Unexpectedly, a scowling warrior with a straight nose and muddy-colored hair lashed out his blade in a way I had no chance of dodging. His quickness was uncanny as it sliced my side, sending searing pain throughout my body. I cried out in anguish, but did a roll out of his reach.
I drew from the sun, ripping a burning ray through the little clouds and sent it blazing across their skin. They, too, cried out in pain, covering their eyes. This gave me a chance to run.
And run I did. But I was torn on whether to risk being caught once more by making my way back to the tree to help Rydan, or to keep following my instincts that were guiding me elsewhere. The desire to let the magnetism lead me was strong. Unbearably strong.
The Isil hunters chased me haphazardly as they clawed at their eyes, their feet tripping on things they couldn’t see. I had my own battle with running. Each step I took sent violent pain coursing to my extremities. Blood gushed from my wound, despite my efforts to contain it. I could feel the hot, sticky mess running down my legs and soaking my pants. There’d be no way I could help Rydan like this. No way I wouldn't get recaptured if I went back the way I had come. It was no use. I had to trust my instincts.
Dizziness began to overtake me, but I could not give up. If I stopped running now, they’d only catch me. The force that sucked me in grew little by little the more I followed it. I didn’t know what it was, but I knew I needed to get there.
“Stop!” I heard the hunters calling after me as they got left behind. I almost chuckled. Yeah, right. Dream on, buddy. Nothing was going to stop me from getting the heck away from them. Except, if I happened to pass out from the dangerous amount of blood loss I was experiencing at the moment. But I was determined to not let that happen.
My breaths grew harder to manage as I continued getting farther away, dodging in and out between trees, and eventually my steps began to slow. Panic overtook me unexpectedly as a rush of memories of when I had been in the car crash with Zaylie hit me like a wrecking ball. I fell to the ground frozen as the visions played in my mind; the terror over her well-being gushed through me like a torrent—as if I were right back in Seth’s car and it happened all over again. Déjà vu.
I turned those moments over in my mind. The way it smelled of burnt tires and anti-freeze, the sound of glass crunching from any slight movement. The pain of not knowing if she was okay—The despair of not being able to reach her.
The regret. The guilt.
The knowledge that I loved her as a person, a teacher, a close friend—as one of my best friends—but never had taken the chance to tell her. I had been too stupid, refusing to let her in when I should have. I had realized then that I would’ve done anything to make sure she was all right. Given anything to secure it.
And then the relief, overwhelming and euphoric, after Mycah had healed her…I needed to feel that again. Just like my moment of clarity back then, nothing was any different today. I would still do anything for her. But she was gone.
My eyes burned. I bit down hard on my lip, arguing with myself to give in to the heartache as I made myself stand up again. It was torture. My uncontrollable onslaught of memories seduced my heart to surrender; to yield to the reality that I fought so hard to not accept. No, I couldn’t let them catch me. I had to keep moving.
Closing my eyes, I willed the memories of Zaylie applying makeup to my face to cease. But it wasn’t working. With each labored step that I took, I was flooded with thoughts of Zaylie’s smile and laugh, her face inches from mine as she ran a mascara brush through my lashes, intent on making me look dazzling for the homecoming dance. My mind bounced from her giggling on her bed, surrounded by gobs and gobs of different nail polish and blushes, to her spinning in my room with delight over her handiwork on my hair.
My heart hurt. It literally ached with guilt and longing. I could see her busting out in laughter from knocking a bottle of polish remover all over her bedspread. I almost laughed myself at the memories, but the feeling was immediately replaced by grief. She had been the first to teach me how to use makeup, and I hadn’t used any since before I left for Luïnil. Any time I did, I always thought of her and her little tips and tricks to bring out my natural features. It was impossible for her to not come to mind every instance I held mascara up to my eyes, or a lip conditioner to my lips.
She was everywhere. I couldn’t escape her memory. And it wasn’t that I wanted to, but at the same time I wanted to remember those moments with happiness and fondness. Not sadness because she was taken too early. I wanted her to be alive and well, while looking back on our time spent together as if we could do it all again tomorrow. Watching her head get pierced through-and-through with a bullet really put a damper on everything I held dear in my heart.
The land was extensive and spacious. I tried to focus on where I was going and my surroundings. A massive, dense, and dark forest loomed ahead. I jogged to it in hopes to completely lose the hunters who most certainly were still after me.
My footsteps were once more light and made no sound as I ran, just like I had noticed the first time I had entered Luïnil. Coming to one of the giant trees, I started to slide against it but stopped myself. Gazing around, I noticed that the trunks were all covered in a dark moss-type texture. I could hear things moving and crawling, but I couldn’t see them.
Despite all that, I wasn’t afraid. I felt in tune with this forest and this land. I didn’t need to grow up here to feel protected by it—to love it. It was in my blood. Just within the very first second of being here, I had already connected to the lifeblood of the realm. I was like a grain of sand rejoining the ocean. It was just where I belonged, and I could feel the puzzle I fit into just by being near the people in my kingdom—my kin.
While I had been here earlier, before escaping through the tree, the blood that pumped inside me almost felt like it had a life of its own. The Tavas’Elda blood had fueled my emotions of vengeance toward the Isil’Elda, and my Isil’Elda blood had mourned the deaths I caused. It had taken over my cognition completely—a blood war that raged right inside my body. But when I had been back in the Earthly realm, I barely felt any of that at all. I didn’t feel an overwhelming amount of emotions or hatred toward any particular elda race. I felt human. I felt...back to normal. Now that I was in Luïnil again, those emotions were tamed when I didn’t have my kin being slaughtered right before my eyes. I almost felt normal here, too. But the awareness—the elda DNA that had been awoken inside of me—only lay dormant. It would not be silenced for long.
The bad part of this dormancy was that I now had distance from my actions, and without anyone around to talk to or distract my thoughts, they immediately went to my mistakes. And that meant I could look back with unclouded eyes at every single thing I had done while I had been in Sarqua’s custody and the battles that transpired afterward.
I felt sick to my stomach.
All that flashed through my mind was—I killed people. I killed Mycah’s people. Rydan’s people. My father’s people...my people. Even after I found out that they were my kin, I continued to kill them.
Oh, my god.
I grabbed onto a large tree to gain some balance and hopefully regain my composure. I didn’t know what to do. Thoughts of Rydan entered my mind, and I wished more than anything he were here. I just needed him. He wouldn’t say anything, and I wouldn’t want him to, either. I needed him to just hold me the way he did whenever I was upset and needed to think. It was what I desired more than anything in this moment. No speaking, because talking would be the last thing on my mind. How could I voice out loud what I had done?
Closing my eyes tight, I imagined he was here with me as I leaned my forehead on the surface of the rough tree bark. Worry over his safety gnawed at me. My hands were balled into fists on either side of my face, blocking out any light from my eyes. Please be okay. It was probably a good thing I was alone at this point, since I knew I looked like a crazy person lately, but crap. How did a person deal with this kind of thing? Someone forgot to give me
the manual on how to be an elf while in the middle of a war.
I stayed in this position for a few minutes, until finally I turned my head to the side, staring ahead in wide-eyed shock but not actually seeing anything. There was no way to explain my behavior; I knew that, so I was a little thankful no one witnessed this meltdown of mine. I cleared my throat, but it didn’t do much to help take away the pain of my murderous actions combined with the fear over my best friend in the entire universe.
But I just needed a moment. If I didn’t mourn my actions now, then how could I learn from them? I buried my face in my hands for a few more seconds, chastising myself for being so weak. If I let death get to me the way that it did, then there would be no surviving by the end of this. I knew it. And yet, I couldn’t seem to get over what I had done.
Mycah might’ve been right about me. The deaths I was responsible for would crush me. But it wouldn’t be today. I wouldn’t let it. Not when I had Mycah, Rydan, Naminé, and Ender to think about and be strong for. So I reluctantly let go of the tree and dusted myself off emotionally, mentally, and physically.
As I continued on my way, the pain in my side where the Night Elf’s blade had cut did not let up. It only seemed to increase with each passing minute, and especially with every slight movement my body made. It was sickening and excruciating. Not to mention I was dying of thirst and food. I had no idea how much time had passed, but the forest I trudged through grew darker.
I thought of Mycah, but I really didn’t want to. It was agonizing not knowing if he was okay, on top of being separated from him like this. I knew he was out in this land somewhere, under the very same dusk sky as I was, and I prayed he was safe.
My chest tightened as the Isil soldier’s words replayed in my mind, “…even if Remycah were to live out the day.” That very line would haunt me. He sounded so confident that Mycah would get caught, and I knew if he did, Ohtar would more than likely want him killed on sight.
I shook my head, hating that my thoughts were taking me into such dangerous territory. I shouldn’t think of it, or anything about Mycah, because I knew it would lead to thoughts of hopelessness. Eventually, and a lot sooner than I’d like to admit to, it would lead my mind back to those bad things I wished more than anything I could forget. And I couldn’t give in to such despair. I had to be strong.
My eyes drooped heavily. I needed to sleep, but where? There was no way of knowing how far away the hunters were, or if some other creature would find me. Then, as if on cue, a rustling sound sent my blood racing through my veins and my heart crashing against my chest.
I rushed to hide behind a tree and held my breath. I didn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t seen first by whatever it was that was out there. A large, red bird let out a screech as it came bursting out of a nearby bush, sending me jumping into the air. I clutched at my racing heart, scared half to death. Stupid bird. Obviously, that was what made the rustling sound. Nothing to be afraid of. I stepped around the tree cautiously to verify that notion was correct, and immediately regretted it.
Black shadows zoomed at my face, racing in and out around my body, striking randomly wherever they might. I broke out into a run in an attempt to free myself from their onslaught, but it did no good. Slices of stinging pain riddled my body as I tumbled through the forest. I tripped over something and landed on my hands and knees, right in the middle of a huge fluff of fog. The evil shadows that appeared to be in the shape of bats darted everywhere there was emptiness, creeping in the spaces between my legs, arms, and around my head. Their high-pitched screeching made my blood curdle.
I’d had enough.
Letting out my own kind of battle yell, I drew from the sun I knew to be setting behind the horizon somewhere and wrenched it through the thick mist that had rolled in. A shrill cry of pain pierced my ears as the rays burnt the shadows away.
Labored breaths wheezing in and out of my lungs was the only noise I could hear as I trained my ears to pick up any other sort of danger that could be out there. I couldn’t see through the thickness of the fog. I crawled on my hands and knees, feeling the ground for a clear path. The signal in my heart that led me onward throbbed stronger and was my only indication that I went the right way.
Suddenly, those nasty shadows came whizzing back, cutting across my body like razorblades. They swarmed my head like flies, but much peskier.
“Get off me!” I swatted them away but it was no use. My hand gestures and meaningless attacks went right through them like there was nothing there. I wanted to keep moving, but a big part of me was more afraid of slipping off the edge into a big hole in the ground that I couldn’t see through the mist than the damage these filthy vermin could inflict.
I ducked in and out of their reach as I blasted the ones scattered around my legs with an invisible burst of energy. Regret flared in my gut, because I instantly felt drained of strength. I only had so much stamina left, and expelling it like that was dangerous. I lifted my other hand and commanded the wind to bend to my will, trapping the flying creatures in a tiny cyclone of gusts along with the dense fog.
They screeched and cried as I spun the whirlwind faster, then sent it soaring into the trunk of a tree across the way. It crashed against the mighty bark in an explosion of black and grey matter, dissolving into nothingness.
Exhaling a long breath, I stood up shakily and winced. The lacerations the shadowy-bats inflicted, coupled with the bleeding wound in my torso, burned in such a way I had to hold back vomit. I dragged my feet to move one after the other over the darkened soil as I reached from tree trunk to tree trunk, propelling my body to just get to the next without falling flat on my face.
Dirt was caked in my hair and underneath my fingernails, but worse than that, in my wounds. It mixed with the blood I was losing and formed a thick, gritty paste. My body flinched from the throbbing agony that pulsed with each pump of my heart.
Was I dying? I wasn’t sure how much longer I could last like this. How much blood could my system tolerate losing? I needed to rest. My feet refused to carry me another step further as my head swam sluggishly. My vision blurred, and my hands automatically searched for the next tree to grab onto. Once I found it, I carefully put my back to the bark and slid down to the ground in a bloody heap, my eyes closing.
Darkness crept over my mind. It slithered in the recesses of my subconsciousness, hooking its sharp claws in the loops of my memories. A death song—a requiem—chanted dark, deep, but faint throughout my mind. The deep, bass-like timbre reverberated through my system like a melodic accusation. It taunted me.
It slowly escalated from weak to strong the more my waking consciousness tried to ignore it. But it would not be denied.
Shouts of pain echoed in time with the bass of the melody. Bloody faces twisted in anguish flashed to the beat of a drum. Regret. Guilt. Remorse. Sorrow. A nice concoction of the worst self-flagellating emotions flowed in like it was high-tide on an already swollen sea during a flood. It was the elves I had killed—The deaths that I had caused.
My eyes snapped open from a crushing attack on my lungs, waking me from my nightmare. I couldn’t breathe. Literally this time, not figuratively because of Mycah’s hot accent or some other silly reason. I was having an actual anxiety attack as I clutched both the ground and my chest out of desperation for oxygen. The requiem only grew louder, drowning out any other sound. My ears had to be bleeding, and I was sure there were veins popping out of my forehead, pulsing in tune with the music.
My sole focus was on breathing again.
I realized I lay on the ground, so I maneuvered myself into a sitting position and pulled my legs to my chest, then lowered my head in between my knees. My weakened body practically screamed in pain from this position, but I was in no mind to pay attention either way. Barely I felt the scratch of bark on my back, or the hard ground beneath my feet. There was no other noise to be heard except the deep melody I had playing involuntarily in my head.
Slowly, I made myself
focus on the air that hung around my face, just begging to be let into my burning lungs. Breathe. Just breathe, Nari. My lips formed the shape of an O, as if sucking on an invisible straw. Oxygen drew into my mouth and over my tongue, and I focused on this one thing alone. It became soothing, and after more passing moments, my breathing gradually became easier. The death song quieted just as gradually until I could no longer hear it, and instead, Rydan’s deep tenor calling my name flitted into my eardrums. But I knew it was only my imagination.
I was utterly alone.
Chapter Four
~Naminé~
The unfamiliar land of the Earthly realm was troubling and quite uncomfortable. Not only was the oxygen sullied, but the sun itself was thin and distant. It was completely opposite from the welcoming energy Luïnil offered into the atmosphere. Here, it felt…terribly empty. Calen trembled beneath my fingertips, much like my own body’s reaction to the cold.
Rydan knelt at Lómë’s side, stroking her fur lovingly. “Is she going to be okay?”
“She is badly injured, but I cannot answer that, Rydan.” I took his hand gently into my own, caressing his knuckles for comfort. “Every Fëa has unfathomable strength and sturdiness. I do believe she shall recover.”
“What about you? Are you okay?” He stretched his free hand up to my wounded head, examining the damage I had taken. My heart skipped at the way his eyes assessed my well-being.
“Yes, I am fine. You need not worry for me.” I smiled softly to reassure him. The sweetness and concern in his voice would be a memory sure to replay often in my mind once all was well.
“And you?” Rydan stepped over to Ender, and then slowly knelt before him. “That looks really bad. Are you putting pressure on it? Here.”
Rydan ripped the end of his shirt and pressed it against Ender’s wound. Ender replied, “I will live with a bit of elven medicine.”
The Sweet Series Box Set: Books 1-4 Page 65