Once It Gets Dark Ch 09

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Hi everybody. I put the list of German and Veril words in my profile for everybody who wants to refresh their memory and brush up on their vocabulary.

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CHAPTER 9

Fuck, fuck,

fuck

! Regret hit me the moment the battery died. I started pressing the power button over and over, trying, against my better knowledge, to switch my phone back on and delete the picture. But, of course, the screen stayed black.

My hands were shaking. What had I done? What would the General do to me if he found out? Or worse, what would he do to Tim? My mind started racing, showing me my friend tortured, mutilated, murdered, each image more horrific than the next.

I pressed my hands against my temples and forced myself to breathe in and out steadily. Slowly, I stepped away from the table and sat down on the floor.

Focus

. Tim was not an idiot; he wasn't going to send the photo to the media. And honestly, what else was he going to do with the information, even in the unlikely event that he found somebody to translate the writing in Veril script and language? It was not like he was going to meet the General and his troops himself at whatever place the map described to stop them from doing whatever it was they were planning to do.

What

were

they planning to do? I hadn't gotten a good look at the map, but I didn't dare touch that box again, terrified to leave any more traces. I breathed in once more. Maybe it had not been such a bad move after all. In the end, I was the only human right now who had such privileged access to the Veril's plans. Wasn't it my duty toward my own kind to spy a bit? The General--the asshole--definitely deserved it. But I needed to be careful about it. The first step was to somehow get my phone charged so I could confer with Tim and figure out a plan for how we could do something more useful than just send out random photos.

No, actually, the first step was to make sure the General

never

found my phone. My hands were still shaking when I reached for my bag and fished out a pack of paper handkerchiefs. It was almost empty, save for one sheet. I enveloped my phone in the tissue and stuffed it back into its blue and white plastic wrapping. Now, at least it wouldn't be immediately noticed if someone looked through my things.

Step two was being so super nice and sweet to the General that he would not suspect me. As hard as it was, I needed to accept that my body did not belong to me. As long as I was here, I was his entertainment, his

toy

, as he liked to call me, and now it was more vital than ever that I played the part--until I could escape.

I lay down on the rug beneath my feet, breathing in deeply, and felt a little better. I looked at the beautiful spokes of the tent's ceiling, carved with images of leaves and plants. The roof was closed, and it was astonishing that I was able to see such details at all in the dark. I wondered if the General had maybe passed on some of his abilities to me when he pushed his magic into my arm.

Little driblets of sweat were forming on my forehead in the warm tent, and for the first time since I was here, I was getting bored. I drank some water; I got up and walked around looking at the furniture but not daring to open any of the wooden chests; I went through my bag searching for something to read, but all I found was the receipt for the tissue paper. Price: 2,45 New Marks, including 19% sales tax. I sighed and lay down on the furs, trying to sleep, but I was full of strange energy.

I stared at the ceiling again, and as the minutes slowly expanded into hours, my former resolve turned into dullness and finally into despair. There was nothing to keep my thoughts from spiraling down into the darkest places of my mind. What if I would never escape? What if this was it for the rest of my life? Locked in his tent, the General my only distraction, my only interaction when he came to fuck me. After a while, I would start to look forward to being violated by him, driven insane by the emptiness of my days while he burned my country to ashes.

The thought made me feel sick to my stomach, and tears started to flow down my cheeks when I realized how truly lonely I was now without even the possibility to contact my friends. First I cried silently, but soon I was melting into a puddle of my own misery, hugging my naked, dirty, and abused body. All the things I had endured the last few days finally burst out of me in rhythmic sobs like hiccups.

This was how Vik Ichel, the General's friend and Colonel flanked by the interpreter, found me when he stepped through the entrance. He raised his eyebrows with mild interest as he beheld the state of me, and I squeaked, unable to keep from sobbing, and tried to cover myself with a blanket.

He took three steps closer, threw something on the bed, hissed a few words in Veril, and left again.

"Pull yourself together, Thirteen, get dressed, and follow us," the translator told me, and was quick to follow his superior, clearly uncomfortable with the scene he had walked into.

For a moment, I was confused. Was that a trap? The General had ordered me not to talk to anybody, and he had also made it blatantly clear that he enjoyed the fact that I didn't have clothes. Had he already found out about the picture I had sent, and was this somehow the first part of his plan to punish me? Was I getting dressed for my friend's execution?

No, I shook my head. That was ridiculous--impossible, right? Still not able to control my crying, I crawled towards the bundle they had left on the fur--it was a uniform complete with sturdy military boots. I touched it in surprise. It was the same coarse fabric that the General and the rest of his soldiers wore only without the leather armor that went on top of it. I put on the dark gray pants and shirt. Fortunately, I knew how the fastenings worked, I thought with a bit of cynicism since I had undressed the General often enough by now.

The clothes were the right size and surprisingly comfortable, despite their roughness, but I didn't want to leave the tent. Why did he have to send Vik Ichel of all people to get me? I hated the Colonel with all my heart since he and the General had laughed at my humiliation in the car when they brought me to the Base.

I was still sniffing when I stepped into the warm, unbearably humid night outside, the tension of an impending thunderstorm pressing down on me.

Vik Ichel held out a piece of bread to me.

"Eat," he said in Veril, translated thankfully by the interpreter.

He patted me on the back, just like I had seen him do with the General, and I was too shocked to pull back.

"The first days in the army are tough for everybody."

"I'm not in the army," I replied, too surprised to remember that I was forbidden to speak without permission.

"You belong to Vo'ren, and Vo'ren

is

the army." We had started walking downhill towards an open field that lay a little further away behind the General's tent in the other direction of the crossroads we had arrived at.

"And you, Thirteen, have already proven your valor when you didn't scream at the binding, so as far as I see it, you are one of us."

I threw a thankful look back at the translator, who had given me the tip to stay quiet while receiving the mark.

"And if you are keeping Shenik Tsul happy, you are doing more good for the Kirtim Shenk than most of those lazy stargazers here." The Colonel laughed and gestured to the field below us, where many soldiers were training, looking anything but lazy with their swift and precise movements faster than any human could dream of.

"I don't think Shenik Tsul is too happy with me right now," I conceded.

Vik Ichel chuckled. "He might not be. After all, he sent me to train you."

I looked at him confused and couldn't help but notice for the first time how striking the Colonel was. Almost as broad and tall as the General, his long braid tousled with strands of wavy black hair falling into his face. I saw that he was wearing two small gold earrings on each side of the pointy tip and another bigger one at the lobe. If he had been human, I would have estimated him to be only a little bit older than me, but I was clueless about Veril aging.

"What does he want me to train for?"

He shrugged. "Vo'ren says that you are terrible at fighting and in desperate need of some instruction. He also said that you kicked his shin so pathetically that you probably hurt your foot." He laughed again.

All in all, I got the impression that Vik Ichel found me incredibly amusing. And my face heated as I remembered the things he had seen the General do to me. To the Veril I was nothing more than his little toy. My whole worth had been reduced to my body and whatever use it had for the General.

We had arrived at two small guard tents framing the entrance of the field, and when we stepped into the middle of the wide place covered by dusty earth and the occasional bushel of dry yellow grass, the bustling of the training soldiers slowed down as everybody was trying to steal a glance at us--at me--whispering with their comrades like wind between leaves.

Vik Ichel barked an angry-sounding order, and everybody saluted and got back to training as before. I was mesmerized by the different kinds of weapons: guns, crossbows, swords, and rifles; by the occasional bursts of magic; and the pure elegance and speed of the fighters.

"One round around the field, Thirteen," the Colonel snapped me out of my thoughts.

Oh no, I really didn't feel like running right now.

"I haven't eaten my bread yet," I tried to stall.

"Your mistake," he remarked, snatching it out of my hand. "You can eat when you are done running." I noticed for the first time that the interpreter was not translating back into Veril except for an occasional word or phrase, so Vik Ichel

did

understand English well enough.

"Actually, I'm not even allowed to speak with you. I think I should better wait for the Shenik."

"Nice try Thirteen, but I am the exception. No go!" He showed me his pointy teeth, and I decided not to push my luck and make another high-ranking Veril angry tonight; the General was enough for now.

So I did as I was told, setting off with a steady trot. To my surprise, it went better than expected, and I was not even that out of breath upon finishing the round, still full of energy. Vik Ichel looked unimpressed nonetheless.

"Another round," he ordered, and I felt like arguing a bit.

"Why does Vo'ren want me to run rounds?" I really liked how the General's name felt on my tongue as I realized my disgust.

"I do not know," Vik Ichel sneered impatiently. "Maybe he is unsatisfied with your performance?"

I was pretty sure the translator had censored that and that the Colonel had actually used a lot stronger words.

"I can guarantee you that I have

never

left him unsatisfied," I hissed. It was true, and for some reason, it filled me with an absurd type of pride. I was definitely starting to lose my marbles.

Vik Ichel snickered at my reply, and I felt my cheeks heat. "Well, then it must be because he wants his woman to be fit and healthy, prepared for her pregnancy. Another round."

I was seething, but my anger helped with running, and running helped with my anger. I lay all my pent-up frustration into my legs, letting it push me compel me forward. And my strict trainer seemed happier with me this time.

I ran and ran round after round under the starry sky until the muscles in my thighs burned. The dust of the dry ground was sticking to my sweaty skin, and I began to wish my light and cool blanket dress back when Vik Ichel told me it was enough. He handed me the bread and a leather canteen, and I ate and drank gratefully. I felt lighter now after the physical exercise and a lot more relaxed.

The Colonel went on to show me some basic defense techniques: how to cover myself, how to stand firmly, how to hit without injuring my fingers. To my surprise, he was a good teacher, strict but patient enough to correct me over and over again, even though I was a terrible student.

It was laughable anyway, I thought as I punched the air, steeling a glance at one of the warriors training not far from us. He dodged a glowing arrow in full flight with such a quick and fluid motion that my brain could almost not comprehend. Meanwhile, I was standing here, apparently not even able to properly form a fist. How were we humans ever going to fight against that? I was starting to feel hopeless again.

"And in case you want to kick Vo'ren again--which I can only wholeheartedly encourage--I can show you a more effective way to do it," Vik Ichel added.

His joke was the last straw, as it brought back memories of the fight and how completely defenseless I was against the General. I felt tears well up in my eyes again.

Vik Ichel halted and gave me a serious look. Although I had to admit that he had been pretty decent today, the few innuendos aside, I was mortified to show that much emotion, especially in front of him.

"I'm sorry," I wiped my eyes frantically.

Vik Ichel shook his head at my apology. "Everybody cries on their first days with the Kirtim Shenk."

"Even you?" I sniffed.

"Definitely." He laughed.

"Even Shenik Tsul?" I asked.

The Colonel gritted his teeth. "He was still a child when he was drafted, so yes."

I stared at him. "A child? Like a teenager?"

"No, a child like a child." His voice had a tinge of bitterness.

"Is that common?" I was still completely perplexed by this information.

"It is not common but also not unheard of. If a child shows abilities that are deemed too valuable too useful, they sometimes want to put them on the

right track

early." Vik Ichel shook his head again. "Vo'ren has tried to change the practice since he is Sheniktir, but the Counsel does not want to give up such an advantageous tradition. So all he could do was make sure that the boys would not have to fight in any of the real battles until they were older, no matter how useful their abilities were."

He paused for a moment. "Of course now we have no children, and therefore there are no more children in the Kirtim Shenk either. I think Officer Kinich here is one of our youngest." He patted the interpreter on the back, and Officer Kinich smiled, seemingly happy to be acknowledged.

"So it isn't a voluntary decision to join the Kirtim Shenk?" I asked

"No," Vik Ichel said with a joyless laugh. "Not for some of us."

I didn't dare ask Vik Ichel if he himself had joined out of free will, but I thought I already knew the answer. I had seen him manifest out of pure shadow, surely a valuable ability for the army. I looked around at the soldiers training, preparing for their next fight.

Obligated to fight and die for their people

, as the General had put it. And I realized that, just as with mine, their worth was reduced to their bodies as well.

I startled as Vik Ichel leaned over and whispered in heavily accented but pretty decent English, "We must train one thing more. Come."

He gestured for me to follow him. We stopped at one of the tents guarding the entrance of the field. I looked around for the interpreter, but he had disappeared. The sentinel on duty saluted and left immediately after Vik Ichel had given a short order.

"Come," he said again, and stepped into the small tent.

I hesitated. This was a mistake. Maybe the General would trust his friend to train with me, but I was pretty sure that he would not want me to go into such a tiny space alone with another man.

Vik Ichel turned around to me and nodded, satisfied to see me wait. I blinked. Had I just passed some kind of really stupid loyalty test?

"Good Thirteen. But Vo'ren wants that I look at your shadows."

Confused I looked at the ground behind me, but of course it was night, and my vision was not

that

good that I could make out the shadow cast by my figure in mere starlight.

"No," Vik Ichel rolled his eyes. "The shadows

in

you." He pointed to his chest.

And finally, I understood why such a high-ranking official of the Kirtim Shenk was training me himself. It was so the leader of the General's Shadow Guard could examine the strange darkness that had risen in me at my binding. Now that idea made me want to get into the tent even less, but I had no choice.

The inside was small, with just a few simple cushions on the floor. The guards must have been playing some kind of game with what looked suspiciously like carved bones, and while I stared at them, I realized that so far nobody had noted that I could suddenly see in the dark. But maybe it was easy to forget if you are used to living at night.

Just like we keep buying colorful toys for our dogs, forgetting that they don't see the world as we do

, I thought bitterly.

Vik Ichel stood in the middle of the tent and gestured for me to step in front of him, which I did. I was facing him now, sweating in the muggy air. He turned his arms, exposing his wrists, and breathed in demonstratively, gesturing for me to copy him, which I did. Our respective marks were glowing, mine faintly, but his stronger and stronger as he summoned his magic.

The darkness around him seemed to deepen. He placed his hands around my wrists, and I winced. Unlike the soothing touch of the General, the sore magic in my arm almost hissed in contact with Vik Ichel's, and I felt him starting to tug on it, calling deep inside of me, trying to coax out the presumed shadows, but while the night around him condensed until he was completely invisible, my insides stayed fortunately empty.

"

Shuk Iskich

, do like last time the shadows came," Vik Ichel said, reappearing in clouds of darkness.

"I did nothing; I think it was Vo'ren who set it free," I whispered.

He nodded pensively and tried to pull it out of me once more. I gritted my teeth at the bubbling pain in my wrists, but as nothing happened, Vik Ichel indicated that I should follow him out of the tent.

The interpreter stepped to our sides as soon as we were on the dusty field again, like he had been summoned.

Able to express himself better through the translation, Vik Ichel said, "I think Vo'ren is not aware of doing what you just told me. Tell him to do it again, and next time, pay attention to how it works."

I agreed. But to myself, I thought that I was definitely not going to ask the General to repeat what he had done at the ceremony. I gently massaged my hurting wrist. Besides, I was actually happy that the darkness had not reappeared. Maybe it had only been some unknown side effect of the binding and the other magic in the room that night meeting in my human body. Maybe it had nothing to do with me in particular, I hoped.

We resumed our former defense, practicing the movements we had learned before, and I thought that I had maybe made a tiny bit of progress.

All of a sudden, everybody halted, turned to the entrance of the training field, and saluted. This time I felt it, too: a pressure in my left wrist, and I knew the General had arrived. My stomach twisted. Why was he here? Had he found out about the map? I didn't dare look at him.

"Shenik Tsul," whispered my translator out of the corner of his mouth.

Apparently, he feared that my insolence might reflect badly on him. Reluctantly, I turned around. The General stood only three steps behind me, intimidating and magnificent in his full uniform and armor. Seeing him surrounded by his army made it really sink in who he was--that this man was Tsul Vo'ren, who had forced my country to its knees. The great Conqueror, as the Conduit had called him, and the thought made me tremble.

He gave me a lopsided smile and almost imperceptibly inclined his head.