by Jeff Gunzel
“Enough. I’ve seen enough. No more!” shrieked Athel, finally finding the strength to turn her gaze away. She dropped to the floor and covered her head, sobbing wildly. “It’s not true. I would never—”
“But you will,” moaned the old men. The light slowly faded from their eyes.
“I told you this was an exact prediction directly from the spirit world. This is your future,” said Wara.
“Wait. Please. There must be something I can do,” the words pushed through gasps of air. Her sobbing was now nearing hysteria. Athel slowly got back to her feet. “There must be a way to change this. Nothing could ever make me hurt him.”
All three members of the circle stood up at the same time. Their faces held no emotion, no judgment. The old woman stepped forward. “There should be no way to change this. The spirits have shown that your powers will directly affect your friend’s life, no matter what you do. Whether or not this can be changed is unclear to us. If changing it is your wish, then my advice is simple: Do the right thing: leave. ”
* * *
Kelus and Eric walked back the way they came. Everything was silent, save for the light breeze rustling the sparse leaves that still clung to the trees, echoing a soft buzzing through the air. Eric knew the assassins were moving along as well, matching them step for step. Admittedly, he couldn’t see or hear any of them, but could feel them somehow, through a slight energy given off by all living creatures, whether or not they were in sight.
Eric’s thoughts wandered as they moved along. He pondered the story Kelus had told, not sure what to make of it. Was this person real? Was he the one the ancient books spoke of? Maybe this burden was never mine after all, and it actually belongs to another. But if so, why did he sound so wicked? It seemed the other person was a vile creature born from the nightmares of only the darkest imaginations. By all accounts, the Gate Keeper was supposed be a savior to all mankind. Did the ancient ones have it wrong? Was this supposed savior nothing more than a supernatural tyrant, born only to unleash his suffering upon mankind? If he is the Gate Keeper, then who am—
“Follow me, my boy,” said Kelus, distracting Eric from his thoughts. “There is one more thing I still need to show you.” Kelus walked up ahead, the youthful spring in his step returning once more. Eric kept a slight distance between them, trailing behind as the village came back into view. The townsfolk stopped and stared as their beloved leader walked with this foreigner, this man surrounded by mystery.
Rumors ran rampant throughout the village. Some claimed Eric and his friends were brought here by the sea, and had been washed up by the gods themselves. Others had him figured for the infamous tyrant known for destroying entire villages at will. Although very few witnesses remained after these attacks, their stories were at least similar: mad rants of a man in white stepping through a shimmering golden opening in the air before killing everything in sight.
The presence of Kelus helped to turn outright hatred into hushed whispers as they moved through the village. Kelus led them between a tight row of homes and down a narrow, but well- swept alley. They exited out the backside, entering a flattened clearing where most of the trees had been removed. Off in the distance, Eric could see a sturdy barn surrounded by guards. Each one was standing still, with weapons in hand. Their green capes rolled gently in the cool breeze. Under their wicker helmets, sharp eyes darted back and forth, alerted to even the slightest movements.
When Eric and Kelus approached, the first line of guards sidestepped the large double door, which was secured tightly by a thick wooden plank. Two young boys with large mallets rushed in behind the guards and began banging away at the plank. They concentrated their efforts on one side first, then the other as the thick plank rose up in jolts. Once it popped free from the metal brackets, they dragged it off to one side.
Kelus smiled at Eric, pointing to the doors with his chin. With a last doubtful look over his shoulder, Eric reached out and swung open the heavy doors. He squinted his eyes, trying to adjust to the darkness while taking one carful step at a time, but the high-pitched rattling of chains made him jump back a step. The large winged lizard’s outline was unmistakable. It bucked its head up and down with a gurgling moan, before laying back down on the soft hay.
“Release him now. Take these chains off,” said Eric excitedly as he rushed in, kneeling down at his companion’s side. The lizard purred and cooed as he ran his hand across its reddish brown scales. It nuzzled its head against Eric’s chest as a long forked tongue quickly swiped across its eyes. Even with chains attached to its feet and neck, the creature could move freely due to the generous slack.
“I assure you he is unharmed,” said Kelus, coming up from behind. “I have no idea how you managed to tame a krackledon. They are very aggressive by nature, and certainly would never let a human ride them. Not only have you somehow managed to tame it, the beast seems to have missed you.”
Eric slid his hand down the beast’s neck in long soothing strokes, then whispered to his friend, “I missed you too.”
* * *
Some time had passed since Athel left the circle in tears, her heart shattering at the thought of hurting the man she held most dear. The three members of the circle sat quietly, meditating in the soft light of beeswax candles. Their eyelids fluttered rapidly while soft moans radiated through the room, a relaxing hum of peace and tranquility. As if linked by some unseen force, their eyelids stopped fluttering and opened at the same time. Now released from the spiritual trance, the twins spoke in unison. “Deceptive...partial truth.”
Wara sighed, a slow breath released over a period of time. “All that matters now is that she will most likely leave, and the village will be safe.” She rose from the floor, a graceful, effortless movement giving the illusion she must be nearly weightless, then turned toward the twins. “Sometimes it is best that one does not know the entire truth.”
“And what of the demon? Is it possible?”
For the first time, Wara’s eyes held deep concern. “I can’t be sure yet, but I will speak with the spirits. If he really is the Shantie Rhoe, then we are now living in the darkest era ever recorded.” Wara shivered at the thought. After a moment, she looked up thoughtfully, trying to remember the old world’s translation. Several minutes went by before she whispered, “The Gate Keeper.”
Chapter 5
Athel sat in the corner of the room, trying to ignore Jacob’s constant prodding as to what had happened after they took her away. Jade’s womanly instincts told her it was best not to force the issue. Athel would open up when she was good and ready. She rubbed Athel’s shoulder and kissed her cheek before walking away, leaving the poor girl to her thoughts.
“Fine, then,” said Jacob, standing up from his kneeling position next to Athel. “If you don’t want to talk about it, then I guess that’s that. But I can’t help you unless you tell me what happened.”
She leaned against the corner of the room, pressed in tightly like a shy kitten looking for a place to hide. Her eyes were bloodshot and dry, now drained of all tears. With her mouth ajar and a dazed look, she mumbled, “Just go away. I don’t want to talk to you right now.”
“Athel, please, I just to understand what’s going—”
“Just get away from me, Jacob!” she shrieked before rolling to her side.
“Give her some space, OK?” said Jade, lightly pulling back on her friend’s shoulder. “You men are all the same, thinking you somehow need to solve all our problems. You keep pushing when all we really need is a little space…you know, time to think things through.”
Jacob sighed, knowing there would be no winning this argument. Better to try and run my head through stone than try and argue with these women. Do men ever win arguments against women?
“Alright, then, I can see I’m not wanted. I apologize for caring about you, but that isn’t going to change any time soon, so you better get used to it.” He stormed out the sliding door, snapping it shut behind him.
A moment p
assed before Athel even realized what had happened. Her glazed-over eyes dilated suddenly as she gazed back. “Jacob, wait,” she said, rolling over as she reached her hand out.
“Now, don’t you worry about him,” said Jade. “Just let him walk it off. He’ll be back before you know it. You know how men are.” Although Athel was sure her eyes couldn’t possibly produce another tear...it turned out she was wrong.
* * *
I’ll never understand women, Jacob thought to himself as he wandered down the road, the usual spring in his step gone, his head hanging low. He hardly noticed as entire families moved to the other side of the road, getting clear of the demon’s friend before he was even close. He was oblivious to the whispers identifying him as one of the foreigners, sent here to bring them pain and suffering.
This village was much different than anything he was used to. Absent were the sounds of daily businesses, of bakers shouting out their deals, or the rhythmic hammering of the blacksmith as he worked his miracles on shapeless steel. It all seemed so quiet here, the people hushed and reserved as well. Each person he passed made little to no eye contact, except for the occasional whispered accusation. Of course, these were never meant for his ears.
Off in the distance, he heard a ruckus that grabbed his attention. It sounded like a series of grunts and groans. Was someone being attacked? Jacob began to walk much faster toward the noise, a sense of urgency pressing him on, but he couldn’t help but notice that no one else seemed to share his alarm. He rounded a corner before cutting through an alley, then jumped a set of sacks obstructing his way. As the sounds grew in clarity, his steps slowed a bit, realizing this was probably not what he first thought.
The narrow path opened into a dirt clearing, where he finally saw the source of the commotion. At least one hundred soldiers, standing in separate rows of ten, danced about in unison. Jacob couldn’t help but smile at the skilled men while they moved together as a single unit. With each holding a bladed spear with a blue, feathered tassel on the end, they twirled and thrust in the air, grunting as commands were barked out by the stout man at the front.
A strong, thick man just past his middle years, the leader wore a black robe, whereas all the others were dressed in white. He wore an impossibly long black braid that hung down past his waist, and it looked to have some kind of shiny ornament attached to the end. The pierced holes in his earlobes were stretched wide by oversized studs, each plug with red feathers hanging from them. He seemed to wear a permanent scowl while barking out gibberish, each grunted command signaling the dance to change direction.
Jacob leaned against a thin tree and watched with admiration as the perfect lines moved with power and grace. The whooshing sounds of weapons cutting air, along with the soldiers’ primal grunts, made for quite an enjoyable show. He stood out plainly as he watched, grinning all the while with his arms crossed. More than one soldier noticed him watching, and it was apparently just enough to slightly disrupt their perfect form, a minor misstep that was only noticeable when compared to the razor’s edge of perfection.
The man in black abruptly stopped his organized shouts, then rushed over to one of the men. He grabbed the soldier by the collar and started shaking the poor man violently. “The slightest lapse in concentration could be the difference between living and dying. Don’t you understand that? Another bumbling move like that, and I’ll have you— What? Who?”
The man in white whispered to the leader frantically, pointing up to the hill. Before Jacob knew it, all eyes were suddenly focused on him. It was hard to tell with all the mumbled conversation, but he could have sworn the man in black said something along the lines of, “we’ll give him a warm welcome.”
The stout man walked over to Jacob, who just kept grinning as if this was all some sort of joke. He moved in so close, their noses almost touched. Jacob could feel the man’s hot breath pulsing on his face, but still refused to give up any space. “Is there something I can help you with?” the man in black growled. “I hear you’re one of those foreigners who showed up with that demon.”
“Are you referring to the demon who singlehandedly saved your village, last I checked? Is that the demon you are referring to?” Jacob turned his back to the man and continued to speak into the air, rolling his wrist in circles. “Because if you are indeed speaking of...that demon...I can only assume you wish to thank me and my friends.” He whirled around to face the man once more. “My friend, you’re too kind.” He flicked his eyebrows up and down. “We graciously accept your thanks.”
“Kelus is the lone reason that monster still draws breath,” the man dressed in black grumbled, holding his temper by only a thread. “That brute has killed more women and children than I can count; purged entire villages, leaving none alive. I hear he makes clothes from their skin after consuming their flesh. Now that fiend walks the streets freely, side by side with Kelus, as if his unspeakable crimes have all been forgiven. Perhaps our fearless leader now serves that demon, but I don’t. I’ll kill him myself the moment I get a chance.”
Jacob’s smile melted away like snow thrown on hot coal. His eyes narrowed with anger. “What the hell are you talking about?” he hissed. “I’ve known Eric since we were children. The man has never even told a lie, yet alone hurt a woman or child. Whoever you think he is, trust me, my friend, you are mistaken.”
“Oh, yes, so I suppose it must be another who steps through golden doorways floating in midair. Well, lucky for your friend, Kelus seems to believe exactly that.”
Jacob’s anger quickly turned into confusion. There...there is another with Eric’s abilities? Impossible, this man is insane.
“Never mind all that, perhaps you can help us settle a bet...friend.” The soldiers’ instructor threw a thick, heavy arm over Jacob’s shoulder, then led him back over to the men. He spread his arm out wide, with the other still wrapped around Jacob. “As all of you know, this young man is a companion of that demon,” he went on before Jacob could finish his protest, “and since he is such a good friend of that vile beast, it stands to reason that this boy’s power and skill must be similar. Isn’t that right, boy?” He squeezed Jacob’s shoulder firmly.
With a hard shrug, Jacob freed himself from the man’s grip and walked out in front of the group. He looked out at the men’s faces, each wearing varying expressions. Some seemed to be afraid of him, while others glared with pure hatred. Because of his own swelling anger, his voice rang out crisp and clear. “I don’t know what kind of hateful words falls from this man’s lips,” he looked back to the man in black, “but I assure you, they’re lies.” Grumblings began to vibrate through the group as they all nervously fingered their weapons. “This tyrant you speak of; this half-demon who kills just for pleasure, is a wielder of the black arts and a bringer of suffering, yet you somehow find the nerve to blame a man who only set foot on this land a few weeks ago for those crimes? A man of honor who I’ve proudly called ‘friend’ since childhood?”
“We saw his black magic with our own eyes,” yelled a man from the back row.
“You saw him save your village, fool!” Jacob quickly replied.
“Enough of your deceit,” replied the stocky leader. With a flicking hand gesture, the entire front row of men folded in around Jacob. The skilled soldiers each dropped down to one knee, spears pointed inward. In a blink, Jacob had been trapped within a deadly bladed circle. “Your tongue drips venom, poisonous lies meant to weaken our society, just so we lower our defenses. It seems you have fooled Kelus, which is the only reason I cannot kill you.” Yellowed teeth spread out wide in a wicked smile. “But that doesn’t mean the two of us can’t engage in a spirited sparring session.”
“You don’t want to do this,” pleaded Jacob as a thrown feathered spear bounced at his feet. He looked around as the men cheered, fists pumping in the air. “I swear I’m not your enemy. We didn’t come to these lands to harm any of you. We’re here to save you!” Nearly half the cheers suddenly changed to laughter.
The leader stepped into the circle, holding a spear. “In some way, this boy must represent the strength of our apparent savior.” The roaring laughter only intensified. “Well, it seems the standards of being a hero have lessened as of late. I never associated killing women and children with being a savior.” He slowly twirled the spear over his head in a single rotation before slamming the point deep into the ground. He drove his shin down as the blade snapped off in a spray of splinters. “Wouldn’t want to have an accident...would we, boy?” he whispered.
Jacob sighed as he ran his fingers through his spiky hair. “We’re here to save you,” he mumbled to himself. First Athel starts acting like she doesn’t even want me around anymore, now this. He angrily snatched up the spear, then anchored the blade into the ground, tipping it at a slight angle. Stomping hard on its side a few times, the blade finally crackled off, leaving a jagged point. “Is this really what you want?” he yelled out to the men. “Blood for blood, is that it? If so, you are all no better than this tyrant you speak of.” The laughter quieted down a bit as a sudden uneasiness hung in the air.
He exploded into movement, his staff twirling about at a dizzying speed around his body, over his head, behind his back. The high-pitched whooshing of air being sliced rang out. As fast as it began, he stopped, dropping down low with the frayed point aimed at the other man, whose jaw now hung wide open. “If bloodshed is all that drives you, I pity you. If shallow revenge enacted on innocent people quenches your thirst, you’re hopeless!” Jacob’s voice lowered to a whisper. “Come...seek your revenge.”