by R. K. Gold
Yael gasped. One eye was now white and the other red. So, it was true. They weren’t omens or luck. They were the eyes of those who had seen a god. The thick grey clouds bobbed up and down like waves on the shore, rising and falling a little less each time until they were gone.
Yael’s hair whipped around, and Pace’s baggy suit flapped. He struggled to keep his footing while Armstrong walked away from the split tree. Its branches snapped, and its trunk split in two. Half-collapsed to the ground, and a cloud of dandelion seedlings burst through the air in every direction. Though as they floated, they sprouted wings and fluttered around the clearing as butterflies.
"This feels—this feels—" Armstrong opened and closed his hands. He looked back at the immortal, who rubbed his head as he rose to his feet. Miya hopped up, still holding his rifle. The ground turned a pale green, but the shards of starlight still stuck out like rows of canine teeth.
A clash of thunder burst overhead, and once again, the roots beneath the earth illuminated. Miya swung the rifle at Armstrong, smacking him square in the back, but he didn’t flinch. He merely picked up a single fragment of light. The air buzzed when he held it. The light flickered in his hand, and Yael could hear him breathing as if he stood just beside her.
He turned to the tree and held the starlight straight ahead. The second half dissolved into the ground, and in its place, a pond emerged. Its waters rippled, and the light rode the waves until they bounced off the edge and floated away. The glow in his hand broke through his fingers and fell to the ground like dry dirt. Where it fell pulsed bright green, and the black roots beneath the surface glowed once more.
Armstrong turned to Miya. “I’ve been chasing you for years, and you always seemed to get away. I wonder, do you still think you can outrun me?”
“You won’t lay a hand on her." Izkobak pointed Armstrong's saber back at him. Its hilt was plain gray, and its blade reflected the lights from the pond off it. "What have you done?"
“Winning the war,” Armstrong replied. He went to pick up another shard of starlight, but Izkobak slapped the back of his hand with the flat side of the blade. The ground trembled, and it began to rain.
“You’re disrupting the Mother,” the immortal said. Yael looked to the vibrant shards of light sticking out of the ground. The earth sizzled around them as they sank deeper into the dirt. “She will make the necessary changes without you.”
“You still think you can stop me?” He motioned for another fragment. Yael’s father matched his stride. Miya swiped the rifle at his feet, and he hopped over it. “Emerlia is marching on the north right now. Thousands will die if we do not stop them.”
“And how do you propose you stop them?”
“I want their country to burn like they burned my home. Our home.” He added the last part and looked back to Pace. “And when I hold this light, it’s like I can feel as far as the roots in the ground stretch. Like the entire continent is an open palm that I can close.”
“You want to kill an entire country. You want to become the monster you’re trying to rid the world of. This is why the Mother’s forest isn’t meant for your kind—”
"Our kind. You may be older, and you may believe yourself to be wiser, but the moment the star touched the ground, you and I became the same kind.”
“The Mother will change the world as she sees fit. It’s how she’s always returned, and you won’t take on the responsibilities of a god for mortal revenge.”
"It's not revenge. It's justice. King Benny—Izor—the monarchs of our continent haven't allowed a single country to live free. We are constantly in their shadow, unable to see the Mother's light. This is her forest. It should be celebrated, not feared, but the entire country is scared to come here. Haunted by the memories of a massacre, Emerlia committed. Now, eight years later, Emerlia believes we belong in its shadow again." Armstrong shook his head and once again moved for the starlight. Miya leaped on his back and wrapped an arm around his throat. She kicked her legs up and knotted them around his gut as she tightened her hold on his neck.
Armstrong swung her side to side. He rotated back and forth while scratching at the backs of her arms. He broke her grip and thrust his head up, catching her on the chin with the top of his skull. She stumbled back, holding her face, regathered herself, and lunged forward once more.
Armstrong sidestepped her, keeping his leg out to catch her foot. He yanked her by the back of her shirt collar and slammed her to the ground. “For years, you just kept running. I remember seeing you leave the forest as a boy. No one believed me. No one believed anyone could live in the forest. They said the immortal was just a myth, but I knew what I saw. Then when I was in Wydser, leaving an offering to the Mother, I saw you again. That hooked nose was a giveaway long before I ever saw your eyes." He pointed at Miya and stomped her chest. Then turned back to Izkobak, who raised the sword ready to strike. "You've been sitting in here for a thousand years, feeling sorry for yourself, instead of taking back the world you lost."
“I found the world in this place. I was never more lost than when I expanded my kingdom on land I never owned.”
“You abandoned the world! You say you wanted to protect the world and serve it, then you allow Emerlia to wipe out Doe, Wizendoff, and Lansing in your own backyard. You could’ve marched out alone and taken on the armies for us. Could’ve saved us from the suffering, but you didn’t. You’ve done nothing except protect a single tree.” Their heads turned to ashes of the Mother’s tree. “Awaiting her return. Claiming to be a god now. No, you didn’t give up on conquering the world because you lost your ambition. You just found a new one. What’s a kingdom to a god? But by staying here and pretending to be her son, you acted more like her lapdog.” Armstrong gave one more kick to the side of Miya’s body. She winced and held where the contact was made. Yael had never seen her come close to pain before. Even when Dean took a swing at her in the sanctuary, it fazed her less than a breeze.
Armstrong went to pick up a single shard of starlight once more, but Izkobak slashed the air before Yael could even blink. Armstrong yanked his hand back, and starlight dripped from his fingertip to the ground. It crawled like a slug to the nearest shard. “How soon you’ve forgotten that you aren’t the only man here to have touched a god. We live on the same plane now, and I can assure you of two things. I can make you bleed, and if you attempt to meddle with the Mother’s work again, you will find out how my sword united the great continent.”
Armstrong sucked the back of his hand. The effervescent glow spilled down his fingers and boiled on the ground. Where it landed, the earth brightened, and the grass turned a richer shade of gray. The roots rose from the dirt, and the light's remnants were absorbed by the nearest star.
“You shouldn’t have told me that.” He flipped his blade with a casual flick of the wrist. The knife spun around the back of his hand before he caught it with the blade sticking down by his pinky. He raised two fists. His right one had a sharp tail sticking out for slicing and slashing after a punch. “Because once I remove you, there will be nothing to stop me from taking down Emerlia and Dracar once and for all.”
“And that will bring back Lansing? That will bring back the ones you’ve lost?”
Armstrong’s nostrils flared. “It will punish them for it. You were there, and you did nothing!”
“It wasn’t my fight.” He sliced the air, coming inches from Armstrong’s face, but the colonel didn’t flinch as the blade passed by. He grinned and jabbed a step forward. Izkobak didn’t flinch, so Armstrong lunged. He punched the air, and the tail end of the blade sliced where Izkobak had stood only moments ago. Another flick of the wrist and the knife spun right side up. He stabbed again, aiming for the immortal's chest. Again, Izkobak dodged, this time twisting his body just in time before vertically slicing his own sword. He caught Armstrong’s wrist, and the blow caused him to drop his knife.
The immortal reached for the blade, but Armstrong kicked dirt in his face. It was enough to send Izk
obak back, covering his eyes, and Armstrong kicked up his long knife, managing to catch Izkobak in the shoulder. Light poured from the wound, and the immortal covered the puncture with his hand. Starlight slipped through his fingers to the earth, and the fragments of the Mother glowed even brighter.
The immortal winced. From the moment Yael met him, she never imagined him making a face like that. He stepped from a tree, and his skin looked like it was carved from wood and stone. "I don't suppose one immortal could kill another?" Armstrong charged again. This time Izkobak dodged his strike and landed one of his own. When Armstrong's arm extended, he managed to cut the back of his hand. Armstrong dropped the knife once more. When he tried to curl his hand around the hilt, the cut opened more, and starlight oozed out.
"Would you like to find out?" Izkobak kicked the knife away and raised his sword over his head. Armstrong crawled backward. He rolled when Izkobak slashed at his stomach, barely missing his side. He didn't beg. His eyes darted around for any weapon to help.
Izkobak kept pace with him. The tip of his saber aimed at Armstrong's gut. As he was about to stab, Armstrong stretched out for a rock. The air in the clearing crackled with electricity. The immortal winced. He covered his ears and backed away as Armstrong rose, holding a palm-sized fragment of starlight. It was brought around the edges with a sharp point poking out between his thumb and forefinger.
Miya limped towards the colonel. The tight lines of her closed mouth and eyes rose and fell like a polygraph test. For the first time, she didn’t look human. Her skin bubbled and flowed apart then back together between each step.
“The power of the Mother?” he asked and aimed the fragment at Miya. Roots punched through the ground and wrapped around her feet. Her skin turned a darker brown and flaked off. The dark lines on her face hardened and turned to wood. Her arms stretched out, and her fingers elongated to branches. Each breath was labored. She crouched to the ground, holding her chest. Her hair's coiled knots turned green with leaves.
“Miya!” Izkobak ran towards his daughter, but Armstrong swung the starlight around. Residue lingered in the air when he moved it like paint trailing a brush. The white dust stayed put. Armstrong slashed the air, and the world cracked open. The roots beneath the surface glowed black once more and broke through the ground. They pulled the earth apart, and land crumbled over the ledge.
Pace stumbled as the crevice extended towards them. Yael shoved him back as the lips in the soil parted, but her foot slipped inside. Miya struggled back to her feet. The roots in the ground held her ankles in place. She swiped her branchlike arm at Armstrong, but he was just out of reach. Half her face looked human, the other half was carved in wood. She looked like the Brother.
“Ohhh!” Yael groaned, pulling her ankle, but her toes were stuck. The ground trembled, and the trees rattled. Shadows flew across the white canvas sky.
“Yael!” Pace shouted. He wrapped both hands around her body and pulled, but she wouldn’t budge.
“Ow, ow, ow.” She slapped his shoulder then reached down her leg. “It won’t budge.” Pace tried moving her again but had no luck. She fell back on the ground and pulled from her knee. Miya’s tree rattled in the wind. Branches snapped off, and Yael’s father waded through the gusts with an arm covering his face to protect himself from the wind.
"Mr. Armstrong!" Pace started towards him, but the closer he got, the harder the wind pushed him back. His baggy suit flapped in the gusts. "Mr. Armstrong!" he shouted louder, but still, the colonel only had eyes for the immortal. He raised his starlight even as it bled through his fingers, and a loud crack vibrated through the clearing.
Yael covered her ears. Pace doubled over, clutching his stomach. Izkobak’s head poked out of a stone cell. A mound sealed his body in a tomb, pinning his arms to his side. Armstrong's saber laid on the upturned earth right in front of the immortal. His eyes darted to the blade back to Armstrong as the colonel slowly stepped towards his enemy. The star raised higher in the air, and the earth parted in his wake.
“Mr. Armstrong!” Pace shouted again and stumbled forward. He wavered to the side after every three steps, as if he had been spun around, blindfolded, then set free in the wild. “Mr. Armstrong, stop!”
Armstrong moved closer to the immortal. He slashed the air, and the stone mound crumbled. Izkobak fell to his knees. He was winded. Each breath looked winded, and his face had three deep gashes, each spilled white light to the ground.
“Gah!” Pace screamed. He fell in Armstrong’s wake. The earth opened beneath his feet then snapped shut around his ankle. He thrashed the air, trying to kick free but couldn’t budge. He reached around, finally grabbing on a tooth-shaped fragment. The earth shook once more, and the crevice around Yael’s foot loosened. She pulled it out and rolled away before it could shut again.
“Ahh!!!” he yelled. His skin turned a true white, not the warm beige it usually was but a luminescent snow, the kind one saw under full moons. A white so vivid, it poked holes in his suit until he looked like an archway to a star. His cries intensified to a piercing tone as the top half of his suit blew off. Yael limped towards the light, keeping her hands up as a visor. Even the slightest weight on her ankle, it felt like dozens of jaws snapped shut around the wound.
Pace dropped to his knees. His chest opened as wide as it could with his two arms stretched back. Yael reached for his hand, and as she touched him, his grip loosened, and the tooth-shaped shard dropped to the grass. It sizzled instantly as light flickered up like reverse snow. Pace fell back. His chest was red and black with blisters and burns spotted across his limbs. Ash smeared on his nose and cheeks, and his round mouthpiece melted inward, leaving sharp edges along its sides. The air tube itself bent at a right angle and was completely flat, but Pace himself was only burned. The Mother's star didn't kill him the same way it destroyed the things he made.
Yael put her hand to the two deep gashes across its neck as he panted. She could hear his labored breathing, and his eyes rolled back. Pollen fell around them, and Yael brushed it from his hair as he pushed his goggles up. His blue eyes were bloodshot.
Armstrong picked his saber up and aimed the tip at Izkobak's face. The star in his hand dissolved, leaving its residue on his palm. The wind died down as he rotated the saber like the second hand on a clock counting down Izkobak's time.
"Look what you did!" Yael shouted. He hurt his only family. How could anyone do that? The man who lost everything in Lansing. The man who took one of the only survivors from his village into his home now crushed him beneath the earth only a few miles from their lost homes. "You're losing him!"
The wind died down, but Armstrong still only had eyes for the immortal. Pace suffocated behind him. With all the time in the world, everything became the colonel’s past—and that everything now included Pace.
Yael started towards Armstrong, who still didn't sense her coming. Why would he? What could she do to an immortal? An immortal who could only bleed at the hands of the man who was now ultimately at his mercy.
“We could’ve reunited the world. Fulfilled the destiny you turned away from.” Armstrong pressed the tip of the blade to Izkobak’s chest, but the immortal didn’t make a noise.
He spat at the colonel’s feet. “Be a tyrant like the countries you wish to eradicate?”
“Be a leader and ensure the evils of Benny and Izor never rise again. I would never repeat the atrocities they performed.”
“No—never.” Izkobak shook his head. Starlight seeped from his nose. “You would politely eliminate two entire countries, but would never repeat the mistakes they made.”
“They forced my hand. They burned Lansing to the ground. They wanted us to surrender in our own ashes.”
Yael was only a few feet behind him.
“The more you try to end evil by force, the more you become it. You held the power of a god in your hand, and all you can think about is being a stronger mortal. Such a waste.” Izkobak closed his eyes, and Armstrong raised his sword.
&
nbsp; "Look what you did!" Yael shouted, and finally, Armstrong hesitated. He turned his head slightly, and Yael could see a single red eye. “Look at him!” She pointed back to Pace. Armstrong lowered his sword.
“Pace.” He turned to help the child, but Izkobak leaped to his feet with a single fragment in his hand. He tackled Armstrong to the ground and planted the tooth of the star in the dirt beside them. Roots sprouted from his fist, but the colonel sliced through with his sword and rolled to his feet. Once again, Pace was a ghost in his past as white light spiraled the two immortals like petals around a tornado.
24
Armstrong swiped the air, but Izkobak managed to duck under the blow. He bent over and scooped a handful of starlight. It rested on the ground like celestial dandruff. When he raked it, the light hovered in front of Armstrong. Each spot latched onto the colonel. At first, nothing happened. However, when he raised his sword to perform an overhead strike, Izkobak closed his hand into a fist and squeezed his eyes shut. The spots along Armstrong’s face brightened and popped. He hopped away, fanning himself off as Izkobak charged forward and tackled him to the ground. The two rolled around on top of one another. Each trying to yank the sword away. Pace gasped for air. His hands trembled as he held them over his face.
Yael felt a knotted rope yanking her in both directions. She had only just met her father, and it was too soon to say goodbye to him all over again, but Pace needed help. As they rolled, Yael spotted Armstrong’s breathing apparatus.
The two immortals struggled inches from it. The sword flailed around, but Yael bolted to the mask. As she scooped it, the saber caught her leg. "Ah!" She jumped and fell to her knees. When she reached around, she felt her pants cut open and a narrow slash.
Her fingers came back with a thin film of blood on their tips. Still, she scrambled forward, though each step felt like a dog chomping down on her calf.