April 2560
1600 hours
Ephsu system
Zeta Halo
The blood wouldn''t stop flowing. The wounds came from the continuous fire of a standard-issued UNSC assault rifle. Wielded by anyone else. Jega Rdomnai would''ve evaded the bullets with ease. But he didn''t fight anyone else.
It was the demon, the master chief, the Spartan who had defeated the Covenant. Who had defeated the flood? Who had defeated Jega Rdomnai just moments ago, leaving multiple punctures in Jega''s body.
Replaceable. My body is replaceable. Jega reminded himself as he slowly made his way to the elevator room. He knew where the Demon was heading. To save his pilot friend, who, hours earlier, Jega captured and brought to the leader of the Banished. Escharum. That''s where he will find the Demon and Escharum. As Jega made his way to the elevator, blood trailed behind him as he did everything in his power to ignore the pain.
Endure... endure…
Jega slammed his fist into the control pad, which brought the elevator down. He could feel his body ache and his mind sway. He had lost too much blood. If it wasn''t for prosthetic enhancements, Jega would''ve keeled over by now. He used the wall beside him to keep himself standing. He would not buckle. He would not falter. In his fight with the Master Chief before he could be killed by the spartan, he activated his active camouflage and retreated into the shadows. Most Sangheili would see that as cowardly, and even Jega could not deny his Sangheili blood boiled with rage at what he did. His pride getting the better of him. But he did not survive as long as he had to let himself fall into the stubborn ways of Sangheili culture. He let that rage fuel him. He shifted that rage for survival. For anger meant he was still alive.
The elevator doors slid open, and he slowly pushed himself inside. Jega could feel every agonizing and precise movement his body made. Some of the bullets dug themselves deeper into his flesh. Causing him to sway and catch himself on the elevator''s control panel. He could feel himself slowly falling to the ground. Losing his grip on the elevator controls. Sitting in a small pool of his own blood.
Endure. Endure. My body can be replaced. My mind... my mind can endure. It always has. He thought to himself moments before passing out.
2510
Urs-fied-joori system
Sanghelios
The heat of Sanghelios sun Urs blazed down upon Jega''s back. Sweat dripped slowly from his forehead and mandibles.
"Again." Jega''s blade master said curtly before kicking Jega''s burn blade toward him. The sizzling blade was similar to that of a Sangheili''s energy sword. Used long before the plasma swords were standard issue, these blades were charged and heated from within, causing the metal to burn almost as brightly as the sun in the sky. But they still made for great practice tools. Jega picked up his burn blade by the handle. Its superheated metal glowed a bright red, and Jega could feel it on his skin. Jega and his blade master Roko ''Kasheen had been practicing for hours. This was common for Jega. Day in and day out, he was made to fight and train if he were to become Kaidon of the Rdomnai Keep someday and Roko ''kasheen would make sure Jega did not stop that training. The older Sangheili was in his later years, but he moved like he was in the prime age for any warrior. The Sangheili also lost sight in one of his eyes after a plasma grenade exploded near him during the Unggoy Rebellion. Nothing seemed to stop Roko, though. The loss of eyesight in one eye seemed to heighten his wits and make him stronger. Which Jega wished wasn''t the case.
"Maybe it is time for-." Jega could not finish his sentence before a burn blade lunged toward his chest. Jega quickly parried the attack with his own blade. Sparks sprinkled the air in a small burst. Jega made some distance between himself and Roko ''Kasheen.
"If the young master asks for a break one more time. I will be forced to break the young master''s leg." Roko responded in a voice that showed no emotion.
"I only ask because the sun is right above our heads. My body aches from the training and-."
"Do you believe your enemies will stop trying to kill you just because your bones ache?" Roko asked, beginning to circle around the young Sangheili. Jega Rdomnai held his burnblade up. His muscles ached, and the heaviness of the blade was much more apparent. "Your enemy will not care and should not care what state your body is in. You must endure. Endure the pain." Roko said before lunging forward. He moved fast. Jega had barely enough time to stop the blade with his own. Sparks exploded outward again. Some fell onto Jega''s face, making his skin tighten and flinch. The impact of the two blades colliding made Jega''s arm vibrate up his body. He was so tired. He could barely hold off Roko''s overwhelming presence.
"Endure Jega! Fight back!" Roko shouted in Jega''s face. Jega moved with the might left in his body. Swiping his leg under Roko''s own. Causing the older Sangheili to fall right on top of his blade arm. The older Sangheili seemed to anticipate this move, and on the way down to the ground with his free hand, he grabbed Jega by the collar of his training harness. Pulling Jega down with him. The two Sangheili lay on the ground. Both burn blades clattered to the side.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
"Are we done now?" Jega asked breathlessly.
"Have you learned your lesson?" The blade master asks.
"If I say yes. Could we go back inside?" Jega says as he stares at the setting sun.
The Blade master snorted, which caused Jega to jolt upright. He had never heard nor made Roko ''Kasheen laugh.
"You have the same sense of humor as an Unggoy." Roko Kasheen said. Sitting up slowly and getting to his feet. He held out his hand for the young Sangheili which Jega happily accepted the offer for aid.
"At least they know when to quit," Jega replied.
The Blade master slammed both hands against Jega''s shoulders. Causing him to focus his attention on the old Sangheili.
"Jega Rdomnai, you are the heart and blood of the Rdomnai Keep. The Rdomnai name. You must understand that my teachings are vital to your success as a true Kaidon. What is it I always say to you?" Roko says. Looking down at Jega.
“Endure?” Jega said, more as a question than a statement.
“Correct. Do you know why?” Roko asked.
“Because Endurance. To endure longer than your enemy means you live longer than your enemy.” Jega said. Starting to understand.
“Exactly. Endure Jega. Endure and you will live.” Roko said before patting the young Sangheili on the shoulder. “Now we may go inside.”
April 2560
1600 hours
Ephsu system
Zeta Halo
How long had the Spartan Killer been asleep? Jega stirred awake as he looked around himself. The blood that pooled around him was beginning to brown. His body felt weak, and he could barely stand.
Death... does not sound entirely terrible. Jega thought to himself as he looked around at his surroundings. The dim red light was ironically too much for the Spartan killer to handle. He squinted as he looked about the elevator. There was nothing inside except for himself. Nothing that can repair him. He looked at the controls of the elevator. It seems that during this time of him sitting here, he never pushed a button to send him up to the torture chambers of the human pilot.
What a fool I am... He thought to himself. He looked up at the dim light that felt like the sun on his skin. As if Urs had been pulled from its orbit and plopped down in the middle of the elevator. Jega could have sworn he was beginning to sweat from the heat of the lights. But that might just be the blood loss. Jega reached for the control panel. Too far away, He thought. Just my luck. As he sat there. Allowing himself to succumb to his wounds.
The elevator began to rise beneath him.
It was a gentle vibration and a small hum which Jega gladly accepted over the deafening silence around before. He looked at the control panel and was surprised at the site before him. Standing there was the one-eyed old blade master. With gray skin and a warrior''s stature.
“Blade master?” Jega asked in surprise. Roko Kasheen had been dead for close to four decades now. But there he stood tall and proud as if he didn’t die all those years ago.
“Endure Jega. You are the heart and blood. Do not forget your place.” The Blademaster said as the elevator lurched to a halt, causing pain to shoot up Jega’s body. As Jega looked back at his old teacher after closing his eyes in pain, the old Sangheili was gone. I am not surprised. I am going mad. Jega thought to himself before slowly holding onto the control panel. Lifting himself mostly with his robotic arm, which seemed to carry no pain at all. As Jega stood there staring at the door as it slowly slid open, he thought on the old Sangheili’s words.
You are the heart and blood, Roko said.
If only that were true. Old friend. Jega said. As he limped forward. My place has long been forgotten.
*
Jega was not surprised by the corpse he saw. Not only was he defeated by the Demon, but the war chief of The Banished Escharum lay on the ground in front of the now empty torture machine. The room looked in disarray, like an epic battle had taken place. UNSC bullet casings covered the floor. Plasma burns and the eruption of fusion coils left their mark on the walls and pillars that held this room up. But no matter how long the battle lasted. Jega was too slow, for the body already began to build up a stench that if Jega wasn’t already dying himself would have repulsed at the scent. A few of this Ring world''s bugs had begun flying around the husk of Escharum. This once great Jiralhanae lay here, battered, broken. The light that Jega saw shine in Escharum’s one good eye was now nothing more than a dark and sad sight. Even for the great Jega Rdomnai, the Silent Shadow, felt a weakness. A feeling he had long since regretted, hated, and spat at the fact he had any semblance of it remaining in his body. The feeling of sadness for a dear friend. Why he felt this way, Jega could not explain. He felt a sense of camaraderie with Escharum. He respected the old warrior and war chief as his leader. But to call him a friend? To consider someone who would die so easily by the hands of a human a friend? It made Jega Rdomnai feel weak. But it made little difference as the blood from his wounds suffered by the same human stuck dry to his armor and skin. Jega was swimming towards the same boat as Escharum and sooner or later the Sangheili would climb aboard.
It made him boil with rage. To die at the hands of a human. When there was so much more Jega needed to do. To fight. To kill. Jega’s mind focused on nothing more than the rage. The wounds he had suffered became more of an afterthought. Jega was determined now. To fight. To kill. He had a score to settle with The Demon. He made his way to a weapons cache. Igniting the energy sword that sat there for a moment.
He never liked the color blue. He hated it and the blue glow of the energy sword just helped his rage fuel more throughout his body. He wasted no time at all as he brought the flat side of the energy sword close to his body. The sizzling hot plasma burned his skin and caused him to shriek and roar in pain.
Endure! ENDURE.
He chanted to himself in his head as if it was more Prophetic than the San''Shyuum lies about the “Holy” rings. These words have lingered in Jega’s mind. Lingered long before he became a covenant soldier, long before he became a Silent shadow, and long before he became Banished. These words held so much more weight than any other doctrination tactic. If there was one thing Roko Kasheen was right about, it wasn’t Jega’s fate to become the head of the Rdomnai Keep, but Jega’s endurance. His ability to endure. And as the Blademaster pulled the energy sword away from his now cauterized wounds. Jega could only feel empowered.