Trials

Chapter 1.1: What are You, Who am I?

Ten years later...

August 26th, 10782, Eerie Facility, Day.

Heavy rain pelted against the glass double panes of Eerie facility. The drops made the kind of sound that told people to stare out into the vast expanse of forest and watch the rain. One of Jensen's favorite things to do was to look at the falling droplets or sheens of water that fell from the sky and feel everything else in his life just drift away from him. Eons of pain were lifted from his shoulders and flowed out through the air in his chest. Today he stood in front of one of the thick windows, allowing himself to drift while he waited.

His reprieve was short. Captain Molotov entered the empty greeting room with a proud, long stride and a smile. Jensen instinctively tensed his leg muscles before relaxing into a slightly more formal posture that every soldier knew, clasping his hands behind his back and widening his feet. Molotov radiated superiority and knowledge that he was the best fighter and the strongest sorcerer. Jensen frowned, thinking to himself, he carries his body like he carries his talents. I could crush him with my grace so fast, he would never know I'd even thought of doing it. Then his frown deepened and his heart tugged at him. Don't think those kinds of thoughts.

"Mr. Ebon, it really seems like something's troubling you." Jensen turned away from the window and looked up to see Captain Molotov's concerned gaze resting on him. He immediately schooled his features and shook his head.

"No sir, I was just watching the rain," Jensen replied. Molotov nodded and turned to face the windows with a perceptive look. Jensen envisioned the man with a huge spyglass, willing his eyes to see straight through the trees and to the Divide. Perhaps he really could see through the gnarled branches and all the way out to the huge mountain range, to Jensen's creation. He probably knew the terrain very well, training and fighting there since he became a true Cai warrior. Admiration for the fellow fighter flickered in Jensen's heart.

"It is beautiful, sir." Jensen shifted on his feet and gazed at the Captain and the rain outside.

"I see you have as much appreciation for the Earth and the sky as I do.... There are so few people around here who care about nature. So many people wish only to get military power or become a warrior. It's all about the honor or the bravery or becoming a true adult. They don't recognise the true magnificence in front of them." The Captain turned to face the young man, and Jensen suddenly felt the spy-glass eyes turn on him, piercing into his grace and soul, rather than the trees and mist outside. "Is that what you want? Are you here to prove yourself, Mr. Ebon?" Jensen knew that the truth was the only answer that would suffice for the Captain's uncanny perception. Jensen closed his eyes and searched his heart. What am I really here for? I am here to seek justice for the needless execution of my brothers and sisters, but is that all? Am I here to prove myself?

"No," Jensen bit out harshly. He then paused and blinked, taking a small step back, adjusting his stance and clearing his throat to begin again. "I am not here for myself. I am here because being a warrior is in my nature and I must fight for those who cannot fight for themselves. I have seen so many fall for the glory and honor of being a warrior, and I know that each of them became lost in history among the masses of other soldiers who have no aim, no goal. I did not get to where I am today by fighting for myself."

The Captain smiled. Jensen's response seemed to satisfy his question. "Drive. You stand by your friends and defend until you're the last one who can." Jensen nodded and the Captain leaned in toward him slightly. "Hell of a thing you did in Saroviana. Carrying that 16-year-old girl on your back through the war zone, all the way up the mountain in Heenas territory. You have excellent magical skills."

Jensen's automatic response came out of him in a rushed "Thank you sir."

The Captain leaned back again and returned to the window. "And your first solo mission in Jamal. You were able to completely stifle the Heenas spy fiasco and you saved two of our men from certain death. It's not easy to do something like that without extensive solo training. It is clear that you have a terrific driving cause. It's one of the most impactful qualities for a solo operator."

Jensen nodded. "A big part of operation in the field is the ability to keep going without a partner. The loneliness can be... detrimental to morale and mission quality."

The Captain grinned and gave Jensen a pat on the back. The contact startled Jensen and he fought to stifle the urge to step out of reach. "Very well. I see that you are very ready to get into action. The first few missions will be a test run, mostly to find your most useful skill set. I assume you are up to date on the protocol for this facility."

"Yes sir. All of my missions are coordinated from this center. All field contacts will originate from this facility. Information is relayed by footwork or number stations. Assets can be made without authorization, but permission is required to terminate an asset."

The Captain sighed. "You know, it would be very helpful for you to lose the strict soldier vibe. Branch out a little. Maybe in the days before we send you to the field you can pick up a hobby. Like knitting or swimming or something."

"Knitting?" Jensen echoed lamely.

"Yes. Something that passes the time. Gets you out of your shell."

Jensen set his jaw and crossed his arms. "I clean my sword to pass the time."

The Captain pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm starting to wonder how you blend in so well with normal society."

"Well sir," Jensen replied, "I can assure you that public perception of me is usually very skewed by their opinions of my appearance. I see no reason to change this."

"Fine, fine. I see that there is no point in this line of conversation. Back to business. Many of our solo operators often express their desire to say goodbye to friends and family before they ship out. Is there anyone I can call?"

Jensen shook his head swiftly.

"Very well. If you need anything, I am willing to provide whatever I can."

Jensen bowed his head and turned to take his leave.

"Wait!" the Captain called. Jensen stopped and turned his head. "You are one of the finest and noblest soldiers I have ever met. You perform feats of miracle on the battlefield and use your magic with such precision that I could only envy. Your tactical skills are almost unparalleled. You have the highest clearance level for a Cai official, level 20. You could command your own squadron and beyond that. Maybe you could take over my job, if anything ever happened to me. You could have your own facility some day. Why do you opt to be a lonely solo operative? I could use a brilliant tactician working beside me-"

"Your words are kind, sir, and I am humbled. But you should know this; I am and will always be a warrior, not a commander. That is who I am to the core."

"Very well. You have no need to explain yourself." The Captain turned away from Jensen and walked to the door on the opposite side of the room. "When will you choose to lead?"

Jensen's face morphed into stone. He saw Xaiel, the Violet Archangel, standing next to him in all her glory, raising her sword and giving a battle cry. He saw the thousands of Angels standing at his feet, looking up to him in awe and wonder. He saw the battlefield, carrying that girl on his back through a hail of gunfire. He saw the squad members he buried, dead because no one heeded his warning and hid like he said they should. He saw the Heenas spy at his mercy, screaming at him to end it, even though he could not and did not. He saw flaws, mistakes, pain.

"I will not." Jensen replied gruffly. From across the room, the Captain raised his head, but did not turn around. Jensen released his paused stride and exited the room, letting his shoes echo with the rhythmic pitter-patter pelting of the rain against the glass double panes.