The Wild Beasts of Anthony Mannis

A visionary is a person able to invoke beyond the statistically normal age range. Though practically unheard of in technologically advanced societies, visionaries seem to be more frequent in lesser developed civilizations, such as the Tzolkhan. There are yet to be empirical studies conducted.

- Information Available to Borges Citizens, Pamphlet IV

They padded quietly along the dirt path that led away from Oaktown. Despite the grandeur of the city, with its ivory towers and beautiful buildings, the road outside was positively medieval.

“You’d think that the capital city of Forest Zone would take care of what was right outside its walls,” Anthony grumbled after he stubbed his toe on the tip of a rock for the umpteenth time.

“For the entirety of the Borges dictatorship they haven’t needed paved roads,” Philip recited, as if he was delivering a book report. “Battlewagons are all-terrain vehicles, sweepers and skydrones fly, and the Borges won’t pay for the maintenance of something commoners would use.”

“Forget this place,” Hayley scowled, “I’m so sick of Forest Zone and its political drama. I’m ready for the sea.”

“Me too.” Anthony agreed. A sadness came upon him.

“Why did Darius do that to us?” he asked Philip, “I thought we were his friends.”

“I have been wondering that myself. My only guess is that he has been thrust into a position for which he is not entirely prepared.”

“Perhaps I may provide some enlightenment,” Ikoa interrupted politely. The other three turned in surprise. It was the first time he had spoken since they left their dormitory.

“I overheard Darius speaking of Free Crossing. The Borges are running a blockade outside the city. OZM are trapped inside and supplies are dwindling. Darius mentioned something a ‘siege-buster’ that they would need. I suppose he meant you,” he nodded at Anthony.

The boy invoker thought for a moment. “He should have just asked.”

“He is a captain. He does not ask. He orders.”

“Well, we aren’t soldiers,” Hayley injected.

Ikoa raised his hands apologetically. “I hear you, little sister. It is not me with whom you should be angry.”

“If his plan was to use colossus to break the blockade, what is he going to do without Anthony?” Philip wondered.

“I am not sure. I imagine he will try to recruit other invokers or hope you come back. It is fortunate he let you leave without too much of an incident,” Ikoa said to Anthony, “he is not without honor.”

A derisive snort from the young boy. “As if he could stop me.”

“He did try to ransom Ma.” Philip pointed out.

They walked in silence for a minute. A bird chirped mournfully.

“We do need to catch The Line out of Free Crossing,” Hayley said. “It’s the safest and quickest way to New Haven.”

“Can’t we walk there? Why do we need to take a train?” Anthony asked.

“Walk Genki’s Trust? Through the mountains?” Hayley scoffed, as if the answer should have been obvious. “It would take weeks to get to New Haven—if we don’t get caught by the thralls. The Line out of Free Crossing would take a day, at most.”

“We are going to get caught if we try to go through Free Crossing,” Philip argued. “Has everyone forgotten already that there is a blockade?”

“I fear no amount of men,” Ikoa grinned directly at Philip.

“You would be wise to,” the boy retorted, “Those who live by the sword may get shot by those who don’t.”

Ikoa flexed his scarred forearms. “You read that in a book.”

“Relax, you two,” Hayley cooed.

Anthony summoned a little chicken-like crony and watched it scuttle around the road in front of them, scattering gold light everywhere. “So we need to get to Free Crossing, but the Borges are in the way,” he thought aloud, “Darius needs more soldiers and tries to draft us by blackmailing me.”

They trudged along, racking their brains for a plan.

“We need his help,” Philip finally ventured, “more bodies on the field.”

“I was just thinking that same thing,” Hayley sighed, “Damnit.”

Deep in thought, Anthony absent-mindedly smacked his lips. “When did Darius plan to make a move on Free Crossing?” he asked Ikoa.

“He said today. Though I do not know his plans now that you are uninvolved.”

Anthony thought aloud. “I want to see my Ma. If Darius can help me get to Ma, I’ll help him.”

“What about your brother, Abad—I mean, Munroe?” Hayley said.

“We’re going to Ocean Zone for my mother first.” Anthony waved his hand, and the chicken-crony disappeared with a soft pop. He turned back to his companions with a serious face. “Ikoa, ol’ buddy, can you go to Darius and tell him I’ll be his siege buster? We’ll wait for him.”

The giant warrior smiled and broke out into a hearty chuckle. He saluted Anthony in mock solemnity and turned back towards Oaktown. Hayley tapped her quarterstaff on her forehead, grinned, and followed Anthony down the trail towards Free Crossing. Philip sighed, shifted his bag, and went after them. “So you don’t mind eating your words after all that drama we had last night?” he said.

“Philip, buddy, let me tell you something. The world would be a better place if people owned up to their mistakes…”

#

Raffick stood at attention outside Warden Tan’s office, awaiting his performance review. In his mind he knew he should be nervous, but he was in control enough to bash that feeling deep down inside. Being nervous now would be redundant, he said to himself. He did have some precious information for Warden Tan, just in case things threatened to go poorly. The light in the pasty lobby flickered.

The door creaked open, and Marceau stuck his red-and-white face out.

“Tan will see you now,” he said blithely, in a way that made Raffick want to punch in his powdered nose. He shouldered past instead. Having his back to Marceau made Raffick nervous; he could never get a good read of his emotions. He shot a teenage girl without blinking, not to mention what he did to Mint Village…

“Ah, Raffick, come sit.” Warden Tan said warmly. Too warmly. Tan beckoned to the seat in front of her desk. She was wearing the same white and gold uniform, her hair done up in a tight bun.

Raffick sat. Behind him, he heard Marceau close the door quietly. There was an unnaturally long pause. Warden Tan put her elbows on her desk and pressed her fingers together, staring directly at Raffick and smiling thinly with her mouth.

“Tell me, Raffick.”

She let her hands drop a little.

“You let the boy go once. That is forgivable. You come to me, and I give you the requested manpower to capture the boy again. You fail again. I am kind, I offer you another chance. But again you fail. What would you have me do, Raffick?”

Raffick said nothing. He was waiting for the right opportunity to play his hand.

“You call into question your leadership and general capabilities of judgment. You would have me look a fool in front of the Trichor. What an ordeal it was to explain to them why the Nosferat needed reprocessing. You are being reassigned.”

Now is the time. “Ma’am. I believe I have some information that may alleviate the discomforts caused by my actions.”

“Do you now?”

“Ma’am. I believe the boy, Anthony, is brother to Abaddon, the prodigy we obtained in Mint Village. There were two reported invokers there. Anthony shows all the undeveloped capabilities of Abaddon; I encountered him outside of Mint Village the day after the raid, and yesterday they called each other by true name on the battlefield, even discussing their mother.”

Warden Tan sighed. “And?”

“And…” Raffick faltered. How is this not surprising her? I was sure it would have swayed her at least. “…and they are brothers,” he ended weakly.

Warden Tan sniffed, unimpressed. “Punctuality is key to this game, officer. Marceau has already told me all of this. Perhaps you forgot he was there as well?”

Of course The Fool had been there. Razing the farmland. Everywhere he goes he causes needless destruction.

“Regardless,” Warden Tan continued, “that information changes nothing. What does it matter, their relations? Power is power, and an invoker is an invoker. Blood has little to do with it.”

She touched her temple with two fingers, as if she was under stress.

“You are of course aware that the OZM have retaken Oaktown.”

“Yes,” he flushed. Obviously. They assaulted me in my moment of triumph.

“They have Free Crossing as well. General Collier’s Reclamation Force has been sieging it for weeks.”

“Is there a siege on Oaktown as well?”

“The rebels can have that pig farm. Free Crossing is of more strategic importance.”

She brushed her fingers along the stock of her displayed sniper rifle. “That is why you are forthwith assigned to Head of Management Affairs at the Free Crossing blockade, expected to report tomorrow at 0800 to General Collier.”

Raffick sat up, sputtering. “You can’t be serious. The Boy Invoker is in Oaktown right now and is most likely heading towards Ocean Zone. If he decides not to walk Genki’s Trust, he will then take The Line out of Free Crossing to get to New Haven.”

He leaned on the front of the desk, clenching his fists. “He could clear the siege line single-handedly. Then Free Crossing will send out a van and the blockade will fall. Asking me to be there will set me up for failure.”

It hit him like a bag of bricks. They knew. They knew all along! Raffick’s mind raced, he could hardly breathe. He felt dizzy, uncharacteristic nervousness creeping into his stomach.

“You’ve set me up for multiple failures—you’ve known his power levels all the while—and yet each time sent me in undermanned.”

Warden Tan smiled again, emptily as before. “I don’t know what you mean. You were adequately manned for when he was outside Lagulina. And again at Oaktown.”

“He was Timesunk!”

“How could I have known that?” she said in a voice that indicated that she did.

“I’ve been nothing but a model soldier. What have I done to deserve this?”

“Model soldier?” she snapped, “You let the brat fall into the hands of the OZM, the one thing we needed least of all.

“Besides, someone up there,” she pointed metaphorically at the ceiling, “is mad at you.”

Raffick remembered something, and turned to look at The Jester. “My sidearm went missing during yesterday’s battle.”

Marceau shrugged and rubbed his fingers together. Warden Tan reached into her desk and pulled out the revolver, placing it heavily between them. “Don’t lose it this time.”

“You do know,” Raffick snarled, “it is poor leadership to sabotage the performance of your inferiors.”

“Watch your tone. I’ll have you for insubordination.”

Raffick stared at the gun, its polished silver gleaming in the harsh artificial light of the office. He wondered if he could grab it and shoot Tan before Marceau put a knife in his back.

If she really wanted to hurt me, she would mention my old partner.

The slight woman across from him was smiling with her lips only, waiting to see what he would do. Raffick snatched the revolver off the desk and slammed it into his holster. Fuming, he stood up and went towards the door without being dismissed.

“Out of the way, clown,” he growled to The Jester.

Marceau laughed, a hyena.