by CJ East
Amica met his eyes and smiled. “It is a determination based on observation, nothing more intended.”
He turned back to the Reckoning Posts disturbed. “Huh, I needed to die to learn a lesson. Well, it failed. I didn’t learn anything except that falling on your sword is a metaphor best not taken literally.”
Amica jumped in. “You did not learn because you do not understand how you allowed Lamia to have power over you.”
“No I didn’t, I fought her. She was too powerful.”
“There is a balance in all our souls. You tipped your balance by embracing the worst you harbor inside. Do you remember this moment?”
Kinch new the exact moment. Menis, the flip of a switch.
“You surrendered to your rage, your cruelty and hatred. These were new weapons for you. They are the long practiced skills for Lamia.”
“She beat me when I played her game by her rules.”
“Yes. Cruelty does not come natural to you, Kinch. It has been part of your warrior training as a necessity. Warriors must kill. They do not murder. You understand?”
The Reckoning Posts loomed a few dozen yards ahead when Kinch saw the first skull. White bone fragments dotted the barren red soil around the posts.
“So that was my lesson?”
“Well, yes. Do you not remember goodness, temperance, peace and love.”
Kinch kicked a cracked femur with his bare foot. He raised his inner voice. “Yes, I do. Sorry, I don’t buy it.”
“Buy it?”
“Yeah, you can’t kill an opponent with peace. Goodness doesn’t deter aggression. Love doesn’t bring your enemy to his knees.”
“But these are Truths. They are the teachings you believe.” Amica looked at him in confusion. “You hold these close to your heart - I saw your memories. Your God on Terra. Our God here. They are one in the same.”
“Amica, that is impossible. I’m not who you think I am. I’m a kid. Nothing more. I’m not some prophet who knows the secret ways of God. I don’t even know if He exists.” Something struck him deep with fear and conviction of his Catholic blasphemy. “… On this God forsaken planet, I mean. My God never fought dragons.”
Amica watched his profile with the expression of a patient instructor. There wasn’t much time left. The escort stopped. Taurean strode up to Amica and spoke aloud unafraid before his men. “You are sure the Badger Cub is the One? For now your life is in danger instead of mine.” He turned a skeptical eye on the boy.
Amica surveyed Kinch with an expression of approval. “I have never been more sure of anything. Chain us then leave us.” She softened her tone. “…And thank you, Taurean.”
Taurean’s large black eyes searched Amica’s gentle scarlet face. It glowed with a new strength of passion. Her crystal blue eyes shouted confidence in her purpose. Taurean wrapped her soft hand in his large sword hand and raised it with gentleness. He stared deep into the Coccino woman’s eyes, searching as if to see her soul.
“I know better than to stand in your way. I will call on you.” The metallic click of a wrist restraint punctuated his words. Amica nodded a gentle smile. She turned her back and Taurean snapped the other shackle in place.
He grabbed Kinch by the arm and spoke in chopped sentences. “Walk with me. I know you are partial to talking. This is a time for listening.” He walked in slow deliberate steps without making eye contact.
Taurean articulated the clear, rapid instruction peculiar to professionals who send men to their deaths. “Dragon scale is almost impenetrable. Aim for the eyes, mouth, and the neck. Never the sides.”
Kinch stole a glance to the Auri guard following them. This information had to be sedition.
The warrior continued. “He is a Rage Dragon. One of the largest. Breathes fire. Watch the tail, it is an effective weapon and defense from flanking attacks. He is untrustworthy and merciless. Ask for no quarter, for none will be granted.”
They stopped, the guards encircling them. “Turn.” Kinch made a slow pivot and faced the blood smeared post.
“Your advantage is agility. Drakon cannot move laterally due to his size. He compensates this vulnerability with his tail. He has crushed armies with his tail.”
Both restraints snapped around the boy’s wrists. Kinch mumbled over his shoulder. “These shackles present an obstacle to your advice.”
Taurean jerked hard on the chain, displaying their strength to the crowds on the wall. He exhaled in frustration. “Boy, I was once like you. Listen to her. She understands the Way. You will need help to do this. No man, no army has ever defeated an adult Rage Dragon.”
He looked to the retreating light of the cavern ceiling. Kinch turned as he signaled to his men. The guards jogged toward the gate with Taurean striding after them.
Guilt pressed down upon Kinch with the weight of crushing boulders. “Will you not help her?”
Taurean jolted as if he had been pierced in the back with a lance. He did not turn. “I just did. Her life is now in your hands.”
Kinch turned to Amica. Her white toga was smeared with blood - his heart blood. She studied him with a calm peace. A loud roar echoed down the distant expanse of the high walls of Arx. Neither looked after the roar. They concentrated on the strength of the other. Strength and the hope surpassing the expectation of survival.
PART EIGHT
Drakon
Smoke billowed from the charred Wilds and the dying flames of war. The groaning of teetering trees broke the eerie quiet of the twilight. Soldiers lined the top wall of Arx. The Patrician, Lamia and the Coccino Council craned down the long wall. An anticipation hung over the crowd for the judgment and the judge.
Kinch strained against his thick chains. He dug his chin into his chest as he pulled his wrists from their bondage behind his back. There was no give. Metal was as unforgiving on Mars as it was on Earth.
The large red stain on his jumpsuit circled the four inch slice in the fabric. His chest was smooth without a hint of a scar. Just blood - and lots of it. He was a mess and had made a mess of everything. He tested the chains again in vain.
Kinch scanned the smoking forest. “The Duobus is dead then?”
Amica had been watching him. “Yes. It was Lucius who dispatched him. The Damned have begun their withdrawal from the Small Dome.”
“I’m glad it was him.” Kinch hung his head and released a long breath.
“He cares for you like a brother. You have love here Kinch. You have belonging.”
“I’m not your prophet, Amica. I’m sorry.”
“What is important is you understand the Lord has plans for all. There have been no accidents. I was led to you calling out from the surface. I was able to help you understand the gift you have used to save many lives. Lucius completed his vow in assistance to you and became a man. The Lord raised you from the dead for a reason. It was not to have you die a few moments later defeated by this demon.”
Kinch raised his eyebrows. “You brought me back. My blood is all over you.”
“Not true, I could not. It is impossible to resuscitate the dead and heal the wounds which cut them down.”
“Then how did it happen?”
A roar shook the Wilds like a close thunder clap. Something was on the other side of the charred line of trees. They both searched the smoke filled gap with anxious scans.
“Soon, Kinch there will be time to explain. I will confess all. Trust in my friendship as we face Drakon. For we do not battle against his flesh and blood, but against his spirit of evil in our present darkness.” Her crystal blue eyes glowed a warm confidence. “Understand he comes for our souls, not our mortal frames.”
She titled her head forward as an instructor with secret knowledge. “Two things are important for you to know. The first is the close physical presence of a rage dragon is terrifying. Concentrate not on his form, but his inner darkness. Fear not, you battle on the side of the Lord.”
Trees crashed to the forest floor. Movement. Something lurked behind the flames
and smoke of the clearing.
Amica continued with renewed urgency. “The second thing you must accept is you have an undeveloped skill to control matter. You must learn to use it against Drakon.”
“Control matter? With my mind?”
“Yes. You have grown so strong in one day. It takes decades of training to develop the talents you now own.” Another fierce roar erupted from the Wilds. A dark shadow paused in the midst of the smoldering waste and raised its long neck.
“Think on this. All matter has a natural state. It may be solid, liquid, resting, moving. There are many natural states. Concentrate now. Do not look to the dragon. Concentrate on the center ring which binds the chains of your arms to the pole chain. Do you see it in your mind?”
Kinch turned his face from the shadow stalking the burnt Wilds scavenging the dead. A large center ring appeared from memory to the forefront of his mind.
Amica sensed his concentration. “Good. The chain’s nature is cold, strong and immobile. Now see it differently. Foresee it as another nature. Make it pliable, flowing, and molten.”
A death scream pealed through the smoke and darkness. The body of a man flipped into the air like a coin. At the height of the arch something darted out and swallowed him. Kinch tightened his eyes and leaned forward on the restraints.
“Kinch, draw on my power as you did with Lucius. Visualize the ring and feel energy flowing around you. Channel it through.” She scanned the taut chains down to their binding ring. The thick center hoop glowed from orange to a hot white.
He snapped his wrists forward causing liquid sparks to flare from the shattered ring. Heavy chains jangled to a stop at his feet. He turned with a quick smile, then strode toward the looming shadow at the edge of the smoldering Wilds. He spun his arm and the chain wrapped tight around his forearm and wrist.
Amica created a mind link between them. “Focus on the strength of our bridge. Do not connect to Drakon, he will overcome you. Speak to him only with your body voice.”
He wrapped the other chain around his forearm. “I need weapons.”
“Indeed. You will need many. Make them obey your will. You have experienced the flow and rhythm of battle. Inanimate weapons can be pushed as an extension of this flow. They will respond to your will if you alter their nature.”
Kinch closed his eyes as he walked. The smell of burning forest filled the air. He felt the condensation of evening dew on his feet. A white current of mist circled around him, flowing from Amica.
He strode to the battlefield where he would find golden steel. He pictured the center binding ring joining Amica’s chains. The ring glowed white, melting into silvery splatters on the red clay. The chains sank below Amica’s wrist as a knowing smile crossed her face.
Kinch pulled an Auri spear from the back of a Damned corpse and plunged it into the ground. He went to work gathering golden short and long swords, battle axes and spears. He threw them toward the spear. The feeding shadow was near. He created another weapons cache, their handles thrust upright and ready for use.
He flung the Auri long shields into piles along the battleground. He leaped over the dead and dying with a singular desperation. Weapon tips were thrust into the soil.
Kinch heard a weak moan. “Help me Deliverer.” He jolted to an abrupt stop.
“Please, I am of the Way.” A golden hand rose from a pile of Damned. Two trembling fingers stretched up in some form of sign.
Kinch scanned his theater. He needed more time, it wasn’t complete. “You are mistaken. I’m not the one you seek.”
There is no time. Another cache must be set to the dragon’s flank.
“I am Auri, but we - my wife, my children are secretly of the Way.” A cough broke his words. “We have risked so much. Will you abandon them?”
Kinch turned his back to the man and picked up a lance. “I’m sorry.” Kinch felt his gut twist as he spoke. He walked slower, searching not the ground, but his heart.
“Please, Prophet. Mercy, for my family - show mercy.” His voice trailed.
The boy froze again. The plea was a dagger to his pitching stomach. He had lost his father. He looked to the scavenging darkness. The sound of feeding, seeking the living, filled his ears.
He sprinted toward the Wilds, his eyes flashing for gold. He plucked weapons in mid leap, circling the field and returning to the wounded Auri soldier. Blood flowed from his gold head and matted his short white hair. A deep gash sliced all the way to his shoulder.
“Deliverer.” The man moaned. “Light in the Darkness.” His eyes fluttered closed.
“Don’t speak, you are delusional. You must stay awake.” Kinch stacked the weapons in a tight pile under his arm. He lifted the man by his chest and slung him over his shoulder. He felt light even with full armor. Breaking into a run, Kinch struggled to balance the disparate weapons under his arm.
A loud cheer rang from the walls followed by the Auri warrior chant of “Honor, Honor, Honor!” Kinch cursed them under his breath and glanced back to the smoldering Wilds. The crashing of timber peeled through the forest with the force of a train.
Kinch dropped the weapons, locked his wrists around the man and sprinted to the gate. He pulled the man forward sliding to a stop and cradling his head. He propped the man against the gate and turned to the Wilds.
“Blessings upon you,” the man said as his head leaned against the wooden door.
He held something in his outstretched hand. Kinch turned to see the hilt of a small dagger pointing at him. The man’s arm wavered as he struggled to hold it steady.
“A gift for the Dark One from a child of the Way.”
Kinch slid the dagger into the cargo pocket of his jumpsuit and dashed to the pile of weapons. The sound of rolling thunder came from the shadows of the Wilds. He drove each edge into the ground and ran to the center of the glen.
He slowed to a trot catching his breath as the cavern ceiling faded to a gray twilight. He drove in the spear tip, knelt and crossed himself.
The clamor from the Wilds ceased. No sound but the crackling of fires. A pregnant stillness filled the smoldering strip. He was being watched.
Amica built a bridge as she hurried to the soldier limp against the gate. “Remember you do not fight with the strength of this world. His attack will be spiritual, personal, meant to break your will.”
Kinch stared at a creeping shadow much darker than the fading light of the dome would cause. It was a tangible darkness, alive with a dark, burning hatred for the light. The same darkness on the battlefield consuming the Duobus and Lamia. His vision again.
He glanced to Amica. An intense white inner glow trailed as she ran to a weak pulsing light limp against the gate. His gray arm wicked away pale color into a gray landscape.
He reached out to Amica. “What is happening to my vision? I can only see in shades of black and white.”
“It is the spiritual sight. A strong presence of the supernatural can clarify the discernment in vision in some of the elect.”
“You see it as well?” He asked, studying the stalking shadow.
“Yes, he has brought the sight to me as well. Kinch, he is preparing to attack.”
“Let him come.”
“You are not his prey. His anger is drawn to my light.” Her inner voice betrayed her concern.
Kinch jerked the spear out of the ground in mid-flight. The shadow broke from the edge of the Wilds toward the gate. It was the size of a two story house, big and round with a long tail and neck.
He had to turn the monster. He aimed his spear leading the shadowy head and let it fly with all his might. Accuracy wouldn’t matter, it was a message of strength.
The spear shot across the dragon’s eyesight. His massive serpentine head recoiled on its neck as he skidded to a stop. Drakon turned his gaze upon the boy.
“The boy!” A thunderous voice boomed from the dragon in High Latin. He changed his course and strode with malicious intent toward Kinch.
Kinch called out in a lo
ud, clear voice. “I assume you have received my message from Pythia.”
“Yes, child. A message filled with angry words. Threats, provocations and insults.” The dragon spoke with an affected air of superiority. He pulsed a psychic wave at the boy as he advanced.
Kinch stopped, deflecting the attack like a sea wall turning back a breaker. He tossed the sword to his spear hand and sized up the enemy. Drakon was not long and slender like Pythia. He was large, with a thick chest and powerful forearms.
“You have grown stronger, Outlander. Lamia says there are reports you are a god.” He tilted his horned head in a mocking fashion, evaluating Kinch.
“I do not give much weight to her words. She appears to ordain the title of god to even old, fat lizards.”
Drakon stepped forward to within fifty feet. The features of his alert eyes and cruel, reptilian mouth were jagged in his glowing black form. “You have a sharp tongue, boy. I have sharp teeth.” The dragon drew back his head as his forelegs dipped. Kinch flexed to the balls of his bare feet in anticipation.
Drakon’s head shot out with blazing speed. Kinch jumped to the right, evading the creature’s lunge. He pulled his blade down on the crest of the creature’s neck causing an explosion of shattered golden steel.
Kinch sprinted a retreat of fifty yards away from Amica and turned. Drakon followed his prey in a slow, calculating walk. “Why do you run child, from an old, fat lizard?”
“To reload.” He tugged a sword in one hand and a spear to the other.
The dragon stalked toward him with a steady, unblinking gaze. “You have the Spirit Sight by now, I trust? You see my power, do you not?”
Kinch studied the purposeful, strong movements of the creature. A black blazing energy glowing from within it.
Drakon turned his gaze to the two forms huddling before the gate of Arx. “Your answer is not necessary if you can see your own spirit as I do. You understand your color is closer in nature and composition to mine than the hideous glow of Amica. Even the fading light of the dying man at her side renders your light dingy.” The corner of his great mouth curled into a satisfying grin.