Eye of the Tornado

by Kevin Domenic

  "Do not worry about your friend, Arus," Mateo told him. "He has a fiery spirit, but a good heart. As long as you do your best to steer him in the right direction, his eyes will open."

  "I will do my best," Arus said, bowing politely. "Thank you for your wisdom."

  Mateo stood before them with his back straight, and his voice resounded throughout the expanse of the Fourth Dimension. "The three of you have done well. The Blade of Kaleo is safe from mortal hands. As for the pieces of Lifestone, the Maker has entrusted them to your care. Guard them with your lives; placing them in the wrong hands would endanger the universe nearly as much as the Blade of Kaleo."

  "Thank you," Arus said again. "We shall do everything in our power to keep them safe."

  "Then, by the authority granted to me by the Maker Himself, I hereby grant you the right to enter the Fourth Dimension at will and to use this place as a sanctuary from evil whenever necessary. As for me, we shall part ways here. This is not my home, nor is this my body. My assignment here is completed as of this day, and I must return to serve my Lord. But fear not, for you shall never be alone. The Maker will be with you always. May His everlasting light shine on you from the heavens and keep you warm for all of eternity." As he spoke, he lifted his arms to the sky, and his body began to disintegrate, each particle converting to specks of light that rose higher and higher in a stream of white. The glow faded as it spiraled upward, thinning until the last sparkle of light had vanished into the sea of color high above the little floating islands.

  For a long time, Arus simply stared up at the rolling waves of pink as they blended together with the blues to create strips of purple between each segment of the sky. To have been a part of the battle that brought Kindel Thorus to his knees and restored order to the universe felt good, but to know that the Maker, creator of all things, the driving force behind life, and the mastermind of the Grand Design was pleased with his actions . . . Well, it was a feeling that couldn't be properly described with words. He only hoped that somehow, someway, Eaisan Lurei and Dayne Sheeth knew what their teachings had done for a boy who'd been tasked with saving the world.

  "Come," Damien said, putting hands on his and Kitreena's shoulders. "Now that we've recovered, and the sword is where it belongs, I think the people of Terranias deserve some sort of explanation."

  *******

  It was noonday when the Aeden transport set down on the path leading into Keroko Village. The sun was climbing toward its peak, and the village was bustling with activity. Royal Guards roamed the streets, fully armored and brandishing as many weapons as they could carry. Men and women alike dashed to and fro, lugging supplies and pushing wheelbarrows, carrying tools and delivering food. Recovery from the damage caused by Kindel's attack would most certainly take years, but all around people were smiling and laughing, working together amidst the chaos, no doubt thankful to be alive after having been brought so close to complete annihilation.

  And that was just what Arus could see through the gate.

  As he and his companions approached, the Royal Guardsmen crossed their pikes to block the way into the village. "No outsiders may be permitted into Keroko at this time," one of them said with a gruff voice. "The village has been ordered quarantined by Lord Sarathon until the cause of this destruction can be ascertained."

  "This is my home," Arus said calmly. "I have been away for a number of weeks, but I have returned to inspect the damage and see that my friends and family are all right."

  The soldier to the right laughed a bellowing laugh. "You are no citizen of this kingdom, boy!" he insisted, pointing toward the implant. "Machines are forbidden here, as they are across the entire kingdom. That marks you as an outsider, a foreigner. It was my understanding that machines were not tolerated in any portion of the world, but it would appear things have changed. It matters little, however. You will not pass."

  "If you please," Damien cut in, his voice sounding as diplomatic as possible, "we were present on the day that the storm hit. We would like to speak with the mayor of this village so that we might explain to him precisely what happened."

  Now both soldiers grew quiet, clearly taking their first good look at Damien. Eventually, one of them muttered something Arus wasn't sure they were meant to hear. "Where in the bloody world did he come from with skin lookin' like that?"

  "I am not from your planet," Damien admitted, though Arus knew he had wanted to avoid that subject. "I am a member of an interstellar army called the Aeden Alliance. Members of our faction are already within your village assisting with the recovery efforts. Were you not informed of this?"

  The shining helmets of both soldiers turned toward each other. There was whispering, this time far too quiet for Arus to hear. Kitreena heard it without any effort, he was sure. What are they saying? he asked her telepathically.

  They're talking about our men. Sounds like they were informed to be wary of anyone claiming to be a part of the Alliance. I think they're going to take us to see—

  "You will come with us," the guard on the right announced suddenly. "We will take you to the mayor. If you are who you say you are," he looked at Arus, "then someone should recognize you. If you are lying, you might just find yourselves on the business end of our pikes."

  "We mean you no harm, I assure you," Damien said with a bow. "Thank you, gentlemen. Lead on."

  The gasps and whispers started almost the instant they passed through the gate. The soldiers called for additional support, and soon there was a ring of Royal Guardsmen armed to the teeth escorting them through the streets. Familiar faces were everywhere, and eyes grew larger than plates when they fell upon Arus. His cheeks heated as he turned his own gaze to the ground, focusing only on following the guards. Whispers grew to murmurs, murmurs to shouts. Before long it seemed like the entire village was in an uproar, crowding around the cluster of soldiers as they entered Trader's Square. They weren't angry, precisely, but countless questions were shouted on top of one another, most directed toward Arus, though an occasional probing remark was sent in Damien's direction. Kitreena avoided most of the attention, likely due to the fact that she looked more like a human than her companions. Ironic, that.

  They moved into Trader's Square like a mob, a jumbled mass of people that crowded together around the newcomers so that the Royal Guardsmen were forced to push their way forward. Damien eyed Kitreena nervously, and her voice floated through Arus' head. This is not what I had expected.

  What did you want, a hero's welcome?

  Certainly not, but a chance to explain ourselves would be nice.

  We'll have that chance, don't worry. They don't seem angry, just confused. They want answers, and rightfully so.

  "What's going on here?" Mayor Randolf's voice squeaked behind the crowd. "Stand aside! Make way, I said! Let the Guardsmen do their jobs!" The swarm of villagers began to dissipate, though most seemed to be oblivious to the mayor's request. "Please, people, show some restraint!"

  Eventually, at least a dozen more Royal Guardsmen filtered through the mob and encircled the visitors. They managed to push the people back slowly, an inch here, a step there, while the inner ring of soldiers brought Arus and his friends to a standstill. Still more guards emerged through the crowd, and the people began receding at a quickened pace. It wasn't until there was an open circle of about fifty paces in the center of Trader's Square that Mayor Randolf appeared, dressed in his finest red coat and wearing green breeches too snug for a man of his rotund proportions. He wiped the bald swath across his head with a handkerchief before waving for the escort to step back so that he could speak with Arus, Damien, and Kitreena freely. "I am told that you are with the . . . What was it called? Aeden Alliance, is it?" he asked, peering up at Damien. The sunlight forced him to squint.

  "Yes, that's correct," the Zo'rhan responded. "My name is Damien, and I am captain of a vessel called the Refuge. Members of my crew should be here assisting you."

  "They're here," the mayor nodded, wiping his head again. "Said th
ey were from outer space. We didn't believe them, but there were people trapped all over the village, buried under debris, bleeding and dying, and we needed whatever help we could get. A good thing they showed up when they did, too. Sturdy boys, they are. Strong backs on them. Helped pull little Max from a crumbled house. And Master Baudin would've died if they hadn't dug him outta his cellar. And the ladies! I don't know what kind of medicine your people practice, but your medical women have cured people of ailments they've been suffering with for ages!"

  "Medicine is a bit more advanced within the interstellar community," Damien said with a smile. "I'm glad my people could be of service. Please understand, it was never our intention to interfere with your society, but the actions of Sartan Truce set a chain of events into motion that forced us to intervene."

  "Hello, Mayor." Arus bowed politely, forcing himself to keep eye contact despite Randolf's wary glare at the implant. "It has been too long."

  The mayor squinted again, this time examining the rest of Arus' face. "That hair," he muttered, scratching his chin. "Could it be? Dayne's boy?"

  Apparently his fiery hair was his most distinguishing feature. "That's right," he answered. "I'm Arus Sheeth."

  The old mayor's eyebrows squished together in a lopsided arc. "What happened to your head, boy? And your arm!"

  If he calls you "boy" again, I'm going to smack him.

  Arus shot a grin in Kitreena's direction before responding. "An unfortunate run-in with the Kyrosen, I'm afraid."

  "Kyrosen? What's the Kyrosen?"

  It had been a while. "The Vermilion Mages, I mean." The mention of the name sent gasps and moans rippling through the crowd. "Sartan Truce captured me, and I was forced to undergo an experiment which ended with a mechanical implant embedded within my skull. As for my arm, it was lost during a duel with Truce, and he replaced it with an artificial one." He raised his hand and flexed it to show that it was fully functional. "I was enslaved by the Mages, who are actually known across the universe as the Kyrosen, and forced to take part in an attack on Castle Asteria. It was there that Master Eaisan was killed."

  "We had heard of his death," Randolf said solemnly, "and many other stories from Cathymel, but we had dismissed most as little more than exaggerated rumors."

  Arus continued to explain everything from the assault on the castle to the battle with Kindel in Trader's Square. The mayor listened intently, wide-eyed more often than not, though an occasional lift of the eyebrows suggested he was skeptical of the story. How he could be in light of the destruction that had rained down upon the village was something Arus couldn't fathom, but then, coming from anyone else, the tale would've likely raised his own suspicions. "Every word I've told you is truth, I assure you. Many of the villagers saw Kindel before the storm hit. Ask Veran Lurei, she can verify that what I have told you is true."

  "Veran?" the mayor repeated, eyebrows reaching higher. Turning toward the crowd, he shouted for Vultrel's mother. "Veran Lurei! Are you here? Someone, please find—"

  Uh oh, we've got company.

  Just as Kitreena's words drifted through his head, a roar of wind swept over the Square. Arus looked up to see a Vezulian transport gliding overhead, the sunlight glaring against the wide forward viewport. Shrieks of terror rose over the mob amidst a sudden wave of nervous chatter. The implant's scanners read four life signs aboard, and judging from the girth of the pilot, it could only be one man. Relax, I think it's Muert. The Mage had proven to be a faithful and valuable ally during the fight, somehow raising enough resistance to topple Sartan Truce and assume command of the Kyrosen. He brought the transport down somewhere to the east; no doubt damage from the storm had cleared enough space for a ship to land.

  "One of your ships, Damien?" Randolf asked, watching as the transport sank out of view.

  "I'm afraid not," he muttered. "Arus?"

  "I think it's Muert. Maybe Muert and his family."

  "How many onboard?" Kitreena asked him.

  Arus suddenly became aware of a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew who the other passengers were. All of them. "Four." One of the life signs seemed to be an average adult, and another was clearly a small child. Muert had a wife and a daughter, so that explained three of the four. The last, however, appeared to represent the height and weight of a teenager, and judging from the physical build of the individual, Arus could only think of one person who could fit the description.

  "Are they enemies?" Randolf was asking Damien.

  "No. Not if it is Muert. He is an ally of ours. A friend."

  "I'm not so sure about all of his passengers, though," Arus said softly. Kitreena shot him a brief look that begged him to explain. "It's Vultrel, Kit. He's come back."

  Her mouth dropped open at the same time as Damien's head whipped around. "Are you sure?" they both asked.

  Randolf gave a puzzled look. "Eaisan's son? Are you sure? How can you know this?"

  "It's a bit complicated to explain," Arus told him. "But I don't think there is cause for alarm." He spoke the words as much for himself as for everyone else.

  The people to the east began to part, making way for the newcomers. Arus could see Muert's head above the sea of villagers long before they reached the ring of guardsmen that held the center of the Square open. A nod from Mayor Randolf signaled the soldiers to let the new arrivals pass, and Muert thanked them with a quick bow. A dark-haired woman followed, dressed in a long skirt of brown and wearing a white blouse embroidered with purple flowers. Keilan, no doubt. She held the hand of a little girl, whose dress of yellow seemed to glow in the sunlight. Black curls topped her head, and her smile could only be described as infectious. An adorable little thing, Arus thought. She had to be Sienna.

  And behind them, of course, came Vultrel. He seemed to deliberately avoid looking in Arus' direction as he stepped into the clearing, though he very blatantly made eye-contact with Damien before approaching the mayor. "Mayor Randolf," he began with a bow, "I'm sure you've heard rumors and stories by now, but we've come to formally announce the death of Sartan Truce and the end of the threat that his Vermilion Mages pressed upon us for so many years.

  That brought a boisterous shout from the citizens of Keroko. People hugged, hats were tossed, tears were shed. Muert grinned at Arus before stepping forward and kneeling at the mayor's feet. "My name is Muert Lodi. I come as a representative of the Kyrosen, the race of people you know as the Vermilion Mages. While I cannot turn back the gears of time and reverse what my former leader has done, I can promise to you that the Kyrosen will never again bring destruction upon this planet or your people so long as I am guiding their actions. Additionally, I would like to offer our assistance in the ongoing recovery efforts of your village as a symbol of our apologies."

  "Forgive me if I don't exactly trust you," Mayor Randolf began, "but I think we've got things under control here."

  Muert could've been offended by the rejection, but he seemed to take it well. "I understand," he nodded, returning to his feet. "In that case, we will be leaving your galaxy immediately in search of a quiet place to make a fresh start for our people."

  Randolf pursed his lips and nodded. "Perhaps that is best." It was a curt answer, but little else could be expected of a man whose village had been besieged by the Kyrosen for so long. Muert nodded in understanding and turned to Arus.

  "It is good to see that you have survived," he said before looking to Damien and Kitreena and adding, "all of you."

  Keilan stood to his left, beaming proudly at her husband. "So, these are the people you've spoken so highly of," she asked. "Greetings. My name is Keilan, and this is our precious daughter, Sienna."

  The little girl cowered behind her father's leg, barely tall enough to reach his knee. She peeked around with big eyes directed up at Damien. "Hello," she said softly. "I'm Sienna."

  "It is a pleasure to meet you, Sienna," Damien smiled back. "You are certainly as beautiful as your father said you were." Her face immediately flushed and she cowered
behind Muert's leg with a giggle.

  "I wanted to thank you again for everything you've done for us," Muert said, bowing to Damien. "The Aeden Alliance has shown mercy where anyone else would not. For that, we will be forever grateful. If you ever need anything from the Kyrosen, don't hesitate to let us know."

  "We are happy that we could be of service," Damien replied. "Don't discount your own accomplishments, Muert. By taking command of the Kyrosen, you helped to end the fighting and defeat one of the greatest threats to the universe. You've done well, and I know that the universe appreciates it."

  "I only did what—"

  "If you are all through patting each other's backs," Vultrel's harsh voice cut through, "I have some business of my own I'd like to attend to." He stood at the far side of the clearing, arms crossed, and back turned. His black tunic and pants were torn and frayed; it had clearly been a while since he'd had the opportunity to change.

  Muert leaned toward Arus' ear. "I'm sorry, Arus, but he demanded that we bring him along with us. Considering that I wasn't sure if we'd ever return here, I had to allow him the chance to return to his people."

  "It's all right," Arus assured him, patting his shoulder as he moved past the big man. "I'll handle it." Damien moved to follow, and then Kitreena, but Arus waved them back. "I'll take care of it," he said softly. "I have to set things right."

  Muert, Keilan, and Sienna lined up beside Damien and Kitreena as Arus moved toward the center of the ring. Mayor Randolf, perhaps uncomfortable by the tension in the air, stepped back as well, leaving Arus alone to face the young man he once called his best friend. He really wasn't sure what he was going to say, but when he opened his mouth, the words flowed. "Vultrel, I know that you blame me for everything that has happened to you. I know that you think I should've been stronger than I was. I know you think that it is my fault that your father died, and I know you think that you can never forgive me. But you've got to open your eyes, Vultrel. I was used by Sartan Truce, just as you were used by Kindel Thorus. We were nothing more than tools to them. The difference between us is that I refused succumb to the hateful way of thinking that nearly got me killed. Do you have any idea how hard it is to look at this bloody implant in the mirror? There was a huge part of me that wanted nothing more than to skewer Truce over and over and over again for what he did to me. To us. To our parents. To Keroko. But I knew that if I were to fall to that again, there was a good chance that I wouldn't walk away from our next encounter alive. So, rather than pursue him with a lust for vengeance, I turned my focus toward a more wholesome goal. That's what you need to do now, Vultrel. It's not too late. Turn away from your anger, abolish your hate, and fight beside me to stop people like Sartan Truce and Kindel Thorus from ever hurting anyone again!"