Jon Messenger - Burden of Sisyphus

The roof shook, as a Seque climbed the rear of the building and launched itself over the lip. It howled angrily at the Avalon before digging its claws into the stone floor and charging.

Ainj climbed to his feet and hoisted his rifle, tucking the stock under his arm. Leaping into the air over the main street, he opened his wings, caught an updraft, and glided into the chasm. He spun in midair, letting his wings carry him, as he twisted to face the roof he just left. The Seque charged, preparing to launch itself across the gap at him.

Bringing up his rifle, he fired several times. Flames leaped from the large-bore barrel, as the sniper rounds slammed into the running Seque. Gaping holes appeared in its abdomen, chest, and arms, as round after round shredded thick muscles and mangled internal organs.

The Seque staggered, as Ainj fired again, catching its neck and nearly ripping its head from its shoulders. The Seque collapsed onto the roof, tearing a rut in the stone as it slid.

Ainj smiled sadistically, glad to see another one of the beasts die. Still gliding backward, he never saw another Seque perched on the roof he approached. Tucking its muscular legs underneath it, the Seque leaped and collided with Ainj above the street. It wrapped powerful arms around his body and latched its long claws into his chest and stomach.

Ainj screamed in pain, as the Seque sank its teeth into his shoulder. Its massive bulk twisted, snapping his thin, hollow-boned wing.

The pair plummeted forty feet to the street, hitting the ground with a horrific crash. The Seque’s heavy mass made them spin until it struck the ground first. Its body cushioned Ainj’s fall and broke its fangs free of his body, but blood poured from numerous wounds on his shoulder, back, chest, and stomach.

Ainj coughed weakly, as specks of blood flew from his lips. His frail bones snapped on impact, leaving him unable to move. Around him, low growls emerged from the darkness, quickly followed by a sea of glowing, red eyes. The Seques stalked toward their downed prey.

Ainj closed his eyes, not wanting to see the razor-sharp teeth and claws that came to feed upon him.

Keryn sat outside the dean’s office, feeling like a child waiting to be scolded by her disapproving parents. From within, she heard muffled yells coming from Magistrate Victoria and the dean, as they discussed her situation. Her stomach fluttered from nervousness and dread, as she waited for the inevitable order to report within.

Keryn looked for a clock on the walls, anything to tell her how much time passed. Sitting in the chair, she felt it was already hours. The walls, however, were barren save for small placards indicating the Academy’s many accomplishments.

By the time the office door opened, and Keryn was called in, she was beyond dread and entered a realm of nervousness she couldn’t describe. All her hard work getting accepted to the Academy as a Wyndgaart hung in delicate balance. Her fate rested firmly in the unforgiving hands of the Academy’s dean. Swallowing hard, she stood and walked into the office.

The room was a cacophony of memorabilia collected from the dean’s years as a fleet captain before accepting the honored position at the Academy. Certificates and medals were framed in shadow boxes, mounted on the left and right walls. The rear wall was surprisingly barren. The shelves held only a few items, though their significance to the dean was obvious.

Braced by a stand, a copy of the Salisha, the holy text of the Avalon religion, was proudly displayed. Beside it, a bronze-cast figure of Itharial the Martyr sat on display. Though Keryn was well aware of the Avalon’s deep-seated religious beliefs, she always found the figure of the Martyr disturbing. The statue showed the Martyr in traditional pose at the moment of death. Pierced through the abdomen by a spear, Itharial was suspended prostrate, his arms cast wide and eyes staring toward the heavens. His mouth was agape, crying out a defiant challenge to both his assassins and the heavens. Above both the holy text and the Martyr, familiar Avalon words were carved on a banner framing the dean’s chair- Shirath Esquideuz Pithyas.

A polite cough brought Keryn’s attention away from the decorations and the dark-haired Avalon. Dean Brothius reclined in his tall-backed chair behind his broad, wooden desk. The dour look on his face told her all she needed to know about his mood. He was dreadfully unhappy.

“Cadet Riddell.” His soft voice carried through the room, and those two simple words made dread return twofold within her. The dean glanced briefly at Victoria, who stood beside him, before continuing. “Cadet Riddell, you’ve shown a great disregard for all the policy and regulations that I’ve enforced throughout my reign as dean of this institution. Those policies aren’t enacted to make your life more difficult. They’re in place to ensure everything runs smoothly here, and my students are protected at all times. You sent fellow cadets and one of my instructors to the infirmary. Therefore, you’re the single reason my students aren’t currently protected.”

Keryn swallowed hard and tried to speak. “Sir, I’m truly sorry for my actions….”

“Spare me your half-hearted excuses, Cadet!” He slammed his fist against the table. “I don’t want to hear rehearsed excuses and justifications for your actions. I’m not concerned about any teasing or goading that might’ve gone on from the other students. I’ve already heard it all from Magistrate Victoria.

“You might’ve been teased incessantly by the other students, Cadet Pythril included, but there’s a large leap that must occur when the situation escalates from verbal confrontation to physical violence. You chose to turn a confrontation, which you could’ve walked away from, into one that left a student hospitalized for the next few days. That behavior is unacceptable as long as I’m the dean of this Academy!”

Taking a deep breath, he smoothed back stray black hairs that fell loose to hang in front of his face. When he spoke again, his voice returned to the quiet, reserved tone he started with.

“What you’ve done is grounds for immediate expulsion.”

Keryn closed her eyes and bit her lower lip, fighting back a surge of emotion. All her hard work was disappearing in a cloud of smoke before her, because she couldn’t control her temper. The Academy got the better of her, and she used self-pity as an excuse to lash out at another student.

“However….”

Keryn’s heart pounded in her chest. She stole a glance at the dean, as she opened her eyes. Preparing for the worst, she hadn’t expected him to say anything but to pack her bags.

“For some reason I have yet to fathom, Magistrate Victoria speaks very highly of you and your potential. Against my own wishes, she has decided to become your advocate. There’s something she sees in you that’s obscured to my own vision. For that, she believes I should give you a second chance.”

Looking at Victoria, Keryn couldn’t hide her surprise. Victoria’s face remained as stoic as a block of ice, as she stared back at the nervous cadet.

“Do you deserve a second chance?” the dean asked, raising his hand to stop Keryn before she could reply. “The question was merely rhetorical, since your opinion isn’t a factor in my decision. I weighed both options closely before rendering a decision.

“On the one hand, you’ve proven that you’re dangerous. Whenever your temper gets the better of you, I fear I’ll see this same behavior. The Academy is filled with hidden stressors meant to test the flexibility and endurance of the cadets. This early in the year, you’ve already fallen victim to your baser instincts. How should I explain your actions to others if I let you stay, only to have you repeat tonight’s brutal assault?