Rhydian: The Other Side

by Devan Skyles

  Auram landed behind him, completely out of breath. “You know, with all the aerial combat drills they put us through in the Fleet, you’d think I’d be in better shape by now.”

  Rhydian looked over his shoulder as he advanced into the cave. “Don’t worry. You can’t be expected to compete against raw, natural talent,” he teased.

  Auram ducked into the opening after him. “Rhydian, this better not be some kind of a joke. You know I don’t do well in tight spaces.”

  Rhydian placed his hands on the craggy rock walls to steady himself through the darkness, until at last his path was illuminated by the cool blue glow of his timekeeper, indicating that the threshold was indeed still there.

  Auram bumped into Rhydian’s back and gave an irritated grunt. “How did you even find this place? Are you sure there’s a threshold—”

  “Look,” he interrupted, showing him the timekeeper.

  Auram shrugged, “Well, okay. Lead the way then.”

  The two stepped into the pulsing energy of the threshold and felt the changes overcome them. Finally, they pushed their way up through the bushes on the other side. Auram brushed himself off and looked around. He had only been to the human side a handful of times. Military personnel were occasionally put on ilïmbalm details, where they would go through in groups to collect the vital resource. This had become a more common practice as the ilïmbalm shortage progressed. But most private citizens were still not permitted to cross through.

  Rhydian pointed out the nearby house, which seemed closer in the daylight than it had the previous night.

  He then eagerly led him toward the stream. The air was rich with the aromas of nature and the sounds of songbirds and woodpeckers permeated the woods around them.

  Auram was exasperated by the sheer lack of regulation and authority. At a normal threshold, there were strict rules about who traveled through, how frequently, and for how long. They also only let a certain number through at a time, so as to maintain discretion on the other side.

  “Do you suppose this is a naturally occurring gateway?” Auram pondered.

  “Naturally occurring?” Rhydian replied.

  “Well, sure,” Auram explained, “I mean they all used to be naturally occurring until we developed the technology to control where we wanted them.”

  “That was hundreds of years ago,” Rhydian retorted. “The Gatemaker’s Guild would never just lose track of one.”

  “You sure about that?” he joked. “Some of those guys are getting pretty old.”

  They both laughed at the joke. Rhydian had heard about the rigors and difficulties of becoming a Gatemaker. It was a highly regarded profession, the kind every mother wanted their child to pursue. But it took years of discipline and training to achieve. Some people apprenticed under Gatemakers for as long as ten years.

  “In any case,” Auram continued, “let’s just enjoy the freedom while we can. And if they shut it down later, at least we had a little fun, right?”

  “And free Ilïmbalm,” Rhydian remarked.

  They had reached the stream and Rhydian opened up the cap on his big wineskin. He walked right up to the water’s edge and plunged in.

  “Must be nice to get wet without having to dry your feathers,” Auram said, and he cannonballed in after him, making as big a splash as he could. When he surfaced, he began gulping down as much of the stream’s contents as he could.

  “What are you doing?” Rhydian questioned.

  Auram stopped and looked at his friend incredulously. “Well, if this stuff is as good as you say it is, I intend to be completely full of it when we cross back through to our side.”

  Rhydian laughed. Ilïmbalm, if taken in excess, could have an intoxicating effect, a fact he knew Auram was perfectly well aware of. He shook his head and filled his wineskin till it was bulging. It weighed several pounds, but he knew the extra weight would be well worth the trouble. Auram also filled his bottle. They splashed around for a while and had fun before getting out to explore the area.

  “So, who lives in that house?” Auram asked.

  Rhydian shrugged. “I haven’t seen anyone.”

  “Want to find out?” Auram asked with a mischievous grin.

  “You are going to get us in trouble,” Rhydian laughed.

  “We can just get close enough to see how they live,” he reasoned. “What’s the harm anyway? We look human.”

  “What if they don’t like visitors?”

  But it was too late. Auram was already working his way at a brisk pace toward the little house in the clearing. Rhydian hesitated for a moment, then ran to catch up. Auram got within a stone’s throw of the porch before a large animal on a chain stood up and gave a loud series of angry barks. The two friends, startled, both instinctively jumped into the air and attempted to fly away, which of course they couldn’t. Not knowing what else to do, they dashed behind a row of bushes near the edge of the yard and ducked down to hide.

  Just then a voice came from within the house. “What now?” The screen door swung open and a girl, a little younger that Rhydian, stepped out onto the porch. “I thought I told you not to come back—” she stopped and looked around, confused, “—here.”

  Rhydian peered through the hedges at the girl. She had a delicate frame and auburn hair that spilled down her shoulders like a cascade of shiny, liquid copper. Even from a distance he saw her brilliant green eyes glint in the late afternoon sun, and a faint touch of freckles peppered her nose. She wore a short sleeved, button down blouse and a pair of boot-cut jeans with riding boots.

  Rhydian couldn’t help but stare. Despite the odd human apparel and lack of wings, she was remarkably beautiful. He had never before considered that he could see a human girl as beautiful, but here he was transfixed.

  “Hey,” Auram whispered, nudging him in the ribs and breaking his gaze, “What kind of animal is that?”

  Rhydian peeked again through the bushes. The girl was now kneeling by the creature, rubbing its ears and praising it for a good job “protecting her.” The animal, in returned, opened its mouth and let its tongue loll out in a blissful pant.

  “I think it’s called a dog,” Rhydian speculated, “but it’s hard to tell. Humans call a lot of animals dogs, but they all seem to look different.”

  “How do they know they’re all dogs then?” he inquired. Rhydian just shrugged his shoulders in ignorance and directed his gaze back toward the girl. He couldn’t help but wonder who she was.

  Flight

  Ellie Bower swept her long, auburn hair behind her ear and glanced around the property. All was quiet but the dog’s barking. The sun was dipping low in the sky and the cicadas were buzzing in the tall grasses between the house and the tree line.

  She knelt to calm the irate dog, grabbing him by the ears and rubbing the sides of his face. “Good boy, Ruger! You do such a good job protecting me. Yes you do.” The dog instantly calmed down and happily lapped up the love and attention he was offered. “I’ll bet you’re hungry, aren’t you, boy.”

  She took Ruger by the collar and brought him into the house, taking one last cautious glance around before closing the door. She scooped dry dog food into a metal bowl on the kitchen floor while the excited dog licked his chops in anticipation. “Go eat, Ruger,” she said. Ruger immediately obeyed.

  Ellie dropped on the couch in the living room. The place was tidy and organized, except for the coffee table, which was scattered with photos of various exotic locations around the world. Many of the pictures she had taken herself, but others depicted her partaking in different adventures; mountain biking in Kenya, zip lining down a volcano in Maui, camping in South America. Her favorite images, though, were the ones taken from the air, usually in an aircraft or hot air baloon. She had always felt a connection to the sky.

  She reached down and pulled a particular photograph from the middle of the pile, one depicting her, a few years younger, and her parents. They were all on horseback at the edge of the Grand Canyon. Her father was a hands
ome man with a bushy mustache and thick arms, while her mom was slighter of figure with short, blonde hair. People told her she resembled her mother, but she saw more of herself in her father. She sat fondly reminiscing over the joyous times they’d shared, then sighed and gently placed the picture on the top of the pile.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a buzzing vibration in her pocket. She pulled out her phone and breathed an exasperated sigh upon seeing the caller ID. She answered the call with a curt, “I told you to stop calling me, Desmond,” and then promptly hung up. ‘Is he ever going to stop calling?’ she wondered. She was so tired of the endless games. She’d been so taken with him at first, but after so long the ‘attentive boyfriend’ act revealed itself as nothing more than a controlling obsession.

  She resolved to put him out of her mind for the night, and by morning she was excited for the day. While many people dread the rigors of the daily grind, Ellie spent every waking hour looking forward to being back at work. It was a weekend, which meant a lot of tourists.

  She quickly showered and dressed, brushing her hair in the mirror by the door. She then let Ruger outside and poured an ample amount of food into his bowl for the day. Humming as she went, she hopped into her old blue pickup and started the engine. It wined a few times as she turned the key, but after pumping the gas pedal a few times the engine roared to life. As soon as it did she shifted into reverse. Desmond would have said she had to let it warm up first. She shook her head in defiance, again putting the thought of him out of her mind and backed down the driveway, the sound of gravel crunching beneath the tires.

  Driving down the dirt road into town, she rolled down the windows and turned up the radio, singing along and letting the wind whip through her hair. Before long, she pulled into the quaint little town of Clearbrook, nestled in the trees. Most of the houses were historical Victorian homes, many of which sat along the steep bank of the river that cut diagonally through town. She drove down Main Street, passing several tourist shops and museums, and then the little old whitewashed chapel that now served as the police station.

  When she reached the outskirts on the far side of town she pulled up to a shabby garage with a big, dirt parking lot. Across the front of the structure was painteds in bold, bright colors: Bower Skydiving Adventure. There were already several cars parked on the dirt lot and several anxious tourists waiting for someone to arrive.

  Ellie pressed a remote button that was clipped the driver’s side visor and the garage door rolled up noisily. She pulled in beside a pair of big passenger vans with logos on the sides matching that on the building and put the truck in park. She then got out and climbed into the nearest passenger van, pulling it out to where the tourists were waiting.

  Leaning out the window, she called out enthusiastically, “You guys ready to go to the drop zone?” The response was a mix of excitement and nervousness. One woman was as white as a sheet and trembling while her husband tried to convince her that she would be fine. There was also a group of obnoxious teenage boys noisily speculating who would be too chicken to jump.

  Ultimately, everyone climbed aboard the van. When everyone was settled in, Ellie drove back behind the big garage and drove up a private dirt road. The van bounced around a bit over the rocky terrain and the mood inside was of tense anticipation. They all talked amongst one another, wondering what the experience would be like. One man in his twenties was bragging to everyone about how many times he’d jumped out of an airplane before, and how it was no big deal to him now. ‘There’s always one,” Ellie thought with an amused scoff. The teenagers were still picking on each other loudly.

  One woman, realizing that Ellie was not engaged in any conversation, leaned forward and asked, “So, have you worked here long?” It was a question she got a lot.

  “I actually started the company two years ago with my parents,” she replied. The woman’s eyebrows rose in surprise and her jaw dropped slightly, a reaction Ellie was also use to.

  “Well that’s very impressive!” the woman replied. “They must be very proud of you.”

  A twinge of pain tugged at Ellie’s heart. “I’m sure they would be. They passed away last year.”

  There were several expressions from the group now of reverent sympathy, which Ellie could hardly bear, so she attempted to lighten the mood by brightly announcing, “They didn’t die skydiving though, so no worries!”

  A couple of people feigned amusement. The nervous woman became even paler.

  “So,” the woman continued, “Will you be jumping with us today?”

  “Not today,” she replied. “I’m gonna’ be flying.” At this news the teenagers went silent for the first time.

  A man near the back inquired, “Aren’t you too young to be a pilot?”

  A number of sarcastic replies crossed through Ellie’s mind, but she said instead, “I look younger than I am. Besides, I’ve been flying since I was a kid. I got my pilot’s license before I even had my license to drive.”

  After ten minutes on the dirt road, Ellie parked the van in front of a large airplane hangar at the edge of a wide, grassy field. The side door of the van slid open and the anxious passengers spilled out. She directed them into a portable building alongside the hanger to fill out forms and receive instructions. In the meantime, she walked out onto the field, where a twin prop Otter airplane painted with red, white, and blue stripes, sat waiting to be flown.

  Carefully inspecting the aircraft’s engines was a young man with dark skin and long hair in numerous tiny braids, multi-colored beads at the end of each one. He wore a green jumpsuit with the top pulled down, the sleeves tied around his waist. He also wore a white t-shirt with the Bower Skydiving Adventure logo on it.

  “Hey Benji,” Ellie said. “What are you doing to my bird?”

  Benji turned and smiled, “Hey, Elliot! Just making sure she’s all set to fly.”

  Ellie hated when people used her whole first name, but Benji was such a sweet, charismatic guy, and she never had the heart to correct him. “How was your day off?”

  “It was all right,” he replied with a coy grin, “but it would have been better with a little company.”

  He had, on occasion, ventured good-natured attempts at asking Ellie out, but she always found a reason to politely decline. It had become something of a casual routine for them.

  “Benji, you know I’m still getting past this thing with… you know,” Ellie said uncomfortably.

  “Girl, what have I always said? That boy never done nothin’ to deserve you!” he retorted.

  “I know,” she said fondly, touching him on the arm. “That’s sweet.”

  “Well, if you ever change your mind…” he gave her a wink and let the sentence hang there.

  “You’d better go help prepare the new group,” she said with a smile. “Some of them seem pretty nervous.”

  Benji, always the joker, came to attention and gave a formal salute. “You got it, boss!” He did an abrupt about face and ran to the portable building shouting, “Okay! Who am I going to get killed today?”

  Over the next few minutes, as she inspected the outside of the aircraft, Ellie heard boisterous fits of laughter from the tourists inside the building. She chuckled to herself. Half the reason she’d hired Benji was for his personality. He was always making people laugh.

  Ellie climbed into the left side of the cockpit and primed the engine. She placed her feet on the pedals, testing the rudder and brakes. A thrill rushed through her. No matter how many times she did it, she always felt a rush of excitement climbing into an aircraft. She primed the ignition and flipped on the power. “Clear!” she shouted out the window, and she fired up the engines. They sputtered for a moment and then the propellers on the wings whirred to life. She let off the breaks and maneuvered the plane onto the open, green field, steering with her feet on the rudder pedals. There she let the plane idle and set the parking break to relax.

  After a while, the tourists and instructors exited the building and made their
way onto the field. At the forefront of the group was Benji, jogging up enthusiastically with his hands in the air, hyping up the crowd. His jumpsuit was zipped up to the neck now and he was harnessed up with a parachute. If it weren’t for his casual hair style, he’d have looked just like a military fighter pilot.

  He climbed aboard the plane through the side door near the back of the craft, followed closely by the others. He hopped right up to the front of the plane and stood, slightly hunched, in the middle of the little fuselage. When everyone had climbed aboard and the door was secured he addressed the group.

  “Okay everybody!” He announced, clapping his hands together, “Welcome aboard Air Death Wish! Y’all are nuts, but I’ve done this over nine-hundred times, so I guess that makes me at least eight-hundred ninety-nine times crazier. My name is Benjamin McBride and I’ll be your stewardess for this flight. Don’t ask for cocktails or none of that, ‘cause we need you guys sober! The emergency exit is the same way you just came in, but don’t worry, you’re not gonna’ need it till we’re about two miles up in the air. Flying for us today is the most beautiful pilot in Colorado, the lovely miss Elliot Bower. Never fear, you’re in very capable hands!” He turned around and addressed Ellie directly, but still loud enough for everyone to hear, “You’ve only crashed what, three, four times?” The passengers laughed. “I’m just kidding, y’all! She just started flying yesterday. She’s really good, though! ”

  Before long Benji had all the passengers in a great mood, all accept the nervous woman, whose husband was still trying to comfort her.

  Benji sat down next to the woman and told her, “Hey, don’t worry. You’re jumping with me. I’m gonna’ take good care of you.”

  The woman didn’t seem to take comfort in this. “What if the chute doesn’t open?”