CANELIS FRACHDAL's promotion comes with a price and that is to investigate a supply issue in the army. Upon arrival, she is greeted with a renegade camp underneath the Army's nose, a magical anomaly creeping inward from the ocean, and warring sides...
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2407 Iclis 7, Jyda
Canelis tightened the belt to her tunic, relishing the clink her sheathed sword made against her leg. It was always a comfort, knowing her trusty weapon was by her no matter what happened. Her reflection on the mirror stared back at her, familiar and, at the same time, not. She set her jaw in a passive scowl and urged her gaze away from her own face.
Instead, it landed on the opened tomes strewn around the mats covering the floor of her room. The hand-painted diagrams of succulents and other interesting plants all over Peltra waved at the ceiling. Orbs of captured light illuminated the expanse, showing Canelis enough of what she needed to perceive this morning. With a snap of her fingers, she recalled the conjured light back to her system, her veins flaring for a second before cooling down to match the cold wind flitting through the fortress. The natural sunlight streaming from the shutters she withdrew earlier filled its absence.
With a sigh, she crouched by the pile of tomes and picked up the first one. The leather-bound vault of knowledge gave a hearty thump as she clicked it shut with one hand. Slotting it above her lap, she did the same thing with the other tomes. By the time she picked up the last one, the pile on her lap reached her shoulders. Balancing them while remaining in her crouched position became hard. So, she straightened, bracing the stack at the bottom with her fingers.
The wooden table with interesting patterns of rings and lines creaked when she deposited the stack. Canelis ran a hand against the cover of the topmost tome, feeling the etches and grooves it contained. She might have to talk with its maker or the trader who handed this to her. Some of the contents required more explanations, especially in terms of their care and maintainance.
At the thought, her eyes flicked to the hidden door in her rooms where she stashed her indoor garden. It's not that much of a secret since maintenance people as well as the Riogener knew about it, but she had deluded herself to think that it was. It was a miracle, too, that the Riogener approved of it when she submitted the proposal for its construction. If she had to bet her versallis, it might be General Varkas' fault. The General, and also Canelis's combat instructor for so long, had expressed for the most part the importance of soldiers having other things to occupy their minds other than battle.
"The thoughts of fighting, violence, and war need not swallow a soldier's day in times of peace," General Varkas had said during one of their numerous sparring sessions. "Try to find something to take your mind off things. Paint. Sing. Play some music."
And now, six years later, Canelis had taken to raising succulents.
It wasn't even popular among the soldiers her age or in the ones beyond her. The entire species of thorny plants with bulbous and often water-filled bodies just had a different allure than say, running one's brush dipped with paint over a wall of thin parchment.
The sheets nailed on the stone walls bearing depictions of mountains, trees, rivers, and forest birds told her otherwise. Most of the pictures Canelis painted when she went and look for a hobby. Others bore words she had written when a particular day had, in the flower-children's language, sucked. Nevermind that, then. Painting was Canelis's hobby as much as it was cultivating ornamental plants.
