Shattered Destiny

by West, Shay

  “Powerful magic. I almost overlooked it. It's subtle, woven through the fabric of the natural world around us.” Brok's instincts were telling him to run.

  Suddenly, the forest came alive with the snarls and screams of men, rendered invisible by the powerful magic Brok had sensed. Without thinking, Brok erected a shield and grabbed Gerok's arm, dragging him back to where they had left the Chosen. A man with his cheeks tattooed with symbols of some sort jumped in front of them. Brok flung Gerok to the side and threw a fireball with his other hand. He ducked as he sensed, rather than saw, the foe swinging a sword at his head.

  Brok spun and hurled a fist of air that took the second man in the gut. He quickly used his power to stop the man's heart in his chest. His gut twisted as he heard the shouts and bellows of the Chosen, who had come bursting into the fray.

  Brok tried to keep an eye on his Chosen and the enemy at the same time. Every time he spotted a man with tattooed cheeks, he blasted him with a fireball or sent him reeling with carefully manipulated waves of air.

  Gerok dispatched men with several blades he had secreted in his clothing. His aim was deadly, and no man rose from where he fell. Even dull blades can kill. Gerok used hand signals to communicate with his Chosen, alerting them to seal up holes in the perimeter and to keep an eye on the Astran Chosen.

  Keera's heart raced as she stood, circling helplessly and watching men falling to her right and left, blood gushing from their wounds as they groaned and screamed in pain.

  “Remember what we taught you! Accept the fear!” Seelyr yelled as she ran at another man who was twice her size. The Volgon woman smiled wolfishly as she leaped over the stunned man, her knife driving down at the back of his neck as she flipped head over heels. She landed gracefully on her feet in a low crouch, her eyes alight with malicious glee. She reached out, yanked the knife from the man's ruined neck, and saluted Keera with the crimson-stained blade.

  Keera turned quickly at the sound of a man's voice and found herself face-to-face with a man with black tattoos covering his face. Acting on instinct, she called upon the power, and a tree root encircled the man's feet. The man fell to the side.

  Out of nowhere, Gwen came running up to the fallen man and jabbed him in the neck with a knife. The dwarf girl screamed incoherently as the man's warm blood flowed over her hand. Gwen looked to Keera.

  Keera was frightened by what she saw in her friend's eyes. She looks like Seelyr did when she killed that other man. Keera gulped.

  Gwen used her power and sent a fireball whizzing past Keera's head to take a large man in the center of the chest. The man let out a blood curdling scream as he flailed about, trying to run from the fire that engulfed him.

  Keera had to fight a wave of nausea when she got a whiff of the burning man. She turned and ran away from the heat and the stench of cooking flesh.

  Jon panted, his body weakening from his use of his own magic. If I used the dark magic, I could keep fighting! He looked around, and when he didn't see Master Brok close by, he took a deep breath and opened himself to the life force from the living things around him. Jon stood in the middle of the melee, his body quivering with the dark power he held. Let's see them stop me now. He used the magic to formulate a sword made out of air, yet as sharp as any made of steel. The men who stood against his invisible blade fell, unable to fight an unseen weapon.

  Feeror and Voilor fought with their knives against men with swords. The two men did not have the reach of the enemy, and both were covered in many deep cuts. Feeror snarled and let an enemy combatant get close, close enough to smell the sweat drenching the other man. Feeror spun, sweeping his enemie's legs out from under him. In a heartbeat, the Volgon male was grappling with the man, each one screaming curses at the other, breath coming in gasps. Both were tiring quickly. Feeror got the man on his stomach and pulled his sword arm back and upward until he heard the shoulder separate. Once the man stopped fighting, Feeror wrapped his hands around the man's head and gave a sharp jerk, snapping his neck.

  Saemus and Kaelin stood hand in hand, aiming fireballs at the enemy. Who are these men? Where did they come from? Questions filled Saemus’ head, but he had no time to consider them as more and more men came running from the direction of Heart Stone.

  “I want the boy and the old man alive, you idiots! Kill the others, but leave those two unharmed!” Fa’ Vel's voice pierced the cacophony that filled the air.

  Brok growled low in his throat as he made his way toward where the voice had come from. Capture me? We'll see about that! Brok dispatched another man who had come at him wielding a wicked-looking scimitar. The smoke from the various fires burned his eyes and made them water. The smoke was thick and heavy, swirling among the trees and obscuring his vision. He tried to hold the coughs inside, unwilling to give away his position.

  Suddenly, Brok found himself alone. He heard a low laugh, and his skin crawled over his bones. He whirled, trying to pinpoint the source of the laugh, but all he could see was smoke.

  He was hit from behind, and he went down hard, the breath leaving his chest in a whoosh. His mouth was full of dirt and leaves. He struggled to push himself to his feet but was terrified to find that his body would not obey his commands. Rough hands grabbed his head and yanked back so hard that Brok feared his neck would snap. A gag was forced into his mouth, and a strip of cloth was tied roughly around his head. Several pairs of hands jerked him to his feet, and a burlap sack was thrust over his head.

  “Now get the boy, and be quick about it! I will meet you in Faerow.” Fa’ Vel's voice said to Brok's right. Brok stood, shaking, trying to gather his thoughts. He's after Jon! Though Fa’ Vel had only said “the boy,” Brok had no doubts as to who he was after. He tried to access his power but couldn't. Soon his attempts became frantic as he realized that he had somehow been closed off from his power.

  “You can't touch your magic. You may as well stop trying.”

  Brok could hear the dark magician moving around him.

  “Before you are burned at the stake, you will tell me who you are, where you come from, and what your plans are for this world,” Fa’ Vel purred.

  Brok shook his head, but a sharp blow from Fa’ Vel sent him to the ground again.

  “Do not presume to lie to me, old man. I saw you! I saw you and those others disappear into the rock. I know that you and those like you are responsible for the moon rings and the strange readings from the seers. I will know the why of it.” Fa’ Vel's hand grabbed Brok's hair and forced the Mystic's head back so that he could look down on Brok's terrified face. “Let's go,” the man ordered.

  As Brok was dragged away, he sent up a prayer to the good spirits that Gerok would keep the Chosen safe.

  * * *

  Gwen used her power to hurl a man off Feeror, who turned and gave the dwarf girl a small salute before whirling to find another foe to fight.

  “Jon!” Gwen ran for the boy she adored when she saw him surrounded by a half-dozen armed men. She stopped when he smiled mockingly and raised his hand nonchalantly. The men's faces went white, and they clutched their chests, slowly sinking to the ground, twitching.

  Gwen cried out and put her hands over her mouth, fighting the bile that burned her throat. He killed six people with that evil magic. She looked around at the dead and dying, wondering why what Jon had done bothered her more than Feeror or Voilor hacking at the enemy with knives.

  She caught Jon's eyes and tried not to flinch at their inky blackness. His face was filled with ecstasy, his mouth parted, eyes half-closed. She forced herself to look at the boy…no the man…she thought she loved. If I love him, I must love all of him.

  She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw him slump, the typical reaction of Jon letting go of the dark power. He raised his eyes, now blue, and saw Gwen. He smiled wanly and looked about.

  “I think it's over,” he said, gasping for breath. He did not look at the dead men that lay in a circle at his feet.

  “You're not supposed to use the d
ark magic—”

  “I'm tired of the same old arguments. I did what I had to.”

  “The rest of us managed to keep fighting by using only our own power.”

  “Well, good for you. Must be nice to be so self-sufficient,” Jon snapped.

  “Maybe you'd be stronger if you used your own magic instead of relying on that filthy power,” Gwen shot back.

  Jon marched so close that he towered over her. Gwen refused to step back. “It's none of your business. Just keep out of it.”

  Gwen watched Jon stalk off, anger and disappointment leaving her thoughts in a jumble. Tears sprang to her eyes. She hated the dark power that was taking over the boy she had loved for so long. He wasn't the same. The old Jon had been kind, funny, and patient. The new Jon was hurtful and callous, even sneaky.

  Gwen followed in the direction Jon had taken. The Volgon Chosen were gathered around someone lying on the ground.

  Gwen drew in a sharp breath. It's Seelyr. The woman was drenched in blood.

  Saemus and Kaelin ran up and knelt next to the injured woman. They held hands and linked their power. Kaelin let Saemus guide the magic. He had an instinct for healing, as had been proven so long ago when they'd healed the little boy at Midsummer festival. Seelyr gasped as the magic entered her injured body. One by one, her smaller cuts began to seal shut. The larger gash across her abdomen took a little longer to close.

  When they were finished, the twins moaned and slumped to the ground, utterly spent.

  Gwen glanced up as Feeror came to stand by her side. “You fought well today. You accepted the fear.” Feeror did not look at her, and his neck and face were tense.

  “I wanted to fight well.” She would never say the words “to make you proud of me,” but she was afraid the big Volgon knew anyway. He met her eyes briefly without moving his head and nodded.

  Her heart raced at the intensity of his eyes. It pierced right through to the tips of her toes, like an electric shock. Her breath came faster and heat rushed to her cheeks.

  “Where is Master Brok?” Keera asked. She was the first to notice that the old man was not among their group.

  Gerok told them all to stay put, and he went in search of Brok, starting where he had last seen him. Gerok made his way through the trees, ignoring the dead bodies. He looked down, and his heart sank. He knelt and picked up Brok's pack, which contained his herbs and potions. He spotted tracks leading off to the east.

  Gerok ran back to the others. “I fear he's been taken.” He tossed the pack down on the ground.

  “Then we must go after him,” Jon stated.

  “He would not want us to go after him. His first duty is to keep you safe. We must return to the portals immediately before we are attacked again,” Gerok said.

  “We're not leaving him in the hands of these men! We have to help him.” Gwen stood facing the big man, arms crossed over her chest.

  “We cannot, little one. With Brok gone, I am the only Guardian. It falls to me to keep you all safe. We have already lost one of the Chosen. If more of you die, it could be catastrophic.”

  “I don't care. I don't care about the Mekans. I don't care about your duty. I don't care about this stupid destiny! Our teacher is in trouble, and we need to help him,” Kaelin said, her anger boiling over.

  Gerok turned to his Chosen, hoping that they would force the Astrans to see reason. He sighed when he saw them stand firmly alongside their comrades, although he wasn't surprised. His Chosen were warriors and enjoyed running headlong into danger. Normally he would be just as eager to join them, but he had a greater duty as a Master and Guardian, and had to try to make the others see reason.

  “Going after Brok is too dangerous. We have already lost one of the Chosen. What if more of you are killed? Brok would want you to leave him behind,” Gerok said.

  “I'm not leaving without him. I'll go alone if I have to,” Jon said.

  “I won't leave either,” Gwen said.

  Gerok's jaw clenched as the rest of the Astran Chosen and his own nodded and spoke their own wishes to rescue the old Guardian.

  “Perhaps we should travel on to Heart Stone and see if we can find out who attacked us, and why. We also need to find out what happened to the villagers and farmers,” Saemus suggested.

  The others readily agreed, and Gerok was forced to concede. He could not force them to leave. Besides, I don't want to leave the old man here either.

  The Astran Chosen were eager to leave the area and the dead behind. Saemus and Jon took the lead. Just as they reached the outskirts of the village, Kaelin felt something small and furry launch itself at her chest.

  “Moira!” Kaelin cried out in pure joy. Moira's cheeks were full to bursting with her latest foraging. The little urgit reached up to stroke Kaelin's cheek with her chubby paws. Moira trilled and purred as best she could around the food stuffed in her cheeks, trying to burrow closer to the girl.

  “I can't believe it! I never thought we would see her again.” Gwen clapped her hands, glad to see the little urgit. She held a special place in her heart for Moira – the creature had been the one who had made it possible for Jon to escape the clutches of Queen Cheye.

  “What is it?” Seelyr's eyes were as wide as they could go. She held her hand out to Moira, who pulled back. At gentle urging from Kaelin, the urgit reached out with her chubby paws to touch Seelyr's hand. “What an adorable little thing!” Seelyr said, laughing at the Moira's antics.

  The group made their way into Heart Stone, which was just as deserted as Willow Haven had been, with one terrifying difference. Here, there were more signs of a struggle with whomever had orchestrated the attacks on the villages and towns. There was overturned furniture, broken dishes, and spots of blood that stained the floorboards. Here and there were little wooden crosses that marked hastily dug graves. Livestock wandered amongst the buildings, helping themselves to the choicest vegetables growing in the goodwives’ gardens. Kyron and Voilor trotted down the main road and split up when the road forked, each trying to find signs of where the villagers might have gone.

  The Astran Chosen were frantic with worry. Gwen tried to keep up with Jon as he raced down the road toward his family's farm, but her short legs couldn't cover ground fast enough. Her heart felt as though it would burst from her chest, and tears of frustration and worry and fear fell down her cheeks. Gwen watched Jon burst through the door to the house as she turned down the little road that led to her family home. She stood panting in front of the closed door, too terrified to open it.

  “I am with you, Gwen.”

  Gwen jumped as she heard Keera's voice. She had been so intent on keeping her legs moving that she had not even heard her friend following closely behind. Gwen took Keera's hand, which trembled as much as her own, and opened the door.

  She felt a sigh of relief when she saw that nothing in her home looked like it had been disturbed. She ran through the house, calling for her mother and father. Her voice echoed hollowly in the empty house.

  She left by the front door, feeling both elated and terribly frightened at the same time. For while there was no sign of a struggle, her family was nowhere to be found. Jon was running down the road, worry etched on his face.

  “The house is a mess, but I did not see any blood. Where could they all have gone?”

  As if in answer, Voilor came trotting up, barely out of breath. “I found tracks that lead that direction.” He pointed to the north, where the Shadow Mountains could be seen, their tops hidden by fluffy white clouds. “They tried to hide them, but it is obvious that a great many people and animals headed to the mountains.”

  They ran back to tell the others what Voilor had found. Saemus and Kaelin were happy that there had been no sign of foul play. They had searched the buildings near the Town Center and had been horrified to find Master Brok's house burned to the ground.

  “We need to follow the tracks into the mountains. We must know what has happened here,” Saemus said.

  “Isn't it obviou
s? The Queen is behind this. She is the only one who knew where we lived, and she had every reason to be angry. Angry enough to kidnap Master Brok,” Gwen said.

  “But why would she resort to killing all those people at the villages? They have nothing to do with us!” Keera pointed out.

  The others frowned. They had been sure that Queen Cheye had been behind the kidnapping, but what Keera said made sense. The burned villages, the dead that had been buried or left to hang in the trees did not fit.

  “Something far worse has happened. And somehow we are a part of it, though I don't know how,” Gwen said, shivering. She knew the truth of her words, could feel it. I wonder if this is related to my ability to sense if someone is lying.

  “How could all those deaths possibly have anything to do with us?” Keera asked, eyes wide. “I mean, we haven't even been here!”

  “I don't know. But it all ties in together. We just don't have all of the pieces yet.”

  “Which is why we need to find the villagers. They may be able to explain what has happened and who is responsible,” Jon said.

  Gerok frowned. He was Guardian, and it was his responsibility to watch over the Chosen. Allowing them to continue traveling when there was obvious danger lurking was unacceptable.

  And yet, he found himself agreeing to follow the tracks into the mountains. He too wanted answers, and he did not want to leave his friend to his fate. Besides, I can't force them to return to the portal.

  “We will stay here for the night and then make for the mountains first thing in the morning,” Gerok said. Hang on, old friend! We're coming for you.

  GENTRA

  “I WONDER WHERE they could be,” Martha said. She floated in the library, her pink and purple bell shot through with magenta, indicating her anxiety. She crossed both sets of arms across her body.

  “I'm sure they're fine. Time doesn't work the same when we go through the portals. I bet our Astran and Volgon comrades will be back in no time,” Sloan said. He stood off to the side, looking out one of the large windows at the Gentran landscape. He liked this peaceful world. His thoughts turned to the Chosen from Astra.