Conscripted, p.12
Conscripted, page 12
I sensed it as three… somethings I couldn’t exactly describe, but they burned like hot coals fresh from the fire shoved directly into my chest, just below my heart. The heat built, and I was seriously starting to believe this torment would never end.
Finally, after subjective eons of agony, they just… stopped. No more flashes of pain or any further agony. Like going to a rave bar and someone cutting the power to the speakers and the lights.
Things went blissfully black, and I went happily with them.
Chapter twelve
I didn’t dream.
Or at least, I don’t think I did.
I don’t know how long I was out after those crystals hit me. Time continued to flow by, but I was none the wiser, completely consumed by the nebulous realm of sleep. However, it felt nothing like the sleep I typically experienced.
After the torment that those crystals put me through ended, all I was able to discern were flashes.
It was hard to describe. I guess it was kind of like watching those stop-motion videos made by some random kid on his very first Tube-You post. The ones where they make a crappy clay dinosaur eat all the little clay stick-figure men one frame at a time. But rather than see any of the clay figures move, they stay in the same position, frozen with big, terrified O’s on their faces at the point just before the dinosaur surges forward and eats everyone.
Yeah, I know it's hard to follow but bear with me a bit longer here and it will hopefully make sense.
Anyway, what truly changed with each frame were the sensations that came with them. I mentioned the fear in the clay men's faces for a reason, because at one moment, a feeling of pure, unadulterated dread flooded my body like I was the one about to be eaten alive.
Not a moment later, the overwhelming dread was replaced by a sensation close to the feeling that fills your chest when you are next to someone you've been crushing on, hard. Not the sort of tenderness you feel towards someone you love and see all the time, but the raw, unadulterated attraction and infatuation you feel towards someone who you would sell everything you had for an infinitesimal chance to go out with just once. The butterflies that flit about restlessly in the pit of your stomach turning you into a blabbering idiot when you try to talk to them. How your pulse quickens and your palms sweat, the fear of rejection warring against the anticipation that they might just say yes.
The next image/feeling/sensation was not unlike standing at the edge of the Grand Canyon, with the sheer enormity of it rendering you speechless. It instills a sense of awe within you as you realize how genuinely insignificant you are in the grander scheme of the universe when compared to such majesty.
Now put those feelings into the stop motion film frames and you’ll start to see what I mean, but even then it’s imprecise, and doesn’t cover the entirety of what I experienced.
As I slept, each flash of insight brought with it a new sensation that flooded me as if I were an overflowing lake, taking on more water each minute from a rain-flooded river. Each flash increased the pressure beyond what I ever could have imagined I could hold.
This feeling of intense pressure seemed to overwhelm all of my senses, both mental and physical. It was as if my entire body was encased in iron bands, but not in a way to make me feel trapped or constricted. It was like they were merging with me, becoming part of me.
Making me… more.
More of what, I wasn’t sure yet. But by the time it all passed, however long it took, I had the strangest thing happen.
I expected to feel like a pinata after a ten-year-old’s birthday party. One where the kid invited over fifty of his Italian gangster cousins, gave them each a baseball bat, and told them that the pinata was filled with the money they were owed.
Surprisingly, it did not go down that way.
Instead, I woke up feeling…
Completely fucking great.
I mean, I didn’t have an ounce of pain anywhere in my body. It was to the point where I didn’t want to open my eyes and be reminded of the fact that the world wasn’t all rainbows and butterflies. It was as though I had found myself gliding around on a cloud of hundred-dollar bills, while a bunch of naked angel supermodels massaged every part of my body, listening to ‘Eye of the Tiger’ as they told me sweet lies about how hot I was.
It was positively delightful.
So of course someone went and fucking ruined it.
“You are awake,” a voice I recognized said. “Good, there is much to discuss my young friend. I had a feeling when I first saw you, that you were more than you appeared. I am glad my instincts were right for once. I was beginning to fret they had been broken after the Exodus.”
I let the barest hint of an eyelid peel back from my right eye. The same way you would when you are a little kid, trying to watch people without them knowing it. It was obvious what you were doing to anyone who was watching you, but you still did it anyway.
Demos stood there.
Alone.
He stared at me with a neutral expression, one I couldn't read at all.
That was not good. I didn’t know why, but I had a feeling this guy only showed up alone when something needed removal.
Permanently.
My eyes shot open, quickly taking stock of my surroundings. I was in a tent of some kind, about the size of an average apartment in any city across the US. There were a couple of cots like the one I was in, with a table separating mine from the others. At the far side were a few tables and chairs arranged haphazardly, with a curious deck of playing cards shaped like triangles sitting atop one of the tables.
This place seemed more like a break room for off-duty guards than anything else.
Not seeing anything else as threatening as the imposing man staring into my soul, I focused my attention back on Demos.
I quickly remembered how deadly this man seemed the night before, emitting an aura of someone who would get what he wanted no matter who tried to stop him. Or it could have been the glowing eyes.
Not to mention that friggen’ flaming sword he had.
After a moment, his expression warmed. He gave me a soft smile as I studied him, which I guess was supposed to put me at ease.
Unfortunately, I found it far more worrisome. He was here, in this room, for me, and I needed to figure out why before I decided which way to jump.
I also realized that, in all my surprise and fear last night, I hadn't noted much detail about him other than the eyes and the scary flaming sword. Which he was, of course, currently wearing, sheathed at his hip with his hands resting on the hilt and his fingers crossed.
All perfectly normal. Don't jump to conclusions.
Gulp.
A long dagger adorned the opposite hip from the sword, which looked like it had a bigger… whatever those things are that protect your hand from slashes. Regardless, it was huge, with a metal plate about six inches wide that flared out to eight inches from where the blade met the pommel, then shrunk down gradually towards the end of the handle. It was almost a shield in and of itself, as well as a weapon in its own right if you were to bash hard enough.
He still had those strange, glowing red eyes. But this time, I noticed that the color within those eyes was naturally brown, almost giving him an uncanny valley effect. My brain wanted to reset just from seeing it, like it was wrong somehow.
So I let my eyes glide right past them and onto the rest of him.
His face was framed in pure white hair, which sagged in a mop past his ears before curling back in. It was parted down the middle and slightly back to the right; it would have been all the rage back in the 90s.
His face was mostly unblemished, at least below the eyes. His pale skin was smooth, for the most part, giving him the look of someone in their low to mid-thirties. However, the lines around his eyes made him appear much older. Crow’s feet had teamed up with the dark circles of someone who rarely slept to mask his youthful features. Not content with just the two of them, they invited stress lines and a battle scar above his left eye for a pool party.
It was an odd contrast. And honestly, I couldn’t tell you how old this man was because of it.
His clothes would be debonair, at least in the early 1800s. He dressed in a suit with gold buttons up and down the front on each side of his heart. A bright red cape hung over his left shoulder, gold filigree adorning it in patterns reminding me of the acorn and oak leaf on senior officer caps in the military they called scrambled eggs.
When I finally finished my inspection of the man, my eyes traveled back to his face. He had raised his left eyebrow as if inquiring into whether I was done yet.
I took one last deep breath, and rather than risk sounding like a prepubescent teenager and letting my voice crack, I gave the man a single nod in response to his unasked question of whether I was ready to continue.
He returned the gesture with a knowing smirk.
“Good, you adapt quickly,” he said. “Now, we need to discuss the peril you are in before we take you back to your new home.”
Oh… joy.
Chapter thirteen
“What kind of danger?” I asked. My voice came out raspy and hoarse, sounding like I had swallowed a sheet of fine grit sandpaper, and I coughed. Demos pointed to a small table next to my cot where a couple of clay cups waited, hopefully with clean water inside.
I shifted slightly and extended my arm to reach for one, realizing far too late that my muscles had turned into coiled springs while I slept. My right arm snapped out like a striking snake before I could even open my fingers.
The cup flew into the tent's soft canvas siding, bouncing off with a hollow thud and shattering as it hit the ground, its contents quickly soaking into the dirt floor below.
Demos stood up casually and strolled toward the table with an amused smile as if he had been expecting what had happened.
I could only stare at my arm in disbelief.
He picked up the other cup and gently handed it to me, maintaining his grip on the small object until he was sure I had it firmly within my grasp. “Be careful. It will take you a short while to adapt to your new strength. You more than others, I suspect.”
“What?" I jerked at his words as if surprised by them. Focused on my arm, it was a miracle that I registered him speaking at all. "What happened? To me... to my body?”
“After the crystals reacted to your affinity for their respective elements, a twin of each was created in your body,” Demos began. “These crystals do two things. The first is creating a storage unit and conduit for our magic. This will take a while, as they must first gain enough energy to be used. Eventually, this buildup of energy will show in your appearance." He tapped at the temple beside his glowing eyes with a pointed finger. "Their other side effect is to increase your strength considerably. They will provide a more detailed explanation when you start the academy. But we must first discuss the more pressing matter at hand.”
“Right…,” I said as I averted my gaze to the broken cup on the ground. I wanted to ask more about what had happened to me and the changes I could expect in the near future, but I didn’t want to do anything that might give me away. I had to hope they explained enough at this academy to help me piece it all together on my own.
“Okay, so what danger?”
Demos considered his words for a moment before meeting my gaze. “The peril that comes with being an anomaly in the world.”
I froze as the gravity of his words sank in, like the proverbial deer in the headlights of an oncoming big rig on I-80.
What do you say to that? To a man who could kill you in the blink of an eye with a massive flaming sword? All while stuck in a world where anything you say could be odd enough to get you killed?
Or worse?
I hoped he was only talking about the three crystal thingies, but my gut told me otherwise. It sounded like he knew far more than he was letting on. So, I hedged my bets.
“Can you be a little more specific?
“You absorbed the power of all three crystals, which has never happened before. Ever. Most Hexinblades get one, and only one, elemental power throughout the course of their lives. Only one man, who was born with a single affinity, has ever achieved a second. And he had to defeat a dungeon's Core Beast and take its crystal to get his.”
I relaxed for a moment, relieved that he had been referring to the crystal things and not where I was from. but his final words nearly made me forget all about my earlier plight.
“Wait, did you say dungeons?” The question came out before I could stop myself.
He chuckled and shook his head, closing his eyes with a small, incredulous smile. “She was right. You are indeed not of this world. If only I would have listened to her when I had the chance. Things might not have ended up as hopeless as they are now.”
I didn’t move as my muscles tensed and my blood went cold. I could feel the tell-tale pinpricks of sweat all over my body as I quickly contemplated what to do.
There was no way I could win a fight against this guy if he wanted to harm me, but that didn’t mean I would roll over either.
As my brain was running on overdrive, he turned away from me, advancing several steps before turning around and repeating them back towards me.
Is he seriously fucking pacing right now? Why the hell is he nervous? Well, at least it means he isn’t actively trying to kill me at the moment. Yet. But still...
I kept silent. There was no sense in making things worse until the situation played out a little more. It gave me a chance to come up with something other than ‘die brutally’ if he changed his mind. I glanced around the room, looking for anything that might give me an opportunity.
Fighting him is out, he would kick my ass or burn me with that flame shit he has. Unfortunately, the only exit to this tent is behind him. I might be able to use something to cut my way through the canvas, but that would take too long and—.
“You are not in any danger from me,” Demos said suddenly, drawing me from my thoughts as he watched my eyes dart anxiously around the room. “Be at ease, son. You are safe for now.”
His smooth tenor voice seemed sincere. I stopped my feverish scan of the room to think critically about my interactions with him so far, taking a moment to catalog everything I had seen from him up until this point. While he was for sure a scary individual, all of his actions so far had been those I would consider marks of a decent, if battle-scarred, person.
Maybe it’s finally time to stop acting like a scared rabbit and accept him at his word.
I eased as much of the tension in my shoulders as I could as I forced my breathing to slow. I took a deep, slow four-count breath, held it for another four, and let it out gradually over a six-count until my lungs were empty.
It wasn't a lot, but I noticed a tiny bit of the tension in my shoulders dissipate as I continued my practiced breathing. Tension I didn't even know was there.
It was then that I realized that from the moment I had arrived, the fear and stress inherent in being pulled from everything you once knew had been steadily building on me. Even waking up feeling like a new person a moment ago did nothing to reduce the tightness in the muscles along my neck and back. It had just continually grown into a low throb of dull aching that I didn’t even register at the time.
I wasn't so much afraid of him (outside of the normal, rational fear of anyone who could burn you alive) as I was just generally afraid of the situation I found myself in. Completely at the mercy of others, with no clue as to what was going on.
Like any sane person doubtless would be in a similar set of circumstances.
Again, something the hero books and movies leave out. Most humans just aren't built for this shit, and it takes time to adjust. We like our morning coffee every day and our nice simple lives with just occasional, carefully curated excitement when we choose to have it.
I wasn't any exception to that rule, and I just had to accept that fact and move on.
As I worked my way through another breathing countdown, I felt an even bigger difference.
Soon, I had some semblance of control over myself again. Or, at least I was heading in that direction.
“Good, I am glad to know that you have some faith in me. I promise you, while I am not what anyone from before the dark times would consider a righteous soul, I am most certainly a man of my word, and have a desire for our species to survive.” His face fell to the floor as his thoughts drifted. “Probably why I was not invited along with those cowards during the Exodus.”
I had so many questions, ones I felt free to ask now that someone knew what I was and where I was from. Or at least some of it, and that they would not kill me for it.
“Exodus?” I asked.
“Right, if you were born in a land far from here, you wouldn’t know about what has happened. Let me tell you a short version of how the humans of these lands came to their current predicament. You will learn more in training, but I can give you enough to not be utterly in the dark. Then I will tell you why you are in danger, and how we can keep you from being the target of everyone on Camaria to study.”
That wasn't scary at all, and I took the fact that everyone would want me dead stoically and very man-like. Didn't even need to do the breathing exercises at all.
Yeah, I didn't think you would believe that even as I wrote it.
And this is why you keep your mouth shut when you’re portaled to another world. Suck it isekai anime trope where the MC goes around and blabbers everything to everyone and still ends up the undefeatable hero. You would be dead by now, fool!
My vindication over unrealistic hero tropes helped more than the breathing did if I was honest.
Demos paused while I came to terms with his latest bombshell, then lifted his jaw to me as our eyes met. “In exchange, I expect you to be honest with me and tell me of yourself if I ask. It could be important later. Agreed?”
A small part of me worried it might still be a trap. But hell, if he wanted me dead, it was going to happen. No sense in setting me up for more of it. Besides, this was my best chance of figuring out what the hell was going on.
