The Winter Letter

by D. E. Stanley

  “It’s Will,” coughed Will, then everything went black. Will revived a moment later, jolted awake by hitting the ground. Jared now stood directly over him. From this angle he looked all black in front of the sun; a gloating shadow.

  “Oh no, you’re not dying that easy,” the shadow said.

  Will jerked himself up and started to speak fire words, but he was once again dangling in mid air before he could release his first syllable.

  “Enough of this,” Jared said, as he ripped the pendant from around Will’s neck and put it in his pocket. Will searched for his bag, which was on the ground a few feet away. “Where is the book?!” Jared screamed. The grip on Will’s throat loosened just enough so he could speak.

  “What book?” Will asked through the choking.

  “You know what book! The history of Baru, the Great Book entrusted to your father?! Do not play ignorant with me. I have searched this world and killed more people than you would like to know in search of it!” Jared was an inch from Will’s face, screaming.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I think you do. This is your last chance. I warn you, if you do not tell me where the book is you will join the hundreds I have killed before you. Believe me, I have no worries killing one boy. I have ripped entire villages apart.”

  Once again the grip loosened, but Will looked away in defiance. From the corner of his eye he could see Seth’s horsemen setting into place at the wood-line. He suddenly had an idea. He caught his breath and spoke. “It was you? You killed the parents of the orphans and took them to make them soldiers, didn’t you? You dressed up like the King’s men!”

  The choke hold tightened again and up Will rose until his feet were once again searching desperately for the ground. His lungs burned, begging for air. As he dangled he felt the invisible hand begin to get cold. Jared smirked and flipped his cloak around. It was the same kind as Gatnom had given him before they set out in search of the spy.

  “What is the saying in your world, even a devil can dress up like an angel of light? We’ve dressed up quite a few times over the years.” Jared’s cloak began to fade and soon it was a brownish yellow with the emblem of King Mel Masih on the back. “Creative, don’t you think? Now, this is your last chance. Tell me and you will die quickly.”

  Will felt lightheaded. This terrible piece of trash had killed his, Gatnom’s, and Wohie’s parents. There was no telling how many more he had orphaned. With weak arms he motioned for Jared to come closer. Jared leaned in slightly, keeping his hand ready to choke Will with magic if need be. Will looked Jared directly in the eyes. Jared waited expectantly. Will dangled.

  “The book. It is... It...”

  “Where?! Tell me!”

  “It’s...” Will’s voice got lower. Jared leaned in more. “It’s—” Will flung his head down as fast as he could, head-butting Jared hard in his already crooked nose. When Jared looked up his face was bloody. “Even if I knew I’d never tell you!” Will screamed.

  Instantly, the grip tightened and the cold returned. Will’s skin, impressed by the magic choking hand, turn red to purple, until the skin began to freeze and crack. If he would have had breath he would have screamed, but he could not, which made the pain all the worse. A clear, almost dry ice, smoke started to rise from his flesh into his panicked eyes, which were in the process of rolling back into his head. This was it. Will stopped fighting as the day faded. What would be, would be. So be it.

  Will suddenly felt himself hit the ground.

  “Jared, turn around,” said a deep voice from somewhere.

  Jared, who was shaking his hand like a flashlight that had run out of batteries, turned to see the dark spy, Lord Andrias, standing with his left hand lifted. Wohie was with him and Jabber was on her shoulder. She immediately ran over to Gatnom.

  “Is he okay?“ Will asked weakly.

  Wohie placed her face close to Gatnom’s. “He’s alive, but he’s hurt bad. He needs help. Oh Will, your neck!”

  “Oh, the great Lord Andrias,” Jared said, this time faking a smirk. “I have no quarrel with you, not yet anyway.”

  “If you have a quarrel with the boy then you have a quarrel with me.”

  “Dark Knight of Mel Masih, you are outnumbered and out maneuvered.”

  Andrias peered out from his black mask. “It seems it is only you, and that is not an advantage.”

  “CAPTAIN! NOW!” Jared screamed to his men in hiding.

  Nothing happened.

  “NOW!” Jared screamed again, this time louder.

  Slowly, Seth and his men walked out. They were not charging nor flanking, simply walking. Jared had always underestimated Seth and this time was no different. He and his men had made it to their position long before Jared had finished his little speech. Will’s plan had worked. In his arrogance Jared had forgotten that Seth, and all of those with him, had been orphaned by men dressed in the uniforms of King Mel Masih. They all had believed, up until this very moment, they were fighting the murderer of their parents. The horses stopped still. Seth dismounted and ran over to Wohie to help care for Gatnom. Andrias eyed the horsemen for a moment, then at the nod greeting of Seth he turned back to Jared.

  “Like I said, it seems it is only you, unless the trees are on your side.” Every tree in the area laughed. “You will orphan no more children after today, one way or another.”

  “I don’t need them to handle you,” snapped Jared.

  “Your pride is embarrassing. Surrender.”

  Jared’s eyes began to glow the same color red that had invaded his heart years ago. He took a step back and maneuvered into a magi battle stance, with his right hand over his own heart, and his left stretched towards Andrias.

  “Very well,” Andrias said. He bowed his head for a moment. When he lifted it, his eyes were blue and his fists were clenched. The first blow came from Jared, trying to get a quick shot for an early finish. Will and Wohie had to shield there eyes as Jared’s strange magic blasted at Andrias again and again and again. Andrias deflected each of the attacks with nothing more than the twitch of his right hand. The magic bounced away like a pinball hitting a flipper, flying high in the air and dissipating. Without even throwing a shielding spell Andrias began walking straight into the barrage. When Andrias was a few feet from Jared the attack ceased and Jared jumped high and backwards, landing near his spooked horse. He pulled a long straight sword from his saddle.

  “Your magic is ancient, but can you fight me hand to hand?” Jared said. Andrias reached behind, underneath the long black cloth wrapped around his waist. He pulled out a long straight sword of his own.

  Jared charged, running and screaming, and Andrias charged, floating and silent. With one hand each of them wielded their swords and with the other they fought hand to hand using every punch and combat magic known to Baru. Fire and lightning sparked from hands and swords, water swirled around the two, and the earth beneath them rippled as Jared threw everything he had at Andrias. Andrias stopped every physical attack with his free hand and stopped every magical attack with twitches of his fingers and mumbled magic words. The clanging of the swords clenched the teeth of all who watched. Jared slashed more and more wildly, but every time the swords met pain revealed itself in his eyes as he caught a jar that rattled him to his booted feet. Finally, after a few minutes Jared connected a punch strong enough to shatter a door. It landed with a pop, dead in the center of Andrias’s chest. Andrias stood unmoved. Jared grimaced. Even from where he lay Will could hear the bones in Jared’s hand shatter.

  Andrias spun and returned the punch, sending Jared flying backwards ten feet and crumbling to the ground. “Surrender,” Andrias commanded.

  Jared tried to stand, but could only make it to all fours. His eyes betrayed him, showing in spite of his fake grin, that he realized Andrias was only letting him fight so he wouldn’t die a coward. He could not win, and he knew it. He had underestimated the High Knight of Baru, or rather over estimated himself. It was over. There was only one thing l
eft to do: die, but not alone, not for Jared.

  “FIRE!” Jared screamed, pushing his last bit of strength into a blast aimed at Seth, Gatnom, Wohie, and Will. As he let it go he screamed words unworthy of repeating, and a wall of fire rolled towards the four young magi. Will and Wohie closed their eyes, but Seth did not. He swirled his arms, conjuring the strongest shield of protection he could muster.

  When the flame ceased and Wohie opened her eyes, her brother was crouched by her, surrounding her with his arms. His magical shield stood unchallenged. The fire had been only a short blast, dying almost as soon as it was born. When the smoke cleared, Andrias was slightly crouched in front of a stunned, hunched over Jared. Jared’s mouth was gaping wide. His hands gripped the hilt of Andrias’s saber, which was now buried deep in his chest. For a moment Jared’s eyes danced to the left and right, then without taking a step and without saying a word, he fell and was dead before he hit the ground.

  Andrias removed his saber from Jared’s body, cleaned its blade, and resheathed it. He walked over to where the four were sitting. “Well done, Captain,” he said to Seth. Seth nodded.

  “How did you find us?” Will asked.

  “Well, let’s just say a little bee buzzed it in my ear.”

  “I’m not a bee! I’m a butterbug!” Jabber said matter of factly, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

  “Good job, Jab.”

  Jabber smiled then jumped, startled by Wohie’s scream.

  “NO! NO! NO!”

  “What is it Ascena?” Seth asked. Wohie was staring at Gatnom, rocking back and forth.

  “He’s dead! He’s dead!” she screamed as she collapsed into her bothers arms. Will pulled himself closer to Gatnom. His chest wasn’t moving and the light was gone from his open eyes.

  “Gat! Gat! Wake up!” he screamed. He put his right hand on Gatnom’s chest, closed his eyes, and focused all of his thoughts on his friend. “Be Healed!” Nothing happened. Will didn’t even feel the heat of magic inside anymore. Will started to speak again, but before he did Andrias snatched his hand off of Gatnom’s open chest.

  “Stop.”

  “Why? I can heal him!” Will screamed weakly. He tried again, but again his hand was snatched away.

  “You have no carrier,” Andrias said through his mask. “Besides, that spell would kill you, especially in your condition. No mere man can bring someone back from the dead. In death, love is not enough, a power is required that no mortal magi has ever found. King’s dream of it, but die dreaming for it. It is the power of life, the power greater than any other.”

  Will dropped his head. Death was as final here as on earth. His parents, Gatnom, all gone. Wohie wailed loudly in her brother’s arms. Will wanted to join her, but no tears came, although he felt the sting of a million.

  “What do we do?” Will asked. “There has to be something.”

  “We go to the King.”

  Will, Seth, Wohie and all of Seth’s men turned and looked at Andrias at once. “What?” Seth asked.

  “There is only one in Baru with enough power to resurrect. That is King Mel Masih.”

  “But why would he help us?” Will asked.

  “Because he is the one who brought you here in the first place,” Andrias answered.

  There was rustling in the bushes beyond the clearing. Andrias turned as three Lions step out majestically. It was Tselem, Parah, and Radah: the Unfallen of Baru.

  “Tselem!” Andrias said. He seemed younger when he saw Tselem, like a child who sees his best friend.

  “Lord Andrias Shielder, it has been too long,” Tselem replied.

  “Since the war.”

  “It seems more war is approaching.”

  “I’m afraid the King says it is. We will need you.”

  “Then that is why we are here.” Tselem looked past Andrias and saw Gatnom.

  “We must get these three to the King,” Andrias said, answering Tselem’s silent question.

  “You are fast Lord Andrias, but we are faster across the plains,” Tselem suggested.

  Andrias nodded and with one arm scooped Gatnom up and set him on the back of the lead Lion. Wohie mounted to keep Gatnom steady. Will mounted Parah. Tselem looked at Radah, who then looked at Jabber and said, “Ride with me warrior Butterbug. I will need you.”

  Jabber hopped in between Radah’s ears and Radah shot out of the forest toward the city.

  “Radah will go ahead with Jabber and inform the Court of the King what has happened. With Jabber alone Radah will be able to prepare the way so we can get to the throne room quickly.”

  “Seth, are you coming?” Wohie asked her brother, through her sobs. “I’ll see you at the city, won’t I?”

  Seth stood and hugged his sister. “I will see you soon.”

  “Promise?”

  Seth nodded.

  At that Tselem and Parah began their run to the city. After they had broken the tree line Seth turned and looked down on Master Jared, who’s eyes held no light and body no spirit. “Lord Andrias? Please tell my sister I need some time to work things out. This is a lot to handle in one day.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “I don’t know, but I need some time to think.” Seth looked again at Jared. “And, I must bury my Master.”

  “That is honorable of you Captain.”

  “Do you think so? After all he has done.”

  “Even the heathen should be given respect. There are times for justice, and the King of All will see to it, but let us all hope we receive mercy on that day. Let us pray for it by giving it. Nothing is ever as simple as it seems. Even the evil inside of Jared had a father. I knew him when he was a boy, when his eyes were bright. Today, to see the last light fade from them is sad indeed. We can only pray that although he had to die today, tomorrow he will live.”

  Seth nodded. “Do you think my sister will understand?”

  “Everything has changed in only a moment. Take your time. I am sure Ascena will understand.”

  “What about the young William?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Seth looked to the ground. When he looked up his eyes were moist. “I helped Jared kill his parents.”

  Andrias looked at Seth hard. The muscles in his jaw tightened. “Let me speak to the King. He alone can heal such wounds.“

  Seth mounted his horse. “We’ll be back soon. You have my word,” he said.

  “And I believe it. You and your men ride well. We shall see you along the path.”

  “As we shall see you.”

  Seth began to trot off, but before he reached the wood line he turned. “Lord Andrias?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you for saving my sister.”

  Twenty Three

  The King

  Because Radah had gone ahead, Tselem and Parah did not have to stop for the gate; all way was given. At the speed of sound the Unfallen beasts traversed the old battlefield. They flew into the city, through the market streets, entered the inner district, crossed the moat, and entered the courtyard of the King. Waiting were attendants who took Will, Wohie, and Gatnom inside to clean their wounds. Gatnom lay limp and lifeless with black burns on his motionless chest, and every time Wohie accidentally caught a glimpse at his body new wails echoed from the walls. Eventually Mei quietly instructed some attendants to move Gatnom to another room. She had to hold Wohie back as the four men carried his body away.

  It was a terrible sight.

  Will’s neck throbbed, but there was something else happening, something beyond the pain of a burn, something beyond torture. It was like winter had froze his heart in mid beat. He could hardly stand, think, or see. His last drop of strength had faded with Gatnom’s eyes. He sat unmoving, as he had been in the hospital waiting area after his mother had died. He tried to catch his breath, but the air didn’t seem to go all the way down. The numbness burned too much to touch directly. Will had first met this feeling a few months before, but had gotten no more used to it. The numbness was
becoming him without his permission, swallowing William Wesley and leaving only a shell. He had found the bottom of hopelessness, and it was a dark place.

  One of the attendants placed her hand on Will’s shoulder. “The King has summoned you,” she said.

  Will stood and walked out. He was too weak to ask any more questions; whatever would happen, would happen. He followed the attendant through a tall corridor, passing, but not seeing, lines of massive stone warriors towering two at a time on each side of many windows staining the walls their colors. He saw, but did not know he was seeing. He walked, but did not know he was walking. They passed the guards, increasing in number as they grew closer to the King’s Hall, entered through two giant wooden double doors (which Will didn’t hear open), and stepped into the throne room. All Will saw were the cobblestones sliding beneath change to marble and then to crimson carpet. This is when he first looked up.

  The throne room was the size of a high school gymnasium with grooved columns falling out of the black-as-night ceiling, holding down the floor with their monolith strength. Will was standing on a carpet that cut the room in half as it led to a large stage. On the stage was a glass throne (so clear it almost looked transparent) and nothing else. Other than the strip of royal carpet, the rest of the floor was sandstone. Six chairs, three on each side of the strip of red carpet, sat empty, facing the throne.

  Wohie was standing at the bottom step of the stage clutching Gatnom’s hat with both hands. Will approached from behind, but neither spoke. A few minutes later the doors to the throne room opened and six men marched in carrying Gatnom’s corpse on their shoulders. They walked down the isle and laid the body long ways on the first step of the stage, directly in front of Will and Wohie. The image stabbed both of the young magi. Gatnom’s usually tanned skin was pale as death.

  “Please honor the entrance of the court of his majesty King Mel Masih!” echoed a voice from somewhere Will couldn’t see. “Master Thummim, protector of the Underland!” the voice announced. A short man with big ears walked from behind the stage and took his seat in one of the chairs facing the throne. The chair was too big for the size of his body. Will looked at Wohie in disbelief. She was looking at him already. “Lady Urim, protector of the Sea side of Sandaqua,” the voice called again. An image of Urim, the woman of the sea whom the three had met beneath Jared’s castle, appeared, floating above one of the small thrones. She was not physically there, but her image was unmistakable. “And last, Lord Andrias Shielder, highest protector of all of Baru!” Lord Andrias walked in, still wrapped in black from head to toe.