Chapter 1550 (1/2)

“Anything to report?” Jelick Youmun asked the guard he was relieving at the observation station. There was a ritualistic cant to the speech; it was the same phrase Jelick had said every day, as he came to relieve the other guard. It signaled the shift between them. The only moments they shared were these bordering edges of their twelve hours shifts, and they gradually came to hold special meaning. WIth them, the two guards were a perfect whole; despite the other dangers on this battlefield of the Fifth Cohort, these moments of oneness helped Jelick cope.

“Nothing,” the guard replied with similar relish. Both smiled at each other. This was the best part of their greetings, the confirmation of normalcy. Because neither denied that there was a horrible possibility waiting in the darkened eaves of this place: something might genuinely happen.

Yet that horror hadn’t yet arrived. For another day, the ritual continued uninterrupted.

The Nether had recently established enough Nether Nodes in the Fifth Cohort to activate a great working. What this portended, no one knew. Yet as one of the many guard outposts, they would theoretically be the first to know. It was a responsibility and a curse.

Jelick Youmun would never say it out loud, but sometimes he wished he could simply bury his head in the ground. If death came for him, he wished for it to be sudden and utter.

After a nod, the other guard hopped down and left the small tower. Jelick clambered up the stone edifice and planted himself in the observation chair. Displays in front of him showed movements in the nearby Nexus Ways, while there was also a wide glass window beyond the display to observe the surrounding space.

The observation tower was built on a high mountain top, giving Jelick a grand view of the surrounding peaks rising up over the wispy traces of clouds like triumphant spears. But as this planet barely possessed any sort of atmosphere, the sky was exceedingly clear. Jelick could look outward and upwards toward the wide and dangerous universe.

Somehow, the observation tower felt exposed. His ability to see also became a barely suppressed fear that some being was out there, scrutinizing Jelick in turn.

Stars hung bright and low overhead. If he squinted, it was also possible to make out the shape of other planets within the System. But Jelick set those aside for now. The more he looked, the more worked up he would become. Instead, he stuck to his tiny rituals. He took out his notebook and carefully transcribed what he saw on the displays in front of him. The displays would automatically record the results, but having the notations helped keep him focus.

Then Jelick settled back in his chair and began to count his heartbeats. His eyes steadily glazed over.

*****

Jieu Ronault’s emotions were chaotic. Part of it was a defense mechanism: the image of Randidly Ghosthound was simply that powerful. As he exposed himself more deeply to it, his own image struggled and twitched. The previously quiet sound of the Stillborn Phoenix sucking away the surrounding air and emotions became a howling gale.

The two of them were sitting inside the Ghosthound’s personal training chamber. Jieu’s flames were chaotic as he was exposed to the image of the Stillborn Phoenix directly. For someone who prided himself on his self-control, this filled Jieu with a deep sense of shame. But there was something… overwhelming about the ambient craving that the Head Drill Sergeant could release from his image.

The self-assured strength of that desire began to completely smother Jieu, strangling his flames. He looked deeper and deeper into that abyss and began to see something stirring amongst the cataclysmic natural forces. The sheer size and weight of the matter that had gone into the image was completely ludicrous. Just feeling its massive gravity filled him with a sense of awe and dread.

The flame elemental felt an inexplicable shiver run through his body. Staring into the howling maw of nothing, his mind somehow found the spare moments to wander.

Jieu Ronault was a being that truly did not understand his origins. His ‘ancestor’ had discovered him existing on a tumbling hunk of interstellar metal, a placid flame the size of a palm with eye-catching color. His ancestor had allowed his curiosity to convince him to bring that flame back to his abode, where he had been shocked to discover that steady flame possessed a meager consciousness.

Jieu Ronault had no true homeworld. He had never experienced the horror of the System’s arrival and the Calamities either, not even passed down through culture. He was a being adrift, unmoored and confused.

Somehow the dark oblivion of the Head Drill Sergeant’s image seemed to sense that directionlessness. The shadow of a bloodthirsty bird of prey seemed to be piercing Jieu with its eyes. And as it carefully examined his past, the resentment that the image felt for him steadily grew.

Forty years of training after being discovered, that ancestor had released a now fully self-sufficient Jieu Ronault into the Nexus, earning him a position within the elite squadron of the force that would retake the Fifth Cohort from the Nether Invasion. This was an opportunity for the flame elemental, who would have preferred to remain secluded for the rest of his existence, his ancestor insisted. An opportunity to discover a truth about himself. His ancestor assured Jieu that, should he accumulate sufficient strength, the truth of his existence would come to him naturally.