home

search

#24 - Playing the Right Role

  Like many cities, Odlassi showed a different scene with the sun out of sight. Gone were the crowds, only lanterns filled the roads.

  A light breeze fanned chilly air across the city. Voices and sounds were sporadic and faint but unlike Shonona, Conon and Onyl didn’t have to converse with indoor voices.

  “So what’s the plan?” Conon asked as they strolled down a road. “What can we teach him, especially this late?”

  “Is it not obvious?” Onyl responded. “If he is to be a part of our team, he must learn how we move and operate. He was awful days ago with those hicks, coordination should be foremost in mind.”

  “Hmm, I guess you’re right. His footwork’s okay, so it shouldn’t be too bad.”

  “We shall see.”

  The two stopped to look back at a shaken Quin on his hands and knees. The trip back to earth had its effect on him. Even though he knew deep down the heights wouldn’t harm him, deep down they still disturbed him.

  With the ground obscured in the darkness of night, he thought his anxieties would be subdued.

  Instead the ground was an open chasm that simply worsened his fears. Not wounded in any way from the drop, his mind still had to recover.

  Onyl went back to her discomposed colleague and crouched down in front of him. Her hand disappeared behind her when it returned with a white ball presented to Quin.

  “Look at me,” she ordered. “Tell me what this is.”

  Quin’s vision was still wobbly. “Uh, what?”

  “I just explained it to you up above, Quin.” She brought it closer to his face. “Telll me what this is.”

  Quin focused on the orb until his mind conjured an answer.

  “A...an Ocer It’s one of those Ocers. They contain bits of aura to help...to help us when our powers are limited.”

  Onyl’s scowl intensified. “I already know that. What does this one do?”

  The only thing in Quin’s head were the awful memories of two years ago, the pain of his injury, and its aftermath.

  His view returned to the ground and Onyl clutched the sphere as she closed her eyes and exhaled.

  “Do you think everyone will give you time to steel your nerves? If simple jumps are enough to rattle you, then you will not last as a Cosondere nor a Sentar’i”

  Conon appeared to say something, but decided to hold his tongue.

  “I’ll get it right,” said Quin with his face down. His hands curled to a ball. “I will.”

  Onyl simply sighed. “This is the Lume Ocer. The aura inside spins to light up. Especially helpful at times like this.” She shoved it in Quin’s hands. “Take it, and don’t forget next time.”

  “Whoa what about you, miss shadow artist?” Conon asked. “Wouldn’t you need it most of all?”

  Onyl rose up and reached behind her back to display another one from her cloak. “Did you think I would only have one?”

  Incredibly light to hold, Quin felt like he had an empty device. He held it firmly as he returned to his feet.

  Onyl took a few steps away from her team and stated, “I know a decent place where we can work things out. Should be deserted this late.”

  She squeezed her Ocer, and it emitted a glow over her glower. “Follow me.”

  She at once dashed off; her partners followed after her. In seconds they were out of the city and onto the open fields.

  Odlassi and its towers were still in view but as silhouettes with small glimmers of light.

  The three Tyrovivs traveled down the coast until Onyl found a suitable place. She stopped along a small hillside that laid parallel to a narrow beach. Quin and Conon caught up as Onyl pressed her orb to put the light out.

  The crickets nearby chatted with each other nonstop. Their noises were supplemented with random owl calls and sprinkled with small waves that caressed the shore.

  “This should do,” Onyl said before she turned to Quin. “When we come across opposition, we employ certain tactics and maneuvers dependent on the situation. Each of us have a role to play and you need to understand yours.”

  Onyl’s face couldn’t be seen in the darkness, but undoubtedly, she sported a tense expression. Quin listened intently.

  “We will simulate some exercises and I will give you instructions. Pay extra attention since visibility is hindered.”

  “Whoa hold on,” Conon interrupted as he pointed at the bay. “You see something movin’ ‘n the water?”

  Three wooden boats slowly sailed up the coast, all with no light to reveal themselves. Even though Odlassi could be spotted, they approached the beach and the trio.

  The Tyrovivs dropped down to the dirt and used the hill to conceal their figures. The boats docked and in seconds, each one had their crew pour out in a rush.

  The men about ten in number, lined themselves up from the deck to the sand.

  They handed each other a series of small crates to stack up on the beach. A handful more carried small torches around the crew to shed some light on their progress.

  Besides the fact that the act occurred in darkness, it looked like a mundane activity. The covert nature of their task however, drew obvious suspicion.

  From their prone position on the hill, Quin and Onyl looked on while Conon, lain in between, peered into his head for a plan.

  “Alright, here’s the deal,” Conon whispered. “I’ll go ‘n’ get their attention, try ‘n’ see what they’re up to. Onyl, you go back to town ‘n’ inform the watch.”

  “Out of the question,” she protested.

  “You think Quin can find his way back here fast enough? Besides, what can you do wit’ the sun gone?”

  “I can distract them. You can make yourself invisible and sneak up on them.”

  “You know I don’t like usin’ my ghost arts like that.”

  “Unless you can bring Coty back, there are no better options. Enough arguing, we move noowww.”

  This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “Wait wait what about me?” Quin asked. “What should I do?”

  The two turned to Quin before they turned to each other. Onyl had already made up her mind, so Conon was forced to plan around it.

  “Just keep back ‘n’ keep low for now brother. If worst comes to worst, go back to Odlassi ‘n’ find the watchfolk. It shouldn’t get that bad though.”

  Quin didn’t approve. He wanted to be out there too. The circumstances weren’t the same as his last scuffle though and he understood that.

  As much as it bothered him to be left out, he sought to be a team player.

  He affirmed with slow nods. “I understand.”

  With a plan in agreement, the Tyrovivs moved at once. Conon phased himself out of sight while Onyl scanned around until she found a stick and some stones.

  She wedged the wooden limb between her feet while in one swoop, swiped the rocks against each other and produced a quick flame.

  That instantly alerted the suspicious crew and Onyl made her presence known.

  “What sort of business is this?” she asked as she neared the crew.

  Her torch, larger than the rest, revealed frightened faces. They froze in their sleeveless shirts and tattered up pants, hesitant how to act around the sullen Cosondere.

  One among them slowly walked up to Onyl with his own torch while the rest placed all their cargo at their feet.

  “Excuse our appearance ma’am,” mentioned an older man. “We were on our way home when we were caught up in a storm earlier. We mean no ill-will. We just had to organize ourselves a little.”

  “Why out here when Odlassi is literally in view?”

  “Well the thing about that ma’am is these ports keep opening and closing out of nowhere, so we really just wanted to get to land and get our supplies in order.”

  “In the middle of the night? Why not perform these actions at your destination?”

  The man had no answer for Onyl when out of the larger boat, walked two individuals.

  As they approached her, the crew quickly and fearfully moved out of their way. The torch unveiled their appearance.

  One was a young man about Onyl’s age. Large braids poked out of his head while resentment covered his face.

  The other was a taller, middle aged man with more hair on the back of his head than the front. He also posed an unfriendly face and together with his younger associate, they showed no fear.

  “Is there a problem?” asked the older of the two.

  Onyl returned their sullen faces with one of her own. “Everything about what I have seen tells me yes.”

  The younger of the two walked around her. “There’s always a problem when it comes to you cloaks, isn’t there?”

  The Cosondere took a few steps back. “We are not in the business of starting problems. We are however, in the business of fixing them.”

  “Some big talk coming from a lowly cloak on their own,” said the older man as he slowly paced up to her. “So forward while you continue to step back. How much further do you plan to go before you finish your flight?”

  Onyl continued her slow retreat. The two men stayed within torchlight while the boats and their crew blended back into the dark.

  They returned to their operation, but in reverse. They conveyed the crates back onboard and at a faster pace than before.

  One rushed over to pick up a crate when they felt a sudden tug.

  “Hope you don’t mind we take one for our troubles.” Conon voiced in the dark before his figure appeared.

  Panic possessed the crew and in no time, confusion halted their progress. The two men shifted their attention to the chaos behind them. Onyl saw her chance.

  She rushed up between the two and raised her torch as high as she could. The taller of the two men tried to respond, but discovered he couldn’t move his feet, a dark shade kept him in place.

  Half of her problems solved, Onyl charged against the braid-headed lad when she too had her movements blunted. Some solid invisible structure kept her beyond arm’s length of her opponent.

  The young man turned from Onyl and dashed toward the crew. She knew what happened and had to inform her partner.

  “Conon! Spatial artist on your flank!” she warned.

  Still able to move his upper body, the older Sentar’i stuck out his arm and in a flash, conjured a breeze against Onyl. Her torch went out and her trap disappeared.

  Conon had to stop his procural of the crates and focus on his incoming foe. A light produced from the young man and in front of Conon’s eyes, he created two self images.

  Conon saw the light of a Lume Ocer in his enemy’s hand as he tossed it at the sky.

  Two of the copies lunged at him with a full charge. The other constantly clapped the bright orb to keep light on the action. A couple of fists flew by Conon’s face, the others went through it.

  He only had time to dodge or phase himself, the younger Sentar’i didn’t let up his furious offense as he tried to connect with his punches.

  This left Onyl to tackle her opponent alone and in the dark. The older Sentar’i stalked around her, aware that he could take his time.

  “What’s the matter shadow artist?” he teased. “Did I extinguish your light and your hopes?”

  Onyl reached behind her, swung out her arm with a full stretch, and let her staff do the rest. Sounds of a whack and a groan followed as her foe stumbled back.

  “You will fail to take advantage,” she retorted as she regripped her staff. “A common occurrence I’m sure.”

  Onyl’s opponent charged at her. His punches and kicks were continually met with her staff, but Onyl couldn’t land any hits herself after that first strike.

  The older Sentar’i avoided her swing and slipped back. He sharply jutted his arm and a flash gale hit Onyl in the face.

  The split distraction left her open. Before she could act, her sternum took the end of a push kick.

  Shoved across the sand, Onyl used her staff to keep herself upright. She immediately charged back. The older man sidestepped an overhead swing and the miss left her open.

  A second [Gust Attack] knocked her off the ground; she rolled on her side until the hill’s flank stopped her movement. She sat up against the rock wall and narrowly avoided a kick to the face.

  Onyl rolled back to her feet but that was all the time she had before another [Gust] sidelined her.

  Her back crashed against the sand. She couldn’t get back up, her foe stood over her, arm out ready to use his wind arts.

  Opposite them, Conon tried to separate himself from his three aggressive adversaries when the light that had shined against his face went out.

  He suddenly lost track of the younger Sentar’i before his face felt the brunt of a jab. A volley of strikes followed.

  Rapid wallops connected to the gut, the chest, then the chin. Conon lost his verticality and made contact with the ground.

  Quin saw all this transpire from his spot over the hill. Told to get help if things went wrong, the scene gave him plenty of reasons to do just that. That plan didn’t sit well with him however.

  The only reason for their presence out here was to work together, yet here he was, about to leave his teammates behind.

  There had to be something he could do to contribute. Some way to get in the scrum and alert the watch back at town.

  He brought out the Lume Ocer given to him earlier and cupped it with his hands as he shined it around for anything. He saw more branches and stones when he had an idea.

  Conon and Onyl had to think about their next moves from their backs. The former tried to position himself from being surrounded while the latter couldn’t make any sudden moves so close to a wind artist.

  In between hustled the crew, well at work on their exit. One boat filled up first and set out from the beach. They were yards away from the shore when a light appeared in the air.

  Everyone’s attention pointed to the bright object before they recognized the lit torch. A lit torch with a trajectory toward the retreating boat.

  “Noo!” The younger Sentar’i yelled as he tried to intercept the projectile. A chain wrapped around his ankle and yanked him to the shoreline.

  The older Sentar’i stuck out his arm at the torch but his [Gust] redirected when Onyl whacked him in the wrist.

  With no one else able to stop it, the torch landed innocently on deck and bounced against the wooden boards.

  Off the coast, the modest vessel gathered more and more flames, more and more light. The crew onboard dove overboard as the gradual burn became a sudden inferno.

  Anyone at Odlassi would notice the blazed boat. For all except the Tyrovivs, time became an enemy.

  “Daaamn you!” the older Sentar’i cursed Onyl with his arm wound back to blow her away.

  This time however, it was his turn to get pummeled by hard air. A burst of wind blasted him from his side.

  The gale whomped him so hard, he was hurled off the beach. His body flipped as it hopped and skipped over the waters.

  Out of the hill jumped Quin who quickly went to Onyl. “You alright?” he asked.

  “That was unnecessary,” Onyl told him.

  “The boat or that guy?”

  She didn’t respond and instead whipped around to face the younger Sentar’i who suddenly found himself on his own. The crew in between froze, fearful of the Tyrovivs’ next move.

  Up against terrible odds, the younger Sentar’i leaped toward the sea. No splash followed. In fact, he never touched the water.

  On just thin air, he sprinted over it and abandoned his colleague as he escaped.

  That signaled to the crew that they too should abandon everything and flee. They crammed themselves onto the remaining boats as the older Sentar’i swam back to shore.

  He barely caught his breath before bright lights shined all around him. This caught the Tyrovivs off guard as well and they looked around before it became clear, reinforcements had arrived.

  Men and women in black cloaks crowded both sides of the beach.

  They carried lanterns attached them to poles as they lit up the surrounding area and revealed their cold glares.

  Even more were up on the small hill. At the center, a man in a blue cloak with a red bandanna.

  Semi-obscured in the dark, the Cosondera employed their typical intimidation, as they simply stood and stared in wait for anyone to try something.

  All hope lost, the crew gave up on their escape and dropped to their knees. The older Sentar’i, truly by himself saw the futility of his cause as well.

  He rose up to his knees where he stayed and accepted his fate.

Recommended Popular Novels