The Year of the Lumin

by Andrew Ryan Henke

  The axe fell, but did not strike down his target as he had expected. Grandel, having been freed from Kit’s control when Noir attacked, had come forward and blocked Noir’s swing with his sword. “No, Noir! Stop!”

  Noir was surprised and stunned. In Noir’s anger, he had not seen Grandel approach. “Stop! Kit doesn't deserve to die!” Grandel yelled over the thunderstorm around him. “I am a villain and he is right. He deserves his revenge.”

  Noir said, “But he killed Borm and Telfa, and tried to kill you!”

  “It does not matter. What I did to him was infinitely more atrocious. Release your lux hold on him.”

  Noir hesitated for a moment and brushed aside some of the wet hair that had fallen onto his forehead. Then he released the flow of lux that went into Kit’s mouth, but not what held his body.

  “What are you doing?” Kit said loudly over the thunderstorm.

  “You are right, Kit,” Grandel said as he turned to face him. “I deserve death or worse. And you deserve vengeance for your family. Release him, Noir. I will let him strike me down.”

  “I can’t do that. He's a Luxin. He’d….” Noir trailed off not knowing what to say. Then he remembered the necklace. He turned and said, “Ratt. Where’s the siphon necklace?”

  Ratt held up the necklace he had pulled off of Noir’s neck. “This?”

  “Yes, give it here.” Noir took it and walked forward to the scowling version of himself. “Grandel, I don’t know why you want to do this, but I can keep him from using lux.” Noir slid the necklace over Kit’s neck and held it in place with solidified air. Then he released the rest of the hold on Kit’s body.

  Kit stumbled and regained his footing. He immediately started pulling at the necklace, but his fingers stopped and hit an invisible barrier around it. Noir could see him using lux, but the yellow light from his use of lux went harmlessly into the siphon.

  Grandel said, “I am immeasurably sorrowful for the horrible things I did to you and your town.” Grandel stood with no defenses, sword held back. “Luxin Kit, I now allow you the opportunity to exact vengeance.” Kit yelled and flung himself forward. He swung Noir’s sword downward at Grandel’s chest. At the last moment, Grandel brought up his sword and stopped the blow. He added, “If you can.”

  ~~~

  Grandel and Kit fought ferociously, but Noir turned his attention to Telfa and Borm, who laid on the ground wounded. Noir reached Borm and knelt beside him in the mud. He was not moving and the two sword wounds went all the way through. Noir flowed lux into the man’s body but felt no response. The tissues and body were no longer alive. Noir cursed Kit and scrambled to where Telfa was laying.

  As Noir got close, he saw Telfa’s body slowly writhing in pain and shaking slightly, though he was conscious. Noir immediately made a second flow of lux separate from the one holding Kit’s necklace siphon in place and channeled it into the wound on the top of the man’s shoulder. Noir felt and understood through the lux the man’s injuries. He was very lucky. The blade had gone between the collar bone and shoulder blade missing any organs or arteries. Noir could feel the hole down through the man’s chest which severed the muscles connected to his shoulder. The cavity that the sword had made was filled with blood.

  Noir went to work healing the badly injured man. Behind him, Kit’s fury buffeted Grandel’s defenses. Blow after blow, Grandel deflected Kit’s advances. Grandel had fought more difficult foes, but the look of hatred on Kit's face wounded Grandel in a different way. It reminded him of his past and other faces of fear, hatred, and misunderstanding.

  Grandel remembered the young boy from years prior who was brought to him tied hand and foot and in tears. The first time their eyes met, Grandel had seen Kit’s hatred. He remembered it being so pure and immense that he could imagine it lasting a lifetime. How could he have been so dismissive of it for so many years?

  Noir continued to pour lux into Telfa’s wound. Telfa watched intently as Kit and Grandel parried and danced around each other. As Noir healed the tendon that attached his shoulder to his chest, a cry of triumph distracted him to the scene behind him. Grandel was on the ground with his sword between Kit’s blade and his chest. Kit was bearing down on him with obvious glee at his triumph. Noir stopped healing Telfa’s wounds and put up a light barrier between Grandel and Kit, pushing back Kit’s sword.

  Grandel yelled, “No, Noir! Don’t interfere!” Another swing of Kit’s sword came down and was blocked by another light barrier. Grandel looked directly at Noir with a mixture of emotions. “Noir! Leave me to my fate! That is an order!”

  Noir could not believe Grandel refused help. Noir wrestled with the decision. Before he could weigh the options fully, Kit’s sword came down. Noir could do nothing but quickly turn and look away. He could not witness the senseless slaughter of his friend and ally.

  Noir heard two quick clangs of weapons and waited for the sound of Kit’s sword cutting into Grandel’s flesh. But before it came, Noir heard the sound of a bow string being released, then the dull thump of an arrow burying itself into flesh. Noir looked up to see Telfa standing on one knee with his bow drawn.

  Noir quickly turned around to see the outcome. The man who looked exactly like Noir was standing over Grandel. The sword was held above his head in preparation for a death blow. However, his face was that of shock, not triumph. An arrow shaft stuck out of his chest. Noir looked at Telfa again. Surprisingly, he had a look of peacefulness.

  Noir’s golden hilted sword dropped loosely out of Kit’s hands and its tip stuck into the mud behind him. The man’s arms fell to the arrow in his chest and he stumbled away from Grandel groaning and wheezing. “You… I can’t… Grandel… I can’t fail. For too long have I…” Kit looked at Telfa and Noir in fear as if just remembering they were there, then turned and stumbled away as fast as he could. He called back as he ran, “Your day will… come Grandel. Your suffering at my hands is not over.”

  Telfa cocked another arrow and aimed it at the fleeing man. Grandel shouted, “No, Telfa. Let him go.” Telfa did not lower his weapon but looked at Grandel. “He has his freedom now. It is long overdue.”

  Grandel stood slowly and turned toward Telfa, ignoring the fleeing man. “I told Noir not to interfere!”

  Telfa coughed, “You didn't tell me.”

  “Why? Why would you help me after all I’ve done? After all the doubt and hate you have for me.”

  Telfa returned his bow to its place over his shoulder and held his half-healed shoulder. “Doubt, yes. Disagreements, yes. But hate, no. Any fool can see that you have tried your best to atone for your past transgressions. You have much good to bring to this world and you do not deserve death. I thought….” Telfa’s words were cut short by a loud groan of pain. With gritted teeth, he grabbed his arm and fell to his knees in the mud.

  Noir immediately ran over and grabbed the man’s shoulders to keep him up. He again flowed lux into the man’s partially healed wound.

  Grandel did not respond to Telfa. He stood watching where Kit had run off for a long time after Noir had finished healing Telfa. They did not disturb him. Instead, Noir told his story of what had happened in the gulch to Ratt and Telfa.

  After Noir’s story, the three heard the sounds of digging behind them. Grandel had started plowing at the ground with a sharp stone. They did not question Grandel’s decision to bury Borm. Noir figured it was just something that Grandel had to do; taking the body of his former soldier with them might just be too much for the man. All three got up from where they were sitting and went to help Grandel dig the grave.

  Chapter 25

  Sticky fingers

  Due to the recent events, the remaining four decided to rest for the night before continuing on. As the thunderstorm passed and gave way to clean, beautiful twilight, they outlined the grave with white stones they found nearby. Grandel spent the evening carving two wood branches with his dagger. At the head of the grave, Grandel put a vertical stick into the ground. The two sticks he had been carv
ing were attached together to form a “T” shape. It had two crudely carved wooden wings coming from a central pole. Ratt explained that it was the symbol of the Lumin.

  That night, they all slept uneasily. Noir found himself awake as the sun rose. He lay on his back and watched the sky change colors.

  Once the sun peaked over the horizon, Noir finally willed himself to get up. He stood and went to check on Telfa’s wound. Though the man slept deeply, he seemed to be in good health. The scar on his shoulder looked like it had been there for years.

  Grandel was also awake, sitting on the top of a rock formation nearby looking out to the east at the sunrise. With the others still asleep, Noir decided to go ask how Grandel was after the day before.

  Noir stepped onto the rocks, climbed up to where Grandel was sitting, and took a place next to him.

  “I deserve to die by his hands,” he said softly. There was silence for a moment. Noir said nothing. “I did not think my past could catch up to me so suddenly. When I was a boy growing up in Chiron, I saw the slaves. My father had a few. As a child, somehow I never thought that their lives could be any different. I figured they were there because they were criminals and somehow deserved that life. Later, when I joined the guard, I learned of the evils that had to take place to supply the kingdom with its servants. I took the stories to heart, vowing to stop those barbaric acts if I ever rose to power. But when I did…” he paused, still looking out toward the rising sun. “I was no better than those before me.”

  He turned and looked at Noir. “Despite my efforts and intentions, I was only known for killing. Grandel the Merciless, they called me.” He slammed his hand on the stone below him for punctuation as he said, “I saw the ones they brought in as slaves. I saw the ones who could take it and survive and the ones who would buckle from the tremendous strain. The only thing I could do was let the weak have the easy way out. Kit was one of the ones that I thought was strong enough to survive after those atrocities.” Grandel sighed. “Obviously I was wrong; it has destroyed him also.”

  He gave a long pause. Noir did not know what to say, so he just sat and watched the sky go through its progression of colors and listened. Eventually, Grandel said, “I’m sorry you went through what you did because of me and my past.”

  “I am fine. I am just worried about what he will do now.”

  Grandel was about to answer when Telfa approached. He was stretching the arm that was on his previously wounded side. He said, “Our friend Ratt isn’t much of a morning person. Should we wake him and be on our way?”

  Noir asked, “How is your wound?”

  Telfa held his palm to his shoulder and rubbed. “It feels fine. I feel a bit… rearranged inside. But I’m fine. If I hadn't said it yet, thank you, Luxin Noir.”

  “Yeah. I’m glad I could help.”

  Grandel stood and stretched. Then he said with a smile, “Let’s wake our obnoxious, sleepy, Tierian companion and go.”

  With some effort, they woke up Ratt. Then the four packed their things. They hoisted their sacks over their shoulders and continued on their way west, leaving the grave behind them. On the top of the last hill that they could still see the white rocks circling the grave, Grandel turned and looked at it for a long while before continuing on.

  Within a few miles, they came upon two of their horses who had fled the night before during the storm. They quickly attached their bags onto their saddles and led them on.

  Soon after mid-day, they found a road which led to the northwest. It seemed fairly well-trodden, with few plants breaking its dirt path. Grandel was certain it was the road that connected Hess’erabi and Aldine, the town to the south.

  There were few trees on the land. Most places had high grasses on the sides of the road. It reminded Noir of the museum prairie exhibit that Steven dragged him through a few years earlier on one of their family visits. Noir remembered Steven excitedly leading him, Aimee, Cindy, and the very young Casey through the museum. His uncle had not seemed to notice the near apathetic responses from all but Casey.

  Noir was startled out of his daydreaming when Telfa called out from ahead, “There’s someone coming.”

  Grandel replied, his words meant for the whole group, “Remember our story. Remember to use the false names. Don’t mention that Ratt is from Tier and we should be fine.”

  They walked on in silence and Noir saw a wooden carriage being drawn by two horses. Every free place on the carriage was covered in objects strapped to it or hanging from it.

  “It’s a traveling merchant. We don’t need anything, so let’s just let them pass.”

  As the carriage approached, Noir heard a voice call out from it. “Hello friends!” a man’s voice called. “Hello!” The horse and carriage turned sideways blocking the road. “Kind sirs,” he said as the group stopped. He stepped down from the top of the carriage. His dark hair was greased back and he wore fancier clothing than Noir had seen so far in this world. He smiled as he said, “Might I interest you gentlemen in some of my fine wares?” A man much larger than the merchant stepped from behind the carriage. He was dressed in plain clothes but wore an odd silver band tight around his neck. He had a strange, glossed-over look to his face, but he kept his eyes on the strangers.

  Grandel replied, “No, thank you. We do not need anything that you would have.”

  The man smiled larger. “Oh, but how do you know that for sure unless you have actually seen what I have?” He turned and pulled two ropes at the same time. Two side panels swung downward to display a surprisingly large collection of trinkets, clothing, weapons, and armor. “Feel free to take a look. Just ask me for prices.”

  Grandel started to say again, “No, thank….”

  Ratt interrupted him by saying, “I want to have a look. Don’t you N….?” Ratt caught himself before he said Noir’s true name. “Nile,” he corrected himself.

  Noir looked at Ratt and gave him a look as to imply the question, “Are you sure?” It was true that he was curious, but he did not want to go against what Grandel wanted.

  Ratt saw Noir’s expression and lied, “See? He wants to also. He’s just afraid to say it.”

  Grandel grunted and said nothing for a moment. He looked toward the clear sky and said, “We have plenty of time to reach Hess’erabi before sun down. Go ahead. I’ll scout out the land ahead. Meet up with me soon.” He grabbed one of the horses and led it around and behind the merchant’s cart before continuing up the road. Telfa stayed with Noir and Ratt, though he did not seem very interested in the merchandise.

  Ratt and Noir walked up to the cart. The merchant leaned against one of his horses and said, “Weapons and armor are on the other side. Food and supplies on the left, there. Enchants on the right.”

  “Enchants?” Noir asked.

  The merchant did a double take and looked at Noir with a surprised look. “You never heard of enchants before? You lived in the woods your whole life, boy?”

  Noir remembered what enchants were after he had already spoken. Fafnir had talked about them and Noir remembered skimming the chapter on them in his book The Three Vigors. Enchants were objects that permanently had the workings from one or more vigors attached to them. Once an object was enchanted, it became nearly unbreakable. The power to fuel it came from the chakra within anyone who touched the enchant, and everyone had at least a little chakra in them even if they couldn't use one of the three vigors.

  Noir tried to cover up his mistake. “Of course I know what enchants are. I’m just surprised you sell them.”

  The merchant cocked one eyebrow as if to say, “Is that so?” He said, “Just be careful. Some of them can be dangerous if you don’t know what you are doing.”

  Noir stepped up to the section displaying the enchants. He picked up a small stone enchant that was carved with flames. It had a small, darkly-colored mark where his thumb was. He pressed his thumb to the spot and suddenly a very small flame ignited from the top of the device. Noir likened it to a cigarette lighter from his ow
n world. He felt a very tiny amount of his chakra drained as the fire burned.

  “That’s an igniter,” the merchant said. “Very handy. It’s a well-crafted one too. Nice solid flame. I can’t let it go for less than fifty tali.”

  Ratt turned to Noir with a grin on his face. He said quietly, “I love bargaining. Leave this to me.” He grabbed the igniter from Noir’s hand and said defiantly, “This thing is a piece of junk and twenty tali would be too much for it.”

  The merchant smiled too, obviously enjoying the sport. “Prices like that would drive me out of business, son. I payed 30 for it myself. How about 40 tali?”

  Ratt tossed the igniter above his head, caught it behind his back, and brought it around in front of him again with a flourish. “35 and you have a deal, sir.”

  The man grimaced for a moment, then stuck out his hand. “Deal.” Ratt and the merchant shook hands. Ratt counted out the correct amount of tali from his pouch and handed it to the man. Noir had no idea how or where Ratt had gotten so many tali. He desperately hoped it was not money he had stolen somewhere. He accepted Ratt's tali with a smile and looked at them glowing in his hand to be sure. Once satisfied, he said, “Are you travelers interested in anything else?”

  Noir looked back at the enchants. He saw a few sizes of glow spheres and many other oddly shaped objects. Noir wanted to examine them further, but before he could say so, Ratt responded.

  “No, I think we have all we want.”

  Noir said, “Hang on, I want to…”

  Ratt cut him off. “The others are waiting for us. Come on.” Ratt had an odd look to his eye that told Noir he should listen. Noir followed him around behind the cart and up the path in the direction Grandel and Telfa had gone.