by Ian Gregoire
Tan’dee took a step toward Kayden and gently placed her hands on either side of her face.
“My baby girl, listen to me very carefully,” she implored. “Once you start down that path you will not stop. Multitudes will drown in the rivers of blood you will shed.” Her hands slowly fell away from her daughter’s face, then she took a step back. “The mere mention of your name will shame me, forever.”
The retort Kayden wanted to utter was forestalled when she noticed a red stain appear on her mother’s brilliant white dress. The circular spot began to grow and spread, quickly joined by several more identical stains that she realised was blood. She was absolutely horrified when blood began to leak from her mother’s eyes, ears, nose and mouth.
“Mama, what’s happening?” she asked in wide-eyed panic.
There was no reply.
She heard the sound of water trickling rapidly on the ground, prompting her to look down. It wasn’t water; it was blood. A steady flow dripping from the sleeves and hem of her mother’s dress. Kayden was shocked to see that enough blood had already pooled beneath herself and her mother to cover the entire surface of the forest clearing, giving it the appearance of a small lake of blood. Her horror was compounded further by the sight of her mother and the body of the her doppelgänger sinking slowly into the blood, though her own feet remained upon the surface as if it was solid ground.
“Don’t be alarmed,” said Tan’dee. “It’s not my blood. It’s the blood of all the people you are going to kill.”
Ignoring her mother’s outrageous claim, Kayden looked on helplessly as the lifeless body of her doppelgänger disappeared beneath the surface, with a disturbing squelching sound. If she didn’t do something, quickly, her beloved mother—already sunk half way up to her shins in blood—would soon submerge.
“Mama!”
She grabbed hold of her mother by both arms in a desperate attempt to pull her free of the blood. The effort only seemed to make matters worse. The more she pulled, the quicker her mother sank. Tan’dee was now knee-deep in the blood.
Kayden cast her gaze frantically around the clearing. “Whoever’s doing this,” she yelled, “make it stop…now!”
“Only you can make it stop,” said Tan’dee.
Kayden stared intently into her mother’s eyes. “How?” she pleaded.
“You have to let me go.”
“No!” She was bewildered by the request given that her mother was now waist-deep in the blood. “I won’t let you go.” It suddenly dawned on Kayden that her mother meant for her to ‘let go’ in the figurative sense. “I can’t let you go,” she lamented. “I don’t want to lose you all over again.”
“You can never lose me, Kayden,” her mother said in a soothing tone. “You are my baby. You are a part of me, as I am a part of you. Wherever you go, I will always be with you.” There was an expectant pause while Tan’dee looked beseechingly at Kayden. “Please…let me go.”
Kayden’s eyes began to water. “I don’t want to,” she said, choking up, trying to keep her tears at bay.
“My love, if you are to escape the terrible fate that awaits you,” Tan’dee persisted, “you must let me go, now.”
Tears slowly rolled down Kayden’s cheeks. With a tremendous effort she reluctantly released her hold on her mother, letting Tan’dee sink chest deep in blood. She was inconsolable, standing there watching helplessly as her mother sank deeper into the blood.
“I love you so much, my baby girl,” said Tan’dee with obvious pride; only her head remaining above the surface.
“I love you too, Mama,” sobbed Kayden. “With all my heart.”
Tan’dee was fully submerged in the blood, leaving Kayden standing alone in the clearing; she had lost her mother for the second time. Dropping to her knees, she shut her eyes and let out a long, piercing scream that reverberated around the clearing.
After what felt like an eternity, she fell silent and opened her eyes. The scene surrounding her had changed: the forest clearing was just how it was when she first entered. The lake of blood that took her mother and the body of the Rogue was gone, nor was there any indication of the titanic confrontation with her doppelgänger. Those areas of ground that had been torn up during their duel were undamaged, and there was no sign of the crater caused by the elaborate incendiary orb unleashed against her.
Kayden was disturbed by the seeming normality of the scene around her. If not for the pain of the two wounds inflicted upon her by the Rogue, she might have questioned whether or not what she had just experienced was real or imagined. But it had been real. She had fought a duel to the death against The Rogue, and triumphed—only to discover that her vanquished enemy was in fact her own self. And much worse than that, she had been reunited—albeit briefly—with her beloved mother, who warned her of the shame she would bring if she pursued her desire for revenge, thereby becoming the black clad killer she had no wish to be.
A distorted recollection of events came to her mind, unbidden.
Her mother was kneeling beside her as she lay dead on the ground wearing the black garb of the Rogue.
Is this how you have chosen to honour me? her mother was saying. Why would you become the very thing you despise?
The look of shame, hurt and disappointment in her mother’s eyes was overpowering. Kayden couldn’t bear to have her mother look at her in such a way; she had no desire to be a source of shame for the person she loved most.
Kayden rose abruptly to her feet, it was time to get out of there.
Why would you make me the mother of a murderous monster?
Her mother’s accusatory voice echoed around the clearing—it wasn’t in her head. Her heart began to race in panic. She needed to get out of the cursed forest as quickly as possible, while she still had her sanity.
She darted towards the dirt path and sprinted as though her life depended on it, but still she couldn’t outrun her mother’s heartbreaking voice.
Why would you shame me this way?
She re-entered the trees at speed and her mother’s voice followed her still.
Is this how you have chosen to honour me? Why would you make me the mother of a murderous monster?
It didn’t matter how fast or how far she ran, Kayden couldn’t escape the voice. Tears began streaming down her face, the hurt in her mother’s voice stabbing at her like a knife.
The frantic nature of her effort to escape the forest, coupled with her stinging tears, prevented Kayden from noticing how the dirt path was leading her towards a pitch black curtain of nothingness. She continued running, oblivious. The moment she met the blackness she ran straight into strong arms that stopped her in her tracks.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Mama!” Kayden cried. “Please forgive me. I never meant to shame you. I will make it right, I promise.”
“Calm down, Kayden. Calm down” came Ari’s soothing voice. “I don’t understand a word you are saying. I don’t speak Zenoshanese.”
Kayden suddenly realised she was being held in Master Ari’s arms, her head against his chest. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, confused.
“Welcome back,” he said.
She was back. They were standing at their picnic spot in the valley, bathed in the light of an illumination orb. The red and white check table cloth was still spread out on the ground behind Ari, with the remains of their meal upon it, and the assortment of white rocks protruding from the earth. Pulling away from Ari’s embrace, she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Slowly, she peered back over her shoulder to glance at the forest that had deeply disturbed her. There was no forest, just the rolling fields of the valley extending into the dark of night.
“What’s the matter?” asked Ari when she turned back to him.
“The forest…it’s—”
“Gone?” he finished for her. “Yes, it has served its purpose.”
“Master Ari, while I was in the forest I saw—”
“Shhhhh!” Ari held up a finger, signalling for her to be silen
t. “Whatever it was you were shown was for your eyes only. You shouldn’t speak of it to anyone else.”
Kayden noticed that she was uninjured. There were no tell-tale slashes in her uniform where her doppelgänger had inflicted wounds to both her upper left arm and her right thigh. Nor was her body aching from the beating she received when trying to flee from her adversary.
“Was it…? Was it even real, Master?”
“I suppose that depends what you mean by real,” Ari replied. “If you are asking me whether or not what you experienced really happened… Then yes, it did—that’s the best answer I can give you.”
He turned away from Kayden, stepping over the tablecloth to reclaim his place sitting across from her.
“Why don’t you have a seat; the tea’s still hot, would you like some more?”
“Thank you, Master.”
Kayden sat down, cross-legged, opposite him. She reached for one of the remaining tarts as he poured more tea into her empty mug. It dawned on her that she had no idea just how long she’d spent wandering the Forest of Revelation. It had felt like ages, though she suspected otherwise.
“Master, how long was I gone for?”
Ari set Kayden’s mug down in front of her.
“An hour or so, I’d say. Not much more than that.”
He took a sip from his own mug then looked up at the night sky. Without the customary physical gesture, he casually invoked Inkansaylar to generate a large barrier sphere around the makeshift camp.
“Just in case we get some rain tonight,” he said in response to Kayden’s questioning look. “We wouldn’t want to get drenched while we sleep.”
“We’re spending the night out here, Master?”
“Not unless you want to trek in the dark for a couple of hours to get back to Temis Rulan before dawn.”
Kayden was in no real hurry to get back to the city. Her time with Master Ari had almost certainly put paid to her chances of ever being inducted into the Order. Returning to Temis Rulan would merely make it official.
“No, I could use the rest,” she conceded. “It’s been a trying day.”
After a prolonged break in the conversation, punctuated by the sipping of tea, and the nibbling of food, Kayden was ready to engage Ari once more.
“Master, may I tell you something?” He silently nodded his assent. “I realise it’s far too late to make any difference to what happens to me when we return to Temis Rulan, but I want you to know…it is no longer my intention to kill my stepfather for what he did to my mother.”
“I see,” said Ari, thoughtfully. “You seemed rather adamant about doing so, earlier. Why the change of heart?”
Kayden recalled the look in her mother’s eyes, and the hurt in her voice.
“For too long I’ve allowed my anger and hatred towards my stepfather blind me to one simple truth: my mother would never approve of me killing anyone in cold blood, irrespective of the pretext,” she said. “The mere thought of becoming someone Mama would be ashamed to call her daughter hurts me more than losing her has done. That being the case, if I cannot have justice for my mother, the least I can do is honour her memory.”
“If your mother could see you now, Kayden, I’m sure she’d be immensely proud of the woman you are becoming.”
A lump formed in Kayden’s throat.
“Thank you, Master.”
She lowered her head as a single tear trickled down her cheek. She would not allow Ari to see her cry for a third time.
Despite the darkness of nightfall, Fay could just about make out Kenit and Tylo on horseback ahead of her, against the backdrop of the muted glow of lights coming from the town of Relona, looming further in the distance. She had more or less given up on catching the pair before arriving back in town, but now they were in view she urged her mount into a swift gallop. A short while later she was riding at a trot alongside the other horse. It amused her to note how obviously thrilled Kenit was to see her. But it was also gratifying to see that he looked so much more confident and self-assured. It appeared her elaborate charade had been an unqualified success.
As they rode into town, Fay informed Tylo that she and Kenit would be taking him home to his parents, immediately. They would return first thing in the morning to discuss the two options for his future: ten years apprenticeship, or the binding of Zarantar. Tylo played along like a consummate professional, earning a surreptitious wink from her when Kenit wasn’t looking.
After having the two horses stabled at an inn located in the north of the town, she and Kenit escorted Tylo through the streets of Relona. In spite of the late hour, they passed several other people while navigating the main streets on their way to the residential building where Fay and Kenit had met Tylo’s faux parents, Sedona and Radmilio. Before long the group reached their destination, without incident.
Fay led her two companions in single file down the narrow alleyway that separated the residential building from its neighbour. As she emerged around the back of the building on her right hand side, she was greeted by the sight of two women dressed in the cream and beige attire worn by all the Jaymidari, standing near the staircase leading up to the first floor landing. She did not recognise the younger of the two Sisters, but she knew the elder with the long, wavy hair, smiling warmly at her—it was Tylo’s real mother, Sister Inara.
“Has the quarantine been lifted?” Fay asked in mock surprise, for Kenit’s benefit, as they approached the two women.
“It turned out to be a false alarm. A case of misdiagnosis,” replied Inara. “Sister Klara and I,” she gestured at her companion, “headed into town not long after you left the seminary, to let you know. Of course, once we located your young friend’s parents they told us what had happened. We’ve been waiting here for you ever since.”
“Well, no harm was done in the end,” said Fay, “thanks to my colleague here, Kenit Darbandian.” There was a brief exchange of salutations after she introduced Kenit to the Sisters. “As for those responsible for Tylo’s adventure, they won’t be bothering anyone again,” she continued. “And now that you are here I assume you can handle the discussions with Tylo and his parents about his future.”
“If it’s all right with you,” said Inara.
“Yes, of course it is. We’re more than happy to leave the matter in your capable hands.”
Inara turned to her counterpart. “Klara, could you take Tylo indoors, please? I’ll be up shortly.”
Klara held out her hand to Tylo who dutifully stepped forward to take hold of it. He looked back at the two Sanatsai to address them one last time.
“It was an honour to meet you,” he said. “Both of you.”
“Likewise,” replied Kenit. “I’m sorry it couldn’t have been under better circumstances.”
“Farewell, Tylo,” added Fay.
Allowing Sister Klara to lead him away, the pair departed up the stairs heading for the back entrance of his faux parents’ home. Fay noted the look of pride on Inara’s face while watching the boy leave and disappear indoors with her colleague.
Inara returned her gaze to Fay. “So, what did you make of young Tylo tonight?” she asked.
Fay smiled. “He is a credit to his mother,” she answered, knowingly.
“That’s very nice to hear.” Inara couldn’t keep the gratification from her voice. “I’ll be sure to let her know you said so.”
“Well, we won’t keep you any longer. Now that the situation has been resolved, Kenit and I should begin our journey back to Temis Rulan.”
“Very well,” said Inara, taking a step forward with arms open to embrace Fay. “It’s just a shame we don’t have time to catch up. It has been too long.”
“The next time I find myself in Lirantana,” said Fay, releasing her hold on Inara. “I will make a point of checking in on you.”
With that, the Sanatsai duo bid farewell to Inara before departing to make their way back to the inn where their horses were stabled. Upon arriving outside the establishment, minutes lat
er, Kenit questioned the necessity of returning to Temis Rulan right away.
“It must be sometime after First Hour in the morning back there,” he pointed out. “I see no reason to rush back to the seminary tonight to use their portal chamber—it will still be there at dawn. And after the night we’ve just had I think we’ve more than earned the right to spend the night here together.
“In separate rooms, of course,” he added, after Fay had raised her eyebrows.
“That goes without saying,” she retorted in her habitual matter-of-fact fashion.
“So…we are agreed?” queried Kenit. “We can get a few hours sleep and still be back in Temis Rulan in time for breakfast.”
Fay agreed to checking into the inn for the night, though, in the end, she and Kenit did have to share a room—it was the only one vacant.
After they’d shared a pot of camomile tea, Kenit generously offered to allow her to sleep in the only bed while he slept on the floor. She graciously accepted the chivalrous gesture, not that she would have given him the option had he not offered. But Kenit didn’t need to know that.
Kayden lay upon the grass with her knapsack beneath her head, wrapped in a blanket, staring up at the stars through the translucent bubble surrounding herself and Master Ari. It had been a while since she laid down to get some rest but she was unable to sleep; she had so much on her mind. On one hand, she had been given the opportunity to see her mother again—to speak to her, to touch her. Whether it was real or not didn’t matter; she would cherish the memory, regardless. Yet, on the other hand, she was increasingly disturbed by the recollection of her own face staring back at her from beneath the hooded cloak of the Rogue. Obviously, she knew she wasn’t the actual historical figure who had wreaked havoc across much of the Nine Kingdoms during the Great War, seven decades earlier. But her surreal experience in the Forest of Revelation strongly implied that she could, potentially, become the successor to the original rogue Sanatsai.
However, Kayden’s most immediate concern was what she was going to do with her life once she was expelled from campus, after having her Zarantar bound. For five years the Antaris campus had been home. Being an apprentice there meant never having to worry about keeping a roof over her head, clothes on her back, and food in her belly—things she hadn’t always been able to take for granted. Expulsion was going to take that away, and more. She had no idea what she would do at that point. Suddenly the future was a daunting prospect.