The Mystical Knights: The Sword of Dreams

by K. A. Robertson

  “Rise and shine, sleepyhead!” Quinn cried almost jubilantly. He stepped back through the doorway, tucking his leather jacket around his midsection. “How are you feeling?”

  “Disoriented,” Nia replied truthfully as she gazed around the room in wonder. How did I get here? she curiously thought, eyeing a crystal vase of wild flowers and a box of chocolates that sat untouched on a little side table. She spotted her father’s familiar patched corduroy jacket hanging off one of the chairs that sat next to her bed. “Dad’s here?” Nia sat up quickly, pulling the stiff white sheets off of her legs. “I have to talk to him. Is he okay?”

  “Hold it, laser eyes.” Quinn was at her side at once, his hand bracing her shoulder as he gently pushed her back into the lumpy hospital pillows. “Your father is fine—he just stepped out to get some coffee.”

  “Dad drinks coffee?” Nia made a face, her eyebrows shooting into the middle of her forehead. “How long have I been here for Dad to start drinking coffee?”

  “Long enough.” Fiona inched back through the doorway as well, her long curtain of red hair swaying back and forth as she walked. Her long silvery dress shimmered elegantly as Fiona walked through the rays of sunshine that came beaming through the window. Fiona’s long fingers laced through one another as she sat at the foot of Nia’s bed. She gave Nia a wry smile and shook the toe of her boot. “It’s been nearly five days.”

  Nia’s eyes popped open, practically bulging from their sockets. “Five days?” Nia whispered exasperatedly, looking alarmed. “I’ve been gone for that long?”

  “Well you haven’t been gone, but you haven’t been here much, either,” Quinn replied, sounding amused. He leaned his slender frame against the chair and smirked.

  “But—where is everyone?” Nia looked around the room wild eyed, just now realizing that there were three out of the six of them standing in the room. Are they alright? Are they even alive? Well, Nia swallowed hard, listening as the shrill beeping quickly became erratic, they wouldn’t look so cheerful if everyone was dead, right?

  "Everyone is fine," Fiona said calmly, her expression stoic. “Kenzie is in the room next to yours,” she leaned forward, giving Nia a sympathetic look. “That Sword—whatever you did—helped her out a great deal.”

  "I don't even know what happened," Nia revealed, suddenly feeling anxious. That black thing...the light...the internal struggled of what felt like good and evil... She met Fiona's silvery eyes and asked, "Did you see that large black shadow that was left behind when-when what was left of Zephyrlis crumbled? Did you see it go inside me?"

  Fiona's unyielding face frowned. She shared at look with Quinn who looked equally confused. "What are you talking about?"

  "That-that black thing," Nia repeated, looking between the two of them as her heart beat a little faster in her chest. "It sucked itself right up inside me. I could feel it filling me up with every breath I took, and it just..." she trailed off, watching as the confusion deepened between the two of them. "I-I must have imagined it..."

  "I just saw the Sword," Fiona said quietly. "It lit up like a beacon and filled me with such hope. I know it helped heal Kenzie before it took us where ever we needed to go. It healed Thor a bit too-he's still a bit banged up, but he's on his feet and walking normally now. And Rowan—” Nia felt her heart quiver with anticipation as Fiona spoke his name, “was perfectly fine—just a little bit black and blue. He just left, actually.”

  “I’m glad that everyone is okay,” Nia said, playing with the seams of her sheets. She glanced into Quinn’s face and frowned. "You have a brother."

  "I do," Quinn said, heaving a sigh. He leaned back in the chair and twiddled his fingers. "A real life evil twin, at that."

  "No one else seemed surprised," Nia replied, turned her attention to Fiona, who raised her eyebrows.

  "We didn't think to tell you, to be fair," she said, matter-of-factly. "I thought you'd already knew."

  "Fair enough," Nia nodded. "But I keep telling you the psychic thing doesn't work that way. I don't know everything."

  "But you know well enough."

  There was an awkward silence between them as they sat. Quinn cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. "If it means anything, I don't speak of my brother much. If fact, I try to pretend he isn't my brother. He isn't much of one, he hasn't been in my life for years."

  "Why?" Nia asked.

  "I thought he was dead," Quinn said. His face held no remorse, but a sadness lingered behind his eyes. "We were five and I guess my memory isn't as great as I thought it was..."

  "Must have come as a shock when you saw him again, huh?"

  "You'd think that," Quinn cupped his chin in his palm, and distractedly eyed the ceiling, "but I was mostly relieved. Happy, even. Until I learned what he had become. Although he wasn't always the most, uh...innocent child, I never thought...well, you know..."

  He didn't need to speak anymore. Nia understood well enough; she couldn't begin to imagine her own mother coming back from the grave, completely different than what she remembered. Swallowing hard, Nia pushed the thought of her mother away, another question coming to mind. She wanted to know what happened after the Sword transported them-or whatever it did-back from the underground. Where had they reappeared? She opened her mouth, but the sound of Styrofoam hitting the ground made the three Knights look up towards the doorway.

  “Nia!” Sam raced towards his daughter, completely forgetting all about the spilt coffee as he scooped Nia up into his arms just like he used to when she was small. Nia silently winced into his shoulder, breathing in the smell of leather, coconuts and sawdust. Fiona slipped off of the bed, watching the two embrace with mild inquisitiveness. “Oh, my girl—you’re awake!”

  “Yes Dad,” Nia affirmed with a laugh, giving a quick nod while squeezing him tight, as a few stray tears plopped unceremoniously on the top of her head. “I’m awake.”

  Sam planted a rather whiskery kiss to Nia’s cheek before turning to look at Fiona and Quinn who had stood from their seats.

  “We’ll see you later, Nia,” Quinn gave them both a salute like wave before ducking out of the room.

  “Bye Nia,” Fiona waved, a small smile toying at her lips. Her usually brass voice sounded different, kinder maybe. “Good-bye, Mr. Mitchell.”

  Sam nodded to Fiona as she carefully shut the door behind her before turning his attention back towards Nia. “They might act strange and dress weird,” he muttered to her under his breath, “but you have got some of the nicest friends I have ever met. They've been in and out of here like troopers.” He gestured to the door behind him. “They came to visit every day—they brought the flowers and chocolate. And that girl—Fiona?-I swear I've seen her before—” Nia’s stomach rumbled a little too loudly. Sam laughed and pulled her close. “We’ll get you something light to eat if you are hungry—toast or an English muffin. You haven’t had a meal in days...” He looked at the call button experimentally and gave Nia a shrewd look that made Nia cave inwardly. “We were supposed to let the nurses know when you woke up, but I have a few questions to ask you first.”

  Nia swallowed hard; she had been dreading this part of seeing her father again. She could only imagine the types of questions he would ask: “What happened?” and “Why did you skip the carnival and deliberately lie to me?”

  “Dad, I don't remember too much-" Nia began.

  Sam cupped Nia’s face between his hands, holding her as though she were the most precious thing on Earth. He leaned close, so their eyes were level, brown looking in on purple, and he breathed a soft sigh. “They said you might have some memory loss..." He smoothed Nia's hair back a couple of times in silence before letting his hand drop onto her shoulder. "A boy was found wandering around the carnival a little while after it started. He was in such a state, stripped right down to his underwear..."

  Lance. Nia inhaled sharply, her insides quivering with anger. How terrible for him, not just what he endured in the underground, but to have been thrust into the b
oisterous events of a noisy carnival?

  "...He was running around and shouting. He kept saying, 'Nia saved me! Help Nia!' over and over again." Sam removed his hand and stared at Nia long and hard, as though trying to see deep within her soul. "Do you have any recollection of why he may have been shouting your name? Did you save him?"

  Nia blanched. All the air that had been in her lungs felt like it had been pushed out and she had to press her hand into the flimsy mattress to steady her. "He-he said my name?"

  "He did," Sam said carefully, assessing her with soft eyes. "It took a while to calm him down-locate his mother-he's your friend Kenzie's brother, Lance, was it?. And then people began to realize that you and your friends were missing. Someone said that you all had been looking for Lance..." he trailed off, rising to his feet as he did so.

  Sam rounded to the other side of the bed and picked up a pile of newspapers off of the side table. His eyes lingered on a headline that Nia could not see before bringing the papers to his chest. He looked at her with a confused expression and sat down on her bed. "No one had hardly a clue as to where any of you were. Except Lance. He was quite adamant that you all were in some kind of danger, he kept muttering something about 'the gray ones...'" Nia held her breath, staring at her father with wide unblinking eyes. Sam, on the other hand, exhaled loudly and held out the newspaper. "And then someone saw this, hovering in the sky over Hollow Hills."

  The picture on the front page was of Hollow Hills Park and a large steely gray disc shaped object floating high above the Hollow Hills gazebo. The disc was rimmed with several white lights, and three larger red lights were set within those white lights-one at the top and two perfectly spaced out at the bottom. Nia took the newspaper and stared at the picture, her mind reeling hard, like fishing line being cast to sea.

  "What's funny to me-and maybe ironic," Sam said, and Nia could feel his eyes burning into the side of her face as she sat, heart racing in her throat, "is that I could have sworn that I heard Lance say something about aliens. Aliens had taken him." Nia met his steady gaze, unsure if she should laugh and pretend the idea was ludicrous, pretend that Sam must have wrongly overheard him. Sam chuckled a bit, and Nia's shoulder's relaxed and she chuckled idly along as well until her father's friendly face became serious once more. He cleared his throat before continuing, "Do you believe in-?" Sam paused and pointed up towards the ceiling.

  Nia hesitated. "Aliens?" Sam nodded. "I-I believe that it's...narrow minded and ignorant to think that we're the only intelligent life out there," she replied honestly, watching him carefully.

  Sam pursed his lips together and leaned closer to her on the bed. He appeared nervous; his knee kept bouncing up and down and Nia could see his Adam's apple moving hard with every deliberate swallow he took. He folded his hands together as his eyebrows furrowed together in thought. "When I was younger, he told her carefully, his voice low and soft, "back in the beginning of my military days, sixteen years ago, I had a couple...weird experiences." He swallowed hard once more, before reaching out for the pitcher of water that sat on the side table. He pour his drink into a cup, but didn't touch it. "There was this one time, I had to call for a ride to get back to my house on base. I had just came back from leave, and I was dead on my feet. I remember making the phone call...and then I remember sitting on the curb and realizing it had been hours since I had made that call. I don't remember what happened in between."

  Sam was frowning, his forehead full of wrinkles as he remembered his own fragmented memory. Nia touched his hand and rubbed the tops of his knuckles with her thumb. "That must have been confusing," she said. "Were you hurt at all?"

  "No," Sam said, his voice still disbelieving still after all this time. "No head trauma, no wounds of any kinds. I hadn't been drinking. It was as if I had blacked out completely and wandered away. The guy I had called-one of my housemates- he'd went down to the gates to pick me up and he still swears to this day that I wasn't there. The guy who went with him swore the very same. They drove around for hours looking for me too. I was just gone. Then six hours later, I showed up back at the gates..." his eyes were distant as he spoke, and Nia could almost see his memory start to dance before her very eyes. "I had awful dreams after that. I don't remember much of the dream, except for the color white, and how terrible I felt when I'd wake up. It went on for years, those dreams."

  "I remember you telling me about your bad dreams," Nia said suddenly. "I remember my first weekend with you, I had this nightmare...you made me feel better by telling me that you had bad dreams nearly every night."

  Sam gave her a wry smile. "At least my dreams cheered up somebody." He redirected his gaze to the window. The sky was a crystal blue, not a cloud to be seen. "I've never been able to shake that experience. After all these years, when I'm alone, I still feel like I'm not really alone. That I'm being watched. And when Lance said that, about aliens...it just got me thinking that maybe I'm not crazy in believing that that is what my experience was." He looked back at Nia, with a half relieved, half frightened look etched onto his weathered and tan face. "Do you think I'm crazy? Do you remember...anything of what happened? You were all up at the gazebo-some looking worse for wear than others...but no one knew what happened."

  Oh, they knew, Nia thought, trying hard not to bite her lip. "I don't think you're crazy, Dad," she said gently. "Trust me. I've had some pretty weird things happen to me too. I'm sorry I can't remember much," she carried on, the lie easily dancing off her tongue. "I wish I could."

  "It's alright," Sam said, giving Nia a near wistful grin. He exhaled loudly and sat up taller than before. "You know, I feel better. Getting that off my chest. Thank you for being so open-minded, Nia."

  "Thank Mom." Nia gave Sam a solemn half smile as her heart ached painfully at the thought. She could feel tears stinging the backs of her eyes, so she blinked them away furiously. "She's the one who always said that having an open mind meant having an open heart."

  Sam smoothed her hair back again, tucking a curl behind her ear. “She was very right.”

  One lonely tear had snuck through the cracks and slipped down Nia's cheek. She felt the familiar brush of soft fingertips against her cheek, wiping away the tiny tear droplet. There was this awful and tight feeling in her chest as her father tenderly wrapped her into a fierce hug. “She would be so proud of you.” He pressed a kiss to the side of her head; that tightness in her chest rolled down into her stomach and released as more tears began to fall down her cheeks and she could feel her father's flannel shirt becoming wet. She had no idea why this had been the moment the floodgates opened but she knew now that these tears were much needed. It felt strangely good to release everything that she had pent up the last couple of months. It felt good to be wrapped inside the arms of someone she loved, who loved her back. Sam rubbed her back (perhaps awkwardly, Nia didn't know), and would gently whisper words of comfort as he held her tight. He held her until a nurse poked in and realized that she had woken up, and he stayed at her side until she fell back to sleep.

  * * *

  Spring sunshine gently pooled over the yellow grass that was still weak from the winter’s snow. Crocuses were starting to bloom, all pink, yellow and white, sprouting out from the earth like bean stalks and the air smelled sweet and new. Nia, newly free from her week long stint in the hospital, sat in the middle of the old tire swing that her father had built for her years ago. The old maple tree's bough creaked rhythmically as Nia sailed back and forth through the air, her eyes closed and her heart young again.

  "Hey! Are you supposed to be swinging?"

  Nia opened her eyes and let her feet scrape against the ground beneath her, coming to a halt. Her cheeks felt rosy with the early April chill that still lingered in the air. Sam stood on their front porch, hands on his hips, and gave her a firm look.

  "I'm fine Dad, really," Nia called to him, easily pulling herself out of the old tire. She waved her hands and did a little danced where she stood. "See? All good."

  "T
hen why did we just spend a week in the hospital?" Sam asked, his eye brows raised. "And why were you technically comatose for a majority of that week?"

  "They had no explanation, Dad," Nia said, giving an aimless shrug. It was true; all the tests, labs and whatever else they ran came back clear and negative. Nia had a feeling that would be the case.

  "Hmmph." Sam folded his arms across his chest. He looked over Nia with a probing eye before sighing. "Can't argue with the professionals, I guess."

  Nia walked over to where he stood, and looked him up and down. "Wow Dad," she paused and gave a small chuckle, taking in the sight of the collar of the white Oxford that stuck out from underneath a cream, gray, and yellow striped Cosby sweater. Sam had even shined up his old brown leather dress shoes. "You look great. Going somewhere special?

  Sam's ears went red. "Well," he said carefully, playing with the hem of his sleeve. "Nia, I didn't know how to tell you this. I-I wanted to tell you the night of the carnival, but you were in such a rush, I just figured I could tell you later..."

  "It's later now," Nia pointed out. She grinned at him, remembering the woman he had been with that night. How eager he had been to introduce her. "You have a date?"

  Sam's cheeks flushed red too; he tapped his foot anxiously and swallowed hard. "We-we've been dating," he said, looking very unsure how what to say. "We had just recently made it exclusive. I know I should have said something, but with your-your mom, I-"