by Jeff Gunzel
A shrill ringing sound forced her to look back. Had they killed him? She didn’t want to see, yet couldn’t force herself to look away. The two swordsmen had stopped their movement, each standing perfectly still. Two small points appeared to protrude from each of their backs. When the points retracted back into their bodies, the two mercenaries fell to the ground, armored chests stained with blood, eyes wide open. Jarlen stood still, his bladed hands melting back into his arms, blood trickling from his fingertips down his wrists.
He glanced left and right, then fired out his arms once more as freshly formed blades impaled two more mercenaries. Jarlen looked at Assirra, his bloodred eyes cold and uncaring. The flesh blades retracted once more, sending two more bodies crumpling to the ground. He shook his wet, sticky hands, sending drops of liquid red speckling across the ground.
“Oh no,” Assirra muttered, barely able to generate any sound. It was all like a bad dream. All she wanted to do was wake up. Having seen enough, Rykun scrambled back towards his wagon, leaping up in a single jump. “No more, Jarlen. It’s not too late,” Assirra pleaded, her eyes filled with tears. “You’re better than this. Stop. Stop now!”
Slowly, Jarlen shook his head back and forth, his black lips curling up into a faint smile. “You’re wrong,” he sneered, before turning to face the last two. Already they were in full retreat, running down the road in a full panic. “This is exactly what I am.” In a burst of speed, he caught up to them within seconds, easily impaling each from behind. Not even stopping to savor the effortless victory, he leapt into the air and began spinning around. The funnel of black birds streaked back the other way, heading straight for the fleeing wagon.
“You don’t have to do this,” Assirra screamed as he blurred over her head. “No more bloodshed, please! Just let him be!”
The rider snapped his reins, urging the horses on as fast as they could gallop. Panic gripping his heart, he glanced back again and again, his only hope being to put as much distance between himself and that creature as possible. Suddenly, a squawking funnel blurred up into the seat next to him. Liquid black, the form melted together into a humanoid shape. Tranquil red eyes stared Rykun right in the face.
“I just don’t understand it,” said Jarlen, his voice icy calm. “She keeps me hidden away from the humans as well as the tarrins, and says it’s for my own protection. But it’s so clear to me now. You are all just like sheep, whereas I am the wolf.” He grinned, black lips stretching back to reveal all his perfect, white teeth.
“No. Please, I’m begging you,” Rykun pleaded, his whole body trembling as the reins slipped from his hands.
“I expect to hear a lot of that in the coming years,” Jarlen whispered. “For you see, I am not the one who needs protecting. A being as weak as you isn’t meant to survive.” He lunged, teeth sinking deep into Rykun’s neck. The driver’s high-pitched scream soon became a wet gurgle as blood fled his body at an alarming rate. For Jarlen, this final kill was no longer about revenge. He would feed on this flesh bag simply because he wanted to.
All Assirra could see from her view was the wagon drift off the road before turning over on its side. “Jarlen!” she called, running towards the wreck. Upon seeing his outline through the rising dust, she slowed, approaching with caution. “Jarlen?” she repeated, unsure of what to make of what she had just witnessed. He approached, his hood pulled low to shadow his face. Even from here, she could see the dark blood dripping from the bottom of his chin. He stopped in front of her, standing in silence. She glanced over his shoulder at the overturned wagon; one of its wheels was still spinning. “What have you done?” she gasped, her soft voice a stuttering whisper.
“You were wrong,” he said, thick drops of blood trickling from his chin before speckling the dirt at his feet. “Humans are nothing to fear. They are nothing at all.”
“How could you?” She dropped to her knees, tears flowing down her cheeks. “They had the right to live. All creatures have the right to live!”
Jarlen threw back his hood, his bloodstained face cold and emotionless. “Not all of them,” he said, pushing past her to head back to the chapel.
With bloody bodies littering the street, Assirra wept there for hours. That innocent boy was nothing more than a cold-blooded killer. There was no way he could live among the tarrins. For the sake of her own safety as well as the entire village’s, something had to be done.
Assirra paused a long while, clearly pained from reliving the agonizing memory. “I waved down the next caravan I saw,” she eventually went on. “I told them the truth about what had happened. Of course, they could see the bodies for themselves. They promised to report the information to the king once they reached Shadowfen. Three whole days I lived with that monster, pretending everything was all right, pretending he had done nothing wrong! Each night I feared for my life, wondering whether or not he might kill me in my sleep.
“On the fourth day they sent a group of hunters to wait out on the road. Once again I led Jarlen out that way, but this time they were ready for him.”
“You tricked him?” asked Viola.
“I had no choice!” Assirra responded. “He was dangerous. I had to do something.” She shook her head, rubbing her temples. “They used some kind of collar that suppressed his abilities, then carted him away. I haven’t heard from him since. More than one traveling merchant has told me they now force him to fight as entertainment for the privileged. I can neither confirm nor deny such rumors.” Assirra looked at Viola. “So now you know that you are not completely unique in this world. There is at least another just like you.”
“But I still don’t understand,” said Viola. “Who is he? Where did he—”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Viola,” Assirra said softly. “He is your kin. I knew it the moment I saw you. Jarlen is your brother.”
Chapter 3
If the room was silent before, it was truly quiet as a graveyard now. The subtle grunt of Thatra clearing her throat from the corner sounded like thunder in comparison. The tension in the air was thick as Assirra and Viola locked eyes, neither willing to look away.
“I have a brother?” Viola asked, slowly enunciating each drawn word. “You knew this and said nothing until now. How long were you planning to keep this from me?”
“My silence on the subject was never an attempt to deceive you,” Assirra assured her. “Until now, there were higher priorities that had to be dealt with. This information was unimportant.”
“Unimportant? He even lived with you for a time and you never thought to tell me? Apparently it was important enough to tell Liam!”
“He is the reason I am telling you now,” Assirra said in a firm tone. “If not for his request, I’m not so certain I would have ever told anyone. And what does it matter, anyway? This was years ago, and I certainly never thought I would see another of your kind. We don’t even know if he’s still alive.”
“And even if he is still alive,” Liam interrupted, “the man is a murderous monster. This is not a person you would ever want in your life.”
“That decision is not yours to make!” Viola screeched, an eerie hiss echoing from all directions at once. Everyone jumped in their seats, eyes gazing around the room as if their minds were playing tricks on them. She glared at Liam, those red eyes flaring with more anger than he had ever seen in her before. “I know I am a burden to you as well as a freak, but I’ve always tried to be honest with you. I don’t know which I find more shocking, to find out that I may actually have family after all these years of being alone, or the fact that you tried to keep it from me!” She got up and stormed outside. The room fell silent once more.
Weeping, she ran down the stairway. From ground level, she looked up at the walkways above. Through her teary, blurred vision, she could make out all the tarrins pointing down at her, whispering, wondering what the sudden commotion was about. But in her mind they were laughing, mocking her, amused by the freak’s pain. With a whimper, she ran off a short w
ays into the forest. Here, she could be alone, away from prying eyes.
Finding a quiet area to rest, she ran her hand across the seeded tops of some tall grass. The patch seemed odd, given the light-starved, stunted vegetation surrounding the area. Little grew in these shaded areas. Her mind drifted as she waved her hand back and forth, allowing the fuzzy seeds to tickle her palm. “I have a brother,” she whispered to herself, as if she only now had accepted of that fact. “But how?”
Viola searched her memory as she had done so many times before, hoping some fragment or hint of her past might present itself. But as always, even her earliest thoughts only consisted of Ethan. From her earliest memory, he had always been there, reminding her daily that she was his physical property. And he treated her as such to make sure she would never doubt his claim to her body.
And why should she have ever doubted her assigned role? If not for him, she would have surely been homeless, left on the streets to feed off rats or some other low-level blood source. Or more likely been discovered by the night watch and been put in a cage for the humans to gawk at. Like... Like... “Like my brother.” Why couldn’t she remember him? Why couldn’t she remember anything? It was infuriating.
“Don’t ye be touching that one,” came a gruff voice from behind. Her eyes drifted to her hand, only now realizing her fingers were inches away from a yellow-spotted mingus plant. She jerked away as Owen walked up with a stick in hand. He lightly swiped the leafy end across the whiskered pod that hung open like a clam. Slowly, it folded shut around the leaves while appearing to burp up a sprinkle of yellow dust. “If that powder touches yer hand, you’ll be itching for days,” he said with a cackle. Just the thought made Viola start scratching at her hand. He slid the stick out from the clamped pod and tossed it aside. “Are you all right?” he asked, getting right to the point.
“I’m fine,” she lied with a shrug, wiping the last bit of moisture from her eyes. “Why do you care, anyway?”
“Oh, I care quite a bit,” said Owen, sitting down on the grass, then patting the spot beside him. Viola flopped down with her legs crossed, face pushed down between her palms. “I don’t blame ye for being upset,” he went on. “Just be sure yer upset for the right reasons. Finding out that you have a lost brother is a lot to drop on anyone’s plate, but don’t believe for a minute that anyone was trying to deceive ye. When was Liam supposed to tell you? Should he have mentioned it when we were fighting off the laberaths? Or maybe the day after, when we were collecting dead bodies from around the village? Viola, he was just waiting for the right time, and that time was today.”
“He’s never even met my brother, but still, he called him a murderous monster,” Viola sniffed.
“Aye, he did indeed,” Owen admitted with a shrug. “You know who else he’s called a murderous monster?” Proudly, he thumped himself on the chest. Viola grinned. “But in all fairness, he’s hardly the first one who’s called me that. In fact, it be easier to count the people who haven’t called me that.” That time Viola covered her mouth to smother a giggle. “So all I’m saying is that you should probably just let it go for now. Two days ago it seemed like the whole world was trying to kill us. Today, not only are we still breathing, but it turns out you might have some family you didn’t even know about. Not a bad improvement for just a couple of days, aye? Instead of being mad, I think you should be grateful.”
Owen turned sharply to the sounds of galloping coming from the other side of the brush. It was a ways off but approaching quickly. Hearing it too, Viola began to stand up when Owen gently pushed her back by the shoulder.
“Well, it’s about time,” Owen called out, branches and trees rattling only a short distance away. It was so close that it sounded like a stampede of wild horses. A bone-plated head with spiraling horns burst through the greenery, its broad body taking down bushes as well as small trees. Trotting right behind the lavics was Xavier’s sleek black warhorse, its silver chainmail body armor shining even in the shadowed light of dense forest. “See, I told you they knew where to go. I just didn’t know they’d take so long.” His lavics snorted, as if insulted by the comment.
The hunter rose from the grass, reaching down to help Viola to her feet. “Well, that’s it then, we’re all out of excuses to keep stalling,” he said. “Now that our beasts have returned, it’s high time we moved on. I imagine we’ll leave at first light.” Together, they walked back to the temple.
When Owen and Viola entered the front room, there were maps laid out all over the table. “Our pets have returned,” said the hunter, eyes scanning the table.
“Oh, was that the deafening crash we heard taking down half the forest?” asked Liam, glancing up just long enough to flash Viola a wink. She smiled, thankful the old man never seemed to take her emotional outbursts all that seriously. As usual, he would just go about his business as if nothing had happened. “To be honest, we were taking bets on whether or not we were in the middle of an earthquake.”
Briefly, Owen feigned an exaggerated laugh before his face turned back to icy stone.
“That creature of yours is not exactly a stealthy thing, is it?” the mystic added, clearly determined keep taking verbal jabs at Owen until he got a reaction.
“Oh, she’s plenty stealthy when she needs to be,” the hunter retorted. “That is, if you believe in those sorts of cowardly tactics. Personally, I like ramming a blade down my enemies’ throat. But I can imagine someone like yeself might prefer to hide in a bush and wait till it’s over.”
“Enough, both of you,” Assirra interrupted, clearly not entertained by two grown men throwing jabs at each other. “If you’re both trying to prove that human males have all the maturity of tarrin children, then you need not say another word. It’s a wonder your race has survived this long.” Both men pressed their lips together in an attempt to smother their grins.
“What is all this?” asked Viola, wandering up to the table. She gazed at the parchments scribbled with numbers, symbols, and crude landscapes. Mostly, it was confusing gibberish to her. She picked up one of the parchments, turning it from side to side.
“We’ve decided on a destination,” said Liam. “And no, we’re not heading towards Shadowfen,” he added quickly the moment Viola opened her mouth. “I know that’s what you were hoping to hear, but we just can’t risk it. We’re trying to keep you hidden, remember? A large city is probably the last place we should go.”
“But—”
“No buts,” he interrupted. “This is the only option we have right now. It is settled.”
“Why don’t you join me over here?” Xavier suggested, motioning to her from the corner. “I’ll fill you in on what Liam is talking about.” Grabbing a chair, Viola dragged it over to sit near him.
“Liam’s right, you know,” he explained. “We have to keep you out of the cities for as long as possible. Right now, the fewer eyes you have on you, the better. Assirra suggested how we might do that.”
“And what did she suggest?” Viola asked, suspicious.
“We’re going to take you to see the nezzerians.” Predictably, she stared at him with a blank expression. “They live deep in the forest, and Assirra suspects they may be willing to help us.”
“But why should we trust these nezzerians more than other humans?” she asked, not sounding very fond of the idea so far.
Xavier shifted in his chair uncomfortably. “Well, there are several reasons as to why this is probably the best course of action, actually. For one, we can still keep you hidden without leaving the forest. We need to avoid cities and towns as much as possible. Another reason is the nezzerians’ reputation. They believe in fairness and equality like no other race. You could argue that it’s their sole purpose in life.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean by that?”
Xavier tapped his chin, thinking about how he might go about explaining something he’d known and understood for years to someone who knew virtually nothing of the world. “They believe in balanc
e of nature,” he said after a time. “They think all forces in the world are intertwined somehow. For example, good found in the world only exists when compared to evil. Neither is right or wrong, since they cancel each other out. A lion chasing a deer for food is not an evil act, but neither is the deer running for its life even if the lion can’t catch it and starves. It’s all a balance of nature. Does that make sense to you?”
“I guess so,” Viola replied. “But what about a true killer? How would they defend the actions of someone who killed for no reason at all?”
“They believe the act of murder will get balanced by another good deed somewhere else in the world,” Xavier said with a shrug. “Over here an innocent bystander gets a knife plunged into their chest, while over here a drowning child gets pulled from a frozen lake. Although the acts are completely unrelated, they pull from the same reserves of energy. Balance in the world has been achieved.”
“That sounds really strange to me,” Viola admitted, scratching her head. “And I’m still not sure what any of that has to do with me. Why does that way of thinking make them more likely to help us?”
Sinking back in his chair, Xavier let out a deep breath. “Because protecting you protects the balance of nature,” he said. “If you were to be...sacrificed...and the ghatins were suddenly set loose upon the world,” he tugged at his collar, clearly uncomfortable with the topic, “then the amount of death released upon the world could very well be catastrophic. Instantly, the balance between life and death would be thrown out of proportion.” Viola nodded, hugging herself for comfort against the uncomfortable talk of her own death.
“Please understand, I’m trying to explain things through their eyes,” Xavier quickly pointed out. “This is how they think.” He took her by the hand and looked into her eyes. “I...don’t care anything about balance in the world.” He gently squeezed her hand. “I promised to keep you safe, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep that promise. My loyalty lies with you, not them.”