Callie's Heroes

PART III - LESSONS LEARNED NOW

Not long after Juniper returned carrying the rest of the team, the Major called everyone to the lighted circle. The delayed members of the party hadn’t encountered any issues during the half-hour wait, but were quite thankful to be away from the forest’s edge and back with everyone else.

The general plan was to take a group back to camp in an hour, primarily so they could warn off sending reinforcements. Ambria was feeling a bit off, despite her neck being fully tended to, and was relishing an early evening, planning to skip the Lastday evening bonfire back at camp entirely. After that, Juniper would be able to take another group back every hour, and they’d figure out the plan at that point. There had even been a couple mentions of maybe just spending the night in the grove, given how tranquil everything was.

“Listen up,” Major Celeste called out, projecting authority with her voice. “I want to talk about some things, so everyone, get comfortable around the fire.”

“Not fire,” Tazrok helpfully pointed out.

“You know what I mean,” Celeste said with a sigh, but smirking slightly, too.

Callie and Pixyl returned to the light from their makeout session in the shadows, and the few others that had been enjoying the darkness away from the center did the same. Callie had realized a few things over the past twenty minutes or so. First, she really liked kissing Pixyl, and second, it was really hard to feel someone up while they were wearing armor. Callie had debated taking her armor off, or Pixyl’s, but then realized things would quickly get more than a little heated, and there was that whole potential audience thing to contend with. Plus, she and Pixyl still needed to talk … eventually.

As people settled, some travel provisions were handed around the circle, giving everyone something to fill their bellies with as they talked. Most hadn’t even realized how hungry they were, and the fare was welcomed, even if only simple dried meats, dense flatbreads and fruit.

“We need to talk about this fight,” Celeste said once everyone was in place and comfortable. “Some things happened, and not all were good. While the Commandant generally prefers a more-casual peer discussion, frankly, I’m going to put it out there because you all have some things you need to hear directly and think about, before we meet with Xera.”

Callie had a sudden knot in her stomach as she mentally reviewed everything that had happened in the fight. From her perspective, it went remarkably well, but it was obvious the Major thought otherwise. Vanis and what happened to him would surely be a topic, but it sounded like some other things needed review.

The Major groaned a bit as she sat, removing her belt and swords and accepting some offered jerky. She settled into a spot between Olin and Rowani, with the other trainers next to them. This put all five of the trainers on the same side of the circle, and gave the sense that this was an important teaching conversation. “To begin, I do want to say everyone did a great job today. There are some issues, which I’ll get to, but everyone performed spectacularly. The training you’ve received in only four weeks truly shows. That final Elemental, the big one, was wholly unexpected, and each of you played a role in defeating it. Callie, I will call you out for doing an excellent job coordinating everyone in the heat of battle for that final attack.”

“Thanks,” Callie said, feeling slightly better with the praise.

“Still,” Celeste continued, “It was reckless to put yourself at such risk with your attack. If we hadn’t had multiple Shamans and potions, you could have ended up one of the Mana Dead, or worse. You were supposed to have learned that lesson when you almost melted your brain that day you hit Bronze. The same applies to you, Vanis. You ran your mana past your limits, and if not for Maugra, it could have happened to you as well. I know you know better than that. Everyone, if you are a class that needs mana to fight, then you need to be respectful of it.”

“Hey!” Callie snapped, feeling a little targeted. “I wouldn’t have done that attack if there weren’t that many Shamans. That big boss of a monster needed to go down, or we were going to need to fall back.”

The Major held up her hand to settle Callie’s temper. “I know, and the fact you told me to sound the retreat if your plan didn’t work tells me you gave some thought to what you were doing. If it hadn’t worked, though, we would have been in a bad spot, with effectively two downed teammates needing to be carried. You’re light, he’s not.” She gestured between both Callie and Vanis. “Even with Tazrok carrying him, the retreat would have been slowed.”

“Everyone,” Olin began, briefly interrupting the Major, “we’re going to point out mistakes that were made. We aren’t attacking whoever made them, we’re holding them out as an example for all of you, so both they and you can learn from those mistakes. This honest conversation is being done now, while the fight is still fresh in everyone’s head, and not muddled by a night of sleep or the passage of more time. That was one hell of a fight, though, and it could have ended up a lot different if not for some quick thinking and all of you performing exceptionally.”

“On the topic of putting yourself at unnecessary risk, I want to talk next about getting hurt,” the Major said. “Some of you should know better from the Bogwump fight, but this goes for all of you, so listen up. It is not brave to pretend you are not hurt. It’s stupid. If you are injured, you need to tell someone. If someone asks, you need to be honest when you respond. Pushing through broken bones, hurting limbs, or blows to the head will ultimately get you, or someone else killed.”

A few eyes swung towards Bratig and Ambria.

“Imagine,” Celeste continued, "if we had needed Ambria to rescue someone, but because she didn’t tell anyone about her neck injury, she instead fell from the weakness. Now we have not only the person needing rescuing in danger, but a critical Healer as well. Or you, Bratig. You took multiple blows from thrown boulders, I say again, multiple boulders! You could have had an injured spine or broken bones, even with your armored form. By brushing it off, you put yourself, and as one of our Guardians, the rest of us, at risk.

“But there is often no time for proper healing in combat,” Bratig pointed out, instinctively defensive like Callie had been.

“You’re absolutely right. But still, people need to actually know you are hurt, so they know what they can rely on you for, and so what healing is available can be prioritized and directed properly. If not available immediately, you might be told to drink a potion or eat some Berries instead. Again, it is not brave to simply ignore an injury, or pretend you hurt less than you really do.” Celeste waved her hand to the entire circle. “Learn this now so it never happens again, understood?”

There was a low murmur of general agreement and a sour look from Bratig. Even Ambria looked a little angry, although she was mostly angry at herself. She had learned this lesson from the Bogwump mission when Pixyl had been hurt, and then promptly failed to follow it herself. She knew better.

“We mean it,” Rowani said. “Healers and group leaders need to know everything that is happening, and that includes who’s hurt and how badly. This fight, in particular, had nine possible Healers. Nine! This was with a group of fifteen people. A Healer and the injured could have stepped into cover for longer, more-intense treatment if needed, with plenty of people still in the fight.”

“We understand that battle is chaotic,” Olin said, “but that gives you no excuse for foolish bravado when it comes to being injured. That just leads to mistakes being made and people getting dead.” He gestured generally towards himself and the other trainers. “Are we clear?”

There was another muted wave of agreement.

“Alright, then I won’t dwell and we’ll move on to the next topic,” the Major said, taking a breath, as if she was reluctant for whatever was to come. “Someone tell me, what did Pixyl do wrong?”

Next to her, Callie felt the Pixie immediately tense up, and in turn, she felt the need to say something. “What do you mean? If it wasn’t for her, we wouldn’t have killed the big one at the end!”

“Oh yes, I understand, but the question to all of you still stands.” The Major pointedly looked at every one of the recruits. “What did Pixyl do wrong?”

Around the fake-fire circle, the recruits looked at each other, all seeming to shrug in confusion at the question. Even Juniper had a puzzled look on her face as she seemed to struggle to find an answer, or possibly even understand what Celeste was asking. Pixyl just glared daggers at the Major.

The question hung in the air for almost a minute without so much as even a hint being provided, forcing each recruit to search deep for the answer that Celeste seemed to be looking for. It was finally a deep voice that broke the silence.

“Charge big monster,” Tazrok said carefully. There was no questioning inflection in his response; he knew it was the answer and he hated to be the one to say it. Looking towards Pixyl, he shrugged apologetically, adding, “Sorry, but did.”

“That’s right,” the Major said, nodding at the Ogre. “She charged without orders, and not just the big one at the end, but several times before that.” An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, made all the more ominous by the lack of crackling fire.

“He couldn’t decide anything! He even had to eventually put Callie in charge!” Pixyl scowled between gritted teeth, gesturing with two hands towards Vanis. How dare the Major call her out like this! If it wasn’t for her and Callie, the big Elemental wouldn’t have been defeated. Plus, she’d destroyed, what, a hundred of the smaller ones? Maybe more? And how many Greaters?

“Don’t worry, we’re going to get to Vanis,” the Major said, seeming to absorb the seething cold the Pixie was sending out. “Right now, we’re talking about you, though. Pixyl, you charged into that last fight when no order had been given to do so. You forced the rest of us to fight, if only to protect you. Bratig was injured. Ambria was injured. We were not at full mana. On top of all that, we were facing something nobody had fought before. We had no knowledge of its capabilities.”

You could cut the tension with a dagger as Pixyl and Celeste stared each other down. Callie was conflicted, because on one hand, the Major wasn’t wrong, not in the slightest. Callie hadn’t given it a lot of thought, simply being generally so in awe of Pixyl’s skills to not even notice she was often quite reckless, and the Major’s statement now made it obvious. On the other hand, at least for the moment, she and Pixyl were apparently a thing, and damn if she didn’t have a responsibility to defend her girlfriend! Before Callie could even speak, though, it was Wallir that broke the silence.

“Pixyl, you’re amazing,” Wallir said simply. “You have been such an inspiration for all of us. Not just that first day when we arrived and you saved everyone, but constantly. You’ve shown us how to not just kill Demons, but how to do it well. You’ve shown that a tiny Pixie can do anything, and if you can do it, then we know we can do it, too. You make us better soldiers and you don’t have anything to prove to anybody.”

“Yes, I do!” Pixyl lashed back, an angry snarl lacing her voice. “I have to do it better than everyone to prove them all w-w-wrong! I have to show them that I’m not a mistake.” The air was suddenly very, very cold and tense.

Callie had never heard Pixyl talk like this, with this much fundamental bitterness, and she could tell that the Major and now Wallir had both accidentally touched on some really deep-seated emotions. But after a few seconds of actually digesting Wallir’s words, Pixyl seemed to deflate slightly. The Druid wasn’t part of Pixyl’s tight friend group, and to hear such praise from someone without that bias of close friendship seemed to eventually pierce the Pixie’s armor of anger.

“He’s right, Pixyl” Olin added, gesturing to Wallir as he nodded in agreement, several of the others in the group also nodding, including Rowani and Maugra.

“Do you know how you prove yourself better, Pixyl?” Celeste asked rhetorically with a calm, caring tone, pointedly not asking who ‘them’ were. “You do that by coming home alive. You do that by getting the rest of your team home alive. And people come home alive by following the orders of the one in charge, so they can work together, not by charging blindly into unknown situations, risking yourself and maybe the rest. Certainly not by wandering off to engage the enemy because you’re ‘bored’.” The Major chuffed out a short laugh, and smiled. “Hell, Pixyl, you are the only person in the history of the entire Army to have received the Bronze Sword of Valor on their first day, and you also received a Red Heartstone. You have absolutely nothing to prove to anyone.”

“Little Pixyl,” Tazrok added, a strange, clear calm seeming to resonate from him, “you are mighty, you are not a mistake. But, it is now time to fight wisely, not recklessly. If you can do that, you and those who fight with you will be unstoppable. Quite simply, you will win the war for us. We do not need to decide this, because it is already true.” He sank back with a final nod, as if to definitively state he spoke the truth, before he shook his head once and put his hand to his forehead, nursing a sudden headache.

There was a long, hard silence, with Pixyl simply staring at the ground, the angry look on her face slowly giving way to other emotions. She’d let go of Callie’s hand, and was now looking at her own, as if seeing them for the first time. Pixyl knew Tazrok had used his strange aura power, that Chieftain's Inspiration. She’d felt it before, his primal sense of comfort he could cast to all around him. She knew that she was being influenced by him. She knew that! Yet, she somehow also understood the perfect truth in the Ogre’s words.

“That … got a little deeper than I expected,” Major Celeste slowly said, breaking the awkward quiet. “Pixyl, my apologies for … making the moment more personal. That was not my intent. Think on what we have all said, and we’ll talk more tomorrow, just the two of us.”

Surprisingly, her eyes still staring down at her hands, Pixyl slightly nodded, then quietly said, “Okay.”

Like air slowly leaking from a balloon, the tension around the fakefire seemed to deflate. Everyone shuffled and stretched and brushed away the heavy emotions, allowing them to focus on the simple message the Major had started with.

Carefully, Callie reached down and took Pixyl’s hand in her own. She could feel Pixyl immediately tense at the touch and start to pull away, but then she stopped, letting Callie continue as she finally realized who it was. There was too much of an audience for anything physical, even if to be comforting, so Callie simply held Pixyl’s hand trying to be there for her. She was really bad at emotional support sometimes, and Pixyl had just been dragged through something that dredged up deep, painful feelings. She didn’t know what else she should do.

“Let’s change topics,” the Major said, getting the attention of everyone. “There’s one other thing I want to discuss tonight, because it’s really important.” She gestured towards Vanis. “Before Tazrok and I came here as Juniper’s second group, I told Vanis he was going to speak, and to give some thoughts to what he needed to say. Sergeant, go ahead.”

Vanis cleared his throat, and then coughed nervously. “As you all know, I needed to turn command over to Callie towards the end of that last fight, so perhaps that rank is no longer warranted.” He tried to laugh lightly, but it didn’t make it any easier. “The Major asked me to guide you all through what was in my head, and why I had to do what I did. What I offer should not be seen as excuses, only as an explanation. It would be my hope that a lesson may come from my shortcomings."

The Warlock took a deep breath, as if inhaling a bit of courage, before continuing. "This enemy was quite troubling for me. My summoned minions were able to defeat the smaller ones, but as the enemy grew in strength, they became less and less effective. Most of my other spells are based on curses or charms, or require the target to be alive. They proved immune to those powers. Even my melded threat suppression aura proved useless, although I wasn’t surprised, as it is effectively a charm-based spell.”

Blowing out his cheeks, Vanis looked around the circle, taking in all the faces fixated on him. “I was not prepared for that final battle. We engaged too quickly, before we could strategize or recharge all of our spells and get full mana.” Several eyes swung towards Pixyl, but Vanis cleared his throat, claiming them back. “That seemed to throw my confidence off. As the fight progressed, nothing I could do was of any help, save minor distractions from my summoned creatures.”

“I think they were still helpful,” Callie said, trying to be supportive, “at least a little bit.”

“Not really,” Vanis said, shaking his head and giving a weak smile. “At least not against the large one. Nothing I had in my repertoire was of any value against it, and quickly I was overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness, and worry for all of you. If I couldn’t do anything …” His voice trailed off. “I froze,” he finally said. “Frozen with dread for my team as I fixated on everything that should have been done differently and as I tried in vain to come up with a workable strategy. Seeing Callie’s arrows and Pixyl’s attacks on the heart prove ineffective only strengthened the frozen moment.”

“So you turned it over to Callie?” Melga asked. “Why her?”

Vanis laughed slightly. “When I finally realized I needed to relinquish command, I looked for the Major. I couldn’t find her in all the chaos. Callie was the next face I saw.”

There was a long silence eventually broken by a low chuckle from Tazrok. It was infectious, and soon most of the circle were laughing along with him; laughing at the pure serendipity that had put the fight into Callie’s hands. Callie actually felt slightly offended. She had assumed Vanis had given the fight to her because she led the Bogwump attack, or at least because he trusted her. Now, she suddenly found out it was purely accidental luck. It was funny in a way, but still, her ego took a bit of a hit.

“For what it is worth,” Major Celeste said. “I was moments away from taking command. If I would have, I would have ordered an immediate withdrawal. At that moment, we were making no headway, which means we were slowly losing the battle. It was only a matter of time before either a boulder or those stone arms crushed someone. I think Callie saw that as well.”

“I did. I had that one idea, but if that hadn’t worked, we needed to get out of there,” Callie confirmed. “I wouldn’t have even done that, except for all the Shamans and having potions available,” she added, to re-emphasize her earlier point.

Around the circle, there were a lot of concerned faces and awkward glances towards Vanis. On a personal level, everyone generally understood what had happened to him, and understood how quickly moments of confusion could cascade upon themselves and overwhelm. But at the same time, that clear leadership is what was needed to keep everyone functioning as a team, and that had failed them. Torn between wanting to support their fellow recruit, and seeing how his hesitation put them at risk, nobody was quite sure how to feel.

Callie saw the looks on all the faces around her, and then the grim, almost apologetic eyes of Vanis. She felt the need to speak up in her friend’s defense. “Hey, everyone,” she began, “Vanis did exactly the right thing.”

“She’s right,” the Major concurred. “There is a lot that goes into being a leader, more than I could even scratch in the time we have tonight. One of those traits has to be a recognition when you are not in the position to lead, for whatever the reason is. It’s in our nature to not want to admit our shortcomings, so for Vanis to do exactly that is a good thing. My only critique would be that he probably should have done so sooner.”

While the recruits pondered what Celeste had just said, several mumbling to each other, Trainer Olin leaned in close and whispered in her ear. Callie couldn’t hear what they had said over all the low murmurs, but Celeste looked quizzically at Olin, responding with a simple, ‘Do you think so?’, to which Olin nodded an affirmative.

Clearing her throat, the Major seized everyone’s attention again. “When all of you arrive at the front, you’re going to find some things quite shocking. Nearly all of your fellow soldiers are going to be non-Advanced classes, and almost none of them will have Symbiotes. They are only going to know a subset of their entire class skills, and likely only at high Iron or low Bronze tier, or perhaps very low Silver if they’ve been there for a while. You are all going to be at least Silver, if not Gold tiers, and know all of your skills. Like it or not, you are going to be looked up to, and expected to be leaders.”

This was a sudden shock to everyone, although as they started to think through the Major’s words, they made sense, given Symbiote rarity. But, how were they supposed to lead? They didn’t know how. Vanis? Sure, he was the Prince. He knew how to lead before he even arrived, despite what had happened during the fight today. But each of them?

“We generally don’t tell recruits this, because it can be a distraction,” Olin continued, “but given this conversation we’re having, I think it’s useful. Please don’t share with the others, though. As we move into these next weeks of training,” we’re going to start focusing more on mixed class group combat. You all know when and how to use your skills now. Even new ones you will receive at Silver, or even Gold, you will know how to quickly master, with minimal guidance needed from your trainers. Instead, much of the rest of the term will be spent learning how to use them together with other classes and how to fight as a cohesive group. Then, specifically, during the last two weeks, there will be much more focus on that leadership you’ll be expected to provide as an expert of your class.”

“This won’t be leadership at the level of an officer or field sergeant,” Celeste said, “but the kind needed for leading small teams; perhaps three or four people, during the thick of it. You all already know how to fight. Instead, you’re going to learn how to get everyone to fight as one.”

Around the circle, there were a lot of wide, concerned eyes. The earlier discussion about Vanis, what had happened, and the realization that the same could happen to them in similar circumstances, had already set the heads of the recruits spinning with worry. Now, they were going to be expected to step up and do the same? The knowledge was suddenly a bit overwhelming.

Trainer Olin laughed. “Please, don’t dwell on this information. Instead, think about how much you’ve all learned in only four short weeks. You will all leave with the knowledge you need, don’t worry about that. But, the important information to remember, as you begin to pick up these leadership skills, is that not being able to do something is not a failure. The failure is not recognizing that fact, or letting your own ego get in the way of what is right for the team as a whole. Never forget today’s lesson. It will save lives some day, possibly including your own.”