Chapter 13
Captain Yang
I shake a little as I run down the halls back to my room. As I close the door behind me, I lean against it for a few minutes. Though I know I have to neaten myself up and head straight over to the Royal Palace, I can’t pull myself away from the wall.
Up until now, I have had a stable, reliable life. Whenever it’s become rocky, I’ve smoothly flowed around obstacles like water.
But now it feels as if I’ve been dammed up. I have never faced something like this before, and half wonder how many people through the ages have.
Though I don’t know as much about the legend of the Savior as I should, I still appreciate that a Savior is only born every thousand years. So how many other people in the history of the ages have been placed in the position I now find myself in? It could be no more than a handful.
“If it’s real,” I suddenly say aloud.
Listening to my voice and my words make me let out a short laugh.
Then I stop, abruptly.
I don’t laugh.
I don’t doubt. I’m never overcome; I am a Royal Army sorcerer.
As I think that, I take a breath, walk away from the door, and head over to my shaving basin. Soon enough I clean myself up, and then, selecting my dress uniform, I don it and leave my room.
Walking through the halls of the barracks, I feel as if I’m in a daze. There’s too much information to process, and presumably after the record keepers are finished with me, I’ll be even more overcome.
Shaking my head, unable to lift the daze, I find myself heading across the square. It’s an expansive space, and needs to be, considering the amount of dangerous training that occurs there.
Yet even though it is so large, I glance up and recognize two figures training in the distance.
One of them is Mae, one of our only female sorcerers.
The other, well, of course it’s Yin.
Though it would be quicker to walk through the square, I find myself walking around it, coming as close to Yin as I can without stepping into the square itself.
In fact, all too soon I find myself leaning against a pillar as I watch them train.
I’m not the only one. Several guards and soldiers have paused what they’re doing as they stare her way.
Yin is no longer dressed in the drab clothes she arrived in. She’s in the same light blue dress, delicate pants, and white shoes as Mae. While the army does accept women sorcerers into its ranks, they do not dress as the men do.
Yin’s unruly black hair has been combed back and is in a tight bun resembling Mae’s.
Initially, she looks completely different, then I catch a glimpse of her expression, and realize it’s the same woman.
“This is ridiculous,” Yin says as she stamps her foot on the ground. The move is light, yet her power travels far. She shakes the cobbles, crackles and flames curling underneath her shoes.
Mae rolls her eyes in disgust. “You have power, but you lack elegance. Someone has taught you sorcery, but they have also taught you to fight like a man. You must learn to fight like a woman.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize they taught me to fight like a man, I thought they taught me how to win,” Yin snaps back.
Despite myself, my lips curl into a smile. As soon as I realize what they’re doing, however, I straighten them out.
“You must pay attention, and keep quiet. Speak only when you are spoken to. A lady does not blab; she holds her words for when they are required.”
“And what exactly does this have to do with sorcery? You haven’t even shown me what I’m meant to do. You are a sorcerer yourself, right?”
Mae is usually a controlled woman. I’ve seen her stare down Carcas warriors without losing the haughty edge to her expression. But now her nostrils flare.
Without warning, she raises her hand and spreads it forward. Magical flame shoots from her fingers. An arc of it, a brilliant, blinding jet of pure force.
The move is quick, and I can see Yin isn’t expecting it. Yet, though it strikes her right in the chest, it doesn’t knock her over.
She just leans into it, and the flames disburse across her torso as if she’s wearing armor.
Even from this distance, I can see her expression. Her eyes are narrowed, her lips pulled hard against her teeth. She looks like the epitome of strength – the exact opposite of the refined, womanly presence Mae wants to instill.
As the flames dissipate, Yin leans back, shifts her feet into a defensive pose, and raises her arms.
She does not miss a beat.
“Is it my turn yet?” she asks as she flicks a few loose strands of hair over her shoulder.
There’s a single moment where Mae looks surprised – just a flash of amazement flickers in her usually controlled gaze. Then she composes herself and lifts her chin. “Anyone can learn to block a single blow. Don’t for a second think I’m surprised.”
“What? You’re not surprised? He is,” Yin points out as she points right at me.
Up until now, she hasn’t looked my way once, and I thought she wasn’t aware of my presence.
Awkwardly, I stand straight and clear my throat.
Mae shoots me a terse look.
“You’re training is not impressing anyone – your lack of manners, however, is. You are like a creature at the zoo,” Mae stares down her nose regally. “They’ve only assembled to watch me train a wild bear dressed in women’s clothing,” Mae indicates the soldiers standing around the square with a sweep of her arm.
Yin doesn’t react. If I’d said that, she would have ripped my head off. But, for some reason, she’s showing restraint today.
Pressing her lips together, I watch her breathe steadily.
I also see her eyes dart steadily over Mae, then to the square behind, then up to the buildings and the city beyond.
Is she still looking for a way to escape?
Just as that thought flashes through my mind, I notice something else.
There is a truly far-away quality to her gaze. The look in her eyes is almost… dream-like. Not to say she looks disconnected. Far from it, in fact. It seems… she’s staring at something I can’t see.
.…
I shake my head, realizing my mind is playing tricks on me. No, worse than that – I’m deliberately using the mysterious Yin to distract myself from what I’ve just learned.
Princess Mara is the Savior. The Savior.
Here I am leaning on a pillar and watching a village girl train.
I straighten up and stand back, breathing steadily and deliberately as I do.
I call on the ever-present cool calm of my magic. I let the numbing qualities of my power wash through me. As it does, it cleanses emotion. Simply draining it away like blood from a wound.
I step back again.
I go to turn.
Something holds me back.
“This training will be short,” Mae says as she takes a careful, dignified step back, furling her hand before her as she does. “You may have… a measure of power, but unless you can learn to fight properly, you will have no place in the Royal Army.”
I watch Yin bite down on her lip. I can see the move as if she’s right in front of me and I’m staring at her mouth and neck. Every jerk of her muscles betrays her emotion, as does the burning look in her eyes.
As a Royal Army sorcerer, I can read emotion, but there are some people whose emotion you need no special power to see. Sorcerers like Yin especially wear their feelings like garments, unobstructed and unhidden.
Yin, however, is so intense, I feel like I’m inside her very mind. I know exactly what she’s feeling.
So, without realizing it, I find myself taking a step closer again and losing myself in the show.
“Just do what you have to,” Yin snaps.
“Defend yourself,” Mae snaps back. Then she flings her hand to the side.
Not once does she actually launch herself at Yin. That’s not how women fight. Female sorc
erers tend to stay on the edges of any battle, providing long-range support, but never entering the fray.
Yin, however, clearly doesn’t know that. For as Mae sends a burst of magic her way, she jumps up to meet it again. She does not double back and try to dodge – she leaps into the crackling, flaming blast as if she doesn’t care that it can burn her.
.…
Maybe she doesn’t, because once more I see the look in her eyes.
I’ve been around soldiers my entire life – I’ve seen bravery in all its shapes and sizes – and yet there’s something about the pure intensity behind Yin I’ve never met before.
Without realizing it, I take another step forward, forgetting about my pressing task.
I’m not the only one either – soldiers and guards are filtering out into the square, craning their necks to watch.
Mae flicks her hand and sends another shot of power spiraling toward Yin.
Once more, Yin jumps up to meet it, letting the crackling blast slam against her stomach.
The force of the impact is enough to send her shifting back, but she twists in the air, and lands on her own two feet.
With a slight grunt, Mae sends two bursts of magic from both hands. They arc around and travel right at Yin.
Yin… jumps up to meet them both.
She could have dodged. Easily, considering how deft she is on her feet. Yet she deliberately meets each shot head on.
She lands, pressing one hand into the ground as the magical flames disburse off her body.
Despite the intense light of the magic bursting around her, I swear her gaze burns brighter.
I watch as Mae hesitates, and I catch a glimpse of her expression. The haughty quality of her gaze is starting to crack. She looks confused.
“What are you doing?” she asks as she sends yet another shot of power toward Yin, and Yin leaps up to meet it once more. “Why aren’t you dodging?”
Yin doesn’t answer. She flips and rolls and sprints, catching each burst of magic right in the chest.
I watch Mae flick her hands wide and shoot a jet of magic far away from Yin. Yin puts on a burst of speed and flings herself forward, catching the blast in the chest once more.
Her tunic is ruined, and singe marks cover her arms and cheeks. Her once neat hair is now a loose mess over her eyes. It can’t hide her gaze, though. Nothing this side of solid lead could hide Yin’s intensity.
“What are you doing?” Mae hisses, her voice shaking slightly. “Why are you meeting each of my blows?”
Yin lands, and I see she’s out of breath. Yet she pushes herself up, shifts one foot back, balances her stance, and looks Mae dead in the eyes.
She doesn’t say a word.
Mae is getting flustered, and I have never seen her do that. She hesitates, bringing her hand up but pausing. Then she shoots another jet of magical flame at Yin, then another. The entire time Mae hardly moves. She shifts her hands in beautiful, choreographed arcs, yes, but she doesn’t run around and jump and tumble like Yin.
Women sorcerers tend to stay in exactly the same spot and let the male warriors do the legwork in any battle.
But not Yin
Without a word, Yin manages to slam herself into both of Mae’s shots.
Then she lands. This time the move is heavy, and she stumbles. Her chest punches in and out as she struggles for breath.
But she doesn’t fall. She still doesn’t say a word.
“What are you doing?” Mae, looking completely flustered now, gazes over to me, then back to Yin. “You are meant to defend.”
Yin stands there, her stance balanced, her eyes open and unblinking, and her lips closed.
Now I swear every single soldier in the barracks has come out to watch.
Mae hesitates again but brings her hands up once more. “Defend yourself,” she demands as she shoots another jet of magic at Yin.
I can see the power as the blast slams forward. It’s hot white and crackling.
And yet, incredibly, Yin turns and faces it. Spreading her arms wide, she doesn’t protect herself – she opens up and lets the magic slam into her chest.
The force of the blow is such that she’s knocked clean off her feet.
I automatically jerk forward, taking a step down into the square.
.…
Then she gets up. Yin presses her hands into the stones below her and hauls herself up. The whole time she doesn’t say a word. Though her clothes are ruined and her hair is a mess over her soot-covered face, she doesn’t scream nor grunt nor curse nor beg.
Astoundingly, she shifts one foot back and takes up a defensive position once more.
She is bedraggled, beaten, and barely standing. Yet, from the look in her eye, you can’t tell that. In fact, if you saw her expression alone, you would think she could do this all day.
.…
Mae’s hands shake slightly as she shoots me another flustered look. Her hair, as always, is perfect. Her tunic is clean and neat. Her shoes don’t have a single mark on them. In other words, she looks completely different to Yin. The contrast is so stark as I swivel my gaze between them, that my lips part open in surprise.
“I said… defend yourself,” Mae says as she brings both hands up.
I can tell she’s getting ready for a devastating blow – I can feel her magic charging.
Yin doesn’t shift back. She doesn’t whimper, she doesn’t even wince.
She doesn’t even wince.
Power builds up along Mae’s hands from the double bands encircling her wrists, crackling between her fingers like lightning arcing through the clouds. The next move she makes will be enough to bring down an army, let alone an already weakened woman.
.…
Yin doesn’t shift back. She shifts forward.
The blow could kill her, and she still moves right into it.
But so do I. Before I even know what I’m doing, my body leaps forward, and I call magic out of the ether. Punching my fist out, I send a wall of twisting blue and white blasting into Mae’s blow, extinguishing it completely.
I land right before Yin, facing Mae.
She’s as surprised as I am.
“Enough,” I find my voice. “You’ve made your point.”
Mae looks indignant but concedes my order with a short nod.
Though she doesn’t say it, I can tell from her emotions she’s relieved. Better I end it than she. It is obvious she has never faced a recruit quite like Yin before, and has absolutely no idea how to deal with her.
And neither do I, apparently. For as I stand there, I feel a light touch on my arm.
Yin pushes into me and shifts past. Without a word, she takes up a defensive position beside me, no longer allowing the bulk of my form to block her from Mae.
Mae, about to turn away, stops. She stares over her shoulder at Yin, her lips parting open with surprise. “It’s over,” she hisses.
Yin doesn’t say anything. She holds that defensive position, her balance almost perfect, despite the fact I can tell she can hardly stand.
“It’s over,” I repeat. “Yin?”
She looks at me. From under her soot-covered brow, she stares my way. “Are you giving up?”
I stutter through my surprise. My brow crumples as my lips pull wide. “It’s over,” I say again, “It’s just training.”
“You foolish girl,” Mae adds. “You’re impressing no one with this game. It’s clear you can’t be trained,” Mae concludes with an unsettled breath. “You would be nothing but a burden to the Royal Army. If this were a real battle, and Captain Yang here hadn’t decided to intervene,” Mae notes with a sniff, “you would have lost long ago. You know nothing about true battle.”
Yin, somehow still standing, raises an eyebrow. “First you endure,” she says quietly, “then you attack.”
A cold shiver passes up my back, forcing my hair to stand on end. “Sorry?”
“That’s all you need to know about training, battle, and the art of victory,” Yin says
smoothly.
As she speaks, I swear I can hear Castorious Barr’s grumbling tone. No doubt that’s a phrase he’s repeated to her multiple times. Indeed, considering what I’ve just seen, it’s also a lesson she’s taken to heart.
Mae snorts and turns to move away.
She can’t. Something has caught her shoes, locking them in place. As she tries to move, she loses balance.
I rush forward and grab her before she can fall. It’s only then I realize her shoes are stuck to the cobbles.
The soles have been melted.
With one hand on Mae’s shoulder supporting her, I turn slowly to face Yin.
Throughout the battle, she melted Mae’s shoes, and Mae didn’t even notice.
Still holding her defensive position, Yin relaxes, crossing her arms before her, apparently not caring about the injuries she’s given herself.
“You… you melted my shoes,” Mae roars.
Mae ordinarily never loses her temper. She is restrained, refined, and dignified. Now her cheeks are hot with rage, and her eyes are flickering with unrestrained indignation.
“I endured, then I attacked,” Yin says.
“How dare you,” Mae snarls through a locked jaw, her lips moving sharply over her perfect teeth.
Yin crosses her arms harder and stares Mae down.
.…
I realize I have to do something, and yet I can’t quite bring myself to act. In all my years I’ve never seen someone attack quite like Yin did. From seasoned warriors to sorcerer masters, even to generals.
She melted Mae’s shoes, for god’s sake.
And Mae didn’t notice. While she was busy attacking Yin, sending bursts of power slamming into her chest, Yin was busy casting her own subtle but effective spell.
I try to calm myself down, telling myself it isn’t that impressive, but then I make the mistake of staring out around the square. Every soldier is watching on in uneasy, awed silence.
“You’ll never learn to fight like—” Mae begins, her cheeks hot with rage.
“A woman? Good. I was taught not to fight like a woman or a man. I was taught to win,” Yin says. Then she turns away. “I’ll show myself back to my room, shall I?”
I should say something – tell her to stop, punish her for what she’s done to Mae. Instead, I stand there and watch her stalk across the square as if she hasn’t just endured a frantic, violent battle.
Her head is held high, and her footfall is measured. Though she stumbles occasionally, she never lets herself fall.
It takes until she’s halfway across the square until I regain control of myself. “Show her back to her room,” I demand as I point at the nearest two soldiers.
It takes the both of them a few seconds to relax. Then they scurry off. As they do, I can see they look wary.
Who wouldn’t?
Yin endured every blow Mae sent at her while winning the battle in secret and in silence.
“I will see to it myself that she is dealt with,” Mae suddenly snarls in my ear as she tries to jerk her feet free.
I still have a hold of her shoulder, and I can feel how hard she struggles to yank her shoes from the cobbles.
Despite her efforts, she takes the shoes off, growling as she does. “She is untrainable. She has no place in this Army.” Mae straightens herself up now she is free and pats down her dress. With a breath, she appears to compose herself, though I can still feel her rage bubbling within. “I am sorry you had to see that, Captain. I will inform General Garl myself. That creature is useless to us.”
I don’t reply. There’s no point.
General Garl, I am confident, will find out what happened here soon enough. Just as I am confident General Garl won’t agree with Mae.
Yin, though impetuous, arrogant, and gruff, is in no way useless to the Royal Army. Someone with that much power is precisely what an army needs.
Granted, Yin is a woman, but her power is the only thing Garl will care about. After all, no matter how ingrained a tradition or taboo, at the end of the day, power is the only thing people desire. If Yin can be trained, she could be an enormous asset to the Royal Army.
If she can be trained. Considering the display she’s given, though, I know Garl will not give up until he confirms completely that she can’t be.
Eventually, Mae stalks off, and the rest of the crowd slowly disperses, leaving me standing there next to a pair of melted white shoes.
It takes me far too long to pull my mind off what Yin’s just achieved, and back to my plans for the day.
.…
With a jolt, I realize I have to head to the palace. The record keepers are waiting for me.
Twisting on the spot and racing across the square, I chide myself for being so stupid. Though Yin’s display was truly impressive, I should not have let it distract me, especially considering how important my task is.
The legend of the Savior may be true, and the Kingdom’s own Princess may be the prodigy that fills that role.
. . . Yet, try as I might, I can’t get Mae’s melted shoes out of my head.
It’s with muddled confusion that I make my way out of the barracks and through the city. As I race to the palace, I use every technique I know to purge myself of emotion.
And, slowly but surely, it works. I allow my feelings to wash away until my cold, calm detachment returns.
It is only then I am ready to face what will happen next.