by G Sauvé
He’s infected. His frame is a mess of crimson veins, and a dried, cracked bed of blood and bile cakes his chin and neck. The humanoid’s life is almost over, yet he has seen it fit to use what little remains of it to warn us not to drink.
“Who are you?” asks Jonn as he approaches the infected man, his knife at the ready.
The arkane laughs, no doubt amused by Jonn’s unwarranted cautiousness.
“I mean you no harm,” he says. “If I had, I would have let you drink.”
“Why?” growls Jonn.
“Please forgive my father,” says Kara. “He means well, but his temper sometimes gets the better of him.”
Jonn growls but lowers his knife.
“He was only trying to protect you,” says the arkane. “I can respect that.”
That’s enough to persuade Jonn to sheathe his weapon.
“Why don’t you want us to drink?” asks Kara. “Is there something wrong with the water?”
The infected humanoid laughs again, but the laughter soon degenerates into a racking cough that lures fresh blood to his lips. He spits a blob of red, viscous liquid, then smiles.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” he asks but doesn’t wait for an answer. “I have lived here my entire life. And this is where I will die.”
He coughs up another mouthful of blood and spits it out.
“The river is cursed. Whoever drinks from it dies a horrible, painful death.”
“Are you saying the river was poisoned?” asks Kara.
“Poisoned. Cursed. There’s little difference.”
There’s a moment of silence before I decide to join the conversation.
“What happened here?” I ask. “Where are all the citizens of Arkania?”
The man looks at me and smiles sadly.
“They’re dead.”
Another heavy silence settles upon us. It remains intact until the dying arkane decides to tell us a story.
“It began almost a year ago to the day,” he explains. “Folks started getting sick, dying from a mysterious disease that burned their bodies from the inside. Within days, dozens had died. By the end of the first week, that number had grown to nearly a hundred. After a few months, thousands had perished. Many fled. Some remained. By the time it was discovered the river was the source of the disease, nearly all who had chosen to stay were doomed. Only a few of us survived. The others died horrible deaths.”
The arkane falls silent for a moment, no doubt reminiscing about all the horrific sights he has beheld.
“Only King Kanto and his personal guard were unaffected. The royal family and those in its employment drank from the king’s personal well, which was untainted by the disease that wiped us out. In the beginning, folks begged Kanto for aid, but the selfish king barricaded himself in his castle, killing all who dared approach it. Many believed him to be responsible for the plague, but it was never proven. In the end, it mattered little. All who stayed perished. Now only I remain.”
The arkane falls silent once more. I wait for him to start speaking again, but such hopes fade when I notice his chest has stopped moving. His eyes are still open, but his stare is blank.
He’s dead.
I should probably feel sorry for the poor arkane, but I’m glad his suffering is over. At least his passing was gentle, unlike most of the plague victims I have encountered thus far.
“I guess that proves it,” mutters Jonn. “We found the source of the plague.”
Kara shoots him an angry look, but Jonn ignores it.
“Given what Arko told us—Arkania… king… Avalon—and what our friend here revealed about King Kanto, I think it’s obvious what happened. Avalon killed the real king and took his place. She then used her new position of power to poison the water supply and ensure no help would be given to the plague victims.”
I don’t usually agree with Jonn, but I must admit his theory makes sense.
“There’s no proof Avalon is pretending to be King Kanto,” argues Kara. “She may simply have infiltrated his court and used her devious ways to trick him into doing her bidding.”
“Either way,” says Jonn, “we must find a way into that castle.”
Even Kara can’t find a flaw in that statement. There’s still much we don’t know, yet we now have the semblance of a plan. Korri returns soon after and reveals he failed to locate any survivors. I’m not surprised. I tell him what happened, and he agrees the best course of action is to investigate the palace.
“So,” I ask once everyone has been brought up to speed, “what’s the plan?”
“Simple,” says Jonn. “We sneak into the castle and take down Avalon before she can do any more damage. Hopefully, there’s a cure. If not, we’ll just have to hope the past hasn’t been irreversibly altered.”
“We can’t sneak into the palace,” says Korri as soon as I tell him what Jonn said.
“Why not?” asks the soldier once I’ve translated the korrigan’s words.
“It’s guarded,” explains Korri. “Even I can’t get in.”
That’s bad. If Korri can’t sneak into Arkania’s royal halls using his super speed, what hope do the rest of us have? Unless…
“I can get us in,” I announce.
My friends look at me like I’m insane. I can’t blame them, though I’m somewhat hurt by Kara’s lack of faith. Then again, it’s not like I have a great track record when it comes to saving the day.
“How?” asks Jonn.
I hesitate, but it’s too late to back down now.
“I can shift,” I announce. “If I take the appearance of one of the palace guards, we should have no trouble sneaking in. In fact, we can walk right through the front door.”
Jonn seems impressed, but unconvinced.
“You can’t shift,” he says.
He’s right. Sort of.
I can’t shift, but I know someone who can teach me. Once he returns to complete my training, I should have no trouble helping my friends sneak into the castle.
“If Will says he can do it, that’s enough for me,” says Kara.
Jonn doesn’t seem pleased, but since my insane plan is the only one we have, he has no choice but to agree. It’s not until we’ve all approved of the strategy that I realize something.
I have no way of contacting my mentor. I suddenly regret coming up with such a ridiculous plan. Unfortunately, it’s too late for me to back down. All I can do now is wait and hope my enigmatic teacher shows up to save the day.
Memory 50
W hat the hell was I thinking?” I mutter to myself as I amble down the deserted street. I knew I made a mistake the moment Jonn agreed to my insane plan, but by then it was too late. I couldn’t back down without looking like a coward, so I pretended as though I had mastered the art of shifting. I managed to convince my companions I needed time to prepare, so we all agreed to spend the rest of the day perfecting our plan. By nightfall, we had come up with a strategy we were—for the most part—confident would succeed.
The plan was simple. Step one: We would wait until morning and take advantage of the shift change to isolate one of the palace guards and knock him out. Step two: I would take the guard’s appearance and use the borrowed form to trick the other sentries into believing I was one of them. Step three: I would pretend to have captured Jonn and Kara trying to sneak into the palace and request an audience with King Kanto—AKA Avalon. Step four: Honestly, I’m not entirely sure what Jonn plans on doing with Avalon once we find her, but I can tell she won’t enjoy it. It’s a good plan except for one small detail.
I can’t shift.
I waited all night long, hoping my mentor would come and teach me the art of shifting, but he never showed up. By morning, I was both exhausted and terrified. For the first time in my life, I was in a position to help a lot of people, yet I was unable to do so because I couldn’t control my mysterious shifting abilities. I guess Jonn was right. I am useless.
I’m debating whether or not I should return
to our improvised campsite and come clean when someone grabs me from behind. I try to scream, but a hand clamps down on my lips, silencing me. I struggle to break free, but my attacker is both strong and surprisingly skilled. My arm is twisted in such a manner I have no choice but to respond to my assaulter’s every whim.
My captor steers me toward the nearest abandoned dwelling. We come to a halt before the residence’s main door.
“Open it,” growls a familiar voice. I do as I’m told and soon find myself stumbling forward into the dark, dusty bowels of the house. I hesitate for a moment before turning around. The door is now closed, so it takes my eyes a moment to adjust. When they finally do, a broad smile appears on my lips.
Standing before me, less than a metre away, is the very man I’ve been so desperate to find.
The hooded stranger.
Memory 51
T hank god you’re here,” I say. “I need to learn how to shift.”
“I know,” says the cloaked figure.
I’m relieved, but also a little annoyed.
“What took you so long? I waited all night for you.”
“Crossing the Plain of Pain is difficult,” explains the hooded man. “The trip took longer than anticipated.”
I’m once again reminded of how lucky my companions and I are to have Korri as our guide. Perhaps I have taken his friendship for granted. I promise myself never to do it again, but for the time being, I have more pressing matters to attend to.
“Can we begin?” I ask. “I’m kind of in a hurry.”
The man nods. At least I think he nods, but it’s hard to tell because of his hood. I wonder why he wears it. Perhaps he was horribly burned or suffers from a hideous deformity. There are many possibilities, but none of them matter at the moment.
“Are you ready?” asks my mentor.
I nod.
“Let it happen.”
“E-excuse me?”
“That’s the secret to shifting. You must touch the person you wish to become, picture yourself becoming them and let it happen.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
I can’t believe it. Had known it was that simple, I would have done it long ago. I feel stupid for not figuring it out on my own, but at the same time, I’m relieved. Now that I know how to shift, I can finally help my friends take down Avalon. And, once that happens, I will finally get to go home.
“Thank you,” I say. I have no idea who this hooded stranger is, but I’m grateful for all he has done for me. Without him, I would still be terrified at the thought of touching another humanoid. Now, I can’t wait to do just that.
“You’re welcome. But there’s much you have yet to learn about your abilities.”
“I can’t wait,” I say, “but I’ll have to.”
The sun is about to rise, which means the guards will soon change shifts. I can’t afford to be late.
“I understand,” says my mentor. “I shall return to help you master your full potential.”
“When?” I ask, but the man is already gone. One second he’s standing there, less than a metre away, and the next he’s gone. I would probably be a little freaked out if not for the fact that I’m in such a hurry.
“I hope I’m not too late,” I mutter as I hurry out of the abandoned dwelling.
I sprint all the way back to the campsite, but my friends are already gone. For a brief moment, I fear they abandoned me, but then I notice the brightness of my surroundings and their absence makes sense.
It’s morning.
“Dammit!” I mutter as I run off again.
I work my muscles like they’re never been worked before. I fly past intersection after intersection until I finally reach the bridge. Arkane guards walk the width of the stone structure, guarding the castle it leads to. I scan my surroundings, but there’s no sign of my friends. I’m about to call out to them when a powerful pair of hands grabs me and pulls me behind a nearby building.
“You’re late, Won’t,” growls Jonn as he unhands me. Kara and Korri are also present. Kara looks relieved to see me. Korri is beaming, though I’m not entirely sure why.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter, “but we can still pull it off if—”
“The guards already changed shifts,” interrupts Jonn.
I remain frozen for a moment before a sinking feeling grabs hold of me.
“I’m too late?” I ask, stunned. We could postpone our infiltration until tomorrow, but how many innocents will die because of it?
“Ye—” begins Jonn, but Kara cuts him off with a deadly stare.
“Why must you always be so mean?” she demands.
“What?” asks Jonn, feigning innocence. “He was late. I was just trying to—”
“You were trying to make him feel bad,” interrupts Kara.
They go back and forth like this for a while before I finally intervene.
“Could someone please tell me what’s going on?” I ask. From the way Jonn and Kara are arguing, I can tell things aren’t as bad as they seem, though, for the life of me, I can’t figure out how that could be.
I expect Kara to be the one to explain things, but it’s Jonn who answers my question.
“When you failed to show up in time, we decided to proceed without you.”
“I don’t understand,” I admit. “How could you—”
“Korri took your place,” explains Kara. “He acted very bravely. In fact, we never would have succeeded without him.”
Jonn snorts, which I take to mean he doesn’t believe the korrigan was responsible for the success of the operation. Of course, that only proves he was. I now understand why Korri’s smiling.
“Are you saying…” I begin, but my voice trails off when Jonn steps aside, and I notice the unconscious arkane guard lying on the ground behind him.
I can’t believe it. They did it. They managed to kidnap one of the guards. I’m tempted to inquire as to how exactly they pulled this off, but I know every second spent talking is a second wasted.
“I think it’s time you show us how skilled you are at shifting,” says Jonn, his voice laced with sarcasm. I can’t blame him. My mentor may have claimed shifting is easy, but the truth is I have yet to try it. For all I know, he lied.
“You can do it,” says Kara.
I give her a grateful smile before focusing on the unconscious arkane. I approach him and crouch by his side. I place a hand on his arm, close my eyes, and take a few deep breaths. By the third one, I’m calm enough to give shifting a try. I focus on the image of the arkane and picture myself becoming him. I know it works when I hear all three of my companions gasp.
I open my eyes. One look at my friends is enough to convince me I’m no longer the Will I once was. My grimy white t-shirt and matching pants have been replaced by a surprisingly comfortable leather armour. My arms and legs are long and thin. My skin is white as snow, but soon turns a bright shade of yellow when I realize how cool this is. With a little practice I should be able to control it, but if our plan is to succeed, we must get moving before the other guards notice the arkane whose appearance I stole is missing.
Shifting was easy. Reaching Avalon will be much, much more difficult.
Memory 52
O ne wrong word. One wrong move. That’s all it will take for our entire plan to come crashing down around us. Not to mention the hundreds of lives that are at stake. That thought alone is enough to put an end to my progression.
“What are you doing?” growls Jonn. “Why did you stop?”
I glance at the grey-haired soldier. His wrists appear to be bound, yet one quick tug is all it will take to free him. Though I can’t see it, I know his knife lies in wait.
Kara is similarly bound. Unlike her father, she possesses no weapon.
“Don’t worry,” she says. “Just do as we discussed, and everything will be just fine.”
“Shut up,” whispers Jonn. “They’re coming.”
I look up and, sure enough, two arkane guards
are heading our way. Both are as tall as me—if not taller—and each has the same basic equipment. A formfitting, yet surprisingly resistant leather armour, Roman-style sandals, and a long, razor-sharp spear. Unlike me, they carry the weapon with assurance, which tells me it’s in my best interest to avoid confrontation.
“What are you doing here?” asks one of the guards. “I thought your shift was over.”
There’s a moment of silence as I try to remember the excuse my friends and I came up with to explain my presence. Unfortunately, I’m far too nervous to recall my lines, let alone deliver them in a believable manner. I thus do the only thing that seems appropriate given the circumstances.
I improvise.
“I had to pee.”
I can sense Jonn and Kara cringing, but I ignore them and focus on keeping a straight face.
“Why didn’t you go at the palace?” asks the guard.
Dammit! I should have known that wouldn’t work. Unfortunately, it’s too late to come up with another excuse. I’ll just have to keep going and hope I can talk my way out of this rather sticky situation.
“I really had to pee,” I say, though I regret it as soon as the words escape me. My face turns a bright shade of red. As does the rest of my body. I’m not entirely sure why this happens—in this era, red is associated with anger or rage, not embarrassment—but I’m glad it does.
“There’s no need to get angry,” says the guard. “I was just making small talk.”
The second guard starts laughing. His skin turns a soft, yellow hue as his shoulders jump up and down. I’m not sure why he’s laughing, but I join in. Luckily, that tricks my body into thinking I’m happy and my dermis also turns the colour of banana cream pie. It takes a while, but the other arkane finally joins in, and soon all three of us are laughing.
I glance questioningly at Jonn and Kara, but all I get in response are a couple of shrugs. I guess they are as oblivious to arkane humour as I am.
We keep laughing for a while before one of the guards notices my fake prisoners.