The Heroes Fall -1- When War Calls

by Zy Rykoa

  Jaden walked to the grand stairway and followed it down. The stones were polished completely smooth, allowing him to see his blurred reflection in their gray surface. All of the stone had been polished in this way, including the great temple at the very end. It was like a pyramid in design, made of four different sections with a wide base and a small top. There was a stairway up to the second level leading to two doors made of thick steel. Each door had the same engraved symbols as he had seen on the walls, and above them, on the centre of the third level, was a large symbol that looked like two snakes facing the right, their tails entwining together twice at the end to the left. Two thin, black, crystal obelisks flanked the symbol, twenty yards to each side, rising above even the fourth level, where there existed little more than the flat top made of stone.

  Jaden thought hard about the symbols; he was sure he knew them, yet he had only seen them minutes ago. He brought the loh-korah up to his eyes, scanning over the many symbols that were there. They matched, all except the symbol of the two snakes. Was this the place his grandfather had meant for him to find? He had to find the water that was good, so that he could heal. He walked down to the fountain below, where a curtain of water sprang out from ten feet above and arced over in perfect sheets, hiding what was within a little with a slightly transparent shield. As he neared the edge, he could see two figures inside. They were human, statues of a man and a woman with their hands on each other’s necks and their foreheads pressed together. They looked strangely familiar, but he could not place them. He then looked at the water underneath them. It sparkled in the light as its many ripples spread out toward him. It was beautiful, too beautiful to bathe in, he thought. He was still covered in the mud of the tunnel and did not want to ruin the water in case the caretaker was still here. He could not see anyone, though. The place seemed deserted.

  Perhaps they would not mind if he took a little drink to help heal his sickness.

  After rinsing his hand a little by splashing water out of the pool, Jaden took a mouthful. It tasted pure, smooth and without any grit or chemicals. He took another mouthful, and then two more, feeling now just how thirsty he had become. It relieved the irritation in his throat a little, but he still had the urge to cough. The water was not what would heal him, he decided, and stood to go and explore the temple.

  He had walked up no more than ten of the twenty steps when he stopped. He felt tired all of a sudden, nauseated and with an overwhelming need to rest. He fell to one knee, but forced himself to go on, climbing another five steps before coughing violently. His throat felt as if it had become completely dry. His muscles ached as if they were being crushed in a vice and his head spun uncontrollably. The sickness was taking control of him.

  The water, he thought. What had it done to him?

  He pushed on, climbing another two steps where he was able to lay his head down. He could feel the pain then, gripping his entire body as the strange spears began to fly around him. He wanted to fight it, wanted to be free, but the sickness combined with the water was too strong, and he was too weak, unable to fend off the virus any longer.

  With eyes opening and closing slowly, the hollow of the mountain faded away, and he climbed the final step where he rested against the railing, slipping out of consciousness and into a tormented dream.

  Chapter Fifteen

  They find no chance of change in a memory.

  January 20, 997 R.E.

  The destruction of Callibra played out far below—a faded memory of bloodshed and horror, now in the deepest reaches of his mind. Jaden stood watching from the mountainside, staring helplessly as he had done on that gruesome day, watching in utter defeat as the Alliance military force took control of his home. They had managed to arrive without any real warning, avoiding even his grandfather’s keen senses as they neared the Gates, and took his home from him.

  Jaden raced forward. He knew that it would be in vain, but he could not bear to see it all again. He had to get home, had to get to his family before it was too late. He would save them this time. No matter what stood in his way, he would not let them die again.

  The sky seemed on fire as he ran—gold and orange stretching to the horizons, as if a reflection of the chaos in the village below. It lit his way, but he could barely see through the tears forming in his eyes. He kicked a rock that protruded from the mountainside in his haste and began tumbling uncontrollably, the world becoming a blur as he rolled. He was caught and held by the bushes below, allowing him to stand up, unharmed.

  It was dark now, the fiery glow had vanished, but that was not all that had changed. The gunfire and explosions had stopped. The screams of his people had silenced, and the roar of the fighter jets was no more. All had become quiet.

  The village was safe.

  Slowly, he moved through the buildings in confusion. Somehow the battle had come to an end, and those who had taken shelter inside their homes were gradually starting to come out. He could see only a few of their faces, the moon and rings shining dimly in a cloudless sky, but he knew they were greeting him; bowing to him as he passed, wearing smiles but saying nothing. It almost seemed as if nothing had happened, and the rivalry of the social clans had finally been forgotten.

  Jaden walked on, nodding back to some as he passed. He then saw Bo and his friends waving to him from one of the houses. They were sitting lazily on the walls, conversing among themselves. He waved back, and it felt as if he were with them again; a thousand stories being told in the briefest of instants as they shared their thoughts with one another, teasing in the name of fun, content simply to be where they were.

  He stepped toward them, but then stopped. There was something else here that he had to find. He waved once more to Bo and the others, signalling that he would join them later, and then he continued on his way. His home was only another twenty yards from where he stood. He could see his family waiting for him. His father was standing behind his mother, holding her in his arms, while his sister was sitting beside them, seemingly not too interested in anything going on around them, and his little brother was waiting anxiously for him to come pick him up.

  He stopped several yards from them, looking into each of their eyes. Like the others, they were all now smiling, as if the attack had never happened. Callibra as they knew it was a peaceful village, free of the wars, and nothing would ever change that. Everything was right in this moment, in this paradise they had lived in for as long as they had known.

  But it wasn’t right. It couldn’t have been. They were dead, all of them. Callibra had been destroyed. None of this was real. Jaden felt the rage beginning to burn inside him again. He wanted to make it right for them, so that they could be this way forever, for all eternity. He couldn’t bring them back to life, but he could take the lives of those who caused their deaths, bringing justice to the senseless crime. He wanted to do it for them, in their names, to give them the peace they deserved.

  He looked into each of their eyes, wanting to apologise for all that had happened. He tried to tell them he was sorry, that he had run as fast as he could but still hadn’t been able to get to them in time. They looked back at him, unsure, confusion set firmly on their faces, as if they did not know what he was saying.

  They couldn’t hear him.

  All was quiet in the village.

  Jaden lowered his head. There was nothing he could do to make them see how he felt or how much he wanted them to be with him again.

  He looked back up. ‘They will die for taking you from me,’ he said.

  They would not hear or understand him, but he needed to tell them, to feel that the ghosts of yesterday might somehow know that they would not be forgotten, and the crime of their deaths would not go unpunished.

  As he turned to walk away, he felt a tug at his arm, gentle at first, then stronger as it began to shake him. He turned back to his right, but saw nothing there, as if it were an invisible force trying to get him to stay with his family.

  His eyes eased open as he woke from the
dream, allowing only a little of the light to seep in.

  ‘Jaden.’ He could hear a woman calling him. ‘Jaden, wake up!’

  Through small openings, he could make out a figure in front of him. He closed his eyes again, wanting to return to where he had seen his family, to feel that he was at home.

  ‘Jaden, please wake up,’ the woman persisted.

  ‘What do you want, Traveller?’ he asked sleepily. ‘I will talk to you about the rings in the morning.’

  ‘It is morning, Jaden. I let you sleep all night.’

  Jaden became completely awake. ‘Tarsha?’ he asked in surprise.

  The old woman nodded. She was sitting in front of him and wearing the same clothes as she had worn in Callibra. Her hair was as tangled as ever and her face had only been briefly rinsed, much of the dirt and muck of travel remaining in the lines around her eyes and lips. ‘It is good to see you alive,’ she said. ‘I was afraid you had not made it.’

  Jaden looked around him. He was still inside the hollow of the mountain; the lush gardens, stone shrines and flowing waterways looking vibrant under the glow of the sphere above. He was still alive. The water had not poisoned him. He coughed loudly as he sat up. The sickness remained, but he did not feel as badly as he had before he slept.

  Jaden rubbed at his right eye before trying to make sense of anything. It almost didn’t seem real. How could this place exist? How had he managed to find it? He thought it more likely that he would have died in the storm, or become too ill from the cold to live on until the next day. But here he was, dry, warm and safely inside a mountain that not only had amazing gardens and stone structures within it, but also the most beautiful statues he had ever seen. The faces of the statues came to mind; he remembered seeing them through the curtains of water, trying to place where he had seen them before. They were familiar to him somehow, he knew that, but he couldn’t think how. The man, he decided, was unrecognisable, looking like no one else, but the woman … she was real to him. He glanced around the hollow once more, the light stinging at his tired eyes and forcing him to squint. But he had seen enough. He knew the answer.

  The statue was of Raquel.

  ‘This place is Daijuarn,’ he said.

  ‘It is,’ said Tarsha.

  ‘How did I get here?’

  Tarsha made herself more comfortable on the step below him, wincing in pain slightly. ‘I don’t know,’ she said.

  ‘How did you get here?’ he asked.

  Tarsha was distant for some time, and then as if she had finally heard him, she answered. ‘You were being tracked—did you know that?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Jaden instantly. ‘I mean no, sorry. I thought I knew.’

  ‘Not just by me, it seems, but the Alliance. They are interested in you, for reasons I cannot guess. You’d best be more careful, Alliance scouts are not easily fooled. You should at least make some attempt to hide your way.’

  ‘Did he follow me in here?’

  ‘No. He will not be following anyone anymore,’ said Tarsha, placing the rifle on her left upright so that Jaden could see it. ‘You would have suffered the same fate had I not realised who it was in that uniform of yours. Where did you get it?’

  ‘The fort,’ said Jaden with a shrug.

  ‘The fort?’ Tarsha repeated, her eyes becoming alight. ‘You were captured?’

  ‘No, I climbed in. There were no guards on the walls.’

  ‘Reckless,’ said Tarsha. ‘You are lucky to be here.’

  ‘I wanted revenge, what else could I have done?’

  ‘Followed your grandfather’s advice, for one!’

  ‘I’m here now, aren’t I?’ asked Jaden, almost angrily.

  As if sensing Jaden’s new mood, Tarsha quieted, while Jaden looked away from her then shook his head before placing it into his hands. He hadn’t meant to sound so irritated. This place did something to him. For all its beauty, it made him feel strange, on edge, almost anxious. There was something about the false light and the feel of the air that would not allow him comfort. None of it felt right. It was not real, not by nature, of alien design. This was a place made by those who had failed to help his people when they were attacked, and had failed to help him when he had fallen over the waterfall. He could sense it.

  ‘How did my grandfather know of this, does he know the Daijuar?’ he asked, trying to take his mind off the nagging sensation building within.

  Tarsha refused to look into his eyes, staring somewhere off in the distance. ‘I do not know his true association with them, but he has been my source of knowledge for many years.’

  ‘Why did he want me to come here?’

  ‘That is something we will have to learn on our own.’

  Jaden stood and walked down to the fountain, looked inside to see the statue of Raquel and then turned toward the gardens behind him. There was fruit on the trees, and many of the smaller plants he now noticed were vegetables and herbs. There seemed everything one needed to replenish their health.

  ‘What is this place?’ he asked, approaching the closest tree. ‘Do the Daijuar live here?’

  ‘At times, perhaps,’ said Tarsha, her voice clear in the stillness of the air. ‘I believe they would call it a monastery. Look,’ she pointed upward to the centre of the hollow, ‘that is a Taj Mylun—a synthetic sun, a tribute to the power they use and a means of rejuvenation for them. It will give light long after we are gone, maybe even forever, and keep these plants greener than any others you will ever see. The temple here is for meditation, or perhaps sleeping, I do not know. There is much I still have to learn about them, but by that symbol you see above here, you can be sure it is of Daijuarn design.’

  Jaden stared at the symbol of the two entwining serpents, and then at the markings below. He then looked at the loh-korah. His grandfather had given it to him and told him that it would help, somehow. The symbols were the same as he saw now. The loh-korah must have been Daijuarn. Perhaps that was why Raquel hadn’t been too interested in helping him. She might have already thought another of her kind had taken him under their guidance.

  Jaden approached the temple doors slowly, his eyes set firmly on the markings to either side.

  ‘What are you doing?’ asked Tarsha.

  Jaden did not respond. He scanned over the walls where two silver plates existed on either side, and then brought his wrist up to his chest.

  ‘These symbols match,’ he said.

  ‘What? Show me,’ said Tarsha, getting up slowly and walking toward him.

  Jaden noticed that she had been hiding a wound on her left side, the blood seeping through her clothing at her ribs.

  ‘You’re hurt,’ he said.

  ‘Never mind that now,’ said Tarsha. She took hold of his wrist and began meticulously searching over the loh-korah before doing the same to the wall in front of them. ‘Well, it seems you are right. Your grandfather must have given you the key to this place.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Jaden.

  ‘Go on, try it,’ she said. ‘Put the loh-korah over the symbols and rest your hand in the groove above.’

  Uncertainly, Jaden turned his wrist around and did as Tarsha had said. Nothing happened at first, but moments later the symbols connected together as if by a magnet and his arm became held tightly against the plate. He tried to pull away, but the force was too strong.

  ‘Don’t fight it,’ Tarsha comforted. ‘This is Daijuarn, it will not harm you.’

  Jaden glanced at her, wanting to say something, but was distracted by an unlocking sound.

  ‘There we are!’ said Tarsha triumphantly, and she walked to the doors and tried to push them open. They didn’t budge, so she began to try to pull them apart instead. ‘You must not have done it right,’ she said, having no success. ‘Try again.’

  Jaden did as she wished, and again he found himself held to the wall before the same unlocking sound came. Tarsha attempted to open the doors, but still there was no change. The doors remained shut.

 
‘Show me,’ she said in frustration, checking over his wrist. ‘The symbols match, it should work!’ She placed his wrist against the plate, but was still unsuccessful. ‘Try this side,’ she said, moving over to the left.

  ‘The symbols don’t match,’ Jaden protested. ‘Do we need another?’

  ‘No,’ said Tarsha. ‘At least, I do not think so. Come, try.’

  No sound came from Jaden placing the loh-korah against the silver plate on the left, nor did it hold his arm in place.

  ‘It’s no use,’ he said, ‘it won’t work.’

  ‘Give me another look.’ Tarsha examined every detail there was on the wristlet. ‘What is this dent?’ she asked after a moment, pointing to the centre of the loh-korah.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Jaden, now seeing the same discrepancy. ‘I think I fell on something.’

  ‘A fall would not have the force needed to make a dent like this. It looks like a bullet mark.’ Her eyes flicked up to his. ‘Were you shot?’

  ‘No,’ said Jaden, ‘I don’t think so.’ He thought back to the attack. ‘Something hit me, I think, and then I fell. It might have happened then.’

  ‘I see,’ said Tarsha, her attention back on the wall. ‘Well, it may be enough to prevent us from getting in. In fact, I think we can say for sure we will not be entering today.’ She sighed, glancing quickly over the temple, as if losing all hope in an instant. ‘One day I will learn their secrets,’ she marvelled, ‘even if it takes me another fifty years.’