by Ela Lourenco
“You have been well trained,” acknowledged the Sahat lieutenant, as he released a spell in tandem with another well-aimed punch, managing to catch his opponent on the jaw.
The protector took the full brunt of the blow and stumbled backwards before righting himself, never once taking his eyes off his adversary. This man was no ordinary member of Sahat. He had fought them a few times before and found them to be of only moderate fighting skill. Most Sahat members, based on the intel he and the other seekers had gathered, were bureaucrats not fighters. This man though, he had been expertly trained. Who was he? He had to be someone the organisation trusted greatly if they had sent him to retrieve the prophecy; the niggling feeling that he had met the man before persisted, renewing his need to uncover his identity.
Barely dodging another spell coming his way, the protector leaped into the air, right leg stretched out with lethal grace, as he practically flew towards the Sahati. Taking advantage of the other man’s split second of distraction, he brought his hands together, creating an orb of magicks. Releasing the spell just as his foot made contact with the Sahati’s stomach, he landed deftly in a crouch. His opponent doubled over with the force of the kick before his spine snapped back upwards as the spell engulfed him. Body twitching from the magicks, he keeled over, as though in slow motion, to lay motionless at the protector’s feet.
Lyli’s spell had proved very effective indeed, although it was not one of the more powerful ones she had taught him. He shook his head. Such a worthy opponent brought down by a sleeping spell. Lyli was going to have a field day with this, especially after all the times he had argued with her over how such weak spells were a waste of time that could be better spent learning the more offensive ones.
Walking over to where the man lay, he knelt down. The Sahati was well armed, a variety of weapons concealed in almost every fold and pocket of his robes—the quality of which confirmed his belief that the man was someone of importance. He pushed back the man’s hood and jolted backwards, as though he had seen a ghost. It couldn’t be! Ari? But how? No, he shook his head. It was impossible. Ari had died when they were just kids. He had seen it happen himself. This man had to be someone else—a doppelgänger perhaps?
He pushed up the right sleeve of the still sleeping man, and paled when he saw the small crescent shaped scar near his wrist—a scar he had gotten while they were sparring as children. There was no way that someone who happened to be Ari’s twin also had the same exact scar. Sitting down, mind reeling with incredulity, he stared into the distance trying to make sense of what he was seeing. He had been only 9 years old when his best friend had died. He would never forget the night where he had snuck out as usual after the housekeeper had put him to bed, his father ever absent as usual, and crept over to Ari’s house.
Ari’s parents knew he snuck over almost nightly, but they never said a word. With them, he had found the love and sense of home missing from his life. Having lost his mother as a mere infant, and a father who had never taken the time to know him, he had become a lost child who acted out in order to get some attention. He and Ari had met at the playground near their homes. Grinning as he remembered how he had punched the boy for no reason, inevitably leading to a full on fist fight, which was then stopped by a very angry Lily, Ari’s mother. After dragging them back to her house and scolding them both severely for their behaviour, she had done something, which he had never expected. She had hugged them both, and sat them down to clean their scratches.
He still remembered that hug—warm, floral kindness wrapping around him like a blanket on a cold night. He had loved her as though she were his own mother. Ari and he had become inseparable after that day, and Lily, the kind soul that she was, had practically adopted him. Ari’s dad, Kieran, though not as openly affectionate as Lily, had also been a kind man, training him alongside Ari, and never once complaining that overnight they had gained another son to bring up.
But then, in one moment, everything had changed. That fateful night, he had just reached Ari’s house, when a blinding light followed by an earth-shattering explosion had sent him flying backwards into the street. Dazed and bleeding, he had somehow managed to get up and stumbled to the house. Dark crimson flames engulfed the house, licking against the windows, devouring everything in its wake. Without thought to his own safety, he had somehow managed to force open the back door of the house. What he found in the kitchen had frozen him in place. Kieran was lying on the kitchen floor, his open eyes lifeless, skin devoid of all colour; and Ari, he was ensconced in his dead mother’s arms, as though she had sought to protect him even with her dying breath.
In a severed daze of shock, he remembered little after that. Apparently, one of the neighbours had called the guard, and they had found him still standing there with the house ablaze around him. A kindly nurse had treated him for burns he had not even noticed on his hands, and then his housekeeper had been sent for to take him home. He remembered lying awake in his bed all night, hoping that each sound he heard was his father coming to check on him. But like all the other times he had wished for his father, no one ever came.
The papers had all covered the news, labelling it a “tragic accident” following the thorough investigations of the guard. “Accident?” The protector swallowed the bile, which threatened to rise in his throat. He knew it had been no mere accident. He had seen the flash of a spell before the explosion; he had seen the fear frozen on Lily’s face even in death. He had tried to tell his father what he had seen and then the guard themselves, but no one had wanted to listen to a 7 year old boy.
Leaning forward to look at his opponent’s face again, he inhaled deeply. He would know that face anywhere, as impossible as it seemed it was Ari, and he was alive. Now he just had to decide what he should do with him. Friend or not, Ari was working for the Sahat, something which did not make sense given all that he knew about his friend’s character.
“Why on Xanos would you work for the very organisation your father spoke out against?” he murmured to himself.
Kieran had been a powerful and intelligent man—he had also been a seeker. Still reeling from all the unanswered questions in his head, he turned at a sudden noise in the forest. Creeping through the trees, he quietly investigated the source of the sound. There was nothing there. Walking back to where he had propped up Ari, he froze. Ari was gone! He searched around the immediate vicinity frantically, but to no avail. His friend seemed to have vanished into thin air.
Chapter Eighteen
Rubbing his eyes to cast off the last shreds of drowsiness, Ari hurried out of the forest. Thanks to the Dohar’s powerful spells, he was well protected against magick attacks. It was the only reason he had gotten away tonight, wakening earlier than his adversary had predicted. He frowned without slowing down. Even though he had been out of it, he had heard snippets of the other man talking to himself. He had heard his own name several times, although how the man could know him, he couldn’t fathom. It was something he would have to figure out later though. He had already lost too much time, and he still had his mission to complete. If the seekers located and hid the prophecy again, he would lose valuable time trying to find it—time they did not have.
He cursed silently as he touched his neck. The chain he wore the ring the Dohar had given him had snapped in the fight. He cast a cursory glance around the way he had come, using a faint light spell to see if he could spot it. Torn between his mission and finding the one possession that meant something to him, he sighed, dejected, and reluctantly turned back towards where the Gyro was pointing. Finding the ring would have to wait. Completely unarmed, he didn’t have much time before the seeker tracked him down.
The Gyro lit up shooting sparks of magick, as he approached an unassuming looking cottage in the middle of a meadow. This was where the prophecy had been hidden? It seemed such an unlikely location, but then again, perhaps that had been the beauty of it considering no one had been able to find it all the
se years. Despite the fact that she was working against them, he had to admire the oracle’s cunning.
Stealthily moving towards the cottage, he noted quickly that none of the lights were on inside and all was quiet. Circling around the house, he saw that one of the windows on the first floor was slightly ajar. Climbing up the sturdy vines growing up the stonewalls, he quietly pushed it open and slid inside. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room before he could make out the outline of a small desk piled high with books next to a bed where a slender body lay breathing steadily. He glanced at the Gyro, which he had hidden under his heavy cloak. It was sparking almost manically now—an indicator that he was very close to where the prophecy was hidden. He exhaled softly. For a moment, he had worried that the seekers had gotten to it before him. Ari started to tiptoe towards the door of the bedchamber away from the sleeping body and then stilled—the Gyro had dimmed. Confusion etched on his face, Ari turned back towards the room, and it lit up again. Creeping towards the bed, he realised with astonishment that the prophecy was right in front of him. It had to be, judging by the pyrotechnic display the Gyro was putting on.
Just then, the clouds parted, allowing the combined light of the twin moons to beam through the large window spotlighting the bed. Ari barely managed to contain his gasp when he saw the slender girl lying in the bed. Her shoulder-length hair seemed to gleam gold, as she slept peacefully unaware of the stranger in her room. He eased forward, urged on by the Gyro, which was now practically burning a hole in his pocket. A wave of serenity he had never experienced before hit him as he neared the girl. For a split second, he almost forgot why he was there to begin with. A hazy memory tried to play in his mind. There was a boy and they were playing together in a well-kept garden. The image disappeared just as fast as it had come.
What magick was this? It was obviously making him hallucinate. Firming his resolve, he began to search the immediate vicinity of the bed with the sight spell the Dohar had given him. The prophecy should have lit up and yet nothing. What trickery had the oracle devised now?
“Sorry to interrupt, considering you are so deep in thought and all,” a sweet voice said, startling him. “But do you mind telling me what on Xanos you are doing in my room?”
He gaped at the girl who was obviously not asleep anymore. Staring back at him, with curiosity rather than fear, were the bluest eyes he had ever seen—so bright they seemed to almost glow in the violet light of the moons.
“Well,” she continued. “I’m Sena. And you are?”
“Uh, Ari,” he replied without thinking. There was something hypnotic about the girl’s gaze.
“And you are here because?”
He pulled out the Gyro, it was still fizzling with light. The prophecy had to be here somewhere.
“Brilliant,” the girl called Sena muttered. “Two visitors who won’t tell me what they’re after in one night. I should start charging admission.”
“Someone else was here earlier? Was it a young man?”
Sena stared at him as though he had grown two heads.
“A woman,” he deduced. It had to have been the oracle. So she had gotten to the prophecy first. But then why was the Gyro still active? Could the magical residue it had left behind be confusing it, causing it to give false readings? “Either that or Lyli has cast a spell to mess with the locator,” he muttered to himself.
“Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness,” Sena piped up. “Although I’m not sure what that says about me.” Well, she did talk to a magical amulet and had a Phoros living inside of her. “Anyway,” she glowered at the stranger as she got out of bed. “Will someone tell me what the Xanos is going on?” She prodded him in the chest with a finger angrily. “If one more person tells me that I will find out soon enough, I’m going to … well, let’s just say that whatever I do will be painful.”
Ari hid the grin, which threatened to break free. The girl, Sena, was spunky for such a petite thing.
“I think he’s laughing at us!” Z bellowed in Sena’s mind making her wince. “We’ll show him! Let’s see if he’s still grinning like a Xanian wildcat when we’re done with him! The upstart! The charlatan, the puny pathetic.”
“Calm Dyx,” Kalla said soothingly. “Let us see where this upstart will take us.”
“Say what?” Z shrieked. “Are you saying we let him take us? For reals? No offence, Phoros, but are you insane? I think your brain has gotten addled with old age, that’s what it is. It must be because I think you just suggested that we let Sena get kidnapped by what looks like a Sahati!”
“Sahati he may be, but there is more to him than that,” Kalla replied sagely. “Do you not sense the struggle within him?”
“The only struggle he’s got is with his fashion sense,” Z grumbled. “I mean, who wears black robe nowadays? The kid is practically screaming “I am a bad guy, take me to your leader.” I hate clichés!”
Sena looked at Ari then—really looked at him. Using all of the training Sya had given her, she opened her inner sight to glimpse the aura of the one before her. There, deep inside of Ari, was a ball of darkness, a taint on his essence. But Kalla was right. Wrapped around the shadows of his spirit were thin threads of golden magick. She looked up at Ari speculatively. Something, a sense, a feeling, something told her that he was important somehow. He had resisted turning completely and there was goodness in him yet. Sena sighed. She knew what she had to do. She only hoped her mother would understand. “Come on then, we had better go.”
“We? Go?” he stared at her in confusion. What was this strange girl talking about now?
“Yes, now,” she stated, grabbing her winter cloak and a large bag. “Come on, before my mother wakes up.”
Dragging him by the arm, she led him to the window and began climbing down. Ari followed her, still confused as to what had just happened. He had come to find the prophecy, but instead, seemed to be leaving with a teenage girl—a girl who was either very brave or crazy, or perhaps both.
“Not that way,” she told him, as he made to turn back into the forest. “I know a shortcut.” And with that, she marched on, leaving him no choice but to follow in her wake.
He barely managed to keep up as she glided through a meadow of purple grass so tall he could barely see the top of her head. Who was this girl? Despite her age, she moved with the graceful stealth of a hunter, her steps sure and confident. The bag she carried was large and heavy, and yet, she hoisted it around as though it was full of nothing but air. Her slim frame belying her obvious strength. He stumbled slightly, as he remembered that he had not fulfilled his mission. The thought of seeing the disappointment on the Dohar’s face stabbed at him like a knife. He had never failed before, had never let down the man who was the closest thing to a father he had ever known.
“We’re almost there,” Sena called softly over her shoulder.
Snapping out of his self-pity, Ari looked up, surprised to see that they had come deep into the heart of the forest. “I thought you didn’t want to come here?”
“Oh, no, we were always meant to come here, just not by the path you would have taken. You are not ready for what you would find there, not yet. Although you will be.”
Ari groaned silently. She sounded just like the oracle talking in riddles. Would no one ever speak plainly?
He almost knocked into her when she stopped abruptly by a large stone. “We’re here,” she declared.
Ari looked around wondering where on Xano’s here was. There was nothing around them, but tall trees swaying in the breeze and the endless violet night sky. Maybe his first thought had been right. Maybe she was a few planks short of a Pilar tree. Just then, he watched, mouth agape, as she held her hands over the stone, golden glyphs appearing out of her fingertips. In amazement, he saw the large rock groan open to reveal a staircase leading underground.
“Come on, we don’t have mu
ch time,” she proclaimed impatiently, pulling him into the passageway.
He gasped as the stone slammed shut behind them. Where in the Gods” names was she taking him?
“No need to be frightened,” she commented, a curious look on her face. “Nothing here will harm you.”
His spine stiffened with indignation. He was a Sahati, an undercover operative, the best in the entire organisation, and the right hand man of the Dohar himself. His thoughts scrambled, as Sena pulled him into what looked like a gargantuan bubble of magick. Feeling as though he were in a waking dream or nightmare, depending on how one viewed it, he stared at the many shades of amber around him. Nothing seemed familiar in this strange place she had brought him to. Everything was alien.
“Sena!” a soft voice called out in greeting. “I did not think to see you so soon after … oh.” the beautiful owner of the voice stopped as she noticed him. “Who is this?”
“Ari, meet Sya, Sya this is Ari. He appeared in my room tonight. Well, he wasn’t the only one, but he is the one I had to bring here.”
Sya’s confusion mirrored his own, replaced a second later by anger as Sena’s words registered. “He was in your room?” She fixed a glare on him, her beautiful blue of her eyes swirling as magick gathered in her hands.
“Don’t hurt him,” Sena said softly, taking her friend’s hands in her own. “He was always meant to be here.”
Just like that, Ari watched Sya’s entire being relax, the serene smile firmly back on her face. “If you vouch for him, then he is welcome here.” She looked at him again inquisitively. “Although he himself does not seem to know why he is here,” she arched a brow.