Synergia: Ianoren's Jounal Chapter 1

I scanned over the community garden of a small southern village in Synergia, it was quiet with the few people quickly moving about. Only four figures, staring at me and each other, and myself were still. The five of us huddled up in a circle, each of us silent as the rest of the town. The silence was nerve wracking, it felt like an eternity. Until one women of the circle finally broke the silence.

“I’m glad to see everyone excited for the mission”, she sarcastically replied to the dull faces of the rest of the circle. She had dark brown hair pulled and tied back into a tail, which rested on her right shoulder. To seemingly complement the color of her hair, her skin was tanned from hours of training and farming under the sun. The work also gave her toned muscles that matched her build. She had bright brown eyes, which were a window that showed the anticipation and excitement her face hid well.

After seconds of no response she continued, “I guess I’ll start by introducing myself. I am Krisiana Swordhand, ironically, a commoner trained in swordsmanship. I will be leading this expedition for I am experienced in the terrain of the lands of Spirituality. I promise you all my undying support to Synergia and to this group. So... man in the robes introduce yourself.”

The man in the robes had eyes that were an interesting shade of hazel, deep with thought, though his face was expressionless. His clean white robes fell over his thin shoulders, though he had a small build; he was quite tall. His strawberry blonde hair was cut short and neatly trim.

He finally replied to the blunt description of himself, saying, “My name is Davlamin Carter. I am a Spirit, but even so you have no reason to suspect me of betrayal, nor doubt me of staying true to Synergia and this group. If you have nay questions on Spirituality, then hold your tongue, I am Synergian since birth. I will tell you about the powers of a Spirit, though, we can control our spirits through the use of willpower”- a glimpse of a ghostly form that looked very much like Davlamin appeared and dissipated quickly- “see.”

This action brought out surprise by most, including myself. Most of all the third member of the group showed more than simple surprise, she showed horror. She was an enormous woman, only apparent because of the her womanly features to her face and chest. She had a gigantic build and her shoulders wider than any common man or woman I have ever saw. She had shallow blue eyes and bright blonde hair. Her muscles were enormous and bulged from her skin, a property that as a woman, only a Physique could have.

After the initial shock and horror wore off, she introduced herself, “My name is Alliuvia Strongarm and I promise my loyalty.”

Finally the last of the four answered, “My name is Markus Spelloyal, and I will stay true to Synergia and this group as long as my calculations stay true. As you may have already assumed I am a Mentee and I would show off my powers like a fool”- he glanced harshly at Davlamin-“but it would kill you.”

Markus was a man of a normal build and brown eyes that showed intelligence attributed to his race. His eyes also looked down upon all people, not of his race, another trait among the Mentees. Ironically he was the shortest of the five of us, even the two girls were clearly taller. His one handsome trait was his jet black hair that shimmered in the afternoon sunlight.

The silence began again, for I hesitated on my response. They all stared at me in confusion for I was the fifth wheel that does not belong. Most groups that do missions are in intervals of four, but I had asked the congressional council for the right to record history more directly. Finally ignoring the nervous feeling in my stomach and swallowing the knot in my throat, I said in a calm, even voice, “My name is Ianoren Urthador, a historian come to tag along you four and to record the war more directly.” Only glares filled with disapproval showed on their faces. So I continued, “I promise to stay out of the way as much as possible and to keep up with you. All grunt work needed to be done, I can handle. I swear my undying loyalty to this group and Synergia.” I could not read any of their faces, only adding to my fear of being rejected.... again.

Krisiana was first to respond saying, “I am all right with you coming, but you’ll hafta take some sword lessons from me along the way.”

Alliuvia replied harshly, “If you can keep the pace, you may stay.”

Davlamin simply nodded to give his acceptance.

Lastly Markus answered with a cruel smile that seemed to reek with disapproval, but on the contrary, he said, “I respect your work and what you are doing. You may stay in this group as long as you teach me some history each day.” His voice had a yearn for knowledge in it.

With a mile, that was true to the very heart, I gladly replied, “I accept all conditions, but I ask a small favor. Will you take my journal back to Elpis if anything should befall me?”

The question was a sharp reminder to all of us that the mission we are going on is extremely dangerous and possibly, no probably, deadly.

Many moments that felt much longer, each of us reflecting on our life and the choices that had brought us here, passed with utter silence. At last, Krisiana broke the silence with a cracking and unsure voice. She said, “ So... uh, the details of the mission. We are following main roads south to Spirituality until we get near the border. After we get here”- she pointed at the southern part of Synergia- “we will take an old, unused phica trail. Then we will travel through the grasslands, shrub lands and near their capital city in the desert. It will take about twelve days to get there. Any questions?” She kept a stern mask shielding any emotion, persuasion, throughout her description of the mission.

At first no one thought up any questions to such blunt and simple directions, then Markus, Davlamin and I all asked at once, “How will we get the motivation of why Spirituality is at war?” Though to Krisiana, who had a confused look on, it sounded like gibberish and she could not decipher it.

After a short pause, Markus repeated the question, “ As I said, how will we get the motivation of Spirituality is at war?” He had an irritated look on his face, though it seemed he did not know where to point the direction of his anger.

Krisiana told us, “We’ll know when we get there.” All the others kept a calm face, but it was a completely foolish plan. I was considering to tell Krisiana my thoughts, but I told them I would not hold them back; and I will keep my promise.

The following day started very early with an awakening before the sun had risen, probably some time in late dusk. When I was fully set up and awoken, I noticed the rest of the group waiting for me at the edge of town. The sun rose from the east just as we began the walk. The five of us silhouetted by the sun, each carrying a pack of rations for twenty days. Krisiana carried a large two-handed sword on her back, while I carried a short, slender rapier at my side. None of the others carried any weapons, except that Alliuvia was carrying steel knuckles clenched in her fist.

The adventure had begun. We started walking on a well used, though not recently since the trade embargo, path leading to Spirituality. The trees loomed high above, the leaves creating cool shade with few breaks of the dawning sunlight.

The start of the trek was at a fast walk that turned to a slow jog that even I, an unfit historian with little experience outside the city; but the pace began quickening. Soon I was lagging behind the group. My breathing was rasp, hard and felt like too little air, then grew faster. My chest was pounding and my legs and neck were sore. Then, at last, we made it to our first break. It was midmorning and unlike me, the rest of the group were still breathing lightly. After a few moments, I caught my breath, and to my surprise all four of tem were pacing in anticipation.

The break was over, but the pace was much lighter. After quite some time, the pace quickened into a jog, my lungs were competing to keep my breath against the movement of my legs. The torture lasted quite some time.

The sun was high above our heads when we stopped for a lunch break. Their soft breathing and glances filled with both pity and disgust did not help me feel any more welcome. After my breathing slowed, I pulled out my first ration of milkweed and grabbed the canteen of water Davlamin, who got it from a nearby stream, handed to me. Everyone was finished with their lunch except me. I was only half way through when they had finished. As soon as I was done, they stopped their pacing and walked southward. It was quite clear that I slowed them down and I needed to push myself, so instead of keeping pace with them; I broke out into a swift jog passing each of them.

I took a glance backwards and found that they were following my pace. I pushed myself to keep this pace until late afternoon. I collapsed to my knees. Though my breathing war very heavy, the others breath can hard as well.

Krisiana decided after a short break, that our pace before was so fast that for the rest of the day we could go on walking. The problem with walking is it allows one to talk with others and this group was not very comfortable together. So there was silence yet again.

I knew I had to break the silence, so I asked Davlamin, “Do you actually control a spirit and use it to fight or is it an illusion of the mind?” Illusion of the mind is a poorly named power of Mentees when they make people sense in all seven ways, sight, sound, touch, taste, smell, spiritual awareness and mental awareness, a different thing than reality.

I expected anger, but instead he answered withe patience and calmness of a monk, “I do control my spirit and can use it to fight people. Really it’s like another body part to fight with except Spirits use their willpower instead of their muscles. Not only can they us their spirit, but Spirits can control other people’s spirits too.”

“How can you use other people’s spirits?”

It’s the same as controlling your own spirit except the shape and amount of willpower is different for each and every spirit. I still feel the pain of their spirit when its attacked, as I’m controlling it.”

Without any further questions, silence continued until dusk when Krisiana called for a stop to eat dinner. We each ate our own rations of phica, the size of one’s fist, a stalk of milkweed and a canteen of water. Everyone ate quickly this time like prey eating before the predator arrives and steals their food or eats them.

Silence enveloped the part again, so I decided to break the chilling ice by asking Alliuvia how strong she was.

Alli answered back, not with words, but by pulling one of the tallest trees in the forest up. Roots ripped form the ground, birds quickly scattering away from the tree due to the shaking, branches, twigs and limbs all falling alike from the strength of Alliuvia. She lifted it over her head and without straining herself. She quickly replaces the tree in it’s respected plot of land to avoid suspicion. She then looked toward me with a smug smile on her face.

Markus clearly jealous that he was out beat by a women, decided to show us his power of the mind. He began by speaking with a voice filled with pride, “Though my power cannot be physically seen like her brute force, my power can be though of without you even needing to think of.”

At first each of us gave a confused look toward Markus until a voice in my head said something, an even though I know I was not thinking of it, it felt like I was thinking it. At first, it sounded like gibberish until I got used to the sounds being forced into my head, then I realized Marcus was speaking to us telepathically.

The rest being stunned silent by the great feat by Markus, I applauded saying, “Quite fascinating I’ve never imagined something like this.” This went straight to his already overinflated ego.

Davlamin closed his eyes tightly though his composure stayed smooth. Then a ghostly form was being pulled right out from him. Each of the party members, excluding Davlamin, reflected the same expression stuck on my face, shock.

Davlamin’s translucent doppelganger hovered above him staring not at me, but into me. It’s bright white eyes stared through me into the deepest part of me,

I tore my eyes from the monster and noticed the other three were staring at the spirit with transfixed eyes and knees on the verge of buckling. At last the ghostly mirage sunk back deep within Davlamin, who’s expression poorly hid humor.

I had a smile on even though I had the same reaction to the spirit as the other three, all wearing masks of anger of shock. I looked at Krisiana and asked her, “So, what can you do?” I regretted those words before they even left my mouth.

She pounced forward with a tinge of red in her face, either embarrassment, anger or both. Then she spoke in a yelling voice, “You will find out tomorrow morning in your sword fighting lesson.”

This remark, in fact it was more of a threat, caused jeering and “oohs” to be proclaimed by Markus and Alliuvia; who were both giddy with laughter.

As the night grew, so did our exhaustion, but I had to keep my promise to Markus and tell him a tale of history. The group gathered around the campfire, most had blank or tired faces, except Krisiana who grudgingly stayed angry.

So I began with only a rew yawns causing pauses in my story, “I will tell you all the tale of how the three races, Spirits, Mentees, and Physiques divided from the commoners. It started well before the Renaissance of Knowledge, so there was no actual dated record, but it was said to be about ten hundred thousand days before the Renaissance. Commoners tried different ways to fight in battle with one another over petty things such as land or wealth. One group made their bodies strong and only married those with strong bodies creating a whole new race of people known as Physiques. They evolved into bigger, stronger and faster people, but also grew more savage because of those gifts. The second group tried to control their body better, but it split into two when one part controlled their spirit past any previous control and the other learned to control their brain better. This created the Spirits and Mentees. The third group tried to breath in the salt water until they were able to convert it into breathable oxygen, they were known to die off because they drowned all their offspring. The final group never truly evolved, but instead created weapons they could fight with, so while other races were changing the final group, now called commoners, developed many of the technologies and became the dominant race in the world of Ulthoran.”

Markus seemed happy, his face filled with delight like a child after a bedtime story. Each of us fell victim to sleep because the day’s exhaustion took a toll on us. Though I woke up multiple time for no reason, I just couldn’t get a full, restful sleep.