by D N Meinster
“For a millennia, kings and emperors and what have you were all mages. Some used their abilities to help their kingdoms prosper. Others preferred enslaving those they considered lesser. But no matter who ruled, they treated the powerless poorly and gave benefit to their fellow mages. It wasn’t until one man rallied the people against the mages that this reign of tyranny finally ended. It didn’t take magic, but charisma, for Lister Treatis to end the cycle and become king himself.”
M’dalla had heard this story before. She was surprised it survived in Terrastream, where there were no books to save it but only oral traditions.
“I am the most charismatic chief that has ever lived in Terrastream. I have united the tribes in order to make our kingdom as great as our ancestors always intended. But I knew magic was the greatest threat. King Treatis died at the hands of a vengeful mage. So I made sure that they would never be a threat to me.”
M’dalla wiggled and shook but couldn’t maneuver her way out of the golem’s hand.
“Anyone with magic is a threat, more so than rebels and ideologues. That’s why I hunted you lot when you arrived. You have magic. But you’re not a mage, are you?” Kahar moved his face so close to M’dalla that she could feel his hot breath. “You’re just a broken woman out for revenge.”
“I’m a Roamer,” she growled back. Her entire body ached as she futilely struggled against her captor. She could feel that flail still in her grasp; if only she was able to use it.
“You won’t be roaming anywhere for a while,” Kahar replied. “Normally I dispose of any non-magic interlopers. But I like your face. I know exactly where I’m going to put you.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
One Slight Leap
M’dalla had not returned by the time the sun set. The survivors of the clash with the Hunters were paralyzed by grief, sitting and thinking in silence while the fires that ate away Malaise Tracks died and left only glowing debris behind. They all knew there was a debate to be had about the next steps to take, but none were ready to start it.
Rikki and Doren sat in each other’s arms, newly appreciative that they were both alive and willing to ignore their earlier quarrel. They spoke in whispers as they filled in the details of the events the other had been absent for. Doren ran a finger through her hair when she told him how Kahar had taken it from her. And she gripped his hand tight when he told her that Slythe was a relative.
Loraya and Yayne sat next to each other at the edge of the unseen lands, staring out into the black and thinking of their lost family. They alternated between tears of depression and anger, but they didn’t stop weeping until the sky was as dark as Oblivion. Every now-and-then they would grab onto the other’s arms, both making sure they were still there and preventing them from getting up and joining their brothers and comrades by taking one slight leap forward.
Aros watched the pairs from afar, not sure if his presence would add any comfort or cause additional misery. He’d understand if they blamed him. Magenine may have told him where the Revolutionaries had gone off to, but he’d told them. How much of this was his fault?
The Goddess had remained silent as he wondered who was truly responsible for all this death. Why wouldn’t She speak to him like She had back in Kytheras? If She was willing to break her silence twice, why not keep breaking it?
“Please,” Aros muttered under his breath. He needed to know why She’d sent them to their doom. He had to understand what had caused Her to start communicating with him again. Were events playing in Neanthal’s favor? Was it inevitable that the Door would be opened?
“I’m sorry,” Magenine’s voice reached his ears. “I did not foresee what would become of them.”
Aros perked up, almost shocked that She was willing to answer and even apologize. “Why now?”
“You saw why,” She answered.
His dream of the Door. “Has Neanthal already won?”
“The longer you linger, the more hope fades.”
“No time,” Aros repeated Her words from before. So that’s what she had meant.
“Make haste or Ghumai will fall,” Magenine informed him. “And then my Bastion falls.”
All these warnings, but he needed directions. “Where do we go next?”
“Rikki will guide you,” She answered.
“Why don’t you?” Aros replied, almost getting angry with Her. She was the Goddess. She could see far more than any of them ever could.
“I make mistakes. But I believe in you, Aros Asilias. Just as Leidess did, and as she still does.”
After those words, the Goddess went quiet once more.
Aros gazed up into the newly revealed twinkling stars. Those shining specks had intensified as the twilight sun dimmed and disappeared. And though the moons were partially visible that night, it was the festering orange metal from Malaise Tracks that best lit the former battlefield.
He wished Magenine had sent Leidess to speak to him again rather than talking Herself. He spent so much of the little free time they had missing her. He wanted to see her again, even if she’d only be a specter; even if he couldn’t hold her or kiss her. Hearing her voice would soothe him in a way that Magenine’s did not. But it might also hurt him worse knowing that it was only temporary and that it might truly be the last time he ever did.
Yet what if that time in Faunli had been the last time?
Aros felt hollow again. His insides were torn and confused. Magenine had only started speaking to him because of Leidess. Now, She only spoke to him because She was afraid.
It was only when his eyes spotted lengthy green hair that both his mind and heart went calm.
She was still looking into Oblivion. Losing one person he loved was horrific, but he couldn’t imagine losing everyone he loved all at once. How was Loraya ever going to recover from that?
The shadow of a man with a staff appeared in front of what remained of Malaise Tracks. “Who’s hungry?” he called out.
Aros’ stomach grumbled as he picked himself up and headed toward Azzer.
“Kwee kwee!” Mr. Kwee whined, likely hungry as well.
For the first time in hours, everyone was back on their feet. Though their mission was urgent, they moved at a leisurely pace, weak from loss and the lack of meals.
“Lots of happy faces,” Azzer sarcastically opined as the remnants of the Revolutionaries gathered around him.
“Where’s the food?” Yayne asked, ignoring the remark.
Azzer’s channeling crystal flickered as he whipped his staff forward. A dining table faded into being before them. It was covered in a white cloth and stacked high with grapes and other assorted fruits, loaves of bread, crackers, and chocolate pastries. There were pitchers of water, bottles of wine, and mugs filled with morseltea and chocobrew. Six chairs arrived alongside each place setting, where glass plates and cups awaited use.
“Gathered from Terrastream, Faunli, and Kytheras,” Azzer told them. “No meats, in respect to our host kingdom. But I figured we could use a distraction, or at least eat away our sadness.”
Aros didn’t wait for further invitation before he sat down and started snatching at every substance that was within reach.
Seeing how much he was going for caused the others to hurry to a seat and fill up their plates. They ate without conversation at first, chomping down on their meals and gulping down whatever liquid they could get their hands on. However, the atmosphere of the arrangement along with the pleasant tastes soon had them all chittering and even laughing.
“I hope you didn’t steal all this,” Rikki remarked while her mouth was full.
“I’ll make sure he’s pardoned if he did,” Doren replied.
“Shouldn’t all the kingdoms have fed us this much?” Aros commented. Not even the Empress of Faunli had treated them to such a feast.
“The Bellish didn’t even want to let us sleep,” Rikki said, spitting out crumbs as she did.
“Kahar doesn’t even feed his loyalists this much,” Yayne said, alre
ady grabbing up thirds.
Loraya was the only one who refused to engage with anyone.
“What’s wrong?” Aros whispered to her from across the table.
“This feels too celebratory,” she said, unable to look him in the eye.
“Maybe,” Aros muttered. “But then, we did defeat the Hunters.”
Loraya finally gazed directly at him, giving him a half smile before returning to her meal.
Yayne nudged his sister. “Enjoy this. It could be our last meal.”
“Let’s not even talk about that until we’re done,” Doren insisted.
“Instead, how about I tell you about the Sinful Three?” Azzer said.
“Who?” Rikki asked.
“Neanthal’s most faithful sin mages. You won’t believe what they did to Amelia once.”
By the time Azzer’s story was done and the cheeky comments were already out there, the six of them were stuffed and exhausted. The battle, the heartache, and the plentiful food left them leaning in their chairs and ready to nod off.
Mr. Kwee, Ji-Ji, and Doren’s miwolf and mideer were left to devour the leftovers, which they did efficiently while knocking over the occasional glass and breaking multiple dishes. The pets poked at each other while they snacked on breads and fruits. In between their paltry courses, they chased each other and even tossed food at one another. Mr. Kwee was the worst offender.
“One more gift,” Azzer said as he rose from the table. He pointed his staff at an empty patch of land and six beds faded onto the field. “You two might not enjoy them, but I daresay the rest of us will.”
“Thank you, Azzer,” Doren stated, emphasizing each word.
Aros ran up to the Roamer and gave him a hug.
“Try them,” Aros told Yayne and Loraya as he made his way over.
Loraya watched as everyone but her and her brother snuggled onto their beds. Rikki and Doren wound up getting into the same one, and for a brief second, she imagined doing the same with Aros. But he was already asleep by the time she looked over to him.
After prodding the mattress and assessing its buoyancy, she curled up on top of it. Her body seemed to sink into its flexible material, which was both horrifying and cozy. It wasn’t long after she closed her eyes that she fell asleep.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hasty Decisions
Aros awoke convinced he was back home and in his own bed. It was only after he opened his eyes and saw a cloudy sky and not a ceiling that he realized that the entire journey hadn’t been a dream.
He glanced at the beds to his left and saw they were empty. After he saw the ones to his right were also vacant, he panicked and jumped from the mattress. Were they attacked in the middle of the night? Or did everyone abandon him?
Aros already had his clawblades in hand when he noticed his five companions gathered at the table Azzer had summoned the day before. They waved him over as they consumed the dark-orange apples piled at the center of the table.
“Appanges from Belliore,” Azzer stated as Aros sat down. “These I most definitely stole.”
Aros took one from the top of the pile and bit into it. Light orange juices immediately began to flow down from his lips. The taste was as sweet and refreshing as he remembered.
“It feels nice to have breakfast,” Doren said. The trio hadn’t had regular meals since they’d left Kytheras.
When Rikki finished the last bite of her appange, she said, “It’s time to discuss who’s coming with me. I assume you two are.” She turned toward Doren and then Aros.
“Magenine spoke again,” Aros stated. “She said we must make haste or Ghumai will fall to Neanthal.”
“That doesn’t sound like She wants us to overthrow Kahar,” Doren commented before quickly adding, “But I’m with you, if you’re going, Rikki.” He wasn’t about to allow them to be split up again.
“The Key must be in Valiant Keep,” Azzer said from the head of the table. “There’s no other place for us to go.”
“For you to go,” Yayne interrupted. “The Revolutionaries are no more. They died with Jemmy.”
“You have to be part of this,” Rikki told him. “It’s just an outsider’s coup without your involvement.”
Kahar was not going to be king any longer by the time she left Terrastream. But Rikki knew her actions would have consequences for the Streamers, particularly if she didn’t help fill a power vacuum that she was responsible for. The Revolutionaries were the only ones that could potentially chart a better path for the kingdom, even if there were only two of them left.
“Whatever we do, we cannot stay long,” Aros asserted. “The Goddess made that clear. The longer it takes to gather the Keys, the less chance we have at stopping Hatswick and Neanthal.”
“We’d still have to find and beat Hatswick to gather all the Keys,” Doren reminded him.
“Does he have Terrastream’s Key?” Rikki inquired.
“She didn’t say,” Aros answered.
“Either he has it or Kahar does,” Azzer said. “And given how we never spotted Hatswick in Terrastream, I’m still betting it’s in the keep.”
Doren was glad to hear Azzer’s theory. Part of him believed any upheaval should not involve them, even if Rikki fully intended to take down Kahar. But if they had to face the King no matter what, then it made it so much easier to keep his opinion to himself along the way. Their relationship was new and they’d already had one quarrel that led them going in separate directions. He didn’t want it to become a pattern.
“How big is the keep, exactly?” Doren inquired.
“All of Terrastream lives within its walls now,” Yayne answered. “Does that give you an idea?”
“It’s navigable for a mage,” Rikki asserted
She’d hadn’t much explored it after she’d escaped its bowels, but Rikki wasn’t going to let Yayne discourage any of them. She could shift. So could Azzer. And if Doren put on Slythe’s cloak, he’d be able to as well. That meant they could easily find Kahar and the Key, wherever they might be hiding.
“Those of us that can shift will locate our targets,” Rikki added. “The rest of you can follow.”
“What rest?” Yayne asked. “Me and my sister are not going with you.”
“That means me and Aros,” Doren stated.
“Are you not going to use Slythe’s cloak?” Rikki inquired.
Doren hadn’t even considered it. He’d rather just keep it locked away, unused. What if he damaged it? Or soiled it by some other means? It was a family heirloom. Then again, Rikki had no problem scarring her heirlooms. He gazed at her necklace and staff before meeting her eyes.
“Do you think it will fit over the armor?”
“If it can keep those creatures of yours in line, I’m sure it can hold onto you,” Azzer spat.
Doren slid his hand into a slot on the leg of his armor and pulled out the black-and-white cloak.
“He’d want you to use it,” Azzer reassured him.
“What happened to yours?” Doren asked.
“It got trashed at Valiant Keep,” Azzer recalled. “Didn’t even know it could be.” When he saw the look on Doren’s face, he added, “But don’t worry about it. Yim did that and he’s not around anymore.” He eyed Rikki.
“So the three of us will search the keep,” Rikki began.
“Don’t go assuming that,” Azzer said.
“Are you going after M’dalla?” Aros asked. He didn’t like that his friend had yet to return and worried that she’d joined her boyfriend in the Bastion in her quest for vengeance.
Azzer didn’t feel any obligation to M’dalla, despite that they were both Roamers. She’d chosen to go solo, and he had no reason to chase after her. Their mission was the Key, and the only way forward was to team up with Rikki and her friends and storm the keep. Of course, with so few numbers, their defeat was a predetermined outcome.
“I’ll be looking for allies,” Azzer replied. “We won’t win without some.”
“Aren’t
allies left,” Yayne belched. “Revolutionaries were the only ones left that weren’t Kahar loyalists.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Azzer responded.
“Do what you want,” Yayne spat.
“So it’s up to me and Doren to find the Key and Kahar?” Rikki asked, suddenly sounding skeptical of her own plan.
“Magenine!” Aros called out. If She could tell them exactly where to find their targets, then half their mission would already be a success.
All eyes focused on Aros as he shouted for the Goddess multiple times.
Aros shook his head after a minute. She wasn’t responding. “If She was so concerned about Neanthal, maybe She’d give us more than vague warnings.”
“Maybe She can’t,” Doren guessed, though he was unsure why the Goddess would have any limitations. But then, Neanthal was a threat to Her. Perhaps there was more to being a goddess than being immortal and all-knowing.
“Me and Doren will search while you find allies,” Rikki summed up what they’d settled on so far. “Aros, you get to—”
“Search for M’dalla,” he inserted. “If she’s not here, she’s probably in the keep somewhere. And neither of you will be looking for her.”
“Not what I was going to say.” Rikki sighed. “But I suppose it’s better than having you wait around.”
She was concerned about sending Aros off on his own in the heart of Kahar’s kingdom. It’s not that she doubted his ability, but all he had was Bellish armor to protect him. He could easily be overwhelmed by watchers or some other loyalists. There was no escaping the tight corners when he couldn’t shift.
Rikki’s eyes fell on Yayne and Loraya. “Are you two really going to sit this one out? Kahar will fall. I guarantee it.”
“Jemmy said the same,” Yayne growled. “But then I saw him fall, and everyone I ever cared about fall, right back there.” He pointed over his shoulder, toward Oblivion.
Loraya gazed back into the harsh blackness. Were the souls of her family trapped in there? Or had they joined all of their ancestors in the Bastion? It was impossible to know for certain.
There were only two Lettes left. On occasions like this, Streamers would oft look to the stars for answers. The elders would interpret the dazzling lights and plot them on their righteous course. Loraya had never learned how to read the sky. She only understood its beauty, not its message. Was there any Streamer alive who bothered to gaze upward? Or were they content trapped in their stone coffins, staring at bland walls for a lifetime?