Shattered Destiny

by West, Shay

  “My people shave their heads. We have noticed most travelers are especially attached to their hair, so I will not ask you to shave your heads.”

  “Why would we need to shave our heads?” Kaelin looked horrified as she held her hair in both hands.

  “Despite there being little life in the Blasted Lands, one thing we have in abundance is fleas. They nest in hair. If there is no hair, there is nowhere for them to nest.”

  Keera didn't know what was worse - tthe thought of cutting off her curly hair or finding it full of blood-sucking insects.

  The Nomad noticed her expression and chuckled. “If you follow my instructions to the letter, there is little chance you will become infested.”

  He also showed them how to wrap the long tail end of the head wrap around their faces. “This will protect your face from the brunt of the sun and help to conserve moisture.

  “Now. We are entering a dangerous land. If the mountains don't kill you, the desert surely will, if you don't follow my instructions. When I give you an order, I expect it to be followed, and quickly. If you can't agree to that, I refuse to guide you.”

  The group agreed to the terms, becoming more nervous about this journey. The Astrans had heard stories about the Blasted Lands their whole lives. They had assumed they were tall tales meant to frighten children. Now, they were not so certain.

  The Nomad checked the camels, peering into their eyes, checking their lashes, their teeth, their hoofs, running his hands expertly over their bodies, thumping on their humps, and checking the food and water stores. He nodded in grudging respect. “The animals are healthy and will perform admirably. You have done well, for outsiders.”

  “What is so hard about picking out a camel?” Keera snorted.

  The man stared at her until she flushed and turned away. “Your camel is your life. A person can't carry enough water to survive even the mountains. Camels are built for the heat. Their flat feet enable them to travel over the sand while using the least amount of energy. You will need to wear these once we reach the desert.” He pointed to a bunch of flat, woven oval shaped shoes hanging from the side of the largest beast. “They make traveling over the sand easier.” He nodded toward the camels once more. “Their humps store a great deal of water. A camel can live for over a week on the water in these humps. If your camel is sick, or injured, you will not survive long. Guides refuse to take people across the mountains if their camels are not in peak condition.”

  Keera stood speechless. She'd had no idea they were that important. She stared at the animals, quietly chewing their cud, with newfound respect.

  The Nomad took the lead while the others followed. He instructed them to keep the camels in the middle of the group. “While most of my people won't bother us, there are always rogue bands that wish to keep strangers out of our lands. They will go for the camels, either stealing them or killing them, thus forcing us to return to the greenlands.”

  “Greenlands?” Saemus asked.

  “That is what we call the area over the mountains. Compared to our country, yours is very green to us.”

  The group was silent, wishing now more than ever the Mekans had landed somewhere else. It didn't sound safe traveling through the desert and many wondered if they would survive to meet the Kromins.

  “It is highly unlikely a group this large will be attacked. Keeping the animals in the middle is merely a precaution.”

  While they appreciated the attempt to make them feel better, Saemus and Jon were just as glad they had purchased the swords back in Neera.

  “What is your name, friend?” Saemus asked. He realized they should have asked the man sooner, but they had been busy changing, and then he had them walking down the dirt path toward the mountains.

  “I am called Shel Nal’ Vi.”

  The group introduced themselves. The man didn't say anything, merely nodded and kept walking. He soon set a pace that made it impossible to talk.

  “Can we slow down? I can't breathe!” Keera groaned. She looked at Gwen and felt a pang of guilt. As difficult as it was for her to move quickly, it was doubly difficult for the dwarf girl. And yet she never voiced complaint.

  “I told you we must reach the mountains before dark.”

  “Why does it matter?”

  The man stopped to face the girl. “I am the guide. I told you to do what I tell you. If you do not wish to do so, you may go back to town and try to find someone else who is willing to take you across the mountains.” He stood for a moment before walking toward the mountains again, which grew larger with every step they took.

  Keera stuck out her tongue at the man's back but picked up her pace, gasping for breath.

  Shel Nal’ Vi led the group south along the edges of the foothills. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, though there was no trail or landmarks of any kind. He led them to a stand of trees that had sprouted next to a fresh spring. It bubbled out of the rocks near the base of the mountains.

  There was a large pile of wood near a ring of stones. As he started building a fire, he ordered them to scour the region for more wood. At their frowns of confusion, he spoke quietly.

  “This is a well-known camp that my people use. It is customary to leave it as it was found. That means gathering more wood to leave for the next group that comes along.”

  “Can't we go for wood tomorrow before we leave? It's getting dark.” Keera glanced nervously over her shoulder to the prairie.

  “Prairie cats are more active at dawn, but by all means, if you would rather wait till then… If we had been able to get here earlier, you would have been able to search by the light of day.” He rubbed two sticks of wood rapidly together, tendrils of smoke drifting from the woodpile.

  “Can't we just use our power to make light? Then we wouldn't have to use the wood at all.” Kaelin suggested. She, too, was nervous about wandering in the dark.

  “It's more than just the light. They fear the smell of fire. Out here, in these great open spaces, fire means death,” Shel Nal’ Vi said.

  “You girls stay here and get supper ready. We men will go gather the wood,” Sloan said, giving Keera a wink. She stuck her tongue out at him but was grateful to be able to stay near the roaring fire the Nomad had started.

  Shel Nal’ Vi set four to each watch. He told them to spread out and remain vigilant. “Our fire should keep the prairie cats at bay. Keep special watch over the beasts. They will often know a cat is around before you do. If you see anything, make sure to sound the alarm.” The Nomad took to his blankets and promptly fell asleep.

  * * *

  The night passed without incident, though Sloan, Keera, and Voilor did see a prairie cat walk by at the furthest edge of the light from the fire. It stood as tall as an antlered horse, with paws that could take their heads off with one swipe. It had golden-green eyes that sparkled in the fire light. It bared razor-sharp teeth before moving on. The fire reflected off its long, curly, tawny fur. The three had held their breath until the big cat had ghosted away through the tall prairie grass. Even Voilor, who normally wanted to pit his strength against anything, thought that perhaps the huge predator was not something he wanted to mess with.

  After a quick breakfast, the Astrans used their power to extinguish the fire. Shel Nal’ Vi grunted in amusement. “I never thought those that had the power used it for such mundane things.”

  “What exactly do you think we use it for?” Keera's temper flared.

  “More grandiose things, like healing and foretelling the future.”

  “We use the power for those things. But why dig up dirt to dump on the fire if you can simply use the power? It's faster, and you seem to be in a big hurry. But next time, we can do it your way.” Keera smirked when she saw her words have an effect on the Nomad. She was tired of his superior attitude.

  Gwen groaned. The last thing they needed was to anger their guide. She was convinced that Keera's temper would get them into serious trouble someday.

  “Let's go.” Shel Nal
’ Vi led the group up the mountain using a dirt path that looked like a game trail. He explained it was the only way through the mountains that wouldn't get you killed. “If you come out of the Hills by any other route, you will be dead by the time you reach the bottom.”

  “I don't understand. Why would the route matter? And what would cause our death?” Saemus asked. He was curious about these people.

  “If you come by any route but this, it is a clear indication you are traveling without a guide. All guides use this route. We have watchers that will shoot any intruder with arrows tipped in poison. That will be the cause of your death.”

  Saemus gulped, sorry he had asked. But the scholar in him wanted to know more. “Why are you so protective?”

  “We do not like strangers.”

  “There has to be more to it than that.”

  “Do you always ask this many questions?” The Nomad asked.

  Saemus didn't answer; instead he merely followed the man up the mountain.

  “The practice started during the time of the Great War. Our people had been able to refrain from getting involved in the fighting of the continents. Until the leader of the Eastern continent tried to come across the mountain to “recruit” us.” The Nomad's voice hardened. “We did not take too kindly to being recruited against our will. So we fought them. The Patriarch at the time decided to invade our land. We talked him out of it.”

  Saemus snorted. “I doubt there was much talking involved.”

  “It wasn't long before our efforts to keep the Patriarch from taking our young men changed into simply keeping all strangers from our land. It is better for us.”

  Saemus couldn't blame the Nomads for mistrusting strangers, and yet he wondered why it had gone on for so long. “But we aren't at war anymore. Perhaps you could relax the rules just a little. You are strangers to the rest of the world. Many would like to learn about you.”

  “It is our way. We like being left alone.”

  The path climbed higher and steeper, and soon all of them were huffing and puffing as they made their way to the top. When they reached the summit, Shel Nal’ Vi motioned them all to come forward. There were no trees at this altitude so there was nothing to block their view.

  What they saw filled them with horror.

  It wasn't the sheer cliff of red rocks they would have to traverse to descend off the summit. It wasn't the vast expanse of white sands stretching as far as the eye could see. It wasn't the lack of trees or shrubs or life.

  It was the sight of the Mekans drilling and tearing up the landscape of the Blasted Lands.

  ASTRA

  “THEY'RE REALLY HERE.” Gwen felt like crying and screaming at the same time.

  Their view of the Mekans demonstrated their sheer size. The largest machine spread nearly as far as they could see vertically. Its legs descended from its bulk, sitting atop crumbled mountains. Steam rose from one side. Smaller machines entered and left the large machine.

  “What are they doing?” Gwen asked.

  “They're digging,” Feeror said.

  A giant drill descended from one machine's metal belly and tore up the earth at an incredible rate. Smaller Mekans sifted through the piles, tossing some material to the side and putting some in a hatch that opened at their tops. When they were was full, they rolled to the largest machine and disappeared inside, only to return moments later ready to collect again.

  The Mekans looked like giant metal insects crawling across the desert floor. The moving tracks sent up clouds of dust that partially obscured the machines. It was only when they stopped that they were fully visible. Their metal skins were a strange silvery-blue color that sparkled in the sunlight. The details of their construction were lost in the glare of the sun.

  “We need the Kromins,” Saemus said.

  As a group, the Chosen called out to their telepathic comrades, hoping against hope that they were nearby.

  --There is no need to shout. We can hear you.

  “Where are you?” Saemus spoke aloud, not caring if the Nomad thought he was speaking to himself.

  --We will be there shortly.

  “How shortly? We are staring at a bunch of machines tearing up the land!” Saemus shouted.

  --Not for an hour. Your world is on the other side of the galaxy from Volgon.

  The Chosen and the remaining two Guardians felt helpless. The machines were getting closer to the mountains. In a few hours, it was possible they would cross them and begin making their way across the eastern continent.

  “Let's head down. There is no sense in staying up here,” Forka suggested. It would do them no good to simply sit and wait for their Kromin comrades to arrive. If they were moving, it would help to distract them somewhat.

  Shel Nal’ Vi led them along the summit, searching for the path that would lead them down into the desert. The path the Nomad chose looked like many of the others, but he picked his way with confidence.

  “You knew about them didn't you?”

  The Nomad glanced back quickly at Saemus before looking ahead again. “Yes.”

  Saemus nodded. The Nomad hadn't seem surprised at the metal machines digging up his land. It also explained why the others they'd met in Yis had refused to guide them. “Why did you agree to bring us here? Surely you know how dangerous those things are.”

  “Our bone readers spoke of those that would come to save us. They said they would be in Yis. When I heard you were asking for a guide, I thought perhaps you were the ones the tellers spoke of.”

  There was no more time for talk. The path had become steep and treacherous. They needed every ounce of concentration to keep from falling and sliding down the mountain. The path was littered with sand and scree, and there was no vegetation to hold onto. The camels seemed to have no trouble navigating the steep path. They plodded along much as they did on horizontal ground.

  As they got closer to the desert bottom, the noise of the machines got louder and louder, until the Astran Chosen had to use the power to block the noise.

  “Look out!” the Nomad shouted.

  A scouting droid had rolled closer to the steep mountain range. The rumble of its engines shook the ground. Rocks and boulders rolled down the mountain. The Chosen shouted in alarm as they struggled to scramble down to the desert floor. The camels bawled and jerked against the reins. They wanted to go back up the mountain to safety.

  The Nomad kept a tight grip on the animals, more afraid of losing the water they carried than his own safety. Whether by fate or luck, the man managed to reach the desert floor and hold the reins of the terrified animals in both hands, keeping them from bolting in fear. He struggled to reach an area that offered some shelter beneath an overhang of rock.

  He sent up a prayer as the rocks and boulders rained down. He couldn't see the others from his little shelter.

  Suddenly he heard a blood-curdling scream, then shouting and yelling. His stomach turned when he saw someone fall to the ground. The young man, Saemus, struggled to get up, but it was clear he had broken several bones in the fall. His cries of pain were lost in the noise of the machines and a powerful rumble that got ever louder.

  The Nomad struggled. If he let the camels go to help the lad, they would run, and the group he led would be left helpless, with no water to get them through the journey. If he continued to hide under the shelter, the lad could be crushed by falling debris.

  Suddenly, Saemus went flying, as if he had been picked up by some invisible force and tossed to the side. He landed hard.

  The Nomad cried out as a large boulder landed in the spot where Saemus had been only moments before. It sent up dust and small pebbles which landed on the unconscious boy.

  Kaelin was the first to reach him. The others gathered around, unsure of what to do. Small pebbles and dust still fell. The scouting droid was nearby, drilling and chewing up the desert floor.

  The Nomad called them over, urging them to get under the safety of the overhang.

  “Moving him could kill him!�
�� Kaelin yelled.

  “So could staying here! What if another rock comes crashing down?” Jon asked.

  Saemus once again rose from the ground as if carried by invisible people.

  “Jon, you have to heal him.” Kaelin knelt next to her twin, shaking and sobbing. She smoothed his hair from his brow.

  Saemus was covered in blood. His left arm and right leg were at odd angles. Shel Nal’ Vi wouldn't doubt the boy had serious injuries that couldn't be seen.

  Jon knew he couldn't heal Saemus with his own power. “I will need to use the other magic.”

  “I don't care what you have to use. Just do it.” Kaelin snarled.

  Jon blinked. “So you're okay with me using the dark magic as long as it suits you, is that it?”

  Kaelin refused to meet his eyes. “Just save my brother.”

  “Your wish is my command,” Jon said mockingly, as he took a deep breath and prepared himself for the raging fire he was about to feel moving through his veins. It's been so long.

  Before he could draw on the forbidden magic, the tale of the mad Lord Lucian flashed through his mind.

  I'm stronger than Anali. I'm one of the Chosen.

  The forbidden magic filled him as nothing else ever had. It made him feel alive, invincible, unstoppable.

  Shel Nal’ Vi backed away as inky darkness covered Jon's blue eyes. His skin prickled, and the tiny hairs on the nape of his neck stood on end. He moved his hands in the complex series of movements his people believed could ward off evil spirits.

  Jon knelt next to Saemus’ head and gently laid his hands on the boy's chest. Jon's body arched back, and a groan of ecstasy escaped his lips. A strange, orangish-yellow light emanated from between his hands and suffused Saemus’ upper body, moving slowly into his extremities. It looked as though his bones were on fire from within.

  Saemus cried out as the light moved down his body, knitting together sinew, bone, and muscle. Kaelin sobbed and rocked back and forth, wringing her hands. She wanted to lay her hands on her brother, hoping her touch would bring some comfort.