Callie's Heroes

PART II - AFTER ACTION REPORT

Druid Trainer Rowani looked down at Tazrok’s handiwork. The bleeding was stopped, the muscles and skin repaired, and there was in fact very little likelihood that the wound would leave a scar, or if it did, a very faint one. All in all, it was a very good first casting, especially for such a significant wound.

“Good work, Ogre,” she said loud enough for everyone to hear. “You will need to learn to not cause more pain while healing, but your work is above average. You must also develop your confidence so you react faster. I give you seven of ten on this attempt. Little Pixie, how do you feel?”

“I’m okay,” Pixyl croaked quietly, suddenly nervous being the center of attention. She turned, looked at the decapitated body of the Fiend beginning to hiss and melt back into the Nether, and said “I’m j-j-just glad no one else got hurt.”

“Are you able to stand?” Rowani asked.

“I th-th-think so,” Pixyl said, dropping Callie’s hand and struggling to rise. Tazrok extended a single finger, and the Pixie grabbed it, allowing him to lift her to her feet. She groaned as her wing pain hit her again, but she winced hard and fought to force it to the side. A few more light applause went through the crowd.

“Is everything under control, Trainer Rowani?” Thorn asked.

Rowani turned from the Pixie. “Yes, I believe so. Now, can someone tell me what the hell happened?”

“Yes.” Thorn said with a scowl. “Who is able to tell us all what happened?”

There was a cold silence.

“Recruit Vanis, you seemed to be part of this skirmish. Please tell us all what occurred.”

Without missing a beat, Vanis straightened to regal attention and took a step forward, as if trying to set an example. There was no Command Aura, this was all Vanis. “Yes, sir,” he began. “From across the field I observed another recruit attempting a Demonic summoning without the proper preparation. As I ran towards the recruit, I made several efforts to warn the recruit to cease casting, but was not successful. Seeing no officers or staff were present, as soon as the Demon materialized, I captured it in a Nether Hold spell, with the hope I could hold it until the others escaped, or proper help arrived. Regrettably, I was unable to maintain the channeling as long as I wished, in part because I was not able to get a Ritual Circle created in time to tap into. When my spell failed, Recruit Pixyl engaged the Demon before it could set upon its summoner or someone else.”

“I see. And why did you choose that spell?” Thorn asked, looking out at the throng of recruits, not at Vanis. This conversation was for the benefit of all the students.

“Sir, I judged it the least likely to cause harm to anyone,” Vanis said, his bearing perfect. “Prior to arriving yesterday, I did know Deathbolt. But if I was to use that spell, and my aim was off, or if someone was too close to the target, it would have dire consequences. I recalled my list of new skills and picked one I hoped would suffice with the least risk to bystanders.”

“Excellent logic, Recruit Vanis,” Thorn said, continuing to turn and face the circle of recruits. “Next time, consider the spell Banish. It only works on Demons, but would have returned the Fiend to the Nether and not required channeling. Still, you made a solid choice of attack.”

“Thank you for the advice, sir,” Vanis said with a sharp nod, before taking a step backwards.

Master Trainer Thorn swiveled his head and sighed. “Look, I’m tired of spinning in circles. Everyone gather up; short people in front.” He motioned towards half the circle to usher the thirty or so recruits into a single large group. “You two stay here,” he added, indicating Pixyl and Tazrok. “Recruit Calliope, join the rest if you would. Recruit Vanis, would you also join me here.”

Reluctantly, Callie left Pixyl’s side and walked to the gathering gaggle, passing Vanis on the way. She took a spot in the front between a Fairy and a Dwarf, two down from a very pale and nervous Dunilawal. Her hands were covered in Pixyl’s blood, as was her clothing, Even her hat had a bloody handprint on it where she must have grabbed the rim to make an adjustment.

“Recruit Dunilawal!” Thorn snapped, blasting out a Command Pulse and causing the Fairy to jump. The rest of the recruits quickly took notice and fell into some vague form of attention.

“Y-y-yes, Sir?” the Fairy squeaked in return.

“I know Recruit Vanis did not do the summoning and do not see your other fellow Warlock recruit here. Would you kindly explain to me why there is a rotting Fiend on my training grounds?” Thorn asked in mock politeness.

“Uh …” Dunni looked over at the corpse of the Fiend, which was actively beginning to disintegrate into purple mist. He started to respond, before his voice faded to a whisper.

Thorn looked the recruit in the eye. “Well? We’re waiting. Please explain to me and your fellow recruits why there is a Fiend on my training grounds.”

All eyes were focused on the young Warlock. “I summoned it?” he finally answered with a questioning inflection.

“Oh? You did?” Thorn asked sarcastically. “That’s good, at least. I was worried we had a true Demonic incursion on our hands. That would have been really bad, because none of the recruits have any training in their new skills. In fact, even one rampaging Demon could have killed several untrained recruits. Did you know that?”

Dunni swallowed hard.

“Has your trainer instructed you on how to properly perform a Demonic summoning, Recruit Dunilawal?”

“N-n-no, Sir,” Dunni choked out.

“He didn’t? Let’s just make sure,” Thorn said. He narrowed his eyes and fixed them on the now-petrified Fairy, calling out, “Trainer Terrin, by any chance, have you instructed this recruit in the proper technique for summoning Demons?” He didn’t even have to look to know the Warlock trainer was behind him.

“I have not,” growled the aging Warlock trainer, who had indeed just arrived, along with Major Celeste. “In fact, I’m fairly sure I mentioned something about not doing any summoning without myself being present. Now, I’m old, so I could be mistaken. Would you check for me?”

“Of course, Trainer Terrin,” Thorn said, his eyes still staring at Dunni. “Recruit Dunilawal, would you help refresh the Trainer’s memory? Did he in fact instruct you not to attempt any summoning without him being present? This is important, because if his mind is slipping we must know.”

There was a smattering of chuckles amongst the recruit formation. Thorn ignored them, never removing his eyes from the young Warlock.

Dunni seemed to stiffen of his own accord, perhaps realizing he wasn't getting out of this, or maybe just finding a thimbleful of courage to take responsibility for his actions. “He did say that, Sir.”

“Good news, Terrin. Your job is safe,” Thorn said over his shoulder.

“Well, damn!” Terrin replied. “So much for my retirement.”

Again, there was a ripple of laughter through the ranks.

“Recruit Dunilawal,” Thorn began with an increasingly angry glint in his eyes, any levity among the recruits quickly vanishing. “Another question, and this is an important one. Why did you decide to summon a Fiend, when in fact you had been instructed not to do so unless Trainer Terrin was present?”

Dunni fidgeted trying to find the words that might not state the obvious. Finally, he settled on “I was dared to, Sir.”

“Oh! That makes sense, now,” Thorn said, throwing his hands up in mock understanding. “There’s nothing like winning a good dare to make it right. Of course, you knew you were going to die because you didn’t lay down a Ritual Circle to contain the Demon, and maybe a few of your fellow recruits would probably die too, but at least you would win the dare. Just so you know, if you are suicidal, we can kill you now and at least get your worm back. You aren’t suicidal, are you?”

“No, Sir, I am not suicidal.”

“You’re not? But, you did know that without a Ritual Circle, the Demon would get loose and kill you, correct?” Thorn asked, cocking his rat-like head.

The Warlock shook his head, “I did not know that, Sir.”

“Ah. I see, I see. So you did something you were specifically told not to do, having no idea at all how dangerous it was, but you say you aren’t suicidal. Trainer Terrin, tell me, what would that make Recruit Dunilawal?”

“A fucking idiot,” Terrin sneered, his arms crossed. There was a roll of laughter from the recruits that quickly evaporated under a sharp look from Thorn.

“Of course!” Thorn said, continuing to mock. “A fucking idiot. Tell me young Master Idiot, why are you still alive after doing something so monumentally stupid?”

Dunni looked at Vanis, who was wearing a cross, judgmental expression focused right on him.

“Prince Vanis saved me.”

“Recruit Vanis saved you. I see. Did he have any help?” Thorn asked.

“He did,” Dunni said. “The Pixie helped.”

“That teeny tiny little Pixie over there?” Thorn pointed towards Pixyl. “The one with the broken wing? The one covered in her own blood? The one that almost died right before your very eyes? She saved you?”

“She did, Sir.”

Thorn bent down and picked something up. “Good for you she wasn’t a coward. I mean, she attacked a Demon knowing her swords didn’t work. Bladeweavers wear Ethereal suppression bracelets that make their blades harmless.” He showed everyone the torn, blood-covered suppression band, holding it high. “That way, they don’t accidentally cut your arm off while sparring. Did you know that, Recruit Dunilawal?”

“No, I did not.”

Thone nodded mockingly. “Yes, you can tell when the bands are active as their Ethereal powers will be green. Thankfully, this recruit got lucky, and her mistake allowed the Demon to cut one of those bracelets, enabling her sword’s power.”

Pixyl screwed up her face in surprise and a little anger. “N-n-no!”

“What’s that, Recruit Pixylataweneecina?” Thorn said, turning to face the PIxie. His pronunciation of her name was spot on.

“It w-w-was… It w-w-was…” Pixyl furrowed her brow seeing all eyes turn to her, and growled loudly in tongue-tied frustration.

Someone in the crowd snickered at Pixyl, before Thorn snapped a glare, “Silence, Recruit.” He then turned back to Pixyl, adding in a more-gentle tone, “Take your time. What did you need to say?”

Pixyl swallowed hard. All these eyes on her and she was covered in blood and berry juice and completely unable to speak. She felt like a useless mess. But Thorn had asked, and she was going to answer. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “N-n-not a mistake.”

“That’s right,” Thorn said, turning back to face the crowd, still holding the bloody suppression band. “It wasn’t a mistake.” He had already known Pixyl did it on purpose. “This tiny Pixie charged a Demon with swords that she knew wouldn’t cut anything. She allowed herself to be grievously injured to get those swords to work properly. She risked her life with never a thought for her own safety, and she did it to save all of you. If not for her courage, it’s very likely some of you would be dead. If not for a Healer,” he gestured to Tazrok, “she would be dead.”

A tiny murmur rolled through the recruits as they again took in the blood and fruit-goo covered mess that was Pixyl. She shrunk from all the eyes, folding her wings down to try to appear even smaller than she already was. In her head, Pixyl debated whether she should tell the officer she had, in fact, completely forgotten she was wearing the bracelets, but quickly decided against the idea.

There was an oppressive stillness in the air. Thorn could tell the attention was giving the Pixie anxiety, but the recruits needed to hear this and see her. “Dead,” he said once again, flatly, dropping the bloody leather band to the ground, the leather landing in a tangled heap.

The crowd of recruits stood nervously unmoving as Thorn’s statements rattled through their heads. There was no Command Aura needed any more, there hadn’t been for a while, just cold hard facts.

“That tiny Pixie is the bravest person on this field,” Thorn hissed out pointing his blood-stained hand sharply at Pixyl. “Don’t any of you ever forget that!”

Thorn spun in a barely controlled fury, his hairless tail flying through the air fast enough for a whip-like crack to wash over everyone present. “Major! If anyone needs to clean up, see that it happens. Everyone is confined to quarters until we muster for your punishment detail. Trainer Terrin, see to your idiot recruit.”

“Yes, Master Trainer,” Celeste snapped.

Thorn stomped off down the hill, the anger roiling around him like a storm cloud. Anyone that was even remotely in his way seemed to scatter.

“You heard him!” the Major called out. All of you are confined to quarters until the muster bell sounds. Move! Now!” She pointed at Callie, adding, “You! With these other three.”

Callie quickly scampered over to stand next to Pixyl. The anger in Celeste’s voice was obvious as she stared after the crowd moving quickly back to their bunkhouses. Terrin had pulled Dunni out of the crowd by his ear and was stiffly marching off with him, the trainer’s anger rivaled only by Thorn’s.

As the last of the dismissed recruits disappeared down the hill, Major Celeste turned to look at the four remaining, along with Trainers Olin and Rowani. Her face softened as she looked down at Callie and Pixyl, both covered in varying amounts of drying blood and sticky berry juice. “Of course it’s you two. Why am I not surprised? How many times in one day are you two going to be a pain in my arse?”

”Let me start with this,” Celeste said as she eyed the four recruits. “You are all unhurt, right? Nobody has any injuries remaining?”

Everyone looked at each other, before mutually shaking their heads.

“Good. Now I’m going to kill all of you! What the hell were you thinking?”

Vanis cleared his throat and started to respond, but Celeste cut him off. “Shut up! That was a rhetorical question! I heard what Thorn said, but it was still a stupid, foolish thing to do, especially you, Pixyl. You could have been killed! You should have been killed considering you had your bands on.”

Pixyl glared at Celeste, actually feeling anger. She did what she had to do because she could, and she could kill a half-dozen Bronze Tier Fiends without even breaking a sweat, even Silver in single combat. Well, she could if her swords were actually working. A fight with a single Iron Tier Fiend should have been over before it even started.

“And you, what were you thinking?” Celeste snapped at Trainer Olin. Confused, he pointed to himself. “Yeah, you! You were right there! How could you put her in danger like that?”

“Major, Recruit Pixyl had that fight well in control, and I assure you, I was ready to end it the moment it was needed. She didn’t even get hit until the strike that severed her suppression bands, and that was purposeful.”

“Really? Not even a scratch?” the Major said, taken aback and looking at the blood-soaked Pixie.

Pixyl shook her head and shrugged. “Not until th-th-the end.”

“The right call was made, Major,” Trainer Rowani said curtly. “We do not often get a chance for live, uncontrolled combat, so we must take advantage of every opportunity. Like Olin, I was prepared to step in if needed.”

“For Star’s sake, it’s not even day one!” Celeste cried out, flapping her arms in exasperation. “Do you really think tossing our smallest recruit into a live battle with an uncontrolled Demon is a good way to start her training?” She gestured towards Rowani. Do you really think forcing an Ogre, who's having an identity crisis mind you, to heal for the first time under such pressure is a good way to start his training?”

Olin and Rowani looked at each other, shrugged, and in unison replied, “Yes.”

“You’re reckless, all six of you!” the Major growled, gesturing at all four recruits and the two trainers. “But, unofficially, I will say good job. I only wish I had been here to see you fight, Pixyl, quite honestly.”

“Oh, It was truly a sight to behold, Major,” Olin said almost proudly, “My only question is of you, Pixyl. Where did you learn to fight like that? I assume you three know how to unlock your powers, right? But you’ve had experience, too.”

Pixyl just shrugged. “Just w-w-watching other p-p-people.”

Olin boggled, wide-eyed. “Truly? I guess that does explain your technique.”

“What’s wrong with her technique? She got the job done, didn’t she?” Callie snapped.

Olin was stunned by the Gnome’s sharp tongue and snapped back. “It was sloppy, Little One. Effective, but inefficient, and anyone with any decent sword skill would exploit that sloppiness. This is common for someone with no formal training, that’s all. Surely you saw where she made multiple mistakes; you have the same dual-wielding perk as a Ranger, do you not? I heard about your sparring match with Vonn, so you know full well that swordplay is not just about getting the job done. You have to be controlled, as well, to protect yourself and to protect your allies around you. On the battlefield, Pixyl’s sloppy technique looks amazing to onlookers, but might have struck a friendly combatant, or left open an obvious counter.”

Callie was about to go off on Olin for that whole comment, but bit back her words. As she thought back to Pixyl’s fight with the Fiend and replayed what she saw of it in her head, she could see what the Bladeweaver trainer was saying, just as she was able to see the mistakes in her own fight with Vonn. Pixyl’s swings were wild. Olin was right, they absolutely looked spectacular, but the style was incredibly sloppy. Of course, if her swords had been working, it really wouldn’t have mattered. They would slice through most anything in a single swing, and the fight wouldn’t have lasted long enough for style to even matter.

“He’s right,” Pixyl said. “Now that I have my p-p-perks, I can see and feel w-w-what I did wrong. It will be hard to break old habits.”

“Yeah, I guess I see it too, now that I think about it. Still, she saved everyone,” Callie said with a sigh. “And Tazrok saved her.”

“Am part Healer,” Tazrok said, shrugging. “I now heal. Brain sluggo told me how.”

“Yes, your healing was satisfactory,” Rowani said. “My hope is you fully accept you are a Druid quickly, so you may learn your forms without delay. You made a noble first step today.”

Tazrok nodded. “Still want to be …”

“You cannot be a Wolficorn,” Rowani said with a chuckle. “Sorry. But, I am sure whatever you end up being will be appropriate.”

“Alright,” Celeste said, retaking control of the conversation. “I want the four of you to go get cleaned up. Vanis, since you aren’t a bloody mess, and are just sweaty, please carry fresh clothes for the others and then all of you get to the showers. When you’re done, just stay in your cabin and maybe try to stay out of trouble for the rest of the day. And for Star’s sake please do not tell anyone how to unlock things!”

Callie was about to make a snarky comment in retort, but bit it back after a preemptive glare from Vanis.

“Trainer Olin, if you would get a new suppression band to Pixyl, it would be appreciated. I think her reveals are all completed, but let’s not take chances.”

“Of course, Major. I will see a new one sent to her house right away.”

“Thanks, Olin.” Celeste turned to address the gore-covered Pixie. “Pixyl, for your heroic actions in saving me from dealing with the headache of multiple dead recruits, I’m officially commuting your two-day house arrest to a stern warning. But my order still stands. No fighting! Got it?”

Pixyl nodded quickly.

“What is ‘commuting’?” Tazrok asked, a confused look on his face.

“Changing the sentence she received for kicking the Dwarf into a lesser one,” Vanis said.

“Because she killed melted monster?”

All eyes turned to the remains of the Fiend, which was by now little more than a small pile of gelatinous goo throwing off a cloud of purple smoke. Soon it would all be gone, returned to the Nether from where the Demon had been summoned.

“Yes, that’s right,” Vanis said. “She did a good thing, so is being rewarded by not having to serve house arrest.”

“Alright, enough,” Major Celeste said sharply. “The four of you, go. Get cleaned up. Tazrok, I’ll retrieve you early so we can prepare for your punishment assembly. I checked and everything is in order, just as you requested.”

The big Ogre smiled, a tiny glint of something … maybe slyness … in his eyes. “Good.”