Flesh and Steel
Fall 62nd, 701ov
Today has been quite the day.
There were seventeen of us with candidacy. We stood still and stiff before the magisters, and I could swear the metal was heavier on my shoulders today than normal.
I was nervous. Its not everyday you stood in Lord Gramis's audience chambers. I've seen him before, of course. But he was right there, looking over the paperwork and parchment, potentially detailing my life.
The Judge Magisters were standing parallel to us, facing us. I found my face focused on Judge Drace. I knew she must have already discussed us with the emperor. I wondered if she favored me. I know that she was friends with my father, long ago.
"So, you stand before me today," Gramis began, "looking for an opportunity to better serve this great country." He paused, setting the parchment down. "I am pleased with this class of lesser judges. You have proven yourself admirable of this council. However – the position of Judge Magister is meant for only one of you."
He spoke some more of honor and nobility, but my eyes were focused to the wall and I was distracted by the sweat dripping down my neck.
So, when he spoke my name, I was not prepared.
He told me to step forward, and I did. And I felt utterly alone, even though I was but 2 feet away from my rank of fellow judges.
"Naiyel Benagaski, only surviving daughter of Fenier Benagaski," his voice boomed, "I, along with this council, have chosen you to apprentice to the position of Judge Magister of this Archadian Empire."
You spend all your time dreaming of such words – and yet, when they come, you don't know what to feel. I certainly didn't.
Still don't.
You have to ask yourself – why do you do what you do? Did I always want to be a judge, like my father? No – I wanted to design buildings, I wanted to draw armory, I wanted to create. But when he died… all that mattered was his remembrance. And the best way to remember my father is to carry his name. As long as I serve the empire – his deeds with not be forgotten. Its all that matters.
I miss him.
And it is with that strength, that I serve the empire. It feels good to think that what I am doing now, he did once too.
And as Gramis stood before me, just as he must have stood before my father, I am able to go forward. He did this. I can do this.
The other lesser judges filed out of the room, and I felt… strangely alone. I felt small before the huge armor, the towering weapons and the commanding form that is the emperor.
"You will be assigned a Magister Judge to teach you the responsibilities this position requires. If you are successful, you will then be made a Magister yourself," Gramis stated, his brows drawn tight in sincerity. "As of now, you discard your given name," he said, which actually bothered me – "and in honor of your late father, I name you Judge Feneris."
And it was then, that I was hit with this – this pride.
Gods, above.
And then, the really interesting part of this evening happened.
I was so looking forward to be paired with Judge Drace. I respect her so – her strength, her nobility. Already, visions of us walking the great halls of the palace together, discussing politics, senate hearings, court dates, it was all flowing through my head –
"I am appointing you to Judge Magister Gabranth for your tutelage. You will begin immediately."
I think I cut my jaw when it fell and smashed into the inner part of my helm.
"My lord – I thought, I thought - Judge Drace-"
"Appreciated, but I have other duties to attend to, Judge Feneris," she said to me, striding past me and heading for the entrance. I watched her go, a little dumbfounded.
"Yes, while Drace usually takes the initiates and trains them, I have placed her directly in charge of protecting my youngest son, Larsa. Thus – Gabranth will be your teacher."
And it was then that I turned to face him, Gabranth. His helm is positively intimidating. He was probably offended that I jumped at Drace, and not him as my mentor, and I prayed he was not angry with me. He was deathly still, hardly moving. Hardly seemed human at all.
Judge Gabranth is the newest of the Magisters, trained under Judge Zargabaath a few years ago. Not much was known about him, save for his brutality in the court room, his success in the field of dominating lesser countries and that no one had ever seen him without his helm
And suddenly, I wasn't so sure about all this.
I'm still not.
"Come," he commanded smoothly, the voice bouncing inside his helm, and began towards the door at a brisk pace. I practically fled after him.
He took me to the upper tiers of the palace, climbing the steep stairs at record pace. I struggled to quiet my breathing when he paused outside an unmarked door. He touched a series of symbols beside it, and it slid open.
"These are your quarters," he said. "My own are directly down the hall, as are all the Judge Magister's. Your com has been set with them." He ducked, expertly avoiding the doorframe, and entered what would be my new living space. It was small, but a single – much better than the dorm like quarters the lesser Judges were accommodated. A small box of my belongings had already been deposited on the counter.
"The evening is yours," he stated coldly. "I will be awaiting your presence in the grand court tomorrow at 7am. I expect prompt response, and your full attention at all times." And with that, he strode out of my evening.
I wonder if Gabranth is pleased at receiving me as an apprentice. Somehow, I just don't get that vibe. I wish again that I had been gifted with Judge Drace, but there is nothing I can do now.
I miss my father.
Tomorrow, we will see where this all leads me.
Fall 66th 701ov
Wow I can't feel my limbs. That means writing is most difficult. This is brutal –
Fall 67th 701ov
Today, I woke at 5:30am. Made myself some blackbean coffee. Showered. Was appalled at how many bruises mar my figure. Laughed. And went to work.
I met with Gabranth in the gyms. He seems to lavish my silent hatred of morning. I've never been a morning person.
We spared until roughly 10 am. He insists on doing all activities in armor. I guess this makes sense. I am not used to beating the snot out of people wearing armor. It really tires me. That, and Gabranth is far stronger than I.
His blows are strong and measured. We're working with my defense first. And it's hard to defend myself against a man of his talents. Thus I am bruised and battered before noon even comes, a sweating messy ball of heaving metal on the ground, usually.
Gabranth left for the showers and left me that way today. Hell, I might have had broken ribs for all he knew, but he just left. It kind of irked me.
I must say, I enjoy lunch most of my day. Magisters have a special table in the southern café, and Gabranth usually takes us around the same time Drace is there. I actually managed to have a semi-intelligent conversation with her today, concerning foreign policy. She seemed to respect my input and I left the table feeling giddy. Talking to one of your idols does that to you.
Plus – the magisters take off their helms to eat. It just seems like, a more human interaction to me and I greatly relish it. I saw Gabranth's face for the first time – its not what I imagined. His eyes are piercing, always in thought. I only held his gaze for a moment before I could hardly stand it. Drace was much more comfortable without her helm, and I enjoy watching her face animate as she discusses policy with Zargabaath.
After lunch, we go to the courts sector. We have rounds, and each Judge Magister has a set of sessions to sit in upon, make judgments, etc. Gabranth is utterly terrifying on the podium – gods know, I wouldn't want to be the one standing before his judgment.
Which, essentially, is what I am. He judges my every movement. That is his job, after all. He doesn't seem to enjoy it terribly, though I sense he gets some satisfaction of beating the hell out of me in the mornings.
Again, I wish I was Drace's.
I digress –
The afternoons are filled with politics and court dates. Dinner is spent separately – I in my quarters, swallowing potions like water to ease my sore muscles and getting the hell out of that armor, and he doing whatever it is he does with his spare time. Right now, I'm writing this entry.
Tonight, he said we are doing something "Special". I don't know if he means special, as in fun, or special, I'm going to have more bruises. Time will tell.
Fall 68th 701ov
Gabranth took us to the royal craftsman, Heralim, last night. This is the man who forges the helms and suits of armor for the judges. The most pleasant part of this, was that Heralim asked me what kind of design I wanted. I asked him if I could think about it and get some ideas back to him, and he was very much interested in the idea of me designing my own helm.
So, I'm taking a break from that right now during my dinner hour. Thus far, I have three designs I like. I'm leaning towards the last of them I've come up with – it has kind of a beak, like a falcon or hawk, and the eyes are deep set. Wing-like ears extend of the sides vertically and provide balance for the front. I would prefer it made out of a light metal alloy. I like being able to move and see. I really dislike not having any peripheral vision, as with the helm I have now. Gabranth always seems to have at me during spar, especially when I can't see him with my helm. So I've designed this one with wider eye slits.
This has probably been the most fun I've had in ages, making this design.
Fall 71st 701ov
Today was a tough workout. I'm still terribly sore, but the mornings aren't as rough as they were say, a week ago. There was a particularly irritating elderly man in courts today, pressing charges against a guard who apparently stiffed him at a local diner. The sound of his voice really grated on my nerves. I think Gabranth felt the same way; we seemed to twitch in unison.
And at noon today! I received my new helm and wore it for the first time. I arrived at lunch a little late, holding my back straight and feeling like a new judge. Drace was very impressed with my design, and gave me praise. I was grinning like a loon underneath. She and I discussed how I came up with the look, and as I was telling her how I saw some statues with similar falcon design in lower Archades a few years ago, I think I felt Gabranth's gaze on me a bit more than usual. He didn't say anything about the helm at lunch, but before we just parted for dinner, he paused before leaving me at my door, and told me it suited me well.
I think it's the first pleasant thing he's said to me thus far.
Fall 74h 701ov
Gods above, this week has been insane. I had to go to the physician this morning, as I suffered a dislocated arm when Gabranth used a new offensive technique on me. I felt my cheeks burn in shame. I know I should not expect to be so talented as he is yet, but I still dislike failure! Gabranth dropped me off in the healers wing and went about his business. He didn't say anything offensive, however. I suppose I should be thankful for small favors.
I didn't talk much at lunch today, since Ghis was fuming about some issue with his infantry and seemed ever on the warpath. I choose my battles wisely – no reason to distract from his tangent.
Drace asked about my injury and I half glared at Gabranth for telling her about it. I shrugged it off, and how stupid of me to shrug it was, since that hurt in itself. She laughed at me, and it was good to grin like an idiot at her. But most shocking of all, Gabranth smirked – honest to gods smirked – and I felt sincerely comfortable at that table for the first time.
We are guarding Lord Larsa tonight at a play. It will be my first time seeing the young lord. I hope all goes well.
Fall 80th 701ov
I know it is inappropriate for me to say this aloud, so I shall write it down.
Lord Larsa – is adorable.
He almost changes my opinion of children – perhaps they are not all irritating, annoying, loud, smelly little creatures.
Only seven years old, he did not seem to mind the ferocious and intimidating giants in armor parading him around. Most amazingly mannered, he approached me at the intermission of the play, and asked to touch my helm. I lifted him to my lap, and he ran a small finger down each crevice, finally stating that he thought me most noble, reminding him of an ancient god of storm and winds. How does a seven year old know these kinds of things? I am not that well versed in history.
He chose my lap as his chair for the rest of the play. He paid acute attention for the most part, but lapsed for a bit, and boldly reached over to Gabranth next to me, and started fiddling with the man's hand guards.
It was actually… really touching. Gabranth said nothing, and endured it. I found the whole ordeal just homely.
The morning sparing is getting easier as well. Gabranth does not seem as vicious, and we have moved on to my offensive training (thank the gods.) My soreness is a constant companion, but now it does not seem to bother me every second of every day. My endurance grows – no longer do I lay in a jumbled heap of exhaustion; now Gabranth and I walk together off the sparing floor; even if I'm heaving and gasping for air.
I miss my father, tonight. I made myself a quick dinner of noodles and fish, and listened to some quiet music. He and I used to have these kinds of meals all the time.
I wonder if he would be proud of me?
Fall 84th 701ov
I didn't get knocked over once today in sparing. I was noticeably giddy at lunch today, Drace commented with amusement. Gabranth said nothing, but that's fine with me. I feel like flying, I am improving!!!
Fall 85th 701ov
Oh gods, I got knocked over today in sparing. Remind me not to be giddy at lunch from now on. My rump hurts, my back hurts. My arms hurt and some unknown organ hurts in my side. Apparently, Gabranth has some pride. I should've seen this coming.
Winter 2nd 702ov
Drace stopped at my unit for dinner, tonight. It was fantastic. I was a trifle nervous, and prepared a stew of beefs and vegetables, with freshly baked rolls. I haven't baked in a long time, since my father died, and it was pleasant.
We spent most of the conversation discussing new Techniques and Gambits, so I guess you could call it a business meal. But Drace removed her armor from waist up. I took this as her physically letting down some of her guard.
I'm glad she likes me.
I told her, tonight, that I wished she was my mentor. It just rather – slipped out. Seconds afterward, I apparently looked stricken when I realized that I said it aloud.
She smiled softly, and said she was flattered.
"Do you despise Gabranth so much?" she asked.
"No, not at all my lord," I stuttered. "I simply wish that it was you who I got to spend more time with."
She laughed at me. "Long has it been since I've heard those words. However – you should know that Gabranth is warming up to you. He speaks more of your progress now at dinner than of politics. You will be well received – perhaps it just takes time."
I gaped at her. I had no idea. I think that was her point, for she smirked, and made her leave for the evening work and Lord Larsa.
Winter 6th 702ov
Tomorrow we are going out of Archades for my first out of state business, a proceeding in a medium sized city named Miercus, much to the north. Gabranth says… there is a possibility we may be directly involved in battle if the discussions do not go well. I'm exhilarated to prove myself, terrified of battle, and excited to be leaving the capitol on ship. It's been a long time since I've been on an airship! But I am also nervous we will not be able to stop the coming civil war. I wonder if the Empire plans to evade the war by simply conquring them. Perhaps it would be better for them…? This is what Lord Gramis says.
My birthday is also tomorrow. I will be 24. I don't think anyone knows – and I would assume Gabranth would have me keep it to myself.
It seems to me that my mentor loves his armor so – When his helm is off, he seems to feel almost exposed. I relish the humanity of it, while it seems to put him ill at ease. I don't feel particularly comfortable talking with him about life issues. Drace is much better for these things. I wonder what could have happened to him to cherish his armor so? Its as if his skin is made of steel, and not flesh.
I must rest now – tomorrow will be most chaotic.
I have a twinge of discomfort when I think of us standing there, judges, between to feuding sides… I hope nothing ill fated is to become us.
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