Caellum Aquila knelt before the statues of the Vis, and though the walls of the little shabby church were thin enough to hear the street beyond, Caellum ignored them. Here, now, in this very sanctuary, he was before the Vis. He took his time to honor each one of them in turn, but it was at Aquila that he paused for the longest time.
Stalwart Aquila, honorable god of my family from whom we took our name, grant me your wings today so that I might find myself ready to face the challenges. Let me be a humble messenger, a gentle example, and a purposeful servant.
He concluded his prayers, once again by paying respects to each of the other four Vis and pulling from his pocket a shimmering black feather. It had cost him a hefty sum, even with his brother’s help, as crow feathers were rare in this part of Secare. It was well worth it, however, as he knew the traditions of his family lived on through him -- and one day through his children.
Caellum placed the feather at the altar where the four statues resided, genuflected, and left the small private prayer room in silence. He made a polite farewell to the priest before he was back out of the church and into the bustling streets of Prenditus.
Crowds of people surged this way or that way with an energy that filled Caellum with pride.
Prenditus. His city, his home, where he had lived the majority of his life and the place he would protect until his death. His eyes scanned the river of people, taking note of the Prenditian lancers who marched a little too stiffly. Terrigan’s men, he noted with certainty as he caught sight of their unit insignia. The crowd parted for them and the lancers paid no mind.
Guard change, then, not city patrol.
Something small and fast broke out of the crowd of people and bolted straight for Caellum. The thing struck with all the force of something that did not know its own weight and clung to him as he shuffled back from the sudden force.
With a gleeful, musical tone reserved only for happy children, Vita cried out, “Daddy!”
Caellum chuckled, pulled Vita away and hoisted her up into the air. Only seven years old, but with so much of her mother’s looks and her father’s perpetual energy -- or was that just because of her age? How many times had she run him ragged in a game of tag? Laughing and smiling in a way that seemed -- as it did now -- to put the sunlight of Caesar to shame.
“A-ha!” Caellum cried out in response as he threw his daughter into the air, “What have we here? Some forest spirit let loose in fair Prenditus, I should think!” She giggled as he set her down and threw herself into a hug that hardly encircled him. “But what’s this? Where’s your faithful companion?”
Just then, another voice joined them, calling out with no small amount of distress, “Vita! Vita wait! You can’t just run off like that!”
Grinning, Caellum soon witnessed his brother extract himself from the sea of busy folk to stumble and finally collapse nearby. His breathing was heavy and Caellum worried for a brief moment that Tellus was having a fit. Merciful Castus, his worries were set aside when his brother waved to say he was okay. He still lay on the ground looking up at the other two, though.
“Truly, little forest spirit,” Caellum said to Vita, “you cannot be so troubling to your uncle, can you? You are a good spirit, yes?”
The little girl, whose shining brown eyes did not dare look up at her father, sheepishly replied, “Yeeeeees.”
“And as a good spirit, you did not run from him, truth?”
“I did not,” she replied with all the unbelieving honesty of a playful child.
“Oh, she ran alright,” his brother chimed in between ragged breaths. “Wouldn’t stand to help with stocking at the shop. Bolted the moment I got her to sit still.”
Caellum chuckled, and looked back to Vita who was now looking up and looked as ever a child does when they assume they’re in trouble but not yet sure. Caellum rested a reassuring hand on his daughter’s head, “And what, pray-tell, drove you to run all this way to me?”
“I don’t want to stay with Uncle Tel today. His shop is boring.” Pouting, Vita started swaying where she stood before looking up, “Can’t I come with you? I want to watch the soldiers train!”
“Might as well let her,” Tellus said, finally finding the strength to roll off of his back and stand up. Still, he didn’t stand completely straight. He was hunched over and his shaggy brown hair combined to make him look more like a well dressed beggar instead of an honest merchant. “She’s got her mother’s stubborn streak, Cael, and you and I both know I’d have to tie her to the shop’s rafters just to keep her there an hour.”
Caellum’s jaw worked for a moment as he considered, and his own grey eyes shifted between his brother and his daughter while he weighed the two options. Finally, with a reluctant sigh, he said, “All right.”
“Yes!”
“Thank the Vis!”
Caellum rolled his eyes but clasped his brother on the shoulder, “Will you be over tonight, brother? Serenity hasn’t seen you in weeks, and she worries you’ve been locked in your storeroom again -- despite my reassurances that you haven’t.”
“One time, you get locked in your store once,” Tellus looked to Vita as one does when looking for help. “They never give you a break afterwards, V, not once.” Returning to speak with Caellum, the younger Aquila brother replied, “Tell Serenity I will be there.”
Tellus parted then, staying only a moment long enough to get a hug from Vita. Then, with no more distractions, Caellum began making his way through the crowd (with Vita in tow) and towards the barracks. By now he could expect Lucas to be drilling the new recruits, or just as likely the man was forcing the recruits to listen as he spouted philosophy. Either way, the men would be up and his work would begin.
As the two grew closer to the military compounds buildings became less frequent, and the variety of pitched roofed houses with their myriad of colors gave way to squat uniformed buildings in pale yellow paints. The river of people also subsided and in their place marched more and more groups of soldiers. Few were milling about, returning from their long night on watch, while others who just woke up spent little time slacking off. Sergeants were barking orders, marching their men from point A to point B preparing them to be part of a well-oiled machine.
He could already hear the dulled thunderclaps of the firing ranges where the rifle squads were practicing, and accompanying it was the unmistakable sound of ringing metal as weapons and shields alike deflected blows. Gunpowder and oils assaulted the noise and there was a general feeling of motion. Something somewhere was being done. There was no rest here, only activity.
It was enough to excite a person, and Caellum found himself walking a little taller, his smile a bit brighter, as he did everyday that he arrived at the compound. Vita likewise began bouncing with every step, and her eyes couldn’t settle at any one place.
It wasn’t much longer before they arrived at Regiment Five’s barracks and standing impatiently next to the unit sign waiting for Caellum was Lieutenant Augustus Perl in his garrison uniform instead of his duty uniform. He looked less like a soldier preparing to undertake his duties, and more like a noble about to attend a gala event.
Immediately, Caellum felt the wind stricken from him and he slowed his steps but pointedly did not stop. Vita, for her part, took one look at Perl and likewise lost the spring in her step. He wished he’d been better about complaining to Serenity. Maybe Vita wouldn’t say anything, but all the same….
“Vita,” Caellum looked down to his daughter and she looked back. A shadow of worry across her tiny face, “run along and find Lucas. See what he and the new recruits are up to, but don’t get in their way.”
She hesitated, but finally nodded and said, “Okay.”
He watched for a moment as she hurried into Regiment Five’s training grounds. He waited until he saw her duck behind one of the barracks where she would be in clear sight of all the recruits who were by now waiting on him.
Caellum turned his attention to the officer and saluted, “Good morning Lieutenant Perl. What brings you out to Regiment Five?”
The lieutenant closed the distance between them, and it was only when the laicar was arms-length from him that he was reminded of how short the man truly was. The garrison outfit didn’t help any, as it was meant to be worn when the soldiers were on-call but not on-duty and was fancy enough that they were allowed to wear it to formal events -- provided it met inspection. Perl didn’t look like an officer who commanded respect, and he didn’t, but being shorter than Caellum and dressed as he was, the sergeant had to remind himself about his discipline and smothered any smirk that threatened to creep over his face.
Perl looked like a thundercloud, dark and ominous and likely to be as loud. He wasn’t known for his patience or his kindness. He had papers in his left hand that he slapped against Caellum’s chest, “Three of your men were seen at a local bar last night. I want them formally discharged by this afternoon!”
Taking a deep breath, Caellum began his reply in measured tones, careful to keep any disrespect from his voice, “Sir, thank you for bringing this to my attention. You know I take misconduct seriously, so if any of my men snuck out last night you can expect a just punishment.”
“This is not an ‘if,’ sergeant,” Perl seethed. Caellum could almost hear the other man’s teeth as he ground them against one another. “My centuries spotted three of your men leaving the barracks late last night, and followed them!”
“So your men saw them leave?”
“Yes.”
“And enter the bar.”
“Yes!”
“And your men witnessed them drinking? Fighting?”
“It doesn’t matter what they were doing,” Perl shouted, and Caellum bit back any comment. The lieutenant was not done. “They were in a bar! Regulations state that under no circumstances will any recruit enter any establishment after hours that is not a residence!”
Caellum took the papers from Perl, and began studying them just to keep himself half-busy. “Then I assume your men called the guard to have these men escorted to gaol?” His brows furrowed as he read the documents. The establishment in question wasn’t a bar, Caellum had been there several times himself on night-duty to catch new recruits who thought they could break regulation and not get caught, though it did serve alcohol. But that was irrelevant. This was about him, and how the officer wanted to prove a point.
Augustus Perl was the second oldest son of a well-to-do family, practically royalty except that they weren’t true-blooded citizens. The Perl family had moved from Terminus some years ago, and had managed to work their way up but many still considered them no better than second-class citizens. That had left Augustus Perl with a bit of a chip on his shoulder, and he wanted everyone to know it. So he bossed them around like everyone else was beneath him.
When Perl didn’t answer Caellum’s question, the sergeant looked up and asked, “Sir?” Perl was beet red and looked like he was ready to explode.
“Each of those men had best be on their way out, Sergeant. That--is--an--order.”
“I understand what it is, sir, but it is also an unlawful one. You’re not the commanding officer of Regiment Five, and you’re not the company officer either. Any and all decisions about persons under training have to be brought to the attention of the Captain.” Making a polite bow, if only to appease the man’s ego, Caellum offered, “I will take these papers to the Captain after I address the men. Along with your recommendation, of course.”
Perl didn’t offer any sort of confirmation and instead stormed off. Back towards his own regiment.
Caellum watched as the other man left, his brows once again furrowed as he wondered what that had been really about. “If anyone is going to know,” he muttered with a grim sort of finality, “it’s going to be the men.”
Without wasting another moment, Caellum marched into Regiment Five.
Stalwart Aquila, honorable god of my family from whom we took our name, grant me your wings today so that I might find myself ready to face the challenges. Let me be a humble messenger, a gentle example, and a purposeful servant.
He concluded his prayers, once again by paying respects to each of the other four Vis and pulling from his pocket a shimmering black feather. It had cost him a hefty sum, even with his brother’s help, as crow feathers were rare in this part of Secare. It was well worth it, however, as he knew the traditions of his family lived on through him -- and one day through his children.
Caellum placed the feather at the altar where the four statues resided, genuflected, and left the small private prayer room in silence. He made a polite farewell to the priest before he was back out of the church and into the bustling streets of Prenditus.
Crowds of people surged this way or that way with an energy that filled Caellum with pride.
Prenditus. His city, his home, where he had lived the majority of his life and the place he would protect until his death. His eyes scanned the river of people, taking note of the Prenditian lancers who marched a little too stiffly. Terrigan’s men, he noted with certainty as he caught sight of their unit insignia. The crowd parted for them and the lancers paid no mind.
Guard change, then, not city patrol.
Something small and fast broke out of the crowd of people and bolted straight for Caellum. The thing struck with all the force of something that did not know its own weight and clung to him as he shuffled back from the sudden force.
With a gleeful, musical tone reserved only for happy children, Vita cried out, “Daddy!”
Caellum chuckled, pulled Vita away and hoisted her up into the air. Only seven years old, but with so much of her mother’s looks and her father’s perpetual energy -- or was that just because of her age? How many times had she run him ragged in a game of tag? Laughing and smiling in a way that seemed -- as it did now -- to put the sunlight of Caesar to shame.
“A-ha!” Caellum cried out in response as he threw his daughter into the air, “What have we here? Some forest spirit let loose in fair Prenditus, I should think!” She giggled as he set her down and threw herself into a hug that hardly encircled him. “But what’s this? Where’s your faithful companion?”
Just then, another voice joined them, calling out with no small amount of distress, “Vita! Vita wait! You can’t just run off like that!”
Grinning, Caellum soon witnessed his brother extract himself from the sea of busy folk to stumble and finally collapse nearby. His breathing was heavy and Caellum worried for a brief moment that Tellus was having a fit. Merciful Castus, his worries were set aside when his brother waved to say he was okay. He still lay on the ground looking up at the other two, though.
“Truly, little forest spirit,” Caellum said to Vita, “you cannot be so troubling to your uncle, can you? You are a good spirit, yes?”
The little girl, whose shining brown eyes did not dare look up at her father, sheepishly replied, “Yeeeeees.”
“And as a good spirit, you did not run from him, truth?”
“I did not,” she replied with all the unbelieving honesty of a playful child.
“Oh, she ran alright,” his brother chimed in between ragged breaths. “Wouldn’t stand to help with stocking at the shop. Bolted the moment I got her to sit still.”
Caellum chuckled, and looked back to Vita who was now looking up and looked as ever a child does when they assume they’re in trouble but not yet sure. Caellum rested a reassuring hand on his daughter’s head, “And what, pray-tell, drove you to run all this way to me?”
“I don’t want to stay with Uncle Tel today. His shop is boring.” Pouting, Vita started swaying where she stood before looking up, “Can’t I come with you? I want to watch the soldiers train!”
“Might as well let her,” Tellus said, finally finding the strength to roll off of his back and stand up. Still, he didn’t stand completely straight. He was hunched over and his shaggy brown hair combined to make him look more like a well dressed beggar instead of an honest merchant. “She’s got her mother’s stubborn streak, Cael, and you and I both know I’d have to tie her to the shop’s rafters just to keep her there an hour.”
Caellum’s jaw worked for a moment as he considered, and his own grey eyes shifted between his brother and his daughter while he weighed the two options. Finally, with a reluctant sigh, he said, “All right.”
“Yes!”
“Thank the Vis!”
Caellum rolled his eyes but clasped his brother on the shoulder, “Will you be over tonight, brother? Serenity hasn’t seen you in weeks, and she worries you’ve been locked in your storeroom again -- despite my reassurances that you haven’t.”
“One time, you get locked in your store once,” Tellus looked to Vita as one does when looking for help. “They never give you a break afterwards, V, not once.” Returning to speak with Caellum, the younger Aquila brother replied, “Tell Serenity I will be there.”
Tellus parted then, staying only a moment long enough to get a hug from Vita. Then, with no more distractions, Caellum began making his way through the crowd (with Vita in tow) and towards the barracks. By now he could expect Lucas to be drilling the new recruits, or just as likely the man was forcing the recruits to listen as he spouted philosophy. Either way, the men would be up and his work would begin.
As the two grew closer to the military compounds buildings became less frequent, and the variety of pitched roofed houses with their myriad of colors gave way to squat uniformed buildings in pale yellow paints. The river of people also subsided and in their place marched more and more groups of soldiers. Few were milling about, returning from their long night on watch, while others who just woke up spent little time slacking off. Sergeants were barking orders, marching their men from point A to point B preparing them to be part of a well-oiled machine.
He could already hear the dulled thunderclaps of the firing ranges where the rifle squads were practicing, and accompanying it was the unmistakable sound of ringing metal as weapons and shields alike deflected blows. Gunpowder and oils assaulted the noise and there was a general feeling of motion. Something somewhere was being done. There was no rest here, only activity.
It was enough to excite a person, and Caellum found himself walking a little taller, his smile a bit brighter, as he did everyday that he arrived at the compound. Vita likewise began bouncing with every step, and her eyes couldn’t settle at any one place.
It wasn’t much longer before they arrived at Regiment Five’s barracks and standing impatiently next to the unit sign waiting for Caellum was Lieutenant Augustus Perl in his garrison uniform instead of his duty uniform. He looked less like a soldier preparing to undertake his duties, and more like a noble about to attend a gala event.
Immediately, Caellum felt the wind stricken from him and he slowed his steps but pointedly did not stop. Vita, for her part, took one look at Perl and likewise lost the spring in her step. He wished he’d been better about complaining to Serenity. Maybe Vita wouldn’t say anything, but all the same….
“Vita,” Caellum looked down to his daughter and she looked back. A shadow of worry across her tiny face, “run along and find Lucas. See what he and the new recruits are up to, but don’t get in their way.”
She hesitated, but finally nodded and said, “Okay.”
He watched for a moment as she hurried into Regiment Five’s training grounds. He waited until he saw her duck behind one of the barracks where she would be in clear sight of all the recruits who were by now waiting on him.
Caellum turned his attention to the officer and saluted, “Good morning Lieutenant Perl. What brings you out to Regiment Five?”
The lieutenant closed the distance between them, and it was only when the laicar was arms-length from him that he was reminded of how short the man truly was. The garrison outfit didn’t help any, as it was meant to be worn when the soldiers were on-call but not on-duty and was fancy enough that they were allowed to wear it to formal events -- provided it met inspection. Perl didn’t look like an officer who commanded respect, and he didn’t, but being shorter than Caellum and dressed as he was, the sergeant had to remind himself about his discipline and smothered any smirk that threatened to creep over his face.
Perl looked like a thundercloud, dark and ominous and likely to be as loud. He wasn’t known for his patience or his kindness. He had papers in his left hand that he slapped against Caellum’s chest, “Three of your men were seen at a local bar last night. I want them formally discharged by this afternoon!”
Taking a deep breath, Caellum began his reply in measured tones, careful to keep any disrespect from his voice, “Sir, thank you for bringing this to my attention. You know I take misconduct seriously, so if any of my men snuck out last night you can expect a just punishment.”
“This is not an ‘if,’ sergeant,” Perl seethed. Caellum could almost hear the other man’s teeth as he ground them against one another. “My centuries spotted three of your men leaving the barracks late last night, and followed them!”
“So your men saw them leave?”
“Yes.”
“And enter the bar.”
“Yes!”
“And your men witnessed them drinking? Fighting?”
“It doesn’t matter what they were doing,” Perl shouted, and Caellum bit back any comment. The lieutenant was not done. “They were in a bar! Regulations state that under no circumstances will any recruit enter any establishment after hours that is not a residence!”
Caellum took the papers from Perl, and began studying them just to keep himself half-busy. “Then I assume your men called the guard to have these men escorted to gaol?” His brows furrowed as he read the documents. The establishment in question wasn’t a bar, Caellum had been there several times himself on night-duty to catch new recruits who thought they could break regulation and not get caught, though it did serve alcohol. But that was irrelevant. This was about him, and how the officer wanted to prove a point.
Augustus Perl was the second oldest son of a well-to-do family, practically royalty except that they weren’t true-blooded citizens. The Perl family had moved from Terminus some years ago, and had managed to work their way up but many still considered them no better than second-class citizens. That had left Augustus Perl with a bit of a chip on his shoulder, and he wanted everyone to know it. So he bossed them around like everyone else was beneath him.
When Perl didn’t answer Caellum’s question, the sergeant looked up and asked, “Sir?” Perl was beet red and looked like he was ready to explode.
“Each of those men had best be on their way out, Sergeant. That--is--an--order.”
“I understand what it is, sir, but it is also an unlawful one. You’re not the commanding officer of Regiment Five, and you’re not the company officer either. Any and all decisions about persons under training have to be brought to the attention of the Captain.” Making a polite bow, if only to appease the man’s ego, Caellum offered, “I will take these papers to the Captain after I address the men. Along with your recommendation, of course.”
Perl didn’t offer any sort of confirmation and instead stormed off. Back towards his own regiment.
Caellum watched as the other man left, his brows once again furrowed as he wondered what that had been really about. “If anyone is going to know,” he muttered with a grim sort of finality, “it’s going to be the men.”
Without wasting another moment, Caellum marched into Regiment Five.