Empire of Sand

The term “elementals” was a broad one. Previously used to describe people with the natural ability to manipulate nature’s elemental forces, the phrase had been expanded to encompass all creatures similar in kind. None of us were certain of the etiology of our powers, but there were stories. Some believed elementals were descendants of the ancient gods and goddesses themselves. Others believed it was a trick of the evil spirits that circulated the after space, using energy stolen from wayward souls who couldn’t find heaven. Simpler theories, like mine, asserted that elementals were nature’s culmination of hereditary and evolutionary factors forged in precise increments, creating supernatural humans with an increased connection to nature and its components. Guardians.

No matter what you called us, or how we’d begun, there were many who despised us and persecuted us for our natures. Regular people feared what they did not understand, and fear led to violence.

I pondered this while I ate my dinner silently in the dining hall. Perhaps Ian was targeted for what he was. I’d rejected the possibility before because Ian was simply too powerful to be overwhelmed by regular humans. But what if he’d been surprised? Maybe his attackers had struck out with deadly force, knocking him unconscious before he’d even fought back? Or perhaps the culprits were other contenders, eliminating the competition when a convenient opportunity presented itself.

Tessie and I finished our evening meals without tasting them. Meal times were quieter in the banquet hall as our groups dwindled down in size and friends turned on one another. The buzzing excitement had shifted to a cloud of suspicion, save for a few smaller groups like Tessie and me.

I stared past the arching entryway of the banquet hall and into the shadowed corridors beyond it. Firelight flickered in the distance, like a ghost beckoning from its lair. In a matter of minutes, Tessie and I would steal away to the medical wing and visit Ian’s lifeless body before they shipped it to his family.

_#_

The medical wing was a cavernous space with ominous stone tables arranged in neat rows throughout. I counted a dozen of them; over half were occupied by bodies draped in clean linen and bathed in the glowing firelight. Burning torches lit the interior, mounted on the walls, and casting the room in eerie shadows. Tessie and I drifted in with the cold at our backs, eyes scanning the tables. Most of the bodies had engraved plaques affixed to their tops—at least the corpses would not return home nameless.

We drifted between the rows of bodies, reading their plaques until we finally found Ian’s. Tessie’s trembling hand hesitated as she lifted the corner of the linen off, revealing a battle-scarred face. Despite being cleansed by the attendants, his face still bore the narrow cuts and bruises of a battle lost and a tiny marking resembling a burn. I stifled a gasp as Tessie revealed more of his broken body. She lowered the sheet to his ankles. His arms bore a multitude of scratches, as did his legs. His bare feet were clean of injury, but his fingernails looked like he’d clawed at something or someone with enough force to bloody them.

Ian’s eyes stared into space, empty and unblinking, void of life’s essence. No one had bothered to close them, and I reached down and gingerly performed the task myself.

“Ash, Look.” Tessie pointed with a shaking finger.

Following her indication, I sucked in a breath and held it as I studied the gaping hole in his abdomen. Banshee told us Ian’s death resulted from an attack in the city—but no knife wound could have left such a grisly wound. Ian’s middle had been torn open, leaving a savage hole in its wake. The hole had charred flesh around the edges, like the aftermath of a bomb. Or fireball. Tessie and I stared in silence, too stunned to speak. I felt sick to my stomach as my dinner threatened to come back up. Somewhere in the distance, footsteps echoed down the corridors, reverberating off the cold stone walls. Every step spelled doom.

Suddenly filled with panic, I replaced the cover where it lay, draped over my friend’s body. Tessie held a shaking hand over her mouth, as if to smother a scream. I grabbed her wrist and tugged her along behind me, keeping to the shadows and ducking low. The footsteps paused nearby, and Tessie and I held our breaths. I could almost feel the other person hovering just around the corner, their breaths even and slow. After what felt like an eternity, the footsteps continued their progress down the corridor toward the room with the bodies, and Tessie and I sprinted through the corridors and out into the open air. Together, we collapsed in the courtyard, under the watchful gaze of a raven perched high in the nearest tree.

_#_

“Who do you think killed him?” Paul asked me the following night.

I soaked my left ankle in the small fountain in the courtyard, under the watchful gaze of my new friend, Paul. The days were getting increasingly painful as the weaker contenders were sifted out. My skin was decorated in an assortment of bruises, and my left ankle was sprained from my last match with the Phoenix.

“I think it had to be one of the other contenders,” I confided, “but there’s no telling what happened or why they attacked him in the first place.”

I wrapped my injured ankle, which had begun to swell, in linen scraps form the medical wing. Paul had encouraged me to visit the physicians there, and I’d refused. After procuring the linen for me himself, he’d insisted I explain my aversion to the palace physicians. So I’d told him.

“You think there’s more than one assailant?” he asked.

“I— Yes, I suppose I do.”

“Why?”

“I suppose I don’t believe that Ian was overpowered by just one person.”

Paul considered me for a minute. He pulled a pipe from inside his uniform and lit it, inhaling the smoke and blowing it out into the night air in puffs.

“I hope you don’t mind a little breech in protocol,” he said, waving the pipe.

“As long as you don’t mind a little breech in protocol,” I teased.

Paul winked at me and inhaled another puff of the sweet-smelling smoke, watching as it drifted lazily into the night.

“How do we find this person?” he asked.

I sighed and stared up at the sky. Mayven and I used to lie out in the grassy fields during the spring months and count stars, but we’d always fall asleep. I imagined my brother staring at those same stars now, our mother safely ensconced inside the cabin on the hill. Paul’s company reminded me of him in some ways—comforting and reassuring amidst the unknown. In a place where friends and enemies were hard to differentiate, Paul was a neutral party—and as close to a friend as I would get.

“Maybe I’ll come across him in the pods.”

“I’ll tell you what,” Paul said. “You keep meeting me after hours, and I’ll help you find your friend’s killer.”

“You’ve got a deal.”

_#_

We’d assembled at daybreak. The morning air was crisp and cold, and we stood collected in a group of shivering novices, preparing for the battle of our lives. Banshee loomed over us, clothed in his usual dark cloak, his pale skin stark in its contrast. Banshee’s proximity always sent shivers down my spine; I couldn’t be sure if that was part of his ability, or an indication of his character. Perhaps it was both.

“Today, you will each be sent to the pits and judged according to your performance. Spectators will watch from the stands, and your advancement will depend largely on their favor. The Emperor himself will be in attendance, so I suggest you fight with the kind of fervor you want His Majesty to observe,” Banshee announced.

The others stirred and whispered among themselves. Banshee’s announcement was another cold weight dropped on our weary shoulders. As I scanned the ranks, I took in all the battered bodies, scarred from previous battles. Every day another was missing, dismissed by the guards and escorted out. Our group was less than six now, and combined with another whose size had reduced comparatively.

“Are we fighting to the death, Banshee?” one timid girl asked.

Her shock of gray hair suggested she was some kind of a water elemental, and her delicate skin seemed to shimmer.

Banshee’s lips twitched in a sardonic grin.

“Alice, do you think the Emperor’s enemies will give you a break?”

Alice cringed and shook her head vehemently.

“Do you suspect that murderous traitors and marauders will stop before you are dead?”

The surrounding air grew colder and Banshee’s words sharper. His eyes constricted into snake-like slits, and Alice trembled where she stood. The rumor was that Alice worked a dairy farm out near Dyanna Ridge. Her father was a known drunk in the area, and he’d liked to hit Alice and her mother. Interestingly, Alice’s father vanished weeks earlier; many suspected he’d fallen into a trench or been eaten by wolves. The locals suspected Alice’s older brother, Hank.

“Answer me, you bottom feeder,” Banshee breathed.

Tears rolled silently down Alice’s rosy cheeks as she crumbled. Her lip trembled and her hands worked her tunic into wrinkled knots.

“No, sir. His Highness deserves a warrior,” she whispered.

Banshee straightened, appeased for the moment.

“Precisely. His Highness requires someone that will fight to the death. If any of you cowards count the cost too great, I invite you to leave now. We are not looking for opportunists seeking rank and reward; we are looking for selfless warriors willing to protect the Empire and its ruler.”

Master Givvens lingered nearby, his face turned up in suspicious lines. Though no words had ever been spoken aloud, it was evident that Givvens and Banshee did not care for each other. I reminded myself to ask Master Givvens if he had relatives in Cryth.

“You there—sand worker!”

The ranks backed away, leaving me exposed to Banshee’s shrewd gaze.

“Yes, sir?’

“You’ll be our opening contender. You’ll report to the pits at high noon. If I catch you conspiring with anyone in the meantime, I’ll see to it that you leave here in pieces, do you understand?”

Though Banshee carried a malevolence, he’d never issued such a direct threat. For the second time in as many days, I suspected Banshee had something to do with Ian’s death. Paranoia clawed at me as I considered his words and their meaning. Had someone learned of my late- night conversations with Paul, the night watchman? Would they punish him if they confirmed it?

I’ll see to it that you leave here in pieces.

I didn’t doubt Banshee’s word in that moment. He looked at me with either suspicion or disdain; I wasn’t sure which. I nodded my head, and he dismissed us all. We scurried away like chastened children or rats fleeing an angry farm owner. Poor Alice was as pale as a ghost and still trembling. Banshee was certainly in poor disposition this morning, and I suspected it had something to do with the Emperor attending the fights.

“He did it,” Tessie said.

I stared blankly at her as she fell into step beside me. She kept her murderous gaze trained ahead of us, and I pitied anyone who fell within her sight line.

“Who?” I asked stupidly.

“Banshee. He’s as wicked as they say,” she whispered.

I gripped her arm and halted us both, drawing her into a vacant passageway.

“Have you learned something?”

Tessie seemed anxious. Her eyes drifted from corner to corner, and she couldn’t sit still. This wasn’t the confident, defiant Tessie I’d met on our first day in Tristan. Whatever Tessie had seen, it unsettled her.

“I just don’t trust that man,” she said vaguely.

Tessie drummed her fingers impatiently on the stone wall I was leaning against. Had Ian’s death rattled her so much? Or was there something else on my friend’s mind?

“What’s really going on, Tessie?”

“Didn’t I just tell you, Ash? Have you not been listening? Perhaps you’re spending too many hours skulking about the grounds and not enough recovering in your bedroll.”

I was taken aback. Since when did Tessie listen to Roweena’s accusations? Or had she followed me, too?

“If you suspect me of something, please share it,” I said. “Otherwise, I’d prefer it if you kept Roweena’s words out of your own mouth. Her vile spirit doesn’t suit yours at all.”

Tessie narrowed her eyes and stared at me for the first time that morning. Her scattered attention was finally concentrated on me, but with the wrong intent.

“You are too trusting,” Tessie accused.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” I hedged. “You’re my only friend here—”

“That’s nonsense and you know it! What about the men you’re sneaking away to meet after dark, Tessie?! You are so naïve! Do you have any notion of the damage they might cause you? Of course you don’t,” she finished. “You’ve yet to suffer by the hands of others, and I suppose that isn’t your fault. But I caution you: The only threat greater than those who hate you are the men who pretend to love you.”

Tessie’s eyes filled with tears and she left abruptly, crossing the courtyard without a word to anyone else. Something was troubling my friend, and I suspected it involved a man—but whom? I hadn’t seen her talking to anyone, at least not at length. Tessie kept regular hours, relegating herself to her bedroll at lights out—unless she’d been sneaking around, too.

Could she have seen me speaking with Paul, the night watchman? Was it possible that Paul had spent time with Tessie, too? Or was she referring to William, who had been increasingly scarce the last two days?

I lingered for a time, mulling over the possibilities in my head. I could feel Tessie slipping away from me, and I ached with loss. I’d never expected to form friendships when I’d come to Tristan. I’d had a singular goal, and despite the reality of where I was, I’d allowed myself to become distracted by other matters. I felt like a fool for developing feelings for William, or for believing in a friendship with Paul. Even Tessie had proven less than reliable in the past few days. I supposed I didn’t like being alone as much as I imagined I did.

Crossing the courtyard, I turned left toward the city, where street vendors and traders conducted their daily business amidst noisy tents and pit fires with roasting meat. Smoke undulated, mixing with the smell of dry dirt and perspiring bodies, and traders called out to the passing patrons, who wandered the streets at a lazy pace.

As I passed through the gates of the training grounds, I glimpsed Tessie hunched under a shade tree, Banshee standing over her, speaking in hushed tones.

Perhaps Tessie had a few secrets of her own.