Resigned Fate

by West, Shay

  Saemus met their eyes for a brief moment before finding the floor again. Cynde Heath sucked in a breath. That desperate sound pierced Saemus to his very soul.

  Keera broke from the group and threw herself at the Heaths, trying to explain what had happened to their only child through her sobs. Bart Heath cried out in dismay as his wife crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

  Lily Meadows shouted for the new village Mystic. She knelt at Cynde’s side, reaching into her bag. In moments, the distraught mother was conscious again. Bart held his wife close, his tears falling on her rumpled hair. Cynde’s shrieking sobs echoed through the common room.

  After a few moments, Lily helped the Heaths to a table and brought them two short glasses full of amber liquid, insisting they drink it down swiftly. When it appeared they would argue, she towered over the pair and pushed the glasses closer. Bart gulped audibly and tossed back the glass, wincing as the whiskey burned its way down. Cynde quickly followed suit, pushing the glass toward Lily for a refill.

  “What happened to her?” Bart asked, grasping Keera’s hands tightly.

  “She died saving us all,” Keera whispered.

  Bart shook his head. “Ever since you ran off after Jon, there’s been nothing but secrets and danger surrounding all of you. I should have never let my little Gwen go along with the lot of you. She’d still be alive.”

  Keera’s head dropped with each word he spoke. She wished she could argue, but part if her wished none of them had come to train with Master Brok and that he had gone after Jon alone. Your destiny would have found you regardless. And Gwen.

  “It’s not that simple, Mr. Heath,” Saemus said.

  “Isn’t it?” The man’s red-rimmed eyes were lifeless.

  Saemus knelt down in front of Bart. “There’s more going on than you or anyone else realizes.”

  Bart waved Saemus away as he took another drink of whiskey. He glanced at each member of the group, accusation and pain filling his eyes.

  “Do you wish to stay here for the night? There’s plenty of room,” said Lily.

  Bart shook his head. “Thank you for the kind offer, but I think we should be heading home.”

  “I’ll send Wes along later with some supper for you. He’ll see to your livestock as well,” she held up a hand when Bart protested. “You need to grieve and see to one another, not bother with feeding or rubbing down the horses. Wes will take care of things until you’re ready. Mystic Laylee left this tea. It will help you sleep.”

  As the devastated couple walked slowly down the road toward their home, Saemus watched them, praying to the good Spirits to give them some peace this night. Bart kept his arm tight around his wife, helping her when her legs buckled underneath her, unable to withstand the weight of despair. When they passed out of sight, Saemus walked back into the common room.

  The group seated around the table was quiet, each lost in his or her own thoughts. Brad and Sloan gently held Kaelin and Keera, offering what comfort they could. Robert and Forka sat with furrowed brows, hands steepled under their chins. Jon sat at one end of the table, still part of the group, yet shrouded in solitude as though he were in a different room. Fa’ Vel and his men were the only ones missing. They had refused to stay in the village and instead had set up camp on the outskirts of town.

  Saemus wondered why the dark magician remained with the group. When he found out no one had a plan for stopping the Mekans, he had been angry, asking what it good it did for them to be Chosen if they couldn’t stop the threat. After that, he and his men had stayed away from the rest of the group, traveling behind them, refusing to stay in their camp or even share their food. Yet they had still insisted on staying close behind.

  The only person Fa’ Vel showed any interest in was Jon. When the dark mage was in the vicinity, he would stare at Jon, rubbing absently at his scar, mumbling to himself, always smirking. When Jon would meet his eyes, Fa’ Vel would often laugh and wander off, leaving the others to ponder his strange behavior.

  He still wants, or needs, something from us.

  ***

  “Your friends have arrived,” Rome announced as he marched toward the group sitting on the benches in the Village Green.

  Saemus stood and thanked the man.

  “Remember your promise.” Rome turned and strode away.

  Saemus winced. He had promised to tell the Village Leader everything that had transpired since they had last spoken. Now that the Volgons and Kromins had arrived, Saemus wished he could find some other excuse to put off telling the village leader the truth. It would be easier for them to believe this tale if the Mekans were close enough to see.

  Part of him felt guilty for thinking such a thing. If the Mekans were that close, it would mean their villages were in danger. The last thing he wanted for the people from Heart Stone, Oak Brook, or his own village of Willow Haven to have to face the metal monsters. They had no weapons to fight and wouldn’t last long against such an onslaught.

  Keera was the first to meet their comrades as they walked to the Village Green. “What happened on Volgon?”

  “The Mekans destroyed our world. There is no one left alive,” said Feeror.

  Keera’s gasp mingled with those of the rest of the group. “Oh no! What do we do? If the sound weapon won’t work, there’s nothing more we can do.”

  “I won’t stop fighting until I draw my last breath. Perhaps we should return to Gentra and look over the scrolls once more. There might be something we overlooked,” Feeror said, fingering the cloth tied once again around his upper arm.

  “We can’t leave our people here to fight alone,” Saemus said.

  “What good will it do if you stay? Do you have some secret weapon we don’t know about?” Voilor asked.

  “No, but the thought of leaving doesn’t feel right.”

  “The only way to save your world is to find a way to stop the Mekans. For that, we need to return to Gentra and read through the prophetic scrolls. It’s our only hope.”

  “Why do we all need to go?”

  Feeror and Saemus turned to face Sloan.

  “Why can’t just a few return to Gentra? It doesn’t take everyone to read through a few scrolls. The Kromins can make sure we keep in contact. And personally, I would rather return to Earth. We don’t know what is happening on my world. It could be destroyed as well, or the people could be fighting the Mekans as we speak,” Sloan said.

  “I have to agree with Sloan. The uncertainty is slowly driving me insane. The Jhinn could be fighting The Horde and the Cowboys, or the Mekans, or perhaps both. At the very least we need to warn them of what may be coming,” Robert said.

  Soon, everyone began talking at once, each voice trying to drown out the rest with their differing opinions. Tempers flared when it became obvious that no decision was going to be easy to make.

  “QUIET!” Saemus stared at the group now staring back at him with their mouths open. “This bickering is pointless. If anyone wishes to return home, then you can do so. If anyone wishes to stay here, they may do so. If anyone wishes to travel to Gentra, they may do so. It’s obvious we can’t stay together any longer. It isn’t fair to ask the Earthmen to stay and help us fight when their own world could be under attack. It isn’t fair to insist everyone return to Gentra”

  “So we are splitting up then?” Jon asked.

  “That’s the only fair thing to do. Everyone can go where they want to. I’m staying here,” said Saemus.

  “Me too. I can’t leave my family to face the Mekans alone,” Keera said.

  “I am staying too,” said Kaelin.

  Sloan, Brad, Robert, and Forka spoke in whispers. Sloan and Brad glanced often at Keera and Kaelin, their eyes cloaked in sadness.

  “We shall return to our Earth and warn the Jhinn,” Forka said.

  “Can’t you just use the Kromins to communicate with the people there?” Kaelin asked, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat.

  “The Jhinn would be much too frightened of a voi
ce suddenly appearing in their heads. You wanted to speak to your people in person. Can we not do the same?” Brad asked gently.

  “I just hate the idea of you leaving me here. It’s so unfair,” Kaelin whispered.

  “I will return as soon as I am able. But our people need us as much as yours need you.” Brad pulled Kaelin in close.

  “We Volgons will go to Gentra and read through the scrolls. The three of us won’t be that much help here, and perhaps we can find some answers,” Feeror said.

  “The Kromins should accompany you,” suggested Saemus.

  Feeror nodded. The Kromins did not require much sleep. They could read through the scrolls and perhaps find the answers much more quickly.

  “We will take two of them and leave one here with their ship. Before we go, we need to teach the villagers how to use the weapons. It won’t stop the Mekans but it will at least buy them some time,” Feeror said.

  Saemus sighed. “I only wish we had enough to arm every citizen of Astra.” He shook his head. No use wishing for things that could never be. “Contact the Kromins and tell them to make their way here. If the villagers see the telepaths and their ship, they will have to believe us about the Mekans,” said Saemus.

  Saemus ordered Keera and Kaelin to spread the word and have the villagers meet at the Village Green. As he waited, he paced, trying to gather his thoughts.

  I wish Morden were here.

  The old captain had been a source of strength for Saemus as he had struggled with being leader of the small group. Morden’s steadfastness and confidence had made Saemus feel as though Master Brok was still with them. But the Captain had left them in Faerow, wishing to return to his ship.

  There’s no one to lead but me.

  The villagers arrived at the Village Green. Saemus’ heart galloped in his chest and his mouth went dry. He quickly ran through several opening remarks in his mind, only to discard them as too unbelievable, too scary, or too difficult to understand.

  The arrival of the Kromins stopped his thoughts in his tracks. The ship gently coasted over the village, barely stirring up dust. The villagers screamed and huddled together in the Village Green. Some broke away and ran down the main road trying to get away from the strange object flying overhead.

  “Do not be afraid! They are our friends!” Saemus was surprised to hear his voice ringing out across the Village Green and beyond, clearly being aided by magic. The people that had been fleeing the area stopped when Saemus’ voice reached their ears.

  Saemus whirled and glared at Jon. “What are you doing?”

  “Helping you speak to the crowd. Unless you’d rather let them all flee in terror before they hear what you have to say?”

  “Fine. But use that filthy power sparingly.”

  Jon rolled his eyes and motioned for Saemus to speak.

  Saemus turned to face the crowd. “You must return and listen! We bring terrible news of a danger that threatens us all. But the ship you saw passing over carries something that may save us.”

  The villagers looked from Saemus to the strange silvery craft landing just outside of the village perimeter. Their eyes were full of fear, yet they didn’t run. Saemus felt a rush of pride. The people of Vis Rellisa hadn’t behaved nearly so bravely. These villagers have yet to set eyes on a Mekan.

  Saemus narrowed his eyes. The voice in his head sounded strangely like Fa’ Vel’s. But he couldn’t argue. The villagers had seen one small travel pod that meant them no harm. If they had seen a Mekan, terror and chaos would soon have followed.

  A woman’s scream pierced Saemus’ ears. The three Kromins walked sedately down the main road through Heart Stone, their long arms swinging at their sides. They stood next to Saemus, ignoring the shouts and pointing fingers of the villagers, many of whom had started to leave the Green.

  ”Please, don’t be afraid. They are here to help us,” said Saemus.

  “Help us?”

  “We ain’t never seen anything like them before!”

  “What was that thing that flew over us?”

  “Who are they?”

  “Why do they look so strange?”

  Saemus wanted to scream at them all to shut up. His frustration was building and would soon erupt.

  Easy. Remember how you all reacted when you first saw the portal?

  Rather than let his anger get the better of him, Saemus simply stood silently and waited for the din to die down.

  “You have all heard the rumors from travelers passing through the village. I wish I could tell you they are fabricated, that there is nothing to fear. But I cannot.

  “Danger is coming in the form of a monstrous enemy from a far-away place. They have come here to steal the metals and ore from deep beneath our feet. They will rip our world to pieces and destroy every living thing in the process. The Patriarchs have sent word to the people of Astra to leave and make for the Shadow Mountains. This is why there have been so many strangers. The Mekans came from the Blasted Lands. The Shadow Mountains are the furthest place from them.”

  Rome stepped forward, laying hands on the women and children, many of whom were crying. “Does this have to do with your disappearance all those years ago?”

  Saemus nodded. “Yes, very much so.” He sighed and took a calming breath. “Master Brok was from another world far from here. He was sent here to watch over and train us,” he pointed to Kaelin, Keera, and Jon. “The rings that appeared around the moons were his signal to take us to a special place, so that we might travel to his world and learn of the prophecy.”

  “Prophecy?” Rome asked.

  “Yes. It states that the Chosen are to fight the Mekans and save everyone in the galaxy.”

  “Galaxy?”

  Saemus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Never mind. I don’t have time to explain every detail. The Chosen are from four different worlds. These are also Chosen,” Saemus pointed to the Kromins. “They speak only using their minds.”

  --Show them-- Saemus said to the clone standing nearest to him.

  --Greetings--

  The villagers all gasped and huddled closer together. Rome licked his lips and crossed his arms over his chest. Saemus thought he detected a slight tremor.

  “They carry powerful weapons in their ship that we can use to fight the Mekans when they arrive.”

  “Maybe you’re mistaken about these Mekans. Maybe they will take what they wish and leave us alone,” Rome said.

  Saemus looked to Feeror and moved aside so the big warrior could speak.

  “My name is Feeror and I am a warrior from the planet Volgon. Our world was completely destroyed by the Mekan Fleet,” Feeror glanced at Voilor and Moylir, who nodded.

  “You are from somewhere else, like them?” Rome asked. “But you look like us.”

  Saemus interrupted. “There is so much we wish to tell you, but we don’t have time. We must show you how to use the weapons. The Mekans will be here soon and you must be ready to fight.”

  “We need volunteers to learn how to use these weapons,” Saemus said to the crowd.

  Several men came forward; fear filled their eyes, yet they were willing to learn how to use the rifles.

  “You don’t have the ability to charge these weapons. Practice only as much as you need,” Feeror said.

  Voilor and Moylir led several men into the forest to practice with the plasma rifles. The women didn’t want the children around the weapons while they were being fired. Saemus followed and watched the men. They were hesitant at first, holding the weapons as though they were some sort of dangerous beast that was ready to strike, but gaining confidence as their shots met their mark on the make-shift targets.

  Saemus walked back to the Village Green. The sun filtered through the trees and fat nectar bees buzzed around the multitude of flowers growing in the Green. Children chased each other and their laughter made Saemus smile.

  The reality of what was coming for them wiped the smile from his face and made bile rise up in his throat. He closed his eyes
, refusing to look on the innocent faces of those he loved.

  Dear Spirits, how can we stop what’s coming?

  ASTRA

  KEERA YAWNED AND STRETCHED, forcing her heavy lids to open. Part of her wanted to pull the blanket back up over her face and sleep for another hundred years, or at least until the mess with the Mekans was done.

  The mess will never be done unless we find a way to stop them. Or they kill everyone.

  She dragged herself out of bed and stood in front of the porcelain washbasin, putting off beginning the day for a few minutes more. After splashing some water on her face, she threw on a simple dress made of green wool, and ran a brush through her curly red hair before making her way to the kitchen.

  Her mother, Nyome, was sitting with Lily Meadows enjoying a cup of black. Keera swallowed hard. Her mother had aged twenty years since she’d last seen her. Her own red locks were flecked with grey and there were more wrinkles around her eyes.

  “Good morning. I thought you’d sleep the day away,” Lily said, giving Keera a warm smile.

  “Believe me, I wish I could.” Keera gave her mom a squeeze and sat down at the table.

  “Kaelin was here earlier. Her mother brought several bolts of cloth down from Willow Haven and she thought you two might find some time to make some new dresses. You’ve almost outgrown the ones you have,” Nyome said.

  Keera nodded. The dress she wore was tight around the bust and hips, but it was all she had that was clean and not full of holes. The clothes she had worn from the Blasted Lands had been thrown away. They were so stiff from weeks of sweat, dirt, and grime and so threadbare she was surprised they hadn’t fallen apart.

  “I’ll find her after breakfast,” Keera said.

  After a quick breakfast of bread and fruit, she went in search of Kaelin, and finally found her and her mother washing clothes.

  She bit her lip, fighting the temptation to turn and walk away before they spotted her. She loathed washing clothes almost as much as she loathed sewing them. I’ll end up with pale, wrinkled fingers.