by Jasmine Walt
The first of the many firsts. She exchanges her sandals for her streamlined running shoes. It seems a lifetime ago when she had left home on Java similarly dressed. The journey had turned out to be a crossing that had taken her to the other side of herself, forcing her to explore parts she had not known existed, to acknowledge who she really is. It is only fitting that these silent objects be her only companions on her last journey.
She goes to the desk where she has placed her sword. In a habitual gesture, she pulls it out of its leather casing, as if to reassure herself that the blade is still sharp, and runs her thumb over the single red ruby, which glows dully within the design of the eye in the hilt.
You’ve been through a lot with me, a lifetime of adventures, of love and betrayal. Through your eyes I have seen my future and cheated destiny many a time. Don’t fail me now.
Overcome by a strange emotion she cannot explain, perhaps seeking a time when she was more innocent, when the sword was more of an accessory to be worn with pride, when it had been more a badge of confidence rather than a device of destruction, she snaps it back in the scabbard and secures it across her back. She looks at the talwar Yudi handed to her earlier.
After securing the sword belt in place, she slips her new weapon into it. The two swords weigh her down. It’s probably ridiculous to carry every single weapon I have. This time, she does not trust fate to fall into place, to provide the footsteps to her future. This time, she knows this is her destiny.
She thinks with regret of Artemis, who has been her faithful companion on the journey so far. She would have much preferred to have travelled in the safety of her shadow. But if she wants to retain the element of surprise, she must go it alone. In a moment of weakness, she decides to go by where Artemis is docked on her space-pod for a final goodbye.
She makes almost no noise, her running shoes muffling her footsteps as she jogs across the corridor and down the steps to the floor below. Yet, she slows down near Mimir’s chambers, and taking no chances, straightens up on tiptoe to walk past the closed door. Their voices come through the door and she is thankful that they are still deep in discussion, then she continues down the two remaining floors, and breaks into a run once she is on the grounds, taking the path toward the docking stations to the far end of the Academy, where Artemis is resting.
Artemis’ lights flicker on as she comes close and touches her hull. She makes a noise, which sounds suspiciously like a purr to Tiina.
“You are not a cat, you know! You are a lean, mean, fighting machine, right?”
Artemis’ engines rev in response to the compliment. The sound feels really loud in the still of dawn.
“Shhh!” Tiina pats Artemis on her side, and putting her cheek to the wall of the spaceship, says, “I have come to say goodbye. You don’t have a say in this. You can’t come with me. This is something I have to do on my own.” She moves back and places both hands on the ship. “You understand, right?”
All the lights die as Artemis shuts down, going completely quiet.
“Right?” she emphasises.
This time there is no response.
“Okay! Well be like that, then.”
With a heavy heart, she turns to leave. There is a slight squeak from behind her. She whirls around to find that a single pink light has come on at the very front of Artemis’ round hull. She runs back in delight and hugs the ship.
“Thanks! I couldn’t have left with you angry with me. I have to go.”
Still looking at her friend, she takes a few steps back. Then with a final glance up to where she can see the light in Mimir’s chambers, she breaks into a run toward where the grounds give way to the Arkana River. On reaching the banks, she presses the flying activator on the right sleeve of her suit and springs into the air, then arcs over the river and climbs higher, so that within a few minutes, she is almost touching the low-hanging clouds before she begins the downward descent toward the Temple of Arkana on the next hill.
She clenches her fists as much to keep her courage steady as to still her heartbeat. The anticipation of the fight and the upcoming encounter flood her system, almost making her feel faint.
She aims for the largest tent of those pitched next to the Temple, sure it is Shaitan’s. As she nears it, she sees the flag fluttering at its apex. She just has enough time to take in its distinctive five pointed quincunx design before crashing through the upper covering of the tent.
32
Mimir is worried about Tiina. It is unusual of her to have cut and run when they had been in the midst of discussing her obsession, Shaitan.
Something isn’t right. He expected her to be at the forefront of leading a possible quick attack on Shaitan. So why did she leave? His mind is only half on Yudi’s reply to his earlier question, and he looks out of the window and sees Tiina leave the docking stations, running toward the river.
“Yes, let’s leave at first light,” he agrees, wondering if he should share what he has just seen with Yudi. In better judgment, Mimir decides against it. You don’t want to deliver the boy straight into the devil’s hands.
“I’ll alert Garuda and the Bird Men,” agrees Yudi. “Is everything fine, Mimir? Don’t worry; we will not fail you.”
No, I know you will not, but it’s what comes before that worries me. Mimir offers a weak, forced smile. “I know, Yudi. Go on then, we don’t have much time.”
As soon as the door has closed behind Yudi, Mimir transports quick as lightning to where Artemis is hovering at the ready. As he appears in front of her, Artemis’ lights flick on. He places his hands against her walls.
“Tell me!” So saying, he closes his eyes and sees the earlier scene unfold as Artemis plays it back for him.
Mimir opens his eyes. “Yes, I am going after her. No you can’t come, you have to stay here for Yudi…no! You don’t have a choice!”
Artemis sighs, all her lights shutting down as she sags an inch closer to the ground.
“I am sorry. I know how much you love her.” His tone softens. “But that’s why I am going after her, and you need to stay behind. Someone has to be in charge, right?” A faint smile lights his lips as a couple of Artemis’ lights, white and purple, flash on at the front of her hull.
Without another word, Mimir vanishes.
Tiina lands on the balls of her feet with just enough presence of mind to bend her legs, keeping them tightly together, as she moves into a forward position. She collapses her legs, tucks her head under her arms, and rolls over onto her back. Her elbows splay out in front to cushion her head from impact as much as possible.
The adrenaline pumping in her blood protects her from all feeling. She recovers, springing back onto her feet lightly, this time keeping them apart and bending them slightly, taking guard. The talwar is heavy as she pulls it from her belt and extends it in front of her, taking care to keep her elbows close
“Relax!” Her breath whistles out as she takes in her surroundings. On this side of the rectangular tent, she is almost alone. Her eyes dart from left to right, finding a large bed on the far side. It is rectangular in shape, mirroring the tent, and piled with mattresses. The shape of a body moves under the covers.
The sound of her own laboured breathing echoes in her ears as she tries to calm herself. It seems unbelievable that she has actually taken Shaitan by surprise. Could anyone have slept through the din of my landing?
As if in answer, she stiffens on feeling the pressure of the edge of a flat blade prick the base of her neck. It urges her in the direction of the bed. It doesn’t feel like a sword, but she is unable to place what weapon it could belong to.
She swallows, trying to hang onto the slim thread of confidence that has brought her this far. Projecting an outward calm and confidence she does not feel, Tiina walks forward. She wonders if it is her imagination or if the pressure is growing more insistent by the minute.
As she nears the bed, the figure sits up and stretches. Shaitan…?
No, it’s a woman with curly red
dish-blonde hair in disarray around her shoulders. It falls all the way to her hips so that she seems to be wearing it like a thick cloak around her. As if noticing them for the first time, her eyes grow round in fear. Out of the corner of her eyes, Tiina spots a long muscled arm with black hair gesture to the woman and her eyes follow her as she steps out of the bed naked and, without bothering to get her clothes, rushes to the door. The pressure on her back grows lighter for a split second. Whoever stands behind her is distracted by the sight, and Tiina turns, bringing her talwar down in one smooth flowing movement on the outstretched arm, neatly slicing through it.
Blood spurts out, and he screams in pain, sinking to his knees. Strange, she thought Shaitan would be more handsome. The man in front of her resembles a massive mountain with thick dirt brown hair that falls in dreadlocks to his shoulders. His wide shoulders shake with pain, and are covered in a fitted black armour vest over filthy fatigue trousers.
She takes a step forward to finish what she has started when the man-mountain gets to his feet and rushes at her with a massive axe.
What Tiina lacks in brute strength she makes up for in agility. Waiting until he is almost upon her, she steps aside so that he stumbles and almost falls to the ground, righting himself at the last minute. He rushes back at her and again she slides aside. This time he turns around and eyes her. Pure rage floods his face.
Good, he is really pissed off!
She smiles to madden him further and, holding up her talwar, which is half the size of his axe, she beckons, mocking him. Anger darkens his eyes, and shaking his head to clear his rage, he throws his axe at her, this time catching her by surprise. She dodges at the last minute, and the axe misses her chest but brushes her left side, before it falls to the ground behind her. The jolt from the weapon combined with her sudden move is enough to loosen her grip on the sword, which falls from her hand.
Pain floods her and blood flows out from the gaping wound. Tiina refuses to look at her injury, knowing that the sight of her own blood would weaken her. Instead, she focuses on gathering her energy, but this time he is faster. He is on her in two giant steps and grabs her by the scruff of her throat with his right hand as she reaches for her sword. After raising her up in the air, her feet suspended almost two feet from the ground, he shakes her until every bone in her body jostles. Stunned, she goes limp, and he carries her out of the tent into the open.
She is dimly aware of the change in light and can smell fresh air as her eyes flutter open to see the ground rushing up to meet her. She hits the floor on her hurt side and gasps as the pain kicks through her, almost knocking her unconscious. Clenching her teeth, determined not to let out a cry, she swallows the bile that rushes up to her throat.
Let me not be sick, she prays. Then, willing herself to block out the pain, she uses her right hand to support her body as she pushes back against the muddy ground and gets to her feet. The world whirls around her as she looks at someone standing in front of her.
He is tall but not as tall as the earlier creature, and his back is to her. The first thing to catch her attention is his mane of thick black hair, which hangs almost to his shoulders. The tresses billow in the wind so that as he turns to face her, it flies around his face, framing broad eyebrows over widely spaced almond shaped light brown eyes. A turquoise vest covers his torso, which sets off his reddish brown skin. Black leather trousers hug his strong legs to end in knee-high leather boots. He raises his sword, and the rising sun catches the ruby in its hilt. It reminds Tiina of the sword she carries.
The pain makes her weak and confused. She closes her eyes and focuses internally, trying to find her central point to stabilise herself. For a second, she loses herself in the calm, disregarding everything around her. The mists in her mind fade, and she opens her eyes to find he is still looking at her. Behind her, the man-mountain breathes heavily; his each in-drawn breath is harsh, like the wind rushing into a mountain hole to be expelled with a loud ahhh! through his bellow-like mouth.
He stands so close to her that she can feel the ugly warmth from his body, and she shivers in revulsion. Using her good right hand, she pulls the sword from her back and plunges it into his heart, the move taking every last ounce of her strength. His scream is echoed by her harsh cry.
She collapses on top of him, at the last minute twisting her body to roll off him, coming to rest on her back, looking at the skies. A faint speck of golden light up in the heavens grows bigger as it comes closer. Delirious from the pain hammering through her side, she thinks otherwise when there is an explosion of white light.
A nova of bright energy speckled with flashes of red and metallic blue bursts, and Mimir is at the heart. His pristine white robes and flowing beard stand out in relief as the light creates a halo around him, forcing her to close her eyes against its intensity.
“Magnificent.” She smiles, calmness sweeping over her. The pulsing beat of her heart carries her into the whirlpool of her subconscious.
Shaitan puts up a hand to shield his eyes from the glare of the bright light. Within seconds, it has faded enough for him to look once more. Mimir steps out of it, between him and the fallen girl.
He has not changed at all. Shaitan stays where he is, the sword grasped in his right hand. While I have.
As if drawn to Mimir, Shaitan takes a step forward, then another. The old much-remembered feeling of power radiating from the old guardian reaches out to Shaitan. Despite himself, the hairs on her forearms rise up, and that innate human part of him shivers in recognition, wanting to surrender to that ultimate source of power, the final good. Drawn toward Mimir, Shaitan feels as if he is fifteen again.
No there are more wrinkles on his face, he thinks surprised, when he is close enough to see them.
“Is she that important, then?”
Mimir smiles, recognising the petulance in his voice. “So were you.”
“No! You never supported me.”
“You were among the best.”
“The best.”
“Among the best.” Mimir stays his ground. “But near the top.”
“You never took me seriously.” An obstinate look comes into Shaitan’s eyes.
“You have my attention now.”
“And how. You actually came to me, and for that I am honoured, but it’s not enough to spare her life.”
“You have to get through me, first.”
“The great Mimir, begging for a life.” Shaitan laughs at his own joke. The fit echoes around the hill, wrapping both of them in a cocoon of hatred. The animosity between them crackles to life, fanned by the flames of the past.
“Not so fast,” says Mimir, holding up his right hand. “Come, Shaitan, this fight is long overdue.”
In response, Shaitan bares his teeth, then with an exultant roar, he holds up his sword and charges forward, only to crash into a force field of energy. He flies in a wide curve through the air, his back arched as if over a pit of fire, before he hits the ground shoulder-first at exactly the same spot where he was standing before. He is stunned only for a second before he recovers, shaking his head.
How could he have forgotten that with Mimir, he is dealing with more than just weapons—it’s his trickery he must watch out for. Find his weak spot. Shaitan sits up, weighing his surroundings. His eyes chance upon the girl, who hasn’t moved from where she collapsed. Of course!
“So, tell me, Mimir,” he says, getting to his feet, “what is so special about her that you feel compelled to put your life at risk?”
“That you could know what it is to love the innocence of a child, when you would do everything in your capacity to protect it, nourish it, and watch it grow. You, who are cursed never to be humbled by that awe for life, for death seeks you.”
Mimir’s answer maddens him, for he knows it is true. His half-human side wants for the soft love of a pretty woman, the fragrant love of a blameless child, the massive love of humanity, all warring with the other side, seeking revenge, striving to assuage the thirst for p
ower. As he is pulled into the dilemma of conflicting emotions, logic takes over. He focuses on his immediate sensations, feeling the pain of the fall in his physical body, quieting his mind, allowing him to hone in on just one particular thought. Kill.
He takes a step back, and another and another, until he has moved diagonally all the way back to the edge of the hilltop. After pressing his feet into the ground, Shaitan breaks into a run, using the extra space to give him the velocity needed to spring up into the air and over Mimir, his legs climbing through space, forming a perfect semicircle that takes him above Mimir’s head to then curve back and land on his other side, right next to Tiina.
Before Shaitan can turn to face Mimir, the old man raises his right arm and hits him with a ball of pure energy, which has Shaitan gasping with the pain from the vibrations, like millions of thorns embedded deep in his body, running through him. He spins a few feet away from the girl. Mimir follows the attack with another from his left hand and then again with his right, until Shaitan has been pushed too far to reach the girl with his sword. Every part of him is in agony as he sits, paralysed.
33
“Wake up…up…up…” The voice in her mind is insistent. She tries to shrug it away, wanting to crawl back into the dark comforting hole she is in, clothing herself in its seductive softness. She just wants to sleep. “Get up now!”
The voice is deafening, loud enough to penetrate every cell in her body. Breath gushes out of Tiina, and her eyes snap open as she springs out of the deep sea of unconsciousness into the pain of reality and sits up. For a moment, she looks ahead, disoriented, seeing only the sky and the city spread out below her. Then turning her head to her left, she sees Mimir walk toward the dark-haired handsome being she met with before; he is moving his hands alternately, hitting the other man with his power, physically moving him away inch-by-inch.