Jonis by Rowan Erlking (manga ereader TXT) 📕

Jonis had never seen a cathedral. The comparison made no dent on his understanding. The ceiling was entirely silver scaffolding and glass. It reflected the light of the sun as it lowered in the sky, and it shimmered if they moved their heads. The walls were covered in white marble tile. The floor was rougher, textured granite in varying shades of gray. Here and there, fancy-dressed businessmen strutted across the square, hefting leather briefcases and dragging small carryon carpetbags. Some of the bags had brass wheels. The newly ranked soldiers clutched their duffel bags in their fists, feeling suddenly small.

“Are you lost?” snickered a young man dressed in a blue uniform. He had a small box hat on his head and an arrogant smirk on his lips.

Temis flustered.

Cyle answered. “No. Don’t be a wise-mouth!”

“Actually,” Jonis said, stepping forward. “We are a bit disoriented. We have just arrived after a long trip, and we need to be directed to our planes. These two are going to Calcumum. That one is heading to Stilson. I am going to Ladis. That one is heading to Harmas, and those two over there are heading north to the villages near Wimanus. Can you direct us?”

But the young attendant just stared at Jonis’s blue eyes. He retreated back, glancing at the other soldiers and trying to regain his composure. He swallowed. “C…can you say that again?”

The soldiers smiled, glancing at their Cordril companion. They had forgotten how intimidating it had been to face Jonis’s eyes for the first time. Jonis himself had forgotten (if only a smidgen) that his demon status was still a frightening thing. He had gotten so used to be just one of the soldiers at Dalis Camp.

Taking a breath and answering as if the man was not terrified of him, Jonis repeated, “We need to know where to catch flights to Calcumum.” He waited for an answer.

The young man blinked. He immediately pointed to the right. “Up the stairs and to the left. You can’t miss it.”

The two soldiers bowed and then parted from the group, smiling at Jonis.

“Thanks, friend,” one of the men called back.

Jonis nodded. He turned back to the attendant. “Ok, how about Stilson?”

The attendant was going white. He still pointed to the right. “Up the stairs and to the right.”

Temis smiled, patting Jonis on the back. “See you later, friend.”

Jonis smiled, waving. “See you.”

By now, the attendant stared at the other soldiers as if they were mad. He listened as Jonis asked for the next airport terminal.

“And Harmas,” Jonis said.

The young man switched hands and pointed left. “Go straight and then turn right. Head down the long corridor to the end. All Harmas flights are there.”

Cyle lingered, though he had his destination now. He had to smother a laugh, watching this man struggle with the urge to run.

“And Wimanus,” Jonis said waiting for the directions.

“Same way, except you don’t turn right.” The man’s voice started to shake. “Keep going until you see terminal eight. There it is.”

“And I want Ladis,” Jonis said watching the last two wave good-bye and march to their part of the airport.

The attendant swallowed. “Flights into Ladis have been cancelled. There is plague on its borders.”

Jonis blinked. “But I have to get there.”

Panting, the attendant said, “You can fly into Harmas and take a train.”

“That’s good,” Cyle said, dropping his arm around Jonis. “You can travel with me.”

“But what if the train is not running to Ladis?” Jonis asked, turning quickly from the attendant who was abundantly grateful to be released from his duty. That man ran to nearest security station, panting for breath and whispering to the security officer what he had just met.

Walking together, Cyle shrugged. He noticed the security guards follow them both as they walked to the left and down the wide thoroughfare. “Then perhaps you’ll have to hire a taxi.”

Jonis shook his head. “I guess the plague is at monumental proportions now.”

“They must really need you,” Cyle said.

A security guard stepped up, blocking their way. “Can I see your identification, please?”

Sighing—knowing the guard was not addressing Cyle—Jonis reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out his military pass. He also drew out his dog tags so there could be no mistake.

The man took them, peering intently at both pieces of identification. He then turned to Cyle. “Has your friend always had blue eyes?”

“All the time I knew him,” Cyle answered. Then he added with a broad grin. “He is a Cordril after all.”

“He admits to it?” The security officer gasped.

“Did you see my blue tag?” Jonis lifted it to make sure it was visible.

The man snatched at it and inspected it again. It did say that Jonis was a Cordril and highly dangerous. It also said he was Private in the Brein Amon army.

The security officer let the tag drop back to Jonis’s chest.

Smiling, Jonis tucked it away. “Thank you.”

The security officer stepped aside. There was nothing else he could do. Walking back to his security station, he pressed the private call button. As the two soldiers walked to the end where their terminal was situated, they felt and saw many eyes on them.

Cyle drew in a long breath and shook his head. “Heavens, do people always stare at you like that?”

“Only at first,” Jonis said, walking along as always. “Unfortunately these people have no time to get used to me.”

That made Cyle laugh. And they hurried on.

Together, they approached the flight counter. Cyle decided it was less problematic if he spoke to the attendant this time, handing the attendant their military passes. The next flight to Harmas was full. The attendant said they could fly along, but they would have to stand the entire time. Brein Amon law forbade the airlines from denying the soldiers passage, but it did not forbid them from trying their hardest to discourage them from taking a flight. This attendant gave them the option to take the next flight, which was less crowded.

However, Cyle took one look at Jonis and knew that they had to get to Harmas as quickly as possible. Jonis gazed downward, biting his lip. He had been tapping his feet nervously as if ready to run all the way to Ladis if necessary. 

When the plane arrived and unloaded its passengers, the flight attendants had the two privates stand aside while they let the paying passengers in first. If there were seats left, then they would be able to sit rather than stand. However, Cyle and Jonis had no such luck. All fifty seats were filled, and then some. Three other soldiers had joined the flight at the last minute: a lieutenant and two corporals. All of them had to stand in the back of the plane. The lieutenant sat on the floor.

“So,” the lieutenant said after inspecting Jonis’s and Cyle’s ID’s and tags. “Two brave privates off to their new posts. I bet you are excited. It is not every day a man in accepted into the Brein Amon army.”

A smart remark jumped to Jonis’s lips, but he made sure it never got past. He merely smiled, thinking it was only every month that soldiers were accepted into the army.

“So, you are both sent to Harmas, huh?” the lieutenant continued. He had a leering smirk on his face, glancing only mildly at Jonis’s eyes. “Pleasure city. I bet you are just waiting to get your hands on a few of the famous Harmas female entertainers. Harmas whores are the most accommodating in all of Brein Amon.”

Jonis clenched his stomach. He was feeling ill, and not just from the remark. Liftoff and the weightless rocking of the small propeller driven aircraft were not something that settled well with him. It was nothing like his ancient memories of flying as a pilot. Not smooth at all. Of course, this aircraft was downright archaic in comparison.

Cyle flushed. “Only I’m going to Harmas. He’s actually being sent to Ladis.”

The lieutenant raised his eyebrows. “Really? I hear Ladis is under quarantine. This is a very bad time to go there. You could get sick.” He then blinked at Jonis’s ill complexion. “In fact, are you sick now?”

Jonis shook his head. “No. I think I just need some ginger. You don’t suppose they have any on the plane?”

Cyle blinked at him. “Oh, motion sick. Sorry, I’ll go check.”

He walked up the aisle, calling to an attendant. He gestured back to Jonis. Jonis could not hear his words, but he saw the woman nod and briskly trot on her heels to the next compartment, parting the curtain.

“So, Cordril,” the lieutenant said in a darker tone, “How did you end up getting accepted into the army? They haven’t allowed demons to join us since the end of the war with the Sky Children, and that was many ages ago.”

Still holding his stomach, placing his hand on his mouth, Jonis tried to reply without getting sick on the carpet. “I’m a magister, or pretty proficient in most of the arts anyway. They need me.”

Cyle jogged back with a mint candy and a bottle of ginger ale. “Will this do?”

Jonis nodded, prying open the ginger ale bottle and chugging down several gulps. He took a breath and swallowed.

“Suck on the candy. The lady says it is highly potent,” Cyle said.

Opening his mouth obediently, Jonis dropped it in. Sure enough, the peppermint was strong. It helped his stomachache considerably.

“How does the Brein Amon army need a demon though? They can hire magisters,” the lieutenant said, not turning from his question of concern.

Cyle blinked at him. “What’s the problem? What’s going on?”

“Same old problem,” Jonis muttered. He took another swig of the ginger ale. The mix of that with the mint created a weird tasted in his mouth. “He wants to know why I’m in the army.”

“Oh.” Cyle nodded. Then he shrugged. “Why don’t you ask that question to the Patriarch. He’s the one who approved him.”

Jonis leaked out a smile. It was a satisfying response.

They hit a bumpy patch of turbulence. One of the right propellers sounded like it was having trouble for a moment, but it soon smoothed out again. Jonis braced against someone’s chair back, smiling apologetically. Cyle and the others took hold of what they could.

When it smoothed out again, the lieutenant asked, “How come you didn’t wait for a later flight? You could have sat down instead of standing up with us.”

“It is urgent that I get to Ladis as soon as possible,” Jonis replied. “And since the Ladis flights are cancelled, Harmas was recommended.”

“Not you,” the lieutenant snapped irritably at him. “That is obvious. I mean you, Private.” He waved at Cyle. “Why didn’t you wait? There is no plague in Harmas.”

Cyle lifted his chest and glanced at Jonis. “We came together. I don’t see why we shouldn’t travel together. Besides, we are under orders to arrive as quickly as possible.”

The lieutenant shrugged. “Alright. What do I know?”

Jonis blinked and stared at him. “But wait? Why didn’t you wait for the later flight? You aren’t going to Ladis also, are you?”

Smirking, the lieutenant shook his head. “Are you kidding? Go to Ladis? No.” He glanced at his two corporals slyly. “We have a weekend pass. I haven’t been laid in over a month. And since prostitution is outlawed in Mistrim, we figured we could go to Harmas for it. It is a free ride after all.”

Jonis covered his mouth and ran to the bathroom. Cyle heard him vomit, watching him clench the basin set in the small closet. He made a face.

“Still a kid, huh?” the lieutenant, said wryly. “I thought he looked young.”

Cyle huffed and shook his head. “It is not his age. Jonis is of a pure mind.”

“A demon? Pure?” The lieutenant snorted. “I bet you have no idea what devious thoughts run through that young demon’s head. He only looks innocent.”

Jonis pulled his face from the toilet. His lips were white and his eyes were going bloodshot. “You make me sick. Stop talking, or I am going to vomit again.”

Blustering, the