Banished

by L M Feldt

  I decide to go see what the others are up to and meet this mysterious Bel I had helped save. I hope she is worth the effort. I groan a bit as I shifted my weight to stand. The movement puts a strain on the tender flesh across my back but I am determined to get myself up and moving. I have no desire to stew in my own juices like Fish. Outside, the sun looks high, so it must be late morning. I flick down my second lids and survey the area. A light breeze fluffs my hair and skitters across my back. I feel unusually exposed. A quick exploration and I realized that the back of my shirt is missing. Two spaghetti straps hold the front up and the base is still intact around my waist but the back of my shirt has been cut away. I am left with the bare minimum of coverage. Fine for now, at least until the frayed cloth gives out.

  I start walking toward Aito and Naoaki. They are talking to someone I can’t see. The mysterious Bel perhaps?

  I get halfway there and stop cold. My custom harness is gone. It was leather and Aito had made it just for me. It held my collection of special knives to my back. Had it been cut off? Where were my knives? My questing fingers flutter across my shoulder, noting the transition from smooth skin to a raised edge. It feels slick and tender and is crusted with dried blood. A sense of wonder fills me. How is this possible?

  Eight

  The flickering orange light of the brazier casts long shadows across the curved sides of the tent and lights the faces around it in stark contrasts of bright and darkness. There are six of us now sharing this space and it is too many for my comfort. I have claimed a space near the open door, uncomfortable in the close quarters and needing the fresh air to sooth my sore back.

  Our newest addition sits to my right, as far from Khane as possible. It is not Bel and Khane has taken the revelation with little grace, withdrawing into himself, brows furrowed darkly. I study the small boy as his attention is riveted on Aito. It is story time. Aito, sensing tension within our group, has stepped up to the challenge.

  It had been a surprise to find a different person than we were expecting hiding in the cave. Not only that, but there were odd holes in his story. Every explanation sounded rehearsed and offered little in terms of details, like a story that hasn’t been fleshed out properly, like a lie. The question of him being Banished so young had been met with a shrug and a quizzical stare, as though he didn't understand the question.

  The whereabouts of Bel remain a mystery. He insists he had only glimpsed her briefly before seeing her led away by the Elite Guards, who were themselves nearly myth. There is the issue of him being found intact, as in, not hurt. Banished without a Trial? What could this small, unassuming person have done to warrant that? Nothing adds up and suspicion is a sour spice coating all our thoughts.

  Tired from a long day of walking in the hot sun hadn’t improved our group’s mood either and we are maybe not as accepting as we could be. The small curly-haired boy had given his name as Heb and even that seems off to me, like he’d made it up on the spot. His skin has a dusky tone to it and his wide, unblinking eyes make it hard to interrogate him for long without your own starting to water. Finally, Aito had simply welcomed him to the group. I understood his reasons, really, what other choice is there? Leave him? What would that make us? Answer; no better than the people who supported the policy of Banishment in the first place.

  I half listen to Aito’s smooth tones as he relates the heroic deeds of one of our favorite historical twists, Monkey. Monkey was a mischievous twist that led the minders on a merry chase before his capture and Trial. Many stories came from his time in the compound and he is a source of great pride among us. Of course, he was caught and killed during his Trial, but the stories always focus on his crazy antics, to inspire us to live life to the fullest…. Until our time is over.

  The cool night air washes over my back, providing some relief. The burning sensation hasn’t lessened and I feel strange in a way I can’t put words to. I don’t know if I am experiencing the after-effects of the pollen or still recovering from having used my twist. I am relieved to not be a pile of squishy noodles. Aito’s stolen drink must have fixed that aspect of my twist permanently. Either way, I am not in top fighting condition and that worries me. Khane and I are the only real fighters. I had been giving Naoaki lessons in knife work back at the compound but I have no idea how much she had practiced on her own. As a group, we are easy pickings.

  I glance over my shoulder into the darkness, my mind drifting to the surprise of my survival. Never had I even considered the possibility of surviving this long, yet here I sit, somewhat torn and bloody but alive. My back itches something fierce, which Aito assures me is a good thing. I have been injured enough in training to know what healing feels like and this, this is worse than recovering from a broken rib. I sincerely hope that whatever medicinal plant Fish leads us to tomorrow will ease the itching, crawling, burn before I go all crazy like Monkey.

  “How are you doing?” Naoaki sidles up next to me, her back to the room. “Fish says if we head Southwest tomorrow, he senses something there to help you, about a day away depending on the weather.” She whispers, so she won’t interrupt the story.

  I nod, appreciating the news. I am not entirely sure how Fish’s twist works but I had seen Aito hold an empty vial under his nose earlier. It looked similar to the vial that’d contained the goop he’d fed me after my first time with my new twist. I shudder at the memory. Whatever had been in that vial from the labs had changed me fundamentally and I approved. There were times when a person’s own twist could kill them and I suspect I had been very close. The fact that the stuff had worked meant that someone is still experimenting with genetic engineering, despite the fact that getting caught is punishable by death.

  I sleep fitfully that night, again plagued by wild dreams of horrible monsters chasing me. Beaked lizards with bloodied neck frills and something with tentacles covered in suckers got the closest. I wake only once, shivering as a long wet something slithered past, hopefully just a dream tentacle. I squint through bleary eyes. A small form is silhouetted against the night sky, a dark blur against black velvet. Most would not have been able to see it at all. I am not sure I am even awake but something goads me into following. I don’t have Naoaki’s talent for stealth, and if this is a dream it won’t matter, but I do my best to follow at a safe distance anyway. If this is not a dream, then who would leave the safety of the group in the middle of the night? For what purpose?

  I follow carefully and watch as a white glow springs up. I doubt it could be seen from the tent if anyone were to look but to my eyes it is nearly as blinding as the midday sun. I stop, dazed, and take a deep breath, letting my eyes re-adjust. If this is a dream, it is very different from all the others. Once I can see again, I creep forward, pushing through the soft fronds of scrub bush. There, a short distance away, sits Aito. He is crouched over whatever is creating the glow, trying to hide it. As I get closer I see a bracelet in his hands. It has a face that is open and a round dial with different colored dots radiating outward.

  “Aito?” I whisper. What is that thing? Am I dreaming?

  Suddenly my head feels fuzzy. Without meaning to I find myself walking back to the tent. What an odd shift in my dream. Not a single monster tried to eat me.

  Morning brings a cold drizzle. The storm that was supposed to have hit hard and move on, has decided to settle in for a while, dousing the landscape with thick fog and constant dripping. My vote is to hunker down and wait it out despite the pain in my back.

  Unfortunately, we have no food or water so staying put isn’t an option. If only we had packed food and water…. It is one of those moments I might have joked ‘told you so’ with Aito….but I don’t. I keep my mouth shut, finding myself suddenly unsure of him and I don’t know why.

  The next two days are a miserable repetition of motion through a grayed landscape. With the fog blanketing everything, Fish is our only means of determining direction. His constant burbling in my ear is getting on my nerves and I am angrier every step I am forced t
o carry him on my back. I can’t get his harness to rest comfortably no matter how I adjusted it. The raised design on my back is puffy and sore, weeping blood. I have come to accept that my knives, somehow, are now a part of me, but they won’t heal. I burn and itch like mad. I still have a fever.

  So why am I carrying Fish when Khane is perfectly capable? Khane has withdrawn from us. He no longer walks with the group despite the added safety of staying together. He refuses to speak or respond to anyone and since the fog has settled in I catch only vague glimpses of him in the distance. Then he is gone again, swallowed by shifting whiteness. I assume he is in mourning for his girlfriend but in my mind I tell him what a selfish, misguided jerk he is being. We are in the wilds proper now, danger and death lurk around every clump of palms. This is not the behavior of a warrior and if I can get close enough to him I will definitely let him know.

  My back is chaffed raw and it is all I can think about. Even hunger and thirst pale by comparison. I have quite a litany of choice words picked out for Khane when I get my hands on him.

  Everyone’s nerves are frayed by the end of our second day. The constant wetness and the inability to see the things we know must be out there, slithering and tentacled and waiting to eat us, have us jumping at every little sound. We are tired, scared and hungry.

  Thanks to Fish, we have been able to gather enough root bulbs to survive, but our bellies grumble for cooked food and water. Finally, Aito calls the day. Supposedly we are close now to the source of whatever plant he thought could help complete the healing of my back but it is too late to search for it now. Hunting through the dense fog at night is blind foolish. And yet…

  As soon as the tent is up I drop Fish in the back and head out into the growing darkness. I ignore the calls from the others. I ignore all semblance of reason. I am beyond rational thought and in truth, the cold night air, so full of wetness, is a irresistible balm to the open wound of my back. I crash through low growing scrub brush without regard for danger. The way I am feeling, I would welcome a fight.

  Nine

  My breath rasps loudly in my ears as I push through an ever thickening underbrush. The clumps of palms are growing closer together now, forcing me to weave a narrow path through their smooth purple trunks. The wide bladed fan shaped fronds are the easiest to push through. Flat and smooth, the fans are sturdy enough to use them to move other, more obnoxious plants out of the way. The dangling whip-like vines that hang from the palms look unassuming but sport sharp barbs that scratch or try to embed themselves in my skin. I quickly learn to avoid those.

  I can see at most two feet in front of me despite my enhanced eyesight and I briefly consider turning back. I know I am being every bit as foolhardy as Khane but I need to expel some of this wildness in me. So I push on, needing to be alone, away from the complexities of our group’s dynamics. Everything is changing. Everything I thought I knew is proving to be in question. What did I trust? Who? Questions and insecurities swirl through my mind, a maddening clutter that holds no answers. My life up to this point has been solely focused on training for my Trial and Banishment. I hadn’t ever considered what life might be like if I survived and had to make a life for myself in the wilds. I feel at odds with myself and everyone else, as though we living on borrowed time.

  I continue in what I think to be a straight direction until I notice a violet glow to the darkening air before me. Night is coming on and I know I am being reckless but now my curiosity is piked. The closer I get, the more vibrant the color becomes. There is an almost hypnotic quality to it, a pulsing….but not quite. I swipe at a vine, cursing as it opens a line of red across the palm of my hand, and step through some fanned fronds to a unexpected sight.

  Before me, the fog has lifted somewhat, perhaps burned off by the bright, luminous liquid below. It isn’t large, at least the portion I can see, but the pond before me is the single most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Shifting layers of glowing, intense purple and darker indigo colors slide around each other like living things. It is silent here. A bubble of quiet energy held in, protected by the thick press of palms and tropical thicket.

  The fog layer acts like a glass dome, reflecting the moving colors below, keeping the outside world at bay. It is strange and so outside my experience that I stand motionless for a while, soaking it in. For the first time in my life I wondered at a world so much larger than myself. There is so much I don’t know. Is there a god? The feel of this place has a sacred, almost mystical enchantment to it. It would be so easy to lay down my lifelong anger and turn to a less violent existence. I wait, tempting fate, but no glowing figure presents itself, so I take my time absorbing the beauty, reveling at the stillness within myself.

  Eventually, I grow tired of standing around. A sense of peace has replaced the wild feeling that had been consuming me. I can breathe now at least. I look around noting a narrow sandy shoreline. It is full night now so the only light comes from the shifting colors of the pond. It makes the sand look like dried blood which doesn’t harmonize well with the beautiful colors of the water and unsettles me a little. It breaks the spell to a degree so I decided to investigate the area more. I place my feet with care as I followed the water’s edge, unwilling to disturb the flow of colors with my dirty boots. Around a copse of short growing vegetation, the sand devolves to a thick muck making it more difficult to walk. It is slower going and I have to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other for fear of loosing my balance. The pond looks beautiful but Aito’s serious voice nags at the back of my skull, reminding me that pretty things should be avoided.

  I am nearly around a stand of mini purple palms when I hear the sound. I freeze, listening. Absolute silence had become the norm and now the soft keening is out of place. Is it a hurt animal? I turn my head, trying to locate where the sound is coming from. My eyes travel the water line, looking for a shape that doesn’t fit the local vegetation. I squint, slowly scanning the pond’s edge, analyzing shapes, hoping it is one I would recognize. Hoping there won’t be a tentacle.

  A huddled mass catches my eye. It is Khane! I am sure of it! I would recognize the outline of his double sided ax anywhere. My serene mood evaporates. All my anger from the past two days of suffering comes flooding back and I stomp my way through the grasping mud toward him. He hears me and stops sniffling.

  “Keira?”

  My expression must have given him some clue. I watch him unbuckle his ax and hold it before him.

  “Stop. Wait. What are you doing? Why are you…” Streaks of wetness line his cheeks and his weakness only adds more fuel to the fire. I am beyond myself, so filled with fury and indignation I can't speak. I storm toward him, slogging through the sucking mud, my blood singing for vengeance. I want him to pay for leaving me solely responsible for the safety of our group and for the misery of long days with Fish strapped to my raw back. All reason has burned away.

  I hadn’t meant to let it go so far. My emotions had been a churning mess ever since I’d faced the beast and been left standing. Alive. I’d become untethered from everything I thought I knew. With freedom and life had come pain and disorientation. These are excuses, I know this. But I can only plead that a sort of madness overcame me…

  And I twist.

  Electric coldfire races down my spine, unlocking my twist as it goes. I feel a cool wetness as the curve of my newly formed wings lift up, the motion smooth even as I gasp with the pain of ripping flesh. The strange power I’d felt before is back, thrumming inside me like the pounding of a drum. Shards of power and light rise with my wings, reflected the luminescent glow of the pond, blue and purple violence. With shimmering wings of steel and death, I spring.

  And hit a solid wall, stunning me. Khane uses my temporary inaction to his advantage. He swings his ax, a glancing blow, pulled at the last moment or it would have knocked me out cold or killed me. Instead, I fly through the air and splash face up in the pond, my back and wings completely submerged. I gasped, stunned, allowing a dribble of pond
water to slide down my throat. It tastes of nothing and of everything. It is as though I have tasted life itself. It’s thickness slides down my throat like a slug and I swallow instinctively. A mistake. This is not water.

  I exploded from the liquid, the glowing stuff sticking to me, eating at my tender back like acid. My back arches in an agony so extreme there are no words. I fling my wings wide, screaming as the acid tears me apart, barely registering Khane on the shore, screaming with me. I lurch and stumble into Khane’s strong arms… and pass out.

  I wake to the feel of sunlight on my outer lids, soft morning light. Where am I? Slowly, other sensations make themselves known. Strong arms cradle me gently, protectively, and a hard body presses against mine. I snuggled back into the warmth but my eyes flick open in surprise. I guess what I’d heard about men in the morning is true. Part of Khane is most definitely awake. Embarrassed, I consider putting some space between us but I am too comfortable to move. Even so, I must have moved a little, alerting Khane that I am awake.

  He grunts sleepily and I turn in his arms to regard his face. How could I have been so wrong about him?