look, but I’m at a loss for words—shocking, no? But since I don’t have a comeback to his odd behavior, I decide to get him back the only way I can—by making fun of his name too.
“I don’t know how you can comment on my name when people call you Vitry, Lucien !” I say pointedly, proud of myself for remembering his name.
“So you remember my name?” he asks with a wicked grin on his face.
My first instinct is to wipe it away with my fist. Alas, I am in a rather awkward position on this chair while he’s tending to my arm, so I would just end up hurting myself.
“I have a good memory,” I reply and push my chin up.
“Glad you found me worthy to keep in your memory.”
“Stop making everything about you !”
I’ve never met someone with a bigger ego and that’s saying something since I happen to be engaged to Captain Clown.
“I’m not. You’re the one who brought it up first.”
“Because you made fun of my name!”
“Fun isn’t the right word, Minnie,” he states in a somber voice. “I was, in fact, complimenting you.”
Aha, as if I’d fall for that. He probably noticed my low level of English and he’s trying to take advantage of that.
“Well, then guess what,” I say, feeling petty. “I was not complimenting you on your name. What type of name is Vitry even? It doesn’t sound good.”
He shrugs.
“It’s my family name and what everyone calls me.”
“I’m not everyone. I will not utter such an ugly name.”
He quirks his brows at me.
Did I go too far by saying his name is ugly? At least his insults were veiled as compliments, whereas I straight-up told him his name is ugly.
Well, I have already said that. It’s not as if I can take it back.
“You can call me something else if you’d like,” he mentions with a glint in his eyes. “Something special.”
“I’d rather not call you at all,” I grumble.
“Such a grumpy little thing you are.” He chuckles.
“I am not grumpy. I just happen to dislike being insulted.”
“And I just told you I was complimenting you,” he counters.
“Ugh. Whatever. Are you done?” I ask as I look down at my arm. He’s finished bandaging my wound, and though it still hurts a little, the pressure of the bandage makes it more bearable.
Jumping off the chair, I put some distance between us.
“Thank you,” I mumble.
I might dislike him, but he did help me, so I can’t be too mean to him—though there’s nothing I’d like to do more. I’m not sure why he annoys me so much. I’m not one to usually be so rattled—all right, that might be stretching it. I admit I might have a temper, but I usually keep it in check. I am an ice deity, after all. I’m supposed to be cool and collected.
Supposed being the key word.
“You’re welcome, Minnie.”
I roll my eyes at him.
“Admit it. It’s cute,” he continues.
“I will admit no such thing,” I tell him, though I can’t stop myself from smiling. I suppose it is quite a cute name. Not that I’m accepting it. It’s just an observation.
“Truce?” he asks and extends his hand toward me. “We’ll be seeing each other a lot from now on. It would help to be on friendly terms.”
“But not too friendly,” I note.
He doesn’t reply, still holding out his hand for me. I suspect he wants me to grab it in one of those handshakes humans do.
I slide my hand into his much bigger one, and a current of electricity bursts through me. I gulp down at the uncomfortable feeling, but I don’t pull my hand away.
“Mine,” he suddenly says, tightening his hold over my hand.
I frown.
“You can call me Mine.”
I blink.
“Is that your middle name or something?”
He smiles and nods.
“I’m only allowing you to use it. Since you’re not everyone.”
“That’s…nice of you,” I murmur.
Why is it suddenly so warm in here? Why are my cheeks flaming hot?
“You will, right? Use it, I mean?” he asks, a little flustered.
“Only I can use it?” I ask to clarify. I rather like the sound of that.
“Only you.” He nods.
“Fine. Then I shall call you Mine.”
His lips stretch into a wide smile.
I stare into his green eyes, unable to move.
“Go to sleep, Minnie. I’ll see you later.”
Too tired to argue with him, I don’t bother to correct him anymore about my name. Instead, I just pull my hand back—my palm still tingles.
“Fine, Mine. I’ll see you later,” I murmur.
As I leave the infirmary, I ponder on our conversation. His middle name is Mine—an odd name for a human, if you ask me. Still, it is much better sounding than Vitry. Or even Lucien.
But something niggles at my mind.
Mine.
Mine…
Mine!
My eyes widen in realization.
Is this why he had an issue with calling me Mina? Because our names are the same save for the last letter?
I nod to myself. That makes more sense.
Maybe he wasn’t trying to be rude. Instead, he didn’t want us to have the same names—or too similar.
Yes, that must be it.
Somehow, that makes me feel better. That and the fact that he promised me I am the only one who can call him by his middle name. I do quite like to be special like that. And as a thank you, I’ll even let him use Minnie instead of Mina—just him, though.
I giggle to myself as I slide into bed.
Perhaps he’s not all that bad.
Mine… His name even rolls easily off my tongue.