Chapter 29: Grieving the War to Come

Everyone’s energy has shifted over the past few days at sea. The most obvious change in demeanor comes from Guille. His usual calm visage is replaced by a wild and disheveled one. A permanent expression of concern has been fixed on his face since our meeting with the prince. He’s not sleeping, not eating, he even wanted to throw some of his trunks overboard if it would lighten the load and help us reach the island faster. Read and Camilla had to stop him before he could try it.

Today, he’s just been pacing up and down the ship nonstop. I can't say I blame him. His home is in danger and he’s stuck in the middle of the ocean, unable to help them. That feeling of powerlessness is a heavy weight on a person. You start to lose yourself, sucked into a void with no way out.

The rest of us throw ourselves into preparation. My training doubles in intensity with Rina and Kizzik both joining in as well. Camilla pushes us well past our limits with every exercise. It’s like she’s trying to break us. We engage in three and four way sparring sessions that last for hours. She tests me in the armor and out of it, forcing me to fight against the others without any protection.

“We don't know what we’ll come across during this deployment. You may need to enter combat without your suit. Don’t rely too heavily on it.” She tells me.

That’s all well and fine but the most hellish exercise she puts me through is swimming. The first time Camilla made me do it, she just threw me overboard and told me to ‘keep up’. I don't think I’ve ever moved so fast in my life, or been so terrified. It took me a good half hour but I made it back on the ship. They say exposure therapy can help with fears but my fear of the ocean has only intensified.

Aside from Camilla’s seemingly endless regiment, I’ve also been working independently on some new techniques. My goal is to use fabricate more efficiently to boost my natural fighting style. The spikes were a good start but I need something that’ll generate more power. On the seventh day, I finally start to figure it out. I ask Kizzik for his help in testing some moves and even they’re impressed with my progress. We only spar for a few minutes before they finally call it quits.

“I give, I give!” They shout, exhausted and breathing heavily. “If you weren’t holding back I’d probably be dead already!”

I pump my fist in the air. The suit is finally starting to make more sense to me. Before, I was using it without really thinking about optimization but now, I feel like there’s synergy between what I want and what it’s allowing me to do. Rina, Kizzik, Camilla, and I finish out the day with 1,000 push ups each, but I have to do it with a whole cannon on my back! It’s beyond brutal, each rep feels like my arms are going to snap. Still, I’m way stronger than I was when we first met, stronger still than my old body. It honestly amazes me, what I’ve been capable of in just a few short weeks.

At dawn on the eighth day, I’m awakened by shouting. Drearily, I shamble out of bed toward the sound of the commotion. Looks like it's coming from the Captain’s quarters. The door is shut but I can clearly make out Guille and Read’s voices as I approach.

“I understand your anger but I’m doing everything I can. We can’t drop any more supplies than we already have.” The captain says in a stern voice.

Guille yells something I don’t understand but I can tell it's full of expletives.

“Then drop the cannons! They have to be weighing us down! Don’t you understand every precious second counts?!”

“You want us to sail into an active warzone without any artillery?! Think about what you're saying!” Read yells back heatedly.

Both men start to really go at it, waking up the entire ship in the process. Without warning the door swings open and Guille comes barreling out, almost running me over like a man possessed.

Everyone else tries to give him a wide berth that morning but when breakfast rolls around and I don’t see him in the mess hall, I know I need to do something. With two bowls of gruel in hand, I head up to the starboard deck where Guille is pacing away. As soon as he sees me, he tries to wave me away but I continue forward. He slaps his hand against his forehead, sighing heavily.

“¡Déjame quieto! Leave me alone please. I’m not hungry.” Lord Guille starts to walk away from me but I follow after him.

“I know you’re not, but you need to eat something. Your people and your crew need you to be healthy when we arrive. The fighting might start right away and we can’t have you keeling over from starvation.”

He stops in his tracks, growling something under his breath. The man begrudgingly takes the bowl from me and starts to shovel the rice porridge into his mouth. As soon as the food hits his tongue, his whole expression changes.

“When I would get lost in my feelings, I’d sometimes stop taking care of myself and even though I wanted to do things for the people around me, I couldn't.” I say. “I remember being so worried about a birthday trip I’d planned for my girlfriend that I didn't eat anything for four whole days. I ended up passing out, getting really sick and we ended up missing out on the trip altogether as a result.”

Guille turns to me. His hard expression has melted away a bit revealing some of his pain underneath. The hurt in his eyes is so deep, it’s hard for me to even meet his gaze. “Your words are wise, but wise words are little comfort in my grief. Nothing you say will free me from this feeling.” He says.

I shake my head. “If you weren’t feeling this way, I’d worry that you weren’t human. What I’m trying to say is if it’s too hard to take care of yourself right now, let your friends take over for a bit.”

He stares at me with those fathomless dark pools of hurt. My heart aches for him, for his home, for his people. The man nods at me slowly, his body shudders as he lets out a breath.

“I never imagined I would live to see the day when Borikan fell. It’s more than I can bear, I fear.” His shoulders sag as if he were a puppet and someone just cut his strings. All the strength leaves him and he falls to the floor, weeping. I kneel down beside Guille, wrapping an arm around him.

As we sit there on the deck of the ship, I feel his anguish fuel a fire in me. It burns intensely at the thought of these monstrous creatures and their cruelty. They look down on us, play games with our lives like they’re nothing. Nobody deserves to have their home ripped from them, to lose their loved ones to senseless violence. The conviction to simply fight against the demons solidifies into something more. An ideal, an oath, a promise.

“Borikan survives in its people. In you. And it will continue to live on.

I make this promise to you now. We will save the survivors, we will take back your home, and we will kill every damned demon on that island.”