by Jeff Gunzel
His panicked breathing began to slow down, the fever starting to break. Feeling better, his body cooling back down, he got back to his feet. Using the front of his cloak, he wiped the sweat from his brow. He felt good…more than good. The burning aches and pains of battle began to fade. His open wounds began closing, and new skin formed, grafting itself together. He took a deep breath, half expecting it to hurt. His lungs filling with cool air felt wonderful. His body was now completely healed. He mouthed a silent “thank you” before continuing on.
The steps were uneven and misshapen, making the danger of tumbling backward a real possibility. But instead of watching his step, he let his mind wander. Thoughts of Jade constantly haunted him. Was she all right? Would she hate him for agreeing to this? And what about Jacob? How was he doing? Last anyone knew, he had snuck off to search for Athel without telling anyone except for Nima. She ultimately confessed to his whereabouts, and even admitted to helping him. Eric wasn’t mad about any of that, though. Jacob needed to walk his own path, just as he did.
And what was going to happen even if he found Athel? Wasn’t the seed a permanent affliction, one that changed its host forever? She wouldn’t hurt him...would she? Best not to think about that. There’s nothing I can do for either of them. Dismissing the troubling thoughts, he pressed on.
It wasn’t long before another platform came into view. A place to rest, maybe? The second test? Only one way to find out. Unlike the first one, this platform was not set directly on the path, but rather on its side. Eric soon found himself parallel with the platform, and easily hopped onto it. Not waiting to see what was going to happen, he unleashed Spark in a roar of fire and ash, then pointed it at the mountain’s cracked face.
“Is this where you attempt to kill me once more?” he asked, red flames pulsing down the blade. Eric felt strange talking to a mountain, but it was clearly self-aware. It seemed to exist only to destroy the Gate Keeper. That was its purpose. Therefore, he deemed it an enemy. And like all Eric’s enemies, it needed to die. There were no bodies anywhere on this platform. “Am I the first ever to stand here?” He waited patiently for his answer while Spark crackled with angry fire.
Lightning flashed repeatedly, illuminating the mountain’s jagged surface. The way the light hit the rock from different angles made it seem like faces were appearing, then disappearing. Mother nature’s clever illusion; one that played tricks on the mind. Contorted faces twisted in pain, whiles others seemed to laugh and grin. Each time the lightning flashed from a different angle, some of the faces seemed to trade places with each other. A clever illusion. A fine trick indeed.
The low rumble of thunder sounded just as heavy rain began to fall in an instant downpour that soaked him to the bone, making Spark hiss defiantly while hot flame licked the heavy droplets. Another green flash lit up the Mountain of Dreams, forcing Eric to step back. Those imagined faces, they were real!
Like a flood, dozens of dwarf men fell from the mountainside, landing on the platform with the grace of cats. Some had the faces of humans, looking like young boys at first glance. Others were so gnarled and deformed, they appeared more like demons. Large noses, red eyes and hooked horns twisted from their warped heads. But their bodies were all nearly identical: short, gray and completely naked. Each holding a curvy-bladed dagger in one hand, they rumbled towards Eric like a swarm of insects.
Caught off guard, Eric gripped his sword, ready for battle. Their incessant chirping was earsplitting. They sounded like a swarm of cicadas unleashed upon the mountainside. When the torrent of little creatures reached his feet, Eric let out a fierce battle cry. He sent Spark through the first wave in a wide, sweeping swing meant to take out as many as he could. But the fiery blade passed right through them like smoke.
Panic surged through him when he felt no resistance from the swing, as if he had missed them all. But he couldn’t have. On reflex alone, he dove to the side, allowing the first wave to rumble past. He completed a somersault, then sprung back to his feet, waving his apparently useless blade. Eric turned left then right, looking, the fire from his blade the only source of light. Where did they go? It was as if they just disappeared.
Having no idea where they went or from which direction they might attack next, his panic returned tenfold. Turning at the shriek of a high-pitched cackle echoing from the darkness, he pointed his blade in that direction. Suddenly, fire shot up the side of his leg. He clutched at the wound while watching one of the little creatures scamper off into the darkness. All he could get was a mere glimpse of horns and a wide smile before it was gone.
The wound wasn’t too deep, but enough to draw blood. Trying to ignore the sting, he limped on one leg, eyes searching the darkness. “Show yourselves, cowards!” he called out, looking around frantically. “You hide within the shadows like rodents. What sort of test is this?” Shrill, mocking laughter followed his words. It came from the left...no, right. Eric spun about helplessly, trying to keep his blade between himself and the next threat. He couldn’t ignore the bloodcurdling shriek directly behind him. He turned, but knew it was a deception the moment he committed.
Another burst of pain shot up the back of his other leg. This cut was deeper. He stumbled forward, throwing his sword in frustration. It obviously wasn’t going to help him anyway. Eric dropped to his knees as impish laughter cackled all around him. Their shrill little squeaks were accompanied by that chirping, cicada-like sound. What could he do against such perversions of nature? Unassuming and small, they appeared to be immune to all physical attacks. Weapons seemed useless against them.
He closed his eyes, deciding they were just as useless as his sword. Each time the little imps wounded him, he never caught more than the slightest glimpse of one. Why didn’t they all just rush him at once? After all, he was defenseless. Was this the mountain’s way of humiliating him? To cut him down, bit by bit, thus drawing out the sadistic game? To prolong the agony as long as possible?
He searched his memory for some clue, some bit of training that might help him here. What was it that his father told him? Of all your senses, trust your eyes the least. That old, familiar voice bounced around in his head. If you really want to see the truth, don’t use them. “I remember, father,” he whispered.
The impish cackling continued. Rather than try and fight through the darkness, searching for them with his crippled sight, he searched with his mind. Rather than listen to their taunting voices, he focused on their energy. Sound could not be trusted; the eyes could be deceived. But a living being’s essence, the very energy that gave them life, could not be masked so easily.
Applying his mind’s eye, he could feel each one of them hiding in the darkness. Their faces twisted up into demonic grins. Without seeing them, he became more aware of their presence than ever. The charred, ancient writings burned into his flesh began to crackle with energy. A golden light sparkled up and down his arms and across his neck. Now locked onto their life forces, he could feel each one of the little fiends.
Noticing that something was a little off about his behavior, the creatures decided to end his torture. They all charged at once in a flood of little gray bodies with twisted features, each waving a blade in circles over their heads. He could feel them, each one giving off its own distinct, unnatural energy.
Still on his knees, Eric reached out with both hands. Golden light shot from his eyes and mouth as he let out a scream so deafening, so thunderous, it shook the mountain itself. Yellow lines of crackling energy radiated up and down his arms, riding along the burnt markings. Dozens of glimmering golden holes opened up before him, each placed directly in the path of one of these charging creatures.
Their screeching battle cries swiftly became squeals of terror and pain. Most slid directly into the glowing portals only to have them snap shut, crushing them like a mouse trap. The few that were able to stop in time turned to run back to the safety of the mountain. Surely the Mountain of Dreams would protect them from this sudden turn of events, rescue them from t
heir impending slaughter.
Eric let out another roar, an unworldly battle cry no human could have produced. Pushing his hands out farther, the golden portals obeyed. They began to drift along, chasing the handful of creatures who had escaped instant death. Reaching the wall of stone, the little demons jumped up and down, clawing at the side of the mountain, pleading to be let back in.
The shimmering holes hit them from behind, pressing them against the stone. They shrieked with pain, faces grinding against cold rock. Eric could end it whenever he wanted with a flick of his wrist, but he didn’t. Deep down inside, some animalistic part of him enjoyed dishing out such pain, prolonging their agony. A moment ago, these things were trying to kill him. And they weren’t going to be quick about it, either. Why should he show them mercy? He crushed them slowly, inch by inch.
A twinge of guilt struck his heart as he ground them into the stone. Not for them; they more than deserved their fate. But what if Jade could see him now? What would she say? Would she even recognize the merciless monster standing before her? Enough, he thought. There is nothing more to prove here. Clenching his fists, the golden doorways snapped down on their prey in a burst of yellow sparkles. The monsters’ harrowing shrieks were short-lived. Death came instantly.
Silent lightning flashed over and over, the only light source illuminating the stone wall before him. A gentle breeze lifted the lower portion of his blue cloak, making it flap and dance like a ghost. He just wanted to stand here a moment longer...and enjoy the silence.
* * *
“That’s it, dear,” said Nima, her voice tight with strain. “Steady it. Steady it. Now push back towards me. Good, you’re getting it.” Jade bared her teeth, forehead furrowed from tension. She leaned forward with her hands out, driving her Chi energy back into Nima. “Yes, dear, that’s it.” Nima’s feet were actually beginning to slide along the ground as she was pushed backwards.
The drill had been going on back and forth for several hours now. It was a basic exercise, practiced by all Palins in training. The exercise required two, so each was partnered with another student. One would go on the offensive, pushing forward with their Chi, pressing against the other. The second student would absorb the pressure for a time, then the two would switch roles. The second student would begin to push, forcing the first to use their Chi defensively, trying to resist the push. And in this manner they would go back and forth.
The drill taught the students to hold their Chi for long periods of time. It also trained them to shift its form within their bodies, transitioning from an offensive push to a defensive shield. The two actions were very different, and many lost focus during the shift. It was not unusual for a student to go flying across the room because they could not reshape their Chi fast enough.
In the hours that Jade and Nima had been practicing, Jade appeared to be getting better by the minute. Her control was improving, and her command of her energy had excelled. “I’ll make a master out of you yet,” grunted Nima, her feet slipping backward once more. Focusing hard, she narrowed her own energy into a thin line. Centering that single line of power, she sliced back through Jade’s pushing energy like a knife.
Jade refocused quickly, shifting her Chi into a defensive force, absorbing Nima’s push. She could now make the transition with ease, a feat that had proved quite difficult only an hour ago. “Is that all you can do?” said Jade, teasing. She tried to play it off as if this were a simple task for her, but in reality the strain was very intense. “Perhaps I should be teaching you.” Despite her teasing, the heavy strain in her voice implied otherwise.
A slight rustle in the bushes gained their attention, putting a stop to the back-and-forth exercise. They watched with surprise when a short, slim girl broke through the shrubbery. Her short hair was pulled back in a red band, and her drab, brown clothing hung loosely around her petite body. Upon seeing Jade and Nima, she immediately bowed her head. “Excuse me,” she said softly, eyes low. “I’m sorry to disturb you both.”
“Toyono?” said Nima, eyes wide with surprise. “How did you— What are you doing here?”
“My apologies,” said the young girl, looking more nervous by the second. “Several times I’ve watched you come this way, through the trees. Out of curiosity, I followed you once. That’s how I knew you would be here.” Nima’s mouth worked wordlessly, not knowing what to say. Toyono’s eyes widened, sensing Nima’s alarm. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me,” she blurted out. “I will never tell anyone of your hidden sanctuary. No one saw me enter here. I made sure of that.”
Nima relaxed a little, still eyeing Jade with an unsure look. She raised her eyebrow suspiciously. “Then why exactly are you here?”
“It’s the Circle, they’re looking for you; both of you.” Jade and Nima glanced at one another. “It’s about the Shantie Rhoe. You better follow me.”
But it was Toyono who ended up following as the other two bolted from the clearing and down the hidden path. Jade peeked her head through the forest leaves, only half-heartedly checking to see if anyone was nearby. She sprinted down the dirt street, followed closely by Nima. The streets were quiet, save for a few children and the occasional woman folding freshly washed blankets. The relatively empty streets worried Jade even further. Where is everyone?
When they turned the next corner—the Circle’s quarters just up ahead—Jade’s question was quickly answered. The street was flooded with people, many wearing white face paint and long, black cloaks. Nearing the door, the crowd became even denser. Jade dipped her shoulder, then began slinking her way through the people. Neither her nor Nima stopped to talk to anyone, but the gossip buzzing around them made it clear what was going on. Eric had passed the first two trials, and the village was now bustling with energy.
After finally making their way to the front, Jade was the first to storm through the hanging beads. Three soldiers staring down at her through their wicker helmets moved to block her path, but it only took them a moment to recognize who she was. They sidestepped, allowing both her and Nima to pass while muttering apologies.
Wara was there waiting, along with the twins, who were seated near the far wall. Her cold, green eyes looked them up and down expectantly, as if waiting for some sort of apology. Jade, fed up with the Circle’s arrogance, met her gaze. “He’s on the third trial?” said Jade, breaking the silence, ignoring Nima’s tugging at her from behind. Jade did not answer to the Circle and was not in a particularly tolerant mood. “Why didn’t you send for us earlier?”
“Because nobody knew where you were, you ignorant child!” Wara replied, clearly not in a very tolerant mood herself. “If you and your little friend here are done playing Palin, perhaps you would like to witness the final test with the rest of us.” She gestured towards a white globe on the table. “Soon, he will be challenged with the final test. And I, for one, am eager to see if he is who he claims to be.”
Nima attempted to grab Jade’s robe, but she broke free and lunged towards Wara, stopping an inch from her nose. Face to face, they glared at one another for some time before Jade finally spoke, “Although I am aware that I stand upon foreign soil, my friends and I have gone to great lengths to abide by the ways of your culture. We have done our best to honor your chain of command and show respect at all times.”
“Fair enough, child,” said Wara with an eye flutter and a dismissive wave. “I’ll consider tha—”
“I am not finished,” Jade interrupted, her crystal blue eyes blazing like shiny sapphires. “You’ve separated me from the one I’m sworn to protect, all because of your ancient laws. And out of respect for you and your people, I stood down and allowed it. In the meantime, I’ve done the only thing I could to help ensure the Gate Keeper’s protection upon his return. I was not playing, I was sharpening my skills further so I might become an even more efficient killer.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “And if the Gate Keeper does not return from this Mountain of Dreams,” her voice lowered to a whisper, “I’ll hold you per
sonally responsible for the world’s loss. With my role in this diminished and no one left to protect, revenge will become my only reason for existence.”
* * *
Morita drifted down the mirrored hall. Graceful, light on her feet, she hardly seemed to touch the floor. Her hips swayed with each step, her slim figure accentuated by a clinging yellow slip. With its low neckline and single strap hanging loosely from her shoulder, her ample bosom seemed one deep breath away from spilling out.
As she turned the corner, a wicked smile flashed across her full lips. She stopped in front of the door, hand on the knob, and purposefully turned it slowly. Morita wanted to make her entrance felt. She gently pushed back the door with a light, creaking sound. Inside were two frightened servants, waiting for her just as instructed.
“Well, hello, Aosa,” said Morita to the unclothed girl sprawled out across the bed. Her flowing blonde hair, spilling across two pillows, stood out against the dark-red sheets. Her dark eyes held unimaginable terror as she trembled, too frightened to move. Swallowing hard, she rolled her head to the side, exposing a neck covered with white, puckered scars that looked old, obviously built up over time, despite how young she looked.
Morita drifted up to the edge of the bed like a ghost. She leaned in, riding her moist, forked tongue along the girl’s neck, tracing each scar with careful attention. It left a thin, translucent coating of saliva. She retracted her snakelike tongue, smacking her lips and savoring the taste of the girl’s young flesh. “Tempting, darling, but not today,” she whispered, running a finger along the girl’s neck, down between her breasts, then placing it in her own mouth. Morita didn’t look convinced, as if she might be having second thoughts about her choice of entertainment this evening.
“Tonight, I will only be a spectator. I promise I’ll do no more than watch.” Morita gestured towards the young man seated at a nearby table. He flinched, as he’d been hoping he’d somehow been forgotten. “Rise, young man, and come around to this side,” she said, suddenly breathless, her chest heaving in and out. The young man, wearing only a shirt, stood hesitantly. Trying to pull the shirt down to cover himself, he slowly came around to her side. Even with long, dark hair matted down over his angular face, she could see he was as frightened as the girl. Morita’s reputation for being completely unpredictable frightened all the servants.