by Jeff Gunzel
He spit blood on the floor, after finally easing his grip on the crystal throne. “They placed their faith in us. They—” he paused a moment, eyes crossed and head tilted slightly. “They have put their faith in another. Who is that—”
False god! The mad man fell off the throne, then rolled around the crystal floor, hands clasping his ears. The false deity has come to take what is mine, but I will never let that happen. He struggled back to his knees, still holding his head. I am the true Shantie Rhoe. The coward hides from me, fears me, but I will still draw him out. The world will soon know the truth.
He opened his eyes and slowly got back to his feet. With blood still running from his fingers and mouth, he calmly sat down on the throne, appearing sane once more. His breathing slowed, now coming deep and steady. “The coward hides from me, but I will draw him out. The world will soon know the truth. I am the Gate Keeper.”
* * *
Nima sat on a red pillow with her legs crossed. The flickering oil lamps cast her dancing shadows around the room, although she remained perfectly still. She heard the door snap open behind her, but never bothered turning around. “Good morning, Jade,” she said, still seated with her eyes closed. “It’s good to see you.”
“Good morning, Nima,” Jade said quietly. “Yeah, um, about yesterday…”
“That will be enough of that,” said Nima, getting up to her feet. “I won’t hear another word about it. From this point on, there will be no more distractions, understand? Now follow me.”
The two walked out into the main room, where the other students were chatting in their private circles. Jade had entered the building feeling a little uneasy, so she really hadn’t noticed them until now. The women all wore the same loose-fitting red dresses, but the chained jewels across their foreheads were all different colors. The few men that were here wore red one-piece outfits as well. The students definitely noticed them now, peeking out from their social circles and whispering amongst themselves.
“You won’t be training with any of them today, dear, I just wanted to show you something. Do you see the jewels strung across their foreheads?”
“Of course,” said Jade. “They look just like yours. Well...except yours is green.” She looked around once more. The jeweled headbands were easy to see because by now everyone in the room was staring back at them. She saw yellow, blue, clear, a few red, but no green at all.
“That’s right, dear. Now let’s go back to the other room. No sense in causing such a distraction. They have work to do as well.”
When they went to the other room and closed the door, Jade was relieved to no longer be the center of attention.
“Now, I know we talked a little about this before, but this time I will explain in more detail,” said Nima as she sat on the pillow.
“What are those crystals you all wear?” Jade asked.
“My, my. It looks like someone is eager to get started,” Nima teased, wiggling her finger. Jade could feel the heat building in her face. “You’re getting ahead of me, but I’ll answer your question, since it all starts there anyway. First of all, those are not just ordinary crystals, my dear. They are mined from the Ampulo Mountains and brought back here.”
“Are they valuable?” Jade blurted out without thinking. Her already red face darkened even further.
Nima just smiled at the girl’s innocence. “Yes, I suppose. Well, to us anyway, but for a palin, they are most useful.”
“You keep saying that word, but I don’t know what it means,” muttered Jade, still embarrassed from before, but she just couldn’t help herself. So many questions.
“Oh, dear,” said Nima, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed herself. “I forget myself sometimes. Of course you don’t know what that means. ‘Palin’ is just another word for one who uses nature the way we do—anyone who has been trained in the arts, although we don’t actually call them that until they’ve become at least partially proficient. Using the term prematurely is like calling a boy a man. He will be someday, but right now, he just isn’t. Understand?”
“Yes, I think so. So you are considered a palin?”
Nima looked a bit agitated all of a sudden. “I am a master palin.” She tapped the green jewel strung across her head to emphasize her point.
Jade remembered that green was the one color missing from the others. “So the color of the jewel represents rank?” she guessed.
What started as agitation was fast becoming anger. “Would you please stop guessing and listen to me for once? No, the colors do not represent rank.” Nima’s eyes looked up thoughtfully as she stalled a moment. “Well...I guess they actually do, now that I think about it, but not in the way that you think.” She began to walk about the room, tapping her chin thoughtfully. She never thought it would be this difficult to explain a subject she knew so intimately. “As I’ve already told you, our powers do not come from an internal source. Nature is the most powerful source found anywhere in the world, an endless cavern of power. When a palin does the extraordinary, all they are doing is twisting a tiny bit of the power that is already around us, equivalent to a single drop of water borrowed from the sea, if you will. Are you still with me?”
“I think so,” said Jade. “That was what you meant when you said my friends used a form of ancient magic. Their powers come from within, where yours is borrowed from a completely separate source.”
“Exactly, but before you even think about tampering with the forces of nature, you must first gain control of your life force. You must learn to control your chi.”
“But you know I did this once before,” said Jade, a bit puzzled. “We never focused on my chi or anything like that. How come it worked then?”
“I was guiding you at the time, dear. We sometimes use a technique call linking, which is what I did for you. Essentially, linking is when palins feed off each other’s chi and combine their strength. I must admit, that was one of the most difficult tasks I’ve ever completed.” Nima stared off silently, reliving the strain she had felt while trying to guide Jade that day.
“Why is that?” Jade wondered, growing concerned by Nima’s silence. “I mean, you knew I didn’t know what I was doing. Of course I was unable to take any initiative from my end of the link. You were controlling everything.”
“That was certainly true,” said Nima, shaking off the apparent trance. “I alone was forced to guide your chi, a task I would have found easy enough with any other novice, but it was much more difficult than that.” Jade listened intently, the sudden seriousness of the conversation making her nervous. “Imagine taking a four-year-old child by the hand and trying to walk them across a house. You know instinctively if they start to go the wrong way, a little tug will easily correct them. That’s normally how it feels to guide a novice with no experience.” She sighed loudly. “Well, imagine discovering that same child has the physical strength of five men, yet the instincts of a four-year-old. Each time it wanders the wrong way, there is almost nothing you can do about it. You can still try and guide the child along, but you must hope it decides that following your lead just seems like a good idea. Otherwise...”
“So you’re saying you had virtually no control the day my life force left my body?”
“Yes, dear,” Nima squeaked softly. “It wasn’t until we had already committed to the act that I realized my serious blunder. It could have been very dangerous for both of us, but thankfully your instincts are on par with your abilities. You somehow were able to take full control on your own.” She shook away the memory, deciding it was best not to think about. “Rather stuffy in here, don’t you agree? Let’s go for a walk, shall we?”
“Oh...um, sure. Let’s go,” said Jade, more than happy to change the subject.
* * *
With the midday sun high in the sky, it felt pleasant for a change. The already gentle breeze had calmed considerably, with only the occasional cool gust reminding them that winter still lingered.
The local folk stared and whispered as alwa
ys, a thing Jade had grown quite used to by now. “It does feel good to get out of that cramped room, but where are we going?” asked Jade. Nima answered only with a wink.
They approached the same tree Amoshi was pummeling earlier. In a failed attempt at subtlety, Nima gazed around, as if searching for something. Jade smirked with her head down, trying her best to pretend not to notice. Nima sniffed and threw her head back before moving on. “Hurry up, dear,” she said, as if Jade were the one stalling, “I know a place we can go.”
After a few twists and turns down narrow alleyways, they arrived near the edge of the forest. The trees seemed rather thick here, much more so than other parts Jade had seen. “Come on, dear,” said Nima, holding out her hand to Jade. She stepped carefully through the thorny bushes near the base of the trees. “Step only where I do. If you get pricked, I assure you it will be most unpleasant.” Heeding Nima’s warning, Jade continued on one step at a time, placing her foot directly into the fresh prints.
The vegetation was so thick, neither one could see more than a few feet ahead. The lack of vision made Jade uneasy, to say the least, and even a bit claustrophobic. Nima gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, sensing Jade’s uneasiness. “Just a little farther; we’re almost there.” After a few more careful steps, they broke out into flattened clearing. “Ah, here we are. Just as I remember it.”
The opening was nearly a perfect circle, the way the thick bushes closed in around it. There was not enough light for grass to thrive, but the hard ground was covered with woodchips and dried- out bamboo stalks. Even with the minimal sunlight, it still felt warm because of the dense vegetation blocking out any breeze.
“Here, dear, have a seat,” said Nima before throwing herself down on a small pile of woodchips. She looked around with a gleam in her eye, grinning like a small child. Jade formed her own little seat by pushing chips and stalks around with her feet. “This place has always been my little secret, ever since I was a young girl. This was where I would hide whenever I wanted to be alone. Once in a long while, I would even bring a friend along.”
“Have you ever brought Amoshi here?” said Jade, wearing a sheepish grin. She simply couldn’t resist any longer.
Nima let out a deep breath. “Is it really that obvious?” She rested her chin in her open palm. “In a word...yes. The two of us used to play in here as children. We enjoyed each other’s company, despite our difference in age. Back in those days, all we really had was each other. Both of us were considered different, and the other children wanted nothing to do with us.”
“Are you talking about that early-life test? The one with those insects?” said Jade. Her voice softened. “The one you did on me?”
“For my part, yes. The elders claimed they had never seen anything like it before, so I became branded for life. Even though I was practically still a baby, impossible standards were placed on me. I was forced to work hard at developing my talent while the other little girls got to play with dolls. It wasn’t fair.” She sniffed and turned her head away, quickly pretending there was something in her eye. “This sanctuary helped me maintain my sanity. It was a place to hide when I could no longer face the pressure. Without it...”
Jade’s eyes began to tear up. Nima’s sad story was one she could certainly relate to. “And what about Amoshi? Is he the same as you?”
“Only in the sense that he too was considered to be...gifted. The truth is, he was almost discarded at birth.”
“What?” Jade gasped. “Why would they do something like that?”
“I’m not sure what sort of society you’re used to, Jade, and maybe this will sound cruel. If a newborn is deformed or displays signs of being inferior in any way, we simply rid ourselves of the infant. Of course, the action is quick and humane. No reason for the infant to suffer needlessly.”
“I don’t understand what this has to do with him. Is there something wrong with Amoshi?”
“Well, they thought so at first. You’ve seen the eyepatch he wears, correct?”
“Sure I have,” said Jade. “I just assumed he was blind in one eye.”
“Far from it, dear, but that was also what the elders believed. That one eye is completely white and looks to be nonfunctional, but before any action was taken, simple vision tests were done. It soon became obvious his vision was normal, so despite his esthetic flaw, they allowed the infant to live.”
“Well, I would say that turned out rather well for both of you,” Jade said, punching Nima in the arm softly, just trying to lighten the mood.
Nima smiled at the odd gesture, recognizing the playful game for what it was. “I would say it turned out rather well for the entire village. As far as anyone has seen, there is not a bowman with his skill set anywhere in the land. I’ve seen him launch forty-five arrows in under a minute, and the man simply doesn’t miss. His reputation alone helps keep our village safe. As far as his ‘blind’ eye goes,” she chuckled to herself, “it turns out he has the vision of a hawk. Amoshi’s sight in that eye is far beyond any normal man’s, and even most animals, for that matter.”
Jade continued to grin, recognizing that look on Nima’s face: burning admiration for the one she loves. But then her smile began to melt away. “I don’t understand why the two of you can’t be together.”
Nima’s gaze wandered upward, toward a small opening in the trees—a single spot where the sky peeked through the canopy of leaves. The starless sky was clear but growing dark. They had been out here a long time, talking like old friends. “The answer is simple, dear. He has been promised to another. That is our way, and neither of us have any say in the matter.”
After another long silence, Jade finally spoke. “Does he love her?” she asked softly.
Nima sniffed and shook her head sadly. “What does that matter? He was given to someone else. The arrangement was made shortly after his birth, just as it is for all of us. We don’t get to choose our partners. Who cares what our hearts cry out for? It is not our place to question the wisdom of our elders.” After a time, Nima stood up again. “Do you think you can find this spot again in the morning, dear?”
“Sure, I remember how we got here, and I know where to step. I’ll be fine.”
“Good,” said Nima. “Then our lessons will resume in the morning. I’m sorry we got so distracted today, but I promise to make up for it tomorrow. Oh, and Jade...” Jade looked up from her seated position. “Thank you for listening.” Nima walked up to the unassuming entrance and took a careful step, disappearing halfway into the trees.
Jade remained seated, just wanting to think for a while. She couldn’t help but feel ashamed. A good portion of her life had been spent feeling sorry for herself, thinking about how her life was not fair and how things should have been different...but life isn’t fair. She had met the man of her dreams, even if their immediate future remained uncertain. She never thought she would have friends, yet this group was loyal to a fault. Things certainly could have turned out worse for me. I should be more grateful.
She turned her head toward the rustling of leaves. Nima peeked her head back into the open area. “Just for the sake of answering your question, dear, no...he doesn’t.”
Chapter 10
Morita moved silently through the silvery halls. Glowing blue spheres bounced around innocently in their smooth glass prisons, watching her...judging, or so she felt. She wanted to smash each globe with her bare hands, then tear the little beings into tiny pieces before consuming whatever was left. She wished they had the ability to scream, just so she could hear their agony as the fantasy played out, but instead of acting on her vision of violence, she moved on, allowing the selfish creatures to indulge in their silent laughter. One of these days, my pets.
Rage boiled through her blackened veins like molten lava. The spiteful woman longed to inflict pain on someone, anyone. Had any servant crossed her path, they would soon know unimaginable suffering, if only for the mistake of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. However, most of them had deve
loped an instinct over the years, a feeling born as a defense mechanism, which came upon them when either Zhou or Morita was in the immediate area.
With seemingly no other channel to release her aggression, her rage soon became a guided arrow focused on the true source of her pain. I’ll gut you then eat your innards as you watch. Even though her anger screamed to smash and kill anything that resembled life, she managed to keep moving along silently, one step at a time. I’ll cut your throat slowly, so that you drown in your own blood. I’ll—
She approached the familiar wooden door, then watched silently as her shadow danced across it like a taunting spirit, brought to life by the flickering lantern on the far wall. It was against her, trying its best to give away her location...everything was against her. She pulled back the lid and thrust her hand inside, smothering the flame while submerging it in the oil. Her skin sizzled from the burn, but only for a second or two. You’re all against me. Everyone’s against me, but I’ll still have my revenge.
In a circular motion, she waved her oil-coated hand over the locked keyhole as the golden metal shimmered and sparkled. A light push was all it took, and the door swung inward. Her arrival here had never actually been planned at all, yet here she was. Morita stepped into the dark room, still moving with caution. With her exceptional night vision, she could easily see the white and black checkered carpet and the red pillows scattered about the room. I want to see your head on a pole.
Quietly unsheathing the silver dagger strapped to her side, Morita moved toward the large figure snoring beneath his dark blue silk sheets. Zhou snorted loudly, prompting her to stop in her tracks. After another loud snort, followed by incoherent mumblings, he rolled onto his back. Her heart raced as she stood petrified in the dark, the shiny blade still in hand. It felt as if her every panted breath were echoing off the walls, yet her anxiety would not allow her to calm her breathing.