No Man's Land

by C D Beaudin

  “You have this backward, Revera. You don’t save anything. You destroy. Awyn saves.”

  “Awyn?” She doesn’t laugh, but instead it looks like she boils in red anger. “Awyn is comatose. You aren’t looking at the real Awyn, no. That’s her body, but who inhabits it is a much different person to who escaped that cell ten months ago. That Awyn is asleep, in a coma—possibly dead.” Her eyes grow even more intense. “That Awyn is gone.”

  Saine shakes his head, eyes closing. She had possibly the one connection he didn’t have with Adriel or Kepp. She was also nearly killed by a Dalorin. They didn’t know each other very well…but that seemed to connect them, nonetheless. Awyn had connections with everyone, in different ways. They’ve all been affected by her change, but if she’s really gone…

  “There must be something we can do to save her.”

  “Maybe, but why would I tell you? Everything is going according to plan.”

  “To plan? Did you know this was going to happen?”

  Revera smirks and turns away. But Saine isn’t going to let her disappear without answering. He runs after her, grabs her shoulder, forcing her to look at him.

  She lets out a cry of pain. Revera lifts her hand to strike him, but he grabs her wrist and twists it, a snap of her bone sends another cry from her throat.

  “What—?” Her eyes widen as she looks at him. In the next second her other hand touches his forehead and she yelps, jumping back. Clutching her broken wrist, she seems smaller now. “How did I not see this?” She isn’t talking to him but pondering aloud. Her eyes gaze at him, a piercing, somewhat fearful expression. “How did you hide this for so long?”

  Saine approaches her, grabs her throat, and squeezes. He makes sure to contain his strength, not wanting to kill her quite yet. “Because I needed to.” His teeth bared, he squeezes her neck harder, the sorceress clearly struggling.

  “You. Can’t… They’re the...”

  Saine cocks his head, reveling in seeing her die. “Yes, they are. Because that part of me doesn’t exist. It will die with you. You won’t get a chance to pervert the secret I’ve kept so close to me for reasons you can’t understand… Or maybe you do, but you won’t get the chance to find out.” His other hand wrings around her throat, but she still isn’t letting death take her.

  “You’ll have…” Her voice is strangled. “To try harder to kill me.”

  Saine remains steady, until a burning fills his chest. He yells, hunching over. A burning light shines from his heart. He feels its searing sting, the swelling as it contorts with the blaze eating away at it. But Revera disappears, and the burning goes with her. He gasps for air, finding it, but the sensation of dying lingers.

  So that’s what happens when things don’t go according to her plan. He takes a deep breath, straightening, but hunches over again, strength seeming to have left him. I wonder what she’s like when she loses. Hopefully she’ll be dead, so we don’t have to find out.

  Picking up his pace, he hopes Revera’s protection spell lingers with him as he ventures deeper into the woods. He knows this forest like the back of his hand, though, he hasn’t told anyone the reason for that. One could almost say he was trained here, but he’d have to slit their throat if they ever knew the truth.

  The Plainsman. Exile. Killer. Outlaw and criminal.

  He lives up to his reputation in his spare time, not when he’s fighting with the Resistance. And they haven’t been doing too much fighting lately, so he’s been carving his name into every door without anyone knowing. The name rings a true title. Aradon is the Bowman because of his bronze bow. He was Slayer, before that, because, well, he slayed. The Plainsman, though. It’s not because he grew up in the flatlands of Nomarah. He chose that name because even the Plains of Iandore, no matter how flat they are, hold dangers. It’s a telling name of how much of a liar he is, but no one’s connected the dots quite yet. Even Revera doesn’t have the whole story.

  There are some things they’ll never tell trainees. Like how they torture greenhorns, so they learn to never give their secrets away, even to powerful elves that can dig around in one’s head. They torture the mind, the soul, and the body. By the end of training, the greenhorn becomes the soldier, complete with the ability to separate the three from each other. When one’s body is being attacked, their mind and soul can escape, keeping their secrets intact. The same goes with torture. Soul. Mind. Body. Saine’s equipped. He might keep his secrets well-guarded, but that’s only because he knows how. He didn’t tell Revera that. Lying to the ultimate liar. Impressive, even for him.

  He hears a nearby scream of a Dalorin and starts running. Instinct, not fear, is what they used to call it. “The body runs but the mind stays steady.” He rounds a large rock, jutting from the ground like a mountain, and finds the marked place. The large, black insignia is stark and in the open, but no one ever comes in here, and if they did, they’d think they were only hallucinating. Saine digs in his pocket, the key tight in his palm. Wrapping it in a cloth, he places it in the small, carved slit he made six months ago.

  Grabbing one of his knives, he slits the palm of his hand, dips his fingers into the blood, and draws his own mark under the slit, nowhere near the stature of the insignia. His bloody finger draws a mountain, the red dripping down the rock. Maybe it is a flawed design—he’s not an artist—but it does the job. Whether it’s striking fear into the hearts of his next victims, letting kingdoms know he was there by marking his prey—or simply letting those from his past know the time has come.

  Saine studies the mountain, the blood nearly black in the darkness. The Plainsman. A lie built on another lie, built on betrayal and pain.

  The mountain is a truthful symbol.

  Saine wipes his hand on his pants and hurries out of the woods.

  Kepp knocks at Eldowyn’s door. Maybe he’ll regret it, but he needs to see his brother. And say sorry. He needs to… He just needs to see him, to make sure he’s all right. Eldowyn’s changed, a lot. Kepp has too. But he needs his brother. At least, right now he does.

  He huffs to himself.

  The door opens and Eldowyn’s eyes lift the few inches of height Kepp has on him. “What are you doing here this late, brother? I’m trying to sleep.”

  “The bags under your eyes would beg to differ. Have you slept at all?”

  “No, but why does it matter?” he spits.

  “It doesn’t…” Kepp sighs. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. What’s wrong with us. I know I…hurt you in the past, El—”

  “Don’t call me El.”

  “—dowyn. I know I’ve hurt you, but we need to be a united front. We are stronger together.”

  “What is this? What are you trying to achieve with these storybook words, Kepp? When we’re together, we nearly kill each other.” He straightens. “Or at least you do, anyway. I’m always at the tip of the knife with you, Kepp. I’m sick of it.” He exhales, clearly exasperated. “I’m tired. Very tired. So if this is another one of your attempts to fix the pain you’ve caused because you had a poor childhood, then bother Adriel.” He goes to close the door, but Kepp stops him.

  “No, Eld—”

  “Just go away, Kepp! You are second, you will always be second! I don’t care that father chose me over you, he was right to. You are second. Worthless. Nothing!”

  Kepp goes blank.

  The moon was high in the sky. The trees had a beautiful silver glow to them, and the incandescent blue flowers and plants in Radian created an enchanting atmosphere to the city of Drestia at night.

  The elven capital was woven into the tall forest. The city shone in the woods, and bridges draped in iridescent vines linked the houses above the ground. The shining stone surfaces of the houses were decorated with white and crystal gems that made them sparkle.

  But it wasn’t even close to the beauty of the palace.

  A sparkling white palace among the trees and vines. The surface glittered. It may not even have been white, for all the
colors in Radian seemed to be indescribable. White wasn’t just white, and blue glowed.

  The silver sheen of the moon cast an illuminating ghost upon the palace, among trees so tall that the highest peak of the tallest spire couldn’t peek out of the treetops. Glowing blue, silver, and violet flowers lined the palace base, and the glittering path leading up to it. The palace was built around the largest tree in the forest, stretching far above.

  In daylight the city was beautiful, but at night there wasn’t even a word to describe how breathtakingly gorgeous Drestia was.

  The center of the city was a Light Pool. A blue surface deeper than the sky, but lighter than the ocean, glowing like the flowers. Sparkles seemed to fly all around the pool, among the fairies that floated in the air at night. And that city was alive with travelers, elves, and children. The royal family would walk along the iridescent blue rivers.

  Eldowyn ran along the river. At night, there was a chill in the air, but it was never cold enough that they couldn’t wear just a tunic and pants with boots.

  Kepp had waited for the time to pounce, and he’d found it.

  Eldowyn landed on the ground with a thud. His thirteen-year-old body slammed against the emerald grass.

  “Ow.” He’d turned his head to see who was on top of him.

  Kepp’s hair nearly covered his eyes. His green tunic was dirty, and his black pants were the same, his boots covered in mud.

  “Hey.” He’d flashed his smile that everyone said belonged on a court jester.

  Clearly annoyed, Eldowyn had sighed. “Get off me, clot pole.” Eldowyn had pushed him off.

  Kepp had tumbled to the ground.

  Eldowyn stood, brushing himself off. “You are lucky father wasn’t here to see that, little brother. You know he hates it when you’re so dirty and play mindlessly.”

  Kepp had groaned, lying on the grass. “You think too much about what father will think, Eldowyn. Can’t you just have fun?” He’d looked up to see Eldowyn’s eyes roll and his twin turned.

  A smirk had slunk across Kepp’s lips. “Or are you chicken?”

  Eldowyn had stopped in his tracks. His fist growing tighter. “Chicken?” he’d repeated. He’d turned to him, brow furrowed. “Oh, we’ll see who’s chicken by the time I’m done with you.”

  Kepp had felt his face drop, but before he could run away, Eldowyn had lunged at him. He’d landed on top of him, but Kepp wasn’t about to give up.

  They’d grappled mindlessly, like the young boys they were, until they heard chuckling and stopped. Looking up, a girl stood, watching them.

  Her beautiful red hair fell to her waist. It complemented her blue eyes which were like sapphires, watching them so intensely. Her fair skin looked perfect like the stone of the palace and pink lips curled into a smile. A pale, pink dress fell to her feet.

  “Don’t you boys ever get tired of fighting?” she’d asked, arms crossed.

  Eldowyn and Kepp looked from her to each other, and quickly scrambled to stand up. They’d brushed themselves off, fixing their disheveled hair.

  “We-we weren’t fighting, Nalliah,” Eldowyn had stammered.

  “Yeah,” Kepp had chimed in. “We were just examining the…grass.” He and Eldowyn had winced in unison at his terrible excuse.

  She’d brought her hand to her hip, tucking a strand of her fiery hair behind her pointed ear.

  “Examining the grass, that’s a new one.”

  The three of them had looked to where the voice came from, as a girl of Nalliah’s age approached. Her green dress was almost the same color as the grass, and her dark brown hair was lifted in an up-do that seemed more complicated than the ancient texts Eldowyn and Kepp had to study. Her violet eyes glowed as bright as the flowers in the moonlight, and the purple gem on her forehead seemed to shine like silver.

  “Adriel, when did you get here?” Eldowyn had asked, sweat clinging to both his and Kepp’s necks.

  “I came to visit mother and my good friend Nalliah who I don’t get to see very often.” She’d turned to the other girl, and they embraced warmly. Adriel had looked back at them, her half-brothers.

  “How is Aiocille?” Kepp had asked.

  Eldowyn had elbowed him in the gut, making Kepp gasp.

  “Hey!” he’d yelled.

  Adriel had just rolled her eyes.

  “Father is fine. He’s working in the court of Eron’s king, so we are doing well for ourselves, since, well, we were banished from Radian. Mother must not like her past dwelling in her present.” Her words had held spite. Eldowyn and Kepp knew some of the story.

  As a young princess, Raea fell in love with the elf Aiocille and they had an affair, much to her mother and father’s dismay. Raea had a child—Adriel—and when Adriel was ten, she and her father were banished, so Raea could go through with the marriage to Lord Rowan.

  Apparently, she was never the same after he left. But she’d hidden her heartbreak well. Raea had become a wife and a mother of three, among them two princes, but no princess, since Adriel was illegitimate. She had been a bit cold at times, but never angry.

  “If you feel that way, why are you even here, sister?” Eldowyn had asked as Kepp blew a strand of his bangs from his eyes.

  In Adriel’s eyes held a hue of sadness Kepp had been familiar with but couldn’t place.

  “Because she is still my mother, and my father wants me to have a relationship with her, however small it may be. I suppose it’s important to him.” She’d looked down. “And I love my father more than anything so…I’m here.”

  The four of them had been quiet.

  Nalliah had quickly changed the subject. “The Eve is coming up. The Third Age will soon be upon us,” she’d said, probably desperate to lighten the mood but hiding her intentions well, though, Kepp had still recognized them.

  “Yes, it should be a big celebration, though, I will not be attending,” Adriel had said, a small smile on her lips that faded as soon as the sentence ended.

  Kepp had taken off his boot, shaking the dirt out.

  “And why not?” Eldowyn had inquired, visibly ignoring Kepp.

  “Because I will celebrate it in Eron, with my other family.” She’d smiled softly, happiness now in her eyes. “Father has met a lovely mortal woman. Her name is Katrina. She is so kind and makes father and I really happy. She might even become my stepmother.”

  Kepp had winced at the hope in that sentence, as if Adriel had wished all of them never existed.

  “That’s lovely, Adriel,” Nalliah had chimed in, breaking the hostile air that had settled between them.

  Kepp had still been busy cleaning out his boot.

  “Yes, it is.” Adriel’s whole body had hesitated for a moment, and Kepp had wished more than anything he could read her mind, but he wasn’t his brother.

  Something his father had never hesitated to tell him.

  “I met a man.”

  “Oh, Adriel! Who is he? What’s his name?” Nalliah had asked excitedly. And all at once they seemed to have forgotten about the twins.

  “Erreth. He’s so handsome and kind and brave.” She had swooned, like she wasn’t centuries old. “He’s a soldier in the Eronian army.” Her eyes had sparkled.

  Eldowyn had rolled his eyes and grabbed Kepp’s arm just as he put his boot on.

  “Whoa—okay!” Kepp had scrambled to not fall, walking slightly behind his brother. “Um, Eldowyn, are you all right?”

  “Our sister hates us and our mother!” Eldowyn had exclaimed when they were far enough away for him to let out his anger. “Why did mother have to have a stupid love affair with that Aiocille? And everyone knows that father was a second choice, so what does that make us?”

  “I suppose it makes you a second choice as well.”

  They’d turned at the familiar voice. In front of them, their father Rowan had stood, elegant in every sense of the word. Eldowyn never changed anything about his appearance as their father stood there, but Kepp straightened his back as board-like as pos
sible, sweat clinging to his brow.

  “Hello, boys.” Rowan quickly passed a glance to Kepp but returned his blue gaze to Eldowyn. “Son, shall we go to the library? I have a lesson planned for tonight.”

  Eldowyn had nodded, and they’d started walking away, Kepp following.

  Rowan had stopped, looking back at Kepp. “Um, Kepp, your uncle asked to see you.” Without another glance, Rowan had walked on, but Eldowyn had looked back. Kepp had hated it when his brother looked back, as if he was leaving him behind.

  He was.

  Eldowyn had turned to Rowan. “Father, I wish not to study tonight. I promised Kepp we’d watch the soldiers train.”

  Rowan had glanced at Kepp, contempt in his eyes. A short huff leaving his lips.

  “Very well, but you will not skip out on me tomorrow for your brother.”

  Kepp had winced at the spite as Rowan said “brother.”

  Eldowyn had nodded and scampered off toward Kepp. “Come on, let’s go.” He’d playfully grabbed his arm to bring him along but Kepp had twisted out of his grip.

  “No!” Kepp had exclaimed, anger bubbling inside him.

  Eldowyn had looked at him, clearly confused.

  “What do you mean? I missed out on a lesson with father to come along with you.”

  “Oh, and that’s such a shame!” Kepp had spat, the hostility in his voice looking like it surprised his brother.

  “Kepp, what—?”

  “I am so tired of coming in second. You can go off with father for all I care. I am second to him and second to you. I do not want your pity.” Kepp had been burning with rage as he turned from his brother.

  “Kepp. Stop!” Eldowyn had grabbed his arm, but Kepp had violently shaken his hand off.

  “Let go of me. You can’t possibly imagine how I feel right now, being an afterthought.” He’d shaken his head. “Just let go of me.” He’d stopped yelling, but the anger never drifted from his voice. Kepp had turned and stormed off. And Eldowyn had let him go.