Lennix then came up to them, putting a hand on Calla’s shoulder as he pulled her away slowly. “We should be going,” he said. Calla said nothing to him, as her eyes did not leave Theophilus.
Theophilus reached out, placing a firm hand on Lennix’s shoulder. The flower grimaced at the force. Theophilus noticed scratches on his face, wondering if he had caused more harm than he previously thought in his escape. “You keep her safe, Lennix. I didn’t come all this way to see her return botched now,” he said.
Lennix pulled the little weed’s hand from him. “She is safer now than she was with you and your mongrel,” he spat before signaling his men. Two remained standing while the rest gathered to him. “May we never see you again, Theophilus Thistle,” he added.
“To be free of your face would be a blessing,” said Theophilus as he winked at Calla. “Goodbye for now, Calla,” he added.
“I’ll see you around, Theophilus,” said Calla as she was escorted away from him.
Theophilus watched her go for a time, sad that the darkness was stealing away the sight of her. The low whimpers of Renard reminded him of more pressing matters. Theophilus turned then, placing his focus on the injured fox. Renard was licking around his injury and none too happy about the experience.
Theophilus placed his hands on the fox, stroking at his fur. “Easy, my friend. We will get your fixed up in no time,” he said. Renard tensed, but slowly lowered his head, resting as the little weed set to work.
Theophilus quickly set his energy upon Renard, grateful that his new friend trusted him. The little weed took great care in removing the spear and cleaning the wound. Renard whimpered through it in protest but did as he was told. It did not take long for Theophilus to finish his work, annoyed as he was at the two flower guards left to watch him. Yet as he focused on his task, a nagging thought refused to leave.
For some reason, Theophilus could not get Lennix out of his head.
The little weed kept replaying thoughts in his mind. The flower had been heavily focused on stopping him by what appeared to be any means necessary. And to compound this, he had only stopped when Calla was revealed to be safe and sound. At first, Theophilus thought it was a longstanding grudge and hatred to weeds, but more and more their exchanges began to feel personal. Some of the conduct showed by Lennix was indeed harsh, even extreme. Theophilus started to wonder if it was the work of a desperate flower.
And then suddenly, it hit him harder than his recent fall.
Theophilus remembered his conversation with Calla about her abduction. She had torn at her attacker, injuring him. When Theophilus escaped from Lennix and his men, the little weed had left the flower unscathed. And then Lennix had winced when Theophilus had grabbed him. The scrapes that Lennix held were not from a fall. They were made by someone else fighting or defending themselves from him. Suddenly an image of his fellow fallen weeds filled his mind too.
Lennix was the traitor and he had Calla.
The notion froze Theophilus further. Realizing he had stiffened up and was under watchful eyes, he continued his work on Renard. If these flowers were with Lennix, then Calla wasn't the only one in danger. Theophilus had to break away soon and get to his friend. If he was right, then Calla was a danger to Lennix's secret. And if that were the case, he was not taking her back to Alethia. Theophilus had to figure out his next move.
Renard then looked in the direction of the flowers and growled.
It was all the confirmation that Theophilus needed. At Renard's growl, the little weed heard swords being softly unsheathed. Like Calla, Theophilus was a loose end. These flowers were with Lennix and they meant him and Renard harm. Despite his pain, Theophilus again pushed it down by filling his thoughts with his friends. It was all the strength he needed.
Drawing some of his thorns, Theophilus turned slightly, throwing them over his shoulder. His aim was true as four of his thorns met their mark. The approaching flower howled in pain as the other advanced more swiftly. Theophilus drew his thorn daggers, raising them up to block a strike meant to send him to the Dream. Successful, Theophilus kicked the attacking flower in the gut before attacking the first again.
Leaping at the first flower while he was recovering, Theophilus hurdled himself over the flower. Digging his blades into the armored chest plate, Theophilus landed while using his momentum to propel his enemy over his shoulder and sharply into the ground. With his own injuries, the move hurt fiercely, and the little weed stumbled. The second flower saw his opportunity and rushed forward.
The second flower drove his shoulder into Theophilus, sending the little weed onto the ground and dropping his blades. Before Theophilus could recover, he raised his sword again, meaning to bring it down on his enemy. Theophilus twisted out of the way just in time before rolling into the side of the blade and pulling it from the flower's hands. The flower then jumped upon Theophilus meaning to throttle him with his bare hands.
"I owe you one, you insufferable weed," spat the flower through clenched teeth. Theophilus fought with the hands now clasping his throat.
It was then that angry jaws wrapped around the flower, ripping him off Theophilus and shaking him fiercely before tossing him off into the distance. The flower crashed on the ground and did not move. Theophilus looked up at Renard, who suddenly appeared weak. The fox, stumbled before falling and whimpering.
"Renard!" Theophilus found his feet and rushed to his friend. Looking more closely around the wound, he could see vivid discoloration slowly growing around it. He fumbled through the pouch on his belt, looking for the items he needed. "Blast it all, they've poisoned you," he breathed.
Conjuring some leaves, pollen, and petals from his pouch, Theophilus worked feverishly, blending them together into an antidote, hoping the dose was enough for Renard. Satisfied with his hasty work, the little weed put the concoction into the fox's mouth. He then stroked the fur of his friend as Renard lulled off into a dreary sleep. Hugging the fox fiercely, Theophilus then rushed to bind the two flowers before gathering his blades once more. He then ran into the darkness and into the wake of Lennix, praying he could find him in time to save Calla once more.
Fuming, Calla walked with Lennix and the rest of his squad. Near exhaustion, she used her anger to focus on the back of Lennix’s head, following him in silence and pondering the things she wished to tell him. The fury helped keep her moving, yet she realized later than she would have liked that they were not heading directly back to Alethia.
After more moments of silence, Calla could take the error no longer. "I never pegged you for a man of deep thought, Lennix, but surely even you can remember the way home," she said.
Lennix nodded without looking back at her. "Indeed. We are not taking regular routes with all the trouble as of late. One can never be too careful," he responded.
"Whatever you say," countered Calla. "I still think you are too proud to admit you got a little lost."
Lennix grunted but said nothing in reply. Stopping then, he motioned to his group. "Scout on ahead and return to Alethia. We will not be far behind," he instructed. He waited as the members of his group complied to his orders and vanished into the waning night.
As the other flowers departed, Calla looked about curiously. She realized quickly that they were only steps away from where she had been abducted. Straining her eyes, she could still see the remnants of the picnic Theophilus had put together for them. Something about the situation made her uneasy. Lennix was waiting patiently in silence, looking in the direction that the other flowers had just departed. At last, when enough time had passed, he turned to Calla and offered a smile. She found no comfort in it.
Calla balled her fists and placed them on her hips. "Lennix, if this is your attempt at a romantic interlude, you have missed the mark by centuries," she said.
The smile on the face of Lennix deepened, yet somehow grew colder. "That would have been nice. And I will not lie, there was a time where I pined for you deeply, Calla. But I am beyond such childish longings now.
I saw a bigger canvas and was enlightened. And because of this I have moved on. A notion made easier when you tarnished yourself by associating with a weed," he said, nearly spitting on the last word.
Calla could feel her anger rising. "People like you make such choices easy. That weed has more heart than a thousand of you," she countered.
Lennix shook his head as he motioned to the clearing and battered picnic sight. "It is exactly why I brought you here. For me, your descent into madness truly started at this picnic. It is only fitting that it ends here," he said.
Calla took a step back from those words and his gaze. She looked at Lennix up and down, saw his healing wounds. And as she looked at her own hands she instantly knew the truth. "It's you. You're the traitor. You're the one responsible for it all," she breathed.
"Correct," nodded Lennix. "I refuse to be a victim anymore or to sit around and wait for my time. I choose to take what I want now. It is a shame you didn't just go peacefully. I'd much rather not end you myself, but we do what we must," he said.
"Theophilus was right about you all along," she countered.
At this Lennix laughed at length. "That little fool? It hardly matters now. All his efforts were for naught. By now my men have taken care of that pest once and for all. And once I take care of you there is no one to stop me. Alethia and Bunda-Bas will soon be at war and I will be on the outside of it all, reaping the benefits of chaos," he said.
Calla looked about quickly, hoping to discern a proper escape. "You are a monster," she whispered.
Her words gave Lennix pause, as if hearing them was the craziest thing he had ever heard. "Am I? Am I, Calla? Perhaps I am the only one with any sense. One way or the other darkness is going to wash over this land. The question is, where will you be when it does," he said before drawing a sword. The blade was clearly of Bunda-Bas origin. "When the people of Alethia find your body felled with this blade, the fires will be stoked completely. But I hope you know I take little pleasure in this. It is simply what must be done."
Calla's eyes softened with tears as she shook her head. "I always thought you selfish, Lennix, but never would I have believed you would come to this. You truly have fallen to darkness," she said.
Lennix shrugged, still smiling. "And I am truly happier because of it," he said before raising his sword. "It's time to end this now, Calla," he added before advancing upon her.
Calla turned from Lennix then and ran. The pink lotus was swift on her feet, but she knew that the snapdragon was quick, and she was still hurt. She made it as far as the clearing and the shambles of a ruined picnic when she felt him upon her. Calla jumped forward, hearing the sound of a blade slice through the air where she had just been. Landing on the ground, she rolled and tried to reclaim her feet. Lennix kicked at her, sending her back to the ground harshly as he stood over her in triumph.
"You have fallen far from grace, Lennix," breathed Calla as she looked up at her attacker.
Lennix shook his head, still satisfied at the situation. "Not me, Calla. This blade shall be proof of Bunda-Bas treachery. Your name shall be a rallying cry for justice and war," he beamed.
"Even you are not dull enough to think you can fool Nibiru," countered Calla.
Lennix shook his head. "By the time that the world tree wakes to see the truth, it will all be too late. Nibiru's time is coming to an end. But first, it is your time," he said, raising the sword slowly over his head.
Calla turned her head and closed her eyes.
"No!"
The noise distracted Lennix, giving him pause. He was then struck in his side by the full force of Theophilus. The weed and plant toppled to the ground and rolled, before Lennix cast Theophilus off him. Coming to his feet, enraged, he set his sights on the little weed, whose injuries were making it difficult for him to rise.
Lennix offered no words, for the anger robbed him of all logic. Theophilus had barely enough time to draw his blades, wishing he had brought his wand. The little weed deflected a fierce blow from Lennix while evading the next two. Yet each block and evasion drained him further. Lennix was fresh and rested, bringing his full strength to bear upon his injured opponent.
Theophilus was clearly waning, yet he fought on with everything he still held. He dodged or parried every assault against him, with each defense more desperate than the last. Unable to muster up a counterstrike, the little weed was confined to protecting himself. Lennix continued his attacks, adding more fury with each new blow. Soon, Theophilus lost one of his blades and then another as he fell back on one knee, completely spent. Lennix grinned and raised his blade, preparing for the killing strike.
As the sword went above Lennix’s head, Theophilus tossed some of his thorns at his enemy before dashing forward. He caught Lennix’s hands, struggling with him for control of the sword as the flower bellowed his pain and anger. The two struggled fiercely for long moments, but the size and condition of Lennix proved the deciding factor as the flower threw Theophilus to the ground. Smiling hungrily, Lennix prepared again to finish the little weed.
Again, he was thwarted from such a felling stroke. This time Calla leaped upon his back as she wrestled the larger flower. Theophilus tried to reclaim his footing as Lennix roared. Grabbing Calla with his right arm, Lennix bent forward, flipping Calla over onto her back and at his feet before drawing his sword to end her. The stroke was swift and merciless.
A cry of pain filled the clearing, yet it was not Calla’s voice. Theophilus had leaped forward at the last moment, holding his forearms together he had met the blade unarmed as it tore into his right arm. His momentum kept him going forward as he collided fully into Lennix, driving the flower down before crashing on the ground clear of him.
Theophilus willed himself again to move, yet the pain was overwhelming. His right arm was limp below the elbow. Theophilus was soon warmed by the green blood escaping him as he held his arm to his body. Lennix’s sword laid between the plant and weed as Lennix set his intense gaze upon the injured weed. The two looked at one another and the sword that rested between them.
Lennix snarled as he lunged forward, hands outstretched. Theophilus rushed to meet him, but at the last moment he slid headlong, sending his legs into the plant. Lennix was knocked off his feet as he fell forward. Theophilus coasted upon the ground taking the blade in his good hand. Getting back up, Lennix turned and rushed Theophilus. The little weed rolled once, coming to his knees before slicing at Lennix’s abdomen. The plant cried out and held to his stomach, for the armor did not absorb all the attack.
Channeling what was left of his strength, Theophilus held up the blade with his left hand, aiming it at Lennix. “It’s over, Lennix,” he whispered. “You can walk away, or I can cast you to the Dream. I’d much like to end you for what you have done, but for Calla, I must be above the darkness that has claimed you,” he said.
Laughing in pain, Lennix fought the desire to continue the fight. At last he backed away slowly. “You think this changes anything, weed? Do you believe you have made a difference at all? You have only delayed what is to come! Mark my word, you will suffer for what you have done. You will see!”
Theophilus shook his head. “All that I see is a lost flower, blinded by the promises of fortune and power. You have only brought shame upon yourself on this night. Now begone before I change my mind,” he said.
Lennix again fought the urge to attack, yet the pain in his stomach held him in check. He turned instead, walking slowly away from the clearing. “We will meet again, Theophilus Thistle. And when we do, only one of us shall remain,” he offered before disappearing into the night.
Theophilus watched him go, refusing to lower the sword, unsure if it were merely a ploy by the retreating plant. After several moments, he was satisfied that Lennix was gone. Lowering the blade, the little weed felt the entire length of the pain and exhaustion that was upon him. Limping, he made his way slowly and painfully to Calla.
Kneeling, Theophilus was pleased to see that she was okay, just uncons
cious. She too had endured much. Theophilus was so close now to fulfilling his promise, hoping that his little body would hold out for a little while longer. He smiled gratefully, happy that Calla was alright. It was enough of a feeling to help quell the pain that wrenched his entire being.
It was then that a wave of exhaustion rushed over him as Theophilus fell to his knees. The sword fell from his hand as the little weed fought to stay awake. But now his body was refusing him, having been pushed further than it could take. Theophilus fell over then, resting his head upon Calla as his vision blurred completely.
“I’m sorry, Calla,” he whispered painfully. “I’ve nothing left.”
It was then that Theophilus closed his eyes as unconsciousness robbed him of his pain and cares.
Chapter Eleven
Awakening
"If this is the Dream, then the Dream is good," said Theophilus contentedly.
Firestar light was all he could feel; the warmth washed over him and invigorated his spirit. The tranquility that enveloped him was sweet, welcomed bliss. A gentle caress like a breeze touched his face and he smiled. There was no pain then, only the serenity offered by the light.
For a moment, the little weed didn't know if his eyes were open or closed and he was reluctant to discover the truth. Theophilus had not felt such contentment in ages. His body no longer felt broken. In fact, he felt it not at all. Instead he focused on the warmth and let it take him away from all his cares.
"It's not the Dream, silly. Now open those eyes."
At the sound of Calla's voice, Theophilus was immediately pulled back to reality. Thrusting his eyes open, he looked up to see breathtaking beauty. It was like seeing her again for the first time. Her smile melted his heart and warmed him even more so than the Firestar. She was safe, and she was smiling at him. Theophilus couldn't think of a happier moment in his life.
The Adventures of Theophilus Thistle Page 11