Ravens of Eternity

116 Dyed in Red

Shouts of combat filled the air deep inside the prisoner compound. Humans and Drogar both practiced fighting against each other in little groups inside each sparring circle.

Watching over all of them was Admiral Chase, who was still pondering Retholis’ warning. Next to her was a stern-looking brown-scaled Drogar with short facial spines. His uniform was as plain and simple as the rest of the guards, except the markings on his collar revealed he had an officer’s rank.

And the scowl on his face revealed his displeasure at the sight before him.

“Thank you for helping us with this, Shieldmaster Toreth,” said the Admiral.

Toreth looked at the Admiral with a wary eye and harrumphed lightly.

“Save your thanks for Swarmfather Retholis,” he responded. “I’m merely following orders.”

“You don’t think training us to be able to defend ourselves is a good thing?”

“I think giving humans the means to fight against their captors is foolish,” replied Toreth. “And furthermore, I think it’s strange that one of your people put in a rather similar request one cycle before the Swarmfather sent in his order. I hope this is merely coincidence, and not some sort of human plot.”

The Admiral sighed.

.....

“We’re not up to anything, if that’s what you’re worried about. And I think you’re talking about Freya. She’s always been a bit... intuitive, if you will. Maybe there’s something else she sees that most others don’t. Maybe she’s just lucky. She’s got a sort of sixth sense, sometimes.”

“Sixth sense?” scoffed Toreth. “Mine’s telling me this is all a terrible idea, and it’s going to end badly for me and my soldiers.”

“Relax. We’re not planning on attacking a single one of you.”

“And you had better keep it that way! If anything happens – anything at all – I’m going for you myself!”

“Understood,” said the Admiral.

The both of them then turned towards their people and watched them wrestle and fight against each other. And presumably, learned from the other as well.

In most of the sparring circles, there was typically one Drogar sparring against three human opponents. Each side took turns aggressing against the other, which gave them all time to absorb whatever techniques they were learning, creating, or countering.

A few of the sparring circles had two Drogar, but they faced six human opponents instead. This created a completely different group dynamic that resulted in more injuries than not. But they all realized just how necessary it was.

Walking in between the circles, a number of impromptu drill sergeants from both species riled up everyone around them. They made sure to keep everyone active, engaged, and most importantly, civil.

One group ended up getting a little too heated during their sparring and started to get serious with their blows. There was even a point where slurs were thrown in both directions. A couple sergeants had to run in and break them up and force them all to cool off.

Looking over everyone, it was plainly clear that it was the humans who suffered more bruises and wounds than the Drogar. That fact alone showed who was stronger and more martially-inclined.

Not that it stopped any one of them from taking the hits.

In one of the sparring circles, Eva fell down on all fours, breaths hot and heavy. Her workout gear was absolutely drenched in sweat, and her hair hung down in damp clumps. Her body had a number of welts and bruises on them, which were plain to see on her bare arms.

She took in deep, heavy breaths as her heart slowed down from a thunderous beat. Her muscles burned and the taste of raw iron sat in the back of her throat.

Eva painfully collapsed face-first onto the grass, but was too exhausted to do anything but groan.

Blademaster Talyss bent down next to Eva just to look her over. To her surprise, she saw Eva’s breathing return to normal faster than what she expected. Far faster.

“One full cycle,” said Talyss. “I’m impressed.”

Eva rolled herself onto her back with a grunt and another groan, and looked up at the blue sky past Talyss’ face, past the buildings, and the trees, and the dome.
“Who’s lasted longest?” she asked.

“Well, you’re up there,” replied the Bladedancer. “A handful of Justicars have reached ten or eleven hours. Severas withstood me for fourteen. I withstood my own master for nearly sixteen.”

As Talyss spoke, Eva could feel her stamina filling back up quickly. But it was a long way from full. On top of that, she could feel her muscles rebuild and her skin toughen. It wasn’t any faster or slower than normal – she could just feel it now.

Everytime she looked within herself, to check on her ‘chassis’, she found she was able to better understand each of her ‘systems’ bit by bit. It no longer felt like trillions of signals passing through her head in one big cacophonous blast. Instead it was more like organized clusters of billions instead. But still a cacophony.

She still had a lot of work to do, and a lot of signals to figure out.

“To be honest,” continued Talyss, “having any human hit ten hours is... a shock and a surprise. From what I know of human physiology, you shouldn’t have lasted longer than three hours. Four if your condition is at peak.”

“Well, I did say I could go for a while,” said Eva.

She did a quick kip up and hopped back on her feet, but was a bit wobbly after the landing. She shook off the dizziness and limbered up her muscles. Though her breathing was still labored, it was nowhere near as heavy as it was only a mere minute ago.

Talyss was shocked at the sight. She was sure Eva was done, but instead she had sprung up as though her weariness was only a memory.

“Are... are you sure you want to continue training?”

Eva nodded resolutely. Then, in the blink of an eye, she drew her blade and entered into a near-perfect defensive stance.

“Still a few kinks to work out,” she replied.

~

Near the compound’s singular entrance, a small throng of Drogar headed towards the reinforced front gate. There were a couple dozen of them, all of whom wore dark red robes with stone and metal accessories strung on leather cord.

Each also wore their beltknives, though more than half wore long beltknives. They were also armed with D-ranked civilian sidearms, which were slung on the other side of their belts.

As they stomped their way towards the base, the gate quickly slid upwards from the ground. A moment after it slid all the way up the wall and sat flush along the top, there was a loud THUNK. Multiple internal locking bolts slid into position and fixed the gate in place.

In the middle of the gate was a thick metal door that swung open inwards, and a number of armed and armored guards ran out to stop the Drogar from getting any closer.

“Hey,” said the Drogar up front, “we heard there were some apes living in this compound here. We wanted to see for ourselves. Say hello, and whatnot.”

The lead guard stepped forward. His hand was on his rifle, but it was still slung across his body.

“This is a Class Five Restricted Yellow Zone,” he said. “You have thirty seconds to leave or we will be forced to open fire.”

“We’re still in a Green Zone, in case you haven’t noticed. We’re still perfectly legal over here.”

The red-robed Drogar looked around the gate and did their best to remember the details of the defenses. Thick, high walls, descending gate, inset door. That was certainly a huge problem.

More than the gate and the walls were the two short towers that flanked the gate itself. More towers circled within.

All were manned by guards, who seemed to have great vantage points.

And the guards themselves – all were armed with large, powerful rifles and armored in highly flexible medium armor. They were armed to the teeth and were stationed all along the wall inside the compound itself, in little guard booths.

The red-robed Drogar knew just by looking at the whole setup that it was going to be tough to punch through.

“Being within 50 meters of a Yellow Zone while without an official arbiter is a violation of Conduct Code 147-B. If you do not leave within fifteen seconds, we will be forced to fire on you.”

All the guards around the Drogar shouldered their rifles in unison, but kept their barrels pointed low.

“Oh, so you’re all alright with keeping a bunch of apes on Taloren?” said the leader. “But it’s not alright for native Drogar to be here?”

“Ten seconds.”

The guards raised their guns and pointed them at the Drogars’ chests. Many of those targets jumped back in fear and took a step back.

The Drogar leader harrumphed loudly.

“Look at all of you,” he sneered. “Ready to kill a fellow Drogar? And for what? So a bunch of filthy apes can have a vacation – at our expense!”

“Five seconds.”

The guards moved their fingers from the trigger guards and right onto the triggers.

“Looks like only ape-loving Drogar are allowed here,” said the leader. “Let’s leave ’em alone so they can have their private time.”

They then turned around and walked away from the Yellow Zone, most of them shaken by the experience. Though a few seethed with anger, so much so that their fists shook with fury.

~

Further inside the Green Zone, Miko and Justicar Doleth sat at a booth in an eatery. In front of the two of them were a number of small dishes, each more varied and colorful than the last. It certainly looked appetizing, at least to a Drogar.

Doleth hungrily chowed down on her portion of the dishes with absolute glee.

Miko picked up what looked like small reddish steamed dumplings, but with two beady, glassy eyes on top. Then without any reservations, she took a bite out of it.

Her face contorted as the different tastes and sensations coursed across her tongue.

“I do not think I like this one,” she said. “It has all of the flavors, somehow, in different parts of it. It is almost as though every bite changes the taste. One bite is salty, the next sour, then sweet.”

“Fascinating,” said Doleth. “To us, it’s only sweet and salty. Occasionally with bitter spots.”





Doleth then took another bite of her dumpling-thing and rolled it around her tongue, as if to confirm what she just said. She nodded to herself.

“I see,” said Miko. “I can stand the flavors, perhaps not changing with each bite. What I absolutely cannot stand is the texture. It is like eating sandy gelatin.”

“Mmf, yeah. Grubmites are an acquired taste.”

Miko polished off the rest of her steamed grubmite dumpling, and happily washed it away with a drink.

“What is next?” she asked.

“I don’t know how you’re able to eat that much,” said Doleth. “How are you fitting it all? I mean, you’re small. No offense. And this is a lot of food.”

Miko laughed and waved it off a little.

“Do not worry – I do not even need to eat. I am only doing this because it is fun.”

Doleth’s head tilted slightly.

“You don’t need to eat? What, like a Reborn?”

.....

~

Over at the Red Spiral Towers, Swarmfather Retholis looked down on a thin rectangular case sitting on the middle of his desk. The case was heavily reinforced and held an intricate lock that looked like interwoven roots carved out of metal and stone. The roots wrapped all around the case, and kept it sealed up tight.

In the middle was a small patterned inset, which Retholis filled with a key. After a quick turn, the root-like locks pulled away and retracted out of the way. This allowed the top of the case to open up like a jagged flower in bloom.

Inside was a beltknife where both the sheath and the handle were made of a plain dark grey metal. They were scratched up and had a couple minor dents and dings here and there.

Retholis picked it up and drew the blade smoothly, as though he had done it thousands of times before. The edge was polished to a mirror shine, but was stained a deep, dark red.

He looked at his reflection in the blade before he sheathed it and slung it on his belt.

Then he turned towards the windows behind him and watched over the city below.