Chapter 5: Antares

A sharp whistle sounded, and Antares shifted from his position, stopping at his next post. Letting out a sigh, he settled again. His flimsy training sword hung at his hip, more decorative than threatening.

The field stretched out in front of him, planted flat over the rising and lowering of the stone mountains. The walls of the Terris Guard base were dotted in the distance, a short walk from the open training grounds.

It was a typical practice drill, one where the trainees were instructed to guard a nearby Terris structure, relieving the typical soldiers for the night. They stood outside around the building, waiting for any nonexistent threat to appear. Antares was grouped with nine other recruits, their lighter green uniforms pathetically plain compared to those of their superiors. Antares didn’t even think they were guarding anything important. It was just a simple weapons storage, one of the many found around the Terris Court. One lone instructor stood nearby watching the trainees with a sharp eye. Edwin, Irwin, or something.

Truth be told, Antares was bored out of his mind. While his fellow trainees were taking their drill quite seriously, his mind was wandering. He knew that he would be here well into the night, testing his endurance and ability to stay awake and alert. Antares was secretly envious of the Night Watchers in his group, knowing that their Gift gave them the advantage of being able to see much better than him in the dark.

What if I just...ran off?

Shaking his head, he straightened his shoulders and continued to stare idly ahead of him, his boots pinching his toes. He didn’t need to create more trouble for himself.

Antares cocked his head, staring at the sky and the slowly setting sun when a glint of silver flashed in the corner of his eye. He immediately turned his head to look, but caught himself before bringing attention from his instructor. Instead, he strained his eyes to the right, trying to catch another glimpse of the silver past the girl at his side.

Curiosity overtook him, and using his Speed, he quickly turned to peek past the wall before bringing his head straight again. The movement sent a shock of pain in his neck, and he let out a low hiss, quickly rubbing it before dropping his hands behind his back again.

Let’s not do that again.

The silver had come into view again, and swiftly disappeared into the shadows of the evening.

Someone had been nearby. Antares managed to catch a glimpse of their clothing or armor before they had vanished. He stole a quick glance again, without his Speed this time, the area empty except for the one trainee. The girl had on her normal green uniform, not a spot of silver on her anywhere. She hadn’t even touched her sword, its shining gleam hidden by its sheath.

Another sharp whistle went through the air, and the group repositioned again, moving smoothly from one post to another. Antares walked rather quickly to the spot where the girl had been moments earlier, having vanished around the bend, scanning the area for anything.

Where are you?

Before he knew it, he had gone past his post and was nearing the thick forest behind the building. His eyes raked over the dark trees and shrubs, his face bunched in confusion. Was it a Runner? A Defender’s shimmering shield?

“Cadet Euphorion!”

The instructor’s voice cut sharply in the dusk, and Antares jumped, all thoughts of the silver scattering. He glanced at his position and hurried back to his post, his Speed kicking in on instinct.

“Apologies, sir,” he called out stiffly, coming to a stop by the corner. His cheeks warmed despite the cool of the incoming night.

“Never fall out of place, cadet. That is the universal law of the Guard, do try to keep it in that head of yours.”

Your stupid rules don’t mean anything to me.

“Yes, sir.” Antares looked straight ahead, murmurs and soft whispers coming from just within his earshot. He knew the trainees were talking about him, the son of the great Captain Euphorion.

Ever since the Ophelian war with Bathaar, a conflict that had taken place years before Antares was born, Cepheus Euphorion had been dubbed a hero of the Terris Court for his valor. His father was known for his ruthlessness and might, and eventually worked his way to the top while forging a path for his sons to follow. Archer and Janus managed to fulfill their father’s vision, but Antares staggered behind, to everyone’s surprise.

“Silence, cadets. You have a long night ahead of you, so I suggest you keep your minds sharp and your tongues quiet.”

The air stilled once again, and Antares kept his gaze on the now very low sun. He didn't think about the silver for the rest of the night.

✦✦✦

His arms burned as he clenched his sword, and Antares pulled back from Rigel, sweat trickling down his neck. The sun was high up, beating down on the duo.

“That was a rough one,” Rigel said, eyeing Antares carefully. He didn’t respond, focusing on the blade gripped in his hands. With a calculated swing, he cut from the side towards Rigel. His friend immediately moved to avoid the blow, but at the last second, Antares diverted its path, shifting downwards towards Rigel’s leg.

Right before he could strike, Rigel put in a burst of Speed and darted to the left, Antares stumbling forward into the open air. He automatically spun around, blade ready. Rigel didn’t give him a chance to reorient himself and shot forward, almost knocking Antares to the ground as he struck his sword.

Antares grunted, his hands turning white at the knuckles. After a moment, he shed Rigel’s blade, sliding it up its length before releasing its hold and stepping back. Rigel stepped back as well, studying him carefully as he pushed his chin-length hair away from his face.

Then with a ghost of his famous smirk, Rigel ran towards Antares in a blur, seemingly one step. Antares responded just as quickly, deflecting with a heavy swing. He swiftly darted around him, hitting Rigel in the back of his knees with the flat side of his sword. Rigel fell to the floor, his sword clattering on the stone.

Before he could point the tip of his sword under his friend’s chin, Rigel rolled away and grabbed his sword, bouncing back to his feet.

“You fiend, that was dirty,” he spat, dust coating his golden hair.

“But effective,” replied Antares, his face set in grim determination. He raced towards Rigel before he could respond, his Speed pumping into his legs. He went into a frenzy, attacking his partner from any angle he could. There was no strategy, just an exhausted, messy attack. Antares became a blur to the world as he let out the pent-up energy in him, discarding his normal calculated thoughts.

What Antares had in Speed, Rigel made up for in combat. Deflecting his partner’s attacks, he used a small burst of his power to nick Antares in the knee. It caught him off guard, his strikes faltering. Rigel used the distraction to go out and under from his friend’s circle of attack and hit him from behind. Before he knew it, Antares was on his back, looking up at Rigel as his sword grazed his chin.

“Yield.”

Antares dropped his head back on the ground and closed his eyes, taking in gulping breaths of air. “I yield, I yield.”

Rigel dropped his sword and extended his hand. “Something’s on your mind, Tare. Only amateurs fight relying solely on their Gift. Are you trying to have a burnout?”

Antares only grumbled in response as Rigel helped him up. Still, he felt at his internal reserves, finding that he had used up a considerable amount. He stalked over to the side of the yard and sat down on one of the wooden benches, dropping his sword on the ground with a clatter. A thin streak of blood cut through the dark cloth of his pants, and he tiredly dropped his head in his hands. He heard Rigel shuffle over, the tips of his boots appearing in Antares’ peripheral.

“Hey, have some water. It’s hot today.”

Antares grabbed the pail of water set aside and took a swing, some of the water staining his shirt. He wiped his mouth and stared at his friend, unsure of whether to tell him of his troubles. Yet, after a moment of consideration, he gave in—he knew he had to tell someone.

“I think I’m beginning to see things.”

Rigel raised an eyebrow, his face holding an almost amused look. “Drink some more water.”

“I’m serious.” He took another swing anyway.

Rigel hung his sword on the rack and snatched the pail from Antares, gulping some water down himself. “I’m too tired to argue. What have you been seeing?”

“See, that’s the thing. I don’t know. It’s silvery and fast.”

“Silvery and fast, huh?” Rigel tossed aside the now empty canteen and sat down.

Antares stood up, ignoring the soreness in his legs, and paced a couple of steps in front of the bench. The lace on his boot had come undone, but he took no notice.

“I think? I saw it on the patrol drill two nights ago, and I managed to catch a glimpse of it again before I got yelled at.”

“Was it an animal?”

“Doubtful. The only animal I can think of is the silver wolf, but they never venture so close to humans.”

“Animal eyes glint in the dark, you know.”

“Silver? Maybe, but the sun hadn’t completely set yet. Gold makes more sense if it was a glint.”

“Cadet’s pin?”

“The girl positioned near it had nothing on her. Heather, I think.”

“Oh, the Reader? I know her. Maybe her sword?”

“Never left her scabbard.”

Rigel threw up his hands in mock exasperation. “Well then, what else could it have been, Tare? For all I know, it could have been her eyes, running you down as she admired you.”

Antares paused his pacing, turning on his heel as he looked at Rigel quizzically. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh nothing.”

“Rigel, I swear, you are not helping.”

His friend let out a laugh, leaning back in his seat. “Aw, come on. Heather’s nice enough. You should stop worrying about whatever you think you saw and maybe get to know her.”

Antares had been in a relationship before—Ryanne, daughter of one of his father's commanders. She had been nice enough, but Antares hadn’t been able to navigate it properly, resulting in awkward meets and distant promises. Ryanne had called it off quickly after only a few weeks, and Antares had barely blinked at the change.

“No thanks.”

“Then maybe I will.”

Antares rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t suppress a small smirk. “Have fun with that.”

Rigel huffed. “I’m sure it was nothing. The mind can play mischievous games, all to bring a little excitement in our lives.”

Antares raked a hand through his curly hair, a doubtful look on his face. “Then this is playing a hell of a game on my nerves.”

“Aw, come on, Tare, you’re stressing yourself over nothing,” said Rigel, getting up and heading over to the weapons storage. “In a couple of days, you’ll realize that you’re being a fool like usual.”

Am I really just just being paranoid?

Antares nodded absentmindedly, still rooted in his spot. Rigel disappeared inside the outbuilding, a few faint bumps emitting from it. With a frustrated sigh, Antares picked up his sword, wiping its hilt before sliding it back into his sheath. Despite all his attempts to banish the thoughts of whatever he thought he saw, he still couldn’t shake them off.