The Elementalist

11. Elementalism, Archery, & Friendship-1

Elementalism, Archery, & FriendshipIn spite of Doctor Moore’s recommendation that Voi remain on bed rest for a week, she roused herself back into action only two days later. Laura was a nice person and all, but Voi could hardly endure her endless gloating about the numerous young—and not-so-young—men she’d nursed thus far in her budding career.

Itching to get out of the house, Voi decided to call up her archery partners to see whether they wouldn’t mind practicing that afternoon at Mayfield Park—with Laura’s permission, of course. “Actually, that could be therapeutic, shooting arrows,” the nurse had said.

Lila said she couldn’t come due to other engagements—typical Lila behavior of late, Voi noted—though Secily, the more competitive of the two, was quite up for the challenge.

As usual.

When Voi told Laura she was meeting Secily, the woman looked at her longingly. “Well, have fun.” She was standing by the window while Voi hovered near the door.

Voi felt guilty. “Say, would you like to join us, Laura?”

For a moment, it seemed she would take Voi up on her offer until her elated expression faded. “Wait, I can’t. There’s a lecture today in Collins Hall at the university. Doctor Reynolds, from Kingston University in Windsor, is talking about finding alternative treatments for mental illnesses. Of course, emelesia continues to be misdiagnosed as such, for political reasons, but if there was a d**g that could safely replace lobotomy as an option…” She shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe it could help the emelesiacs who never get the chance to use their abilities.”

She sighed. “One day, I’d love to study at Kingston University and earn my doctorate in biological chemistry. For now, I’ve taken up traditional medicine.” She smiled shyly. “Elementalism can solve a lot of problems, but it helps to understand the science of it all.”

“Of course,” said Voi, for such was the modern way, “but why not study now?” It seemed as good a time as any. There were no wars, for one, and women in Apexia and Windsor were being accepted more frequently into prestigious schools such as Kingston University—following the example of Borellia, who had long been more progressive than its western counterparts, as far as gender egalitarianism was concerned.

But Laura shook her head. “When the League asked me to work for them, I was assigned to nurse emelesiacs who were active in the field. There aren’t too many qualified doctors or nurses that can help adepts in the first place, due to the sensitive nature of our work. Sometimes, I think the League prefers it that way. Anyway, it’s an incredibly demanding job, though at the same time, it’s not something you can easily walk away from.” She huffed. “I just haven’t really had the chance to go back to school.”

“Laura, I had no idea…” Voi thought it admirably selfless of this young woman to devote herself to helping those who served Sector One—protecting an admittedly rather unsuspecting population from horrors Voi could only begin to imagine. If Milia’s brief demonstration was just a small indication of what foreign elementalists might be capable of, then she, for one, was glad for Sector One’s existence.

“I think the world could use more people like you, Laura. I mean what if there was an entire army of people like us out there, waiting to attack the League at any given moment? Who would defend us or protect those doing the defending?”

Laura’s eyes bulged. “Army? What makes you think there’s an army?”

Voi blushed, feeling foolish. “Well, maybe not an entire army, but a large enough force to be concerned about.” She walked across the room. “Why else would we need to verify whether Haran extremists are hiding?”

“It’s just a precaution, Voi. People like to say things that aren’t true, you know. Most pirating and raiding activity stopped after the Rapine War. Besides, not all pirates are members of the Haran. But it is strange, the way they disappeared so suddenly. Perhaps they realized they weren’t prepared enough to take on such a powerful adversary and that’s why they stopped attacking—choosing instead to regroup and rethink their strategy, or perhaps build an even larger force.” Laura gave a little shrug. “Those are my father’s thoughts, anyway.”

“Did your father serve in the war?” asked Voi.

Laura sighed. “Surely you’ve heard of the ‘Great’ General Wilson.” She rolled her eyes.

“The General Wilson?” The papers had spoken highly of the man’s leadership, how his strategies were largely responsible for the success of the League’s campaign to push Haran raiders out of the Borelli Jungle and back across the Great Sea. Not to mention he was the one who had discovered the Haran’s hiding ground in the first place: just off the coast of South Darmoil on the island of J’ju.

Laura nodded. “Daddy’s a skilled earth elementalist and a fine strategist, but he’s retired now.” She laughed. “He doesn’t really approve of me getting involved with Sector One agents, though that was my decision to make. Not his.” She stood straighter and held her head high, her ponytail bouncing in response to the resolute nod she gave.

Voi found it curious that both of their parents should be involved in the war as elementalists and said so.

“Well,” Laura explained, “most elementalists’ parents would have served in the war one way or another. Our abilities can be passed down at birth, and the potency of the parents’ abilities tends to be a good indicator of their children’s. Because of this, the League typically chooses their agents from the same genetic pools they’ve chosen from in the past, though they only deploy the most promising in the martial and intelligence fields.”

“One in twelve,” Voi unwittingly mused out loud.

“Yes,” said Laura. “That’s how many emelesiacs are chosen out of the population to join Sector One.”

“So, there’s a method to it, then.”

“Sure is! You’d probably be a little surprised by the lengths the League goes to ensure superior elemental and psychic talent. A bit of selective breeding—or eugenics, we call it—is involved. A lot of agents tend to form relationships within Sector One on their own, but sometimes, our government may offer matchmaking services or incentives to encourage certain relationships to develop between adepts.”

“Interesting.” Actually, Voi found this all rather disconcerting, though she did her best to at least appear interested—tilting her head with an enlightened, albeit wide-eyed expression on her face. And just who does all the selecting, I wonder? Non-emelesiacs? Politicians?

“But back to the Haran,” Laura went on. “There could be an entire army, as you say, of rogue elementalists, or maybe just a small handful of revolutionaries looking to stir up trouble; maybe there’s nothing to worry about at all! Regardless, it’s Sector One’s responsibility to discover and neutralize any threats that may be posed to citizens of the League. It’s always been our duty to protect the non-emelesiac population from substantial dangers and wayward adepts—ever since the War of Ages, and that was two millennia ago!”

A thoughtful expression crossed Laura’s face. “It’s curious, though, how little we truly know about the Haran. They’re not funded by the Darmoilen government, as Emperor Fyupei denies sanctioning their activity, and there’s no evidence that he ever has. Besides, it would go against the imperial agenda. Still, most members of the Haran are thought to be of South Darmoilen ethnicities. That is, Kesh and Maelt. Having recently obtained new intelligence on the likely whereabouts of one of their clandestine groups, I suppose that’s why we’ve hired you, Voi: to learn more facts about their situation and hopefully, even their structure—who’s in charge, what their long-term goals are… those kinds of things.”

Voi stared down at her shaking hands, wringing them together. Now that the full impact of the mission was evident to her, she felt incredibly inadequate. And scared. “You seem to know a lot about the Haran, Laura.”

“Well, I don’t really know any of these things from experience. I’ve never come face-to-face with an operative myself. These are just theories my father shared with me.”

“So Sector One believes there could be Haran operatives hiding nearby in Darmoil?”

“Possibly,” said Laura. “In the Fambrach Mountains, specifically. Agent Callahan was just explaining this to me while you were unconscious.”

Really, Voi thought crossly, arching an eyebrow.

Seeing the look on Voi’s face, Laura added, “He would have told you, but things were developing so quickly with your training. He didn’t want to overwhelm you with too much information while you were in a vulnerable state.”

“Of course not.” Voi briefly looked down at her hands. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, Laura, but how is it that a nurse is allowed to know about such sensitive information? I thought this was all confidential knowledge to intelligence agents.”

Laura winced. “They want me as a medic on standby for your mission, in case something goes wrong with your reconnaissance flight. That’s the only reason he’s told me anything about this.”

“Oh.” Guilt slowly nestled its way into Voi’s heart, and she sat there dumbly.

“You know,” said Laura, “Agent Callahan was pretty concerned about you. He even brought his typewriter here to work on a report for Sector One so he could keep an eye on you as I tended to other patients and errands in the city.”

Voi smoothed out the sheets on her bed while keeping a straight face, pretending to be unaffected by this news. After a while, however, she said lamely, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you were somehow less—”

“It’s alright.” Still, Laura started gathering her things abruptly. “I’ve dealt with many other elementalists just after their Initiations; higher levels of paranoia and suspicion are common behaviors when coming off your meds—for the first few weeks, at least.”

Voi humbly accepted the admonishment with lowered eyes.

“I won’t be back to check on you for another day or two,” said Laura. “I’ll ring you ahead of time.” She closed the door, leaving Voi to ponder her behavior.

What did it matter what Agent Callahan told the nurse? After all, Voi hardly knew the man.

* * *

By the time Voi reached the park, her spirits were high again. She sprung off her motorcycle then guided it across the grass, excited to meet her friend.

Secily was standing by the large oak tree they usually met at for practice, bow and arrow drawn and completely absorbed with the prospect of hitting a bull’s-eye. Voi had originally met the Kesh girl at a military banquet honoring fallen service men and women after the Rapine War. Secily’s family had immigrated to Apexia before the conflict about sixteen years ago; her father had served under the leadership of Voi’s own father’s.

Both men, as well as others from their unit, had been declared missing in action.

Voi stopped to wave an arm wildly over her head. “Hello!” She parked her motorcycle off to the side.

“Do you think it’ll storm?” Secily, wearing a bored, glum expression, eyed the grey clouds overhead. Her golden-brown skin had a radiant glow, despite the overcast sky, and her long black hair boasted a lustrous sheen that Voi secretly envied. Like any other day, Secily’s hair was tied into a ponytail for archery practice. Today, she wore a knit cardigan pulled over a neutral floral-print dress which hung limply from her thin frame, the hemline cutting off just above her stockinged calves; she’d taken off her coat and placed it on the grass, making it easier to shoot arrows.

Pondering her friend’s question, Voi looked to the sky just as one of their favorite airships, a Neverri vessel with a ruched exterior skin, droned overhead. A chilly breeze picked up and Voi closed her eyes, basking in her newfound aetheric awareness. The wind seemed to have a language of its own today, communicating in semi-threatening murmurs. Yet somehow Voi could tell it was only posturing. The gathering storm would pass right over the park, instinct told her.

Voi breathed in the scent of damp leaves that hung in the humid air. She opened her eyes then smiled. “I think we’ll get lucky this time.”

Secily looked Voi over—a bit skeptically, at first, for some reason—taking in her piloting garb then shaking her head with affectionate dismay. “Fehma, zela. When are you going to come shopping with me and Lila so we can find you a proper dress?”

“Thank you, Mother, but I have plenty of dresses, if you’ll recall.” Voi brought her archery gear to the oak tree. “They’re collecting dust in that trunk you gave me when I was just a girl, remember?”

Secily played along. “Oh yes, you mean the one filled with all those frilly hand-me-downs I gave you in hopes you’d grow up to become a dainty little movie star or singer someday?”

Voi snickered. “That’s right—the ones that are probably fifteen sizes too small for me now. Pity.” Bambi, Voi’s true mother, always had high hopes for Voi, which had been thoroughly squashed after the soon-to-be aviatrix decided to cut her formal education short in favor of becoming a barnstormer. Such careless and wild days, short-lived as they’d been, were well behind her now.