by Jeff Gunzel
“To life,” Liam repeated as they clinked their drinks. Throwing his back with vigor, he nearly drained it one swallow.
Chapter 10
“And this is what you have come all this way to tell me?” came a voice from the doorway. Spiritists shuffled about, moving to either side as Rishima made her way into the room.
“Yes, that is correct,” Hamas said, rising to his feet to greet the young woman. “At last. You must be—”
“Curious,” Rishima said. Despite her icy demeanor, she still allowed the old man to take her hand. Keeping his eyes on hers, he lightly kissed the back of it. She raised an eyebrow, having to admit that this old human did seem to have a certain charm about him. “I’m curious as to why you chose now to come forward with this information, Hamas. You had years to do so. What has changed?”
“Everything has changed,” he answered smugly, dipping his head in a shallow bow before sitting back down. “My work had to be kept secret. The world was not ready to learn of what I was attempting to do. Why, it would have turned into a witch-hunt overnight. I would have been burned or hanged. And quite frankly, neither of those options appeals much to me.”
“You would have been hunted because you tried to play god,” Rishima said. “And from what I’ve seen, humans aren’t exactly the most tolerant race.”
“Tried implies that he only made an attempt,” Liam added. “I must point out that the attempt was a success. This man created life. And therefore, has indeed played god.” Hamas raised his goblet in silent toast before taking another long, healthy gulp.
“You mentioned a brother and sister as being your first successful test subjects,” Rishima said, quickly moving the conversation to what was really on her mind. It also proved she had been listening longer than either of them suspected. Hamas nodded, not certain why that mattered. It seemed like a rather insignificant detail as far as he was concerned. “What were their names? Did they even have names?”
“They did,” he shrugged. “But I don’t even know if they are still alive, mind you. And if they are, they would most likely be using aliases by now.”
“Their names,” Rishima repeated, the fingers on her left hand flexing. It was the only outward indication that her patience might be growing thin.
“The boy’s name was Jarlen, the girl was Viola,” he said.
He had barely finished his sentence before everyone seemed to be moving at once. “Bring her here,” Rishima ordered. But spiritists were already on the move before she spoke.
“Are you sure about this?” Liam asked, trying to plead his case. “Hasn’t Viola been through enough already?” Hamas turned his head sharply after hearing Liam repeat her name. “Perhaps this can wait until morning when everyone has had a good night’s—”
“No, it cannot wait until morning,” Rishima said. “You of all people are not suggesting that we wait another day, when the answers she has sought for so long may well be sitting right here in this room, are you?”
Liam looked away. Of course she was right. Try as he might, he couldn’t protect her from the entire world. Some things she needed to face for herself. He didn’t have to like it, but he did have to accept it. For better or worse, she needed to hear the truth.
Hardly a minute had passed before two spiritists entered the room, bowing briefly before stepping aside. There stood Viola, brow crinkled with obvious confusion. They had told her nothing other than to come immediately. It was unclear if Hamas had seen any of his creations since their release on the world, but upon seeing her, his eyes instantly lit up. “Viola?” he said, rising from his seat. He moved towards her cautiously, hands extended as he went to touch her face. Viola leaned away and he pulled up short, fingers curling back. “It’s really you,” he said, his voice sputtering.
“Who is this?” Viola asked, looking right at the old man but waiting for someone else to answer. Hamas inched closer, this time his fingertips brushing her face. Viola tensed, but didn’t pull away this time. If this strange man were actually dangerous in any way, surely her friends wouldn’t have let him get this close.
“I can hardly believe it. It really is you,” Hamas said. “Who am I, you ask?” There was an adoring admiration in his eyes, a father’s love that Liam recognized right away. Perhaps he made these beings for a purpose, but there was no denying his attachment to them. At least, the obvious attachment he had to his first. “This may sound hard to believe.” Again he swallowed, already anticipating how hard this was going to be for her. “I am the one who brought the lerwicks back from oblivion. I am the one who unearthed the secret to their existence. And yes, Viola, I am also the one who brought you to life.”
Viola felt the room spin as a pair of strong hands steadied her from behind. She would have surely ended up on the floor had Liam not moved so quickly. You must sit down, my dear, came a voice from miles away. Bring her some water. Hurry! The voice was so distant, yet she knew it was Liam. Everything seemed to be moving so fast. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her panting breaths coming in rapid bursts. I told you this was a bad idea. We should have waited. You should have let me talk to her first!
Viola reached up and grabbed Liam by the shoulder. She realized she was sitting on a chair, but had no idea how she got there. After a few deep breaths, everything seemed to slow down again. Just holding on to Liam seemed to help keep her grounded. His touch was real, familiar; it helped her to stay in the moment. “Is this true?” she asked. Even though Hamas was right in front of her, she was looking at Liam. She needed a familiar face right now, a person she trusted to tell her what was real and what was not.
“It is true,” Liam said, stroking her hand with his own. “I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re feeling right now, but you must accept that this man is telling the truth.”
Thinking? What was she thinking? Viola searched through the haze of her mind, cutting through all the disbelief and shock. What am I thinking? I feel...relieved. “I am fine,” she said, sitting up in her chair. And she was fine, now that the initial shock had run its course. All her life she had dreamed of this moment, and now it was here. The time had come to finally get some answers, and she was not going to let it slip through her fingers. She looked directly at Hamas, holding his gaze for an uncomfortably long while. No longer was she that scared little girl, and she would prove it from this day forward, through both her words as well as her actions.
“It is good to finally meet you,” she said, her voice steady. “And now that I have been given this opportunity, I would like to ask you some questions.”
* * *
After having the dining hall cleared, they all switched rooms in order to be more comfortable. Owen was present, but decided to stay at the far end of the table, stuffing his face. Any time was a good time for eating, and this was no exception. Liam and Hamas sat across from Viola, while Rishima and Bella stayed seated at a nearby table. All they planned to do was to listen in, but not interfere. This was Viola’s moment. She finally had the chance to get some answers. Liam had brought her up to speed on what had already been discussed. Now it was her turn to ask some questions.
“You were my first,” Hamas began, proud like a father. “After so many failures, I was finally able to make the process work.” He sat forward in his seat, pointing a finger at her with one eye half-closed. “You know, the odds of you being here right now are nearly ten thousand to one. That I am speaking with you at all is a miracle in itself.”
“And what is the significance of Viola being your first?” Liam asked, unable to resist. He too had questions of his own. “I mean, besides the obvious. Does that make her any different than the others?”
“Indeed it does,” Hamas said. “She is the original. Which makes the others mere copies of the original, therefore diluted in some ways. It is quite possible that she has abilities the others do not. Yes, the sex plays a role as well. The males are significantly stronger, but none would be as strong as Jarlen. And although the females can
move faster than humans, none will be as fast as Viola. Again, they are diluted copies. And close as they may be, they are still inferior to Viola and her brother. Physically, anyway.” Hands dropping to his sides, he suddenly started looking around as if something had startled him. “And where is your brother? I should like to see—”
“A story for another time,” Liam cut him off with a raised hand. This was not the time or place for talk of that lost soul.
“Why did you bring us back?” Viola asked. “Please, don’t misunderstand me. I am grateful to be here. I have made some wonderful friends,” she glanced at Liam, “and I don’t plan on ever being separated from them again. But I just don’t understand my purpose. Why am I here?”
“You are a soldier,” Hamas said. That father’s admiration seemed to have suddenly fled from his eyes. Now those eyes were deadly serious. “You are all soldiers, born and bred for a single purpose: to fight the ghatins and defend our realm, just as the first generation of your kind did.” His expression softened. “I am sorry if that sounds cold or callous. The truth often is, and I promised you the truth. It is no different than when the lerwicks were first designed all those centuries ago. Your purpose is just as clear now as it was back then.
“Of course, those were different times, to be sure. The world was in chaos, as the war between the humans and the ghatins raged on for many years. Back then, the creation of the lerwicks only had to be kept secret from the ghatins. But now we live in a world of complete ignorance to a danger that once almost brought the humans to extinction. Ironically, the humans fear your kind just as much as they fear the ghatins. Knowing this would be the case, I was forced to devise a plan. And a desperate one at that, if I do say so myself.
“It was imperative that your kind remain hidden until the world was ready to know of your existence. As we all know, coin is the universal language spoken around the world. It shows no prejudice, and can unite an army even when there is no shared purpose or goal. I hired as many men as I could. Not good men, not moral men, but loyal to a fault once their price had been met. Each took at least one of the young lerwicks, depending on how much I paid them, and was instructed to hide them from the world. Furthermore, they had to be spread out in case some were discovered. One found is a mutant, a natural mistake of nature. Several in one place? Well, that could not be so easily explained.
“It cost myself and my colleagues our entire life savings, but there was no other choice. It had to be done. They were to hide you, educate you as best as they could, and then one day their task would be complete. They would know when that day came, just the same as I did. Word of the rise of the lerwicks has spread across the realm. The time has come, and that is why I, too, have come out of hiding. You have a destiny, Viola, and I am here to help ensure that you fulfill that destiny.”
Viola sat still in her chair with a blank expression. It was all so much to take in. Had everything in her life been leading up to this moment? Was this really her destiny? That kind of importance was a hard thing for her to imagine given her lifetime of secretive solitude.
“My name,” she said. Both Hamas and Liam were a bit taken aback by what seemed to be a strange change of subject. “By your own admission, I am little more than a creation. Why even bother giving me a name?” She glanced around the room. “That table is no different than the other table over there. That picture on the wall. That lantern. They are all just things, just like myself. They don’t have names, so why do I?”
“I promised you the truth,” Hamas said after a thoughtful pause. “Yes, Viola, you were created. That much is true. But there is something else you should know. The mercenaries, keepers, whatever you want to call them, they all gave names to the lerwicks they were to watch over. I can’t say for certain if that was just a way to keep them organized. Or if it was an act of love, no matter how strange that might sound. Only they could answer that. I told you that you were my first, but what I didn’t tell you was that I did not give you your name.
“Your mother did.”
“M-My mother?”
“Yes, Viola. I will never forget that young woman, crying in front of me, clutching her babes one in each arm. All three of you were diseased. In the most selfless act I’ve ever seen, she begged me to save her children with no regard for her own well-being. ‘This is Jarlen and this is Viola,’ she said, handing you both to me before collapsing on the floor.
“She had already known that she wasn’t long for this world, but that was of no concern to her. A mother’s will alone gave her enough strength to carry on, days longer than she should have had. In her last moments, all she wanted was to see that her children had a chance, if only a small one. So you see, Viola, I didn’t give you your name. I simply honored the one you already had. That brave woman did not see you as a creation. You were her daughter, and Jarlen was her son.”
Eyes glistening with tears, a lump growing in her throat, Viola sat in silence for a long time. Of all the information she was forced to take in this day, this news might have been the hardest to absorb. It was both beautiful and painful all at the same time. After all these accusations of her being little more than a monster, a twisted mutation with no soul, it hadn’t even occurred to her that she might have had a real mother once. And not just any mother, but a woman who loved her with all her heart. And yet she would never meet this woman who died before her time, who gave up everything so that she and her brother could have a chance at life. It almost made her feel...human.
“Somebody once said something to me,” Viola said, wiping the tears from her eyes. “He said that I wasn’t real. He said that I shouldn’t even exist.” Liam moved to her back and placed his hand on her shoulder. “For so long I believed that was true,” Viola sniffed.
Hamas smiled at her as he reached inside his coat pocket, carefully retrieving a small red flower. It was pretty beat up with several petals missing, but still held a unique beauty all its own. After giving it a healthy sniff, he rose from his seat and walked around the table. “When I know I’ll be traveling a long distance, I always make sure to take a bit of home with me,” he said, sniffing the flower again. “We call this flower a ‘herbon.’ I guess you might say that my strange practice helps keep me grounded. But the way I see it, it’s a constant reminder that home is not as far away as it may feel sometimes.”
Gently, he placed the blossom in Viola’s hair, then kissed her on the forehead. “Again, I only wish to tell you the truth. You are just as real and beautiful as this blossom, Viola. And anyone who can’t see that is nothing but a blind fool. Don’t you ever forget that.”
* * *
Townfolk gathered, pushing and shoving to try and get a better view. A line of soldiers led the way down the street, the king himself marching in step just behind them. There had been no formal announcement, no warning of an upcoming execution. Yet a few leaked whispers from the keep soon became a flood of wild rumors. Mere hours after the buzz hit the streets, the people of Shadowfen were now seeing it unfold before their eyes. Something really was going on today.
The king’s scowl spoke volumes. Had they caught a traitor, a spy perhaps? Normally, he would have been much more vocal in declaring a public victory for the capture. Milo had never been one to pass on an opportunity to take credit, no matter who actually deserved it. But aside from a few street whispers, today’s event had largely been kept a secret.
Behind the king marched a number of red-robed clerics, their hoods pulled down over their faces. Even with their expressions concealed in shadow, a grave sadness could be felt radiating off them. Three near the back appeared to be carrying something, a wooden post it looked like. At the center of it all, a shirtless, shoeless man was being dragged. His pants were little more than a pair of tattered ribbons. His body was bruised and beaten. Hands shackled at his front, he wept with his head hung as the last line of soldiers prodded him along, making their displeasure known with the occasional kick or slap.
A spy? A thief, perhaps? But why h
ad there been no announcement, or even a trial for that matter? The only way a sentencing could have moved this swiftly was by the king’s order.
With the growing crowd looking on, the front line of soldiers stopped near the front gate and stood in formation. The second line of clerics laid down what now appeared to be a wooden cross, then promptly stepped away from it. Still nothing was said, no word from the royal speaker, or even the king who was just standing in silence.
“Guards,” the king finally said, motioning to the cross laying on the sand. Two soldiers stepped forward, each snatching one arm of the prisoner. Crying, thrashing, he kicked futilely as they led him over to it, then threw him down. “I warned you, did I not?” Milo said, facing the watching clerics who refused to look up at their king. “Now witness the price of failure!” Not once did he acknowledge the stunned crowd looking on. This angry display was not for them; it was far more personal than that. As promised, one of the clerics would die this day, and all his brothers would be forced to watch.
The downed cleric’s cries were cut short when one of the soldiers smacked the side of his head with the broad side of his sword. Head jerking to the side, blood ran down from his temple as he began to mumble incoherently. After tying his hands and feet to the cross, another man in plain uniform stepped forward with a hammer in one hand, metal spikes in the other. Planting one knee in the sand, he lined up the first spike, pressing its point against one wrist.
“Stop,” Milo commanded with a wave. His eyes scanned across the line of frightened clerics, all the while taking the time to drink in their fear. A few brave souls looked up, a flash of hope in their eyes. Perhaps he wasn’t going to go through with it after all. Maybe it was all just a test to frighten them, to teach them a lesson. “You,” the king said, pointing to one of the clerics in the middle. “Step forward.” Clenching his hands to keep them from trembling, he did as instructed. “Closer,” Milo said, even managing a tight grin as he summoned him with a curled finger.