Chapter 20 #2
“This just reminds me of back when we first moved into this fort. It took probably close to a year before we had all the damage repaired enough that the dakii stopped getting in. I was maybe nine? Ten? My father didn’t let me leave his side unless I was training.
” Vaneshta took a slow breath. “It felt like this, like things were on the precipice of falling apart.”
Iryana sat next to her on the bed, body rigid with discomfort.
“I think we established the Dovaki post around the same time.” She cleared her throat.
“There’s a steep, hanging cliff on the edge of the Yuresh valley, and at the top is where we settled.
Once we tore apart the switchback road that had led to the little village that had been there from before, it was impossible to see the post from the valley floor—and very difficult to get up there. ”
Iryana fiddled with the edge of her shirt, taking another breath before she could continue. “Mostly, we relied on that to keep the dakii out. It worked most of the time, but when it didn’t…”
“Death,” Vaneshta supplied.
Iryana nodded. “So then we built the wall and the watchtowers. The dakii haven’t breached it since.”
“We’re all survivors, regardless of what side of the wall we’re from. And survivors rely on each other.” Vaneshta gave her a pointed look.
Iryana looked at her carefully and nodded. Panic started to surge through her, fear that this would end up like it always did, but Iryana fought it down. She didn’t have a choice, and it wouldn’t be for long.
Vaneshta leaned back a bit, groaning. “I hope things here settle down soon.”
Iryana doubted it, but she nodded anyway. Karvek was preparing for war, and things would only get worse if someone didn’t stop him.
“What’s your power, Vaneshta?”
Vaneshta shrugged. “I figure if you can’t beat me, you can’t tell me what to do. And I’m better than most. I make myself useful.”
It made sense.
“You just need to figure out how to claim your power.”
“Maybe I should start by fighting better with the team,” Iryana admitted. The words burned in her throat.
Vaneshta nodded, and her small mouth tipped into a smile. “I can help with that.”
The door opened, and Iryana turned, expecting to see Pepha returning, but it was Lidishta standing there.
“What do you want?” Vaneshta snapped, sitting up straighter on the bed.
Iryana stepped closer to Vaneshta, ready to send the bossy little initiate out.
Lidishta looked unsure. She hovered there in the doorway for a moment before stepping forward, placing a small jar on the edge of the table.
“The brigade needs more soldiers like you,” she said, still sounding haughty. Then turned and left. The door shut loudly behind her.
“What the fuck?” Vaneshta frowned.
Iryana opened the jar of greenish-brown water and held it to her nose, picking out a distinctly fresh, sweet smell. It was far more aromatic than it should have been.
“It’s earth-imbued medicine,” she told Vaneshta, blinking with surprise. “It’s burningleaf root tea. With…” She took a sniff. “Fireweed?”
An expensive thing to trade for.
“She brought me medicine?” Vaneshta said with disbelief.
“You should drink it; this will help.”
Iryana handed her the jar, but Vaneshta just stared at it. “You sure it’s not poison?”
“I used to make burningleaf root tea with my mom,” she answered stiffly, forcing her memories to stay where they were. “I would recognize the smell anywhere.”
“Well then, bottoms up.” Vaneshta threw the jar back, chugging the tea down.
Thanks to the medicinal tea, Vaneshta healed from her injuries quickly, and thanks to the fight that gave her those injuries, the new soldiers had gained respect for Vaneshta.
Their team had a bit more peace, and no one else had challenged the team rankings—though Iryana didn’t care a bit about them.
Things were otherwise continuing as they had been.
Pyetar trained with his new team, quiet and distant unless someone needed correction.
Karvek did whatever he did behind closed doors, although he had greeted Iryana in the hall twice, hand squeezing her shoulder.
He had looked tired every time she’d seen him, getting whatever plans he had in motion.
Pyetar hadn’t come to her to do anything about those plans, but she assumed he was monitoring his brother somehow.
She couldn’t be bothered with the secrets of the Horvol brothers; if they wanted something from her, they knew where to go.
Instead, she put all her energy into training with her team.
She sparred with Vabihn and drank his favorite vodka with him.
Worked on footwork with Shahn and sucked up to him by helping his little sister with her chores.
Practiced archery with Mezhimar and taught him how to make his own bow-string.
Ran obstacle courses with Pepha and learned about her late husband.
And Vaneshta watched her every move, providing corrections and feedback.
Their whole team ran through drills and scenarios even in their free time.
Iryana felt like a different person. One who almost had friends.
Just shy of three weeks after Karvek returned as general, her team was sent on their most dangerous mission yet. It was time to prove that all the work she’d been doing was paying off.
“We’re getting closer to the valley,” Pyetar called back.
Iryana eyed him for an overlong moment. He was ignoring her and acting even more standoffish than usual.
They were patrolling the forest south of the fort that morning, which was normally an uneventful trip. But instead of just her team, like the last few times they’d gone that way, they marched with two full squads.
The shade of the trees was chilly, but the sun was warm when it landed on her. The forest teemed with life, buzzing bees and scurrying critters accompanying the sounds of grass and sticks crunching beneath their feet.
After weeks of working closely with Vaneshta and the others, she felt like she had a good grasp of the techniques. But with the more dangerous missions, with more soldiers, the formations and strategies were much more complicated. She was nervous.
Before they prepared to set out, Pyetar had gone over the marching formation and plans for the mission, and Iryana kept repeating them in her head. She would not fail.
There were large packs of dakii moving through the southern valley—thankfully far from the Dovaki post to the fort’s east—but supplies needed to be brought to one of the brigade’s bases on the other side. It couldn’t wait, so here they were.
Time was slipping away so quickly. The days were growing shorter, and while the peak of summer was still ahead of them, it didn’t feel like she had enough time. Something needed to change or she would lose her opportunity to be let into the brigade. She couldn’t wait much longer.
Iryana was near the back with Vaneshta, in the rear-guard.
There were other archers near them, alternating who had their metal-forged bow formed so they always had someone ready, but they didn’t all drain their magic too quickly.
They would be marching for a long time, and it was important to reserve as much magic as possible.
Every few hundred paces, the head archer would signal, and those who’d been resting their magic formed their bows and quickly strung them, the others only releasing their forgings once the others were ready, tossing the bow-strings over their shoulders.
Iryana looked at their bows, imagining the one she might one day have. If she were ever forged.
“If the dakii come from our right?” Vaneshta pointed to the side, continuing to quiz her.
“We hang back, provide cover from here, until Pyetar tells us to march again.”
“From the back?”
“Fire and move to the left, only engage until the center group can come back and engage with the dakii. Then we retreat to a good firing distance and provide cover from there.” It wasn’t hard to recite, after all the plans Vaneshta had shown her.
It was all patterns. Remembering in the heat of the moment would be different.
Everything about this march felt different; there were roles and formations, and it was far beyond anything she had learned as a guardian.
Pyetar was up ahead, the mission lead, talking with the guide next to him who held the map.
Two soldiers walked on either side of the group’s flank, slipping through the trees as they scanned their sides of the forest, looking back to Pyetar every few steps.
The rear point followed further back in the trees, watching behind them, and a scout kept an eye further ahead.
She knew the soldiers were watching for dakii, watching Pyetar, but she felt surrounded; like she was being watched. So she went back to thinking about what she would forge when she earned her place.
“Do any of the soldiers have forged arrows?” Iryana hadn’t heard of forging arrows before, but a metal-forged bow wasn’t much more useful than an air-forged one.
Sure, they were stronger, and the arrows hit harder, but the metal-forged bows still had to be full-sized, and regular arrowheads struggled to pierce the dakii’s tough skin.
Vaneshta frowned. “Not that I know of. You would need a lot of control to send your magic that far, and you wouldn’t be able to keep that up for long. It would wear you out constantly pushing your forgings that far away.”
But if someone had enough control of their magic… Iryana hadn’t seen another unforged who could hold their shield as tightly formed as she could. Would that translate to forged magic though?
They fell into silence as they kept walking. It was… not uncomfortable.