Amorlia

by Chris Wichtendahl

  The T’Ken Farm

  Artemis felt the motion of the cart as sleep left her and was momentarily unable to place herself. Then the cart hit a stone in the road and she came fully awake with a jolt. She rubbed at her head and the small of her back. What she wouldn’t give for one night on a proper bed. “Ooooh,” she moaned, “where...” “Ah now,” a familiar voice spoke from the front of the cart, “look who’s finally decided to join us.” She made her way slowly to the front of the cart, and the two men sitting there. Pym was to her right, and on the left, driving the cart... “Mikaal?” Artemis was shocked to see him, “Mikaal T’Ken?” “How’re yeh?” the old farmer asked with a smile, “I have to say, the last thing I expected to come across on my way home from town was you sprawled out in a ditch on the side o’ the tracks,” a mischievous gleam shone in his eyes, “O’ course, I shoulda known that’s where ye’d wind up.” His eyes lost their gleam and the smile slipped from his face, “Seriously now, I am awful glad to see you, darlin’. All manner o’ dire tidings been coming to us these past weeks,” he reached back to pat her knee, “Good to see they aren’t all true,” he noticed the smeared facepaint that no longer completely covered her mark, “though I gather enough of them are.” Artemis nodded, “While tales of my death are not entirely accurate, Vega is in grave danger. The city has fallen to the Nazeans and my father-” her voice broke, “my... my father...” tears welled at the corners of her eyes. “Aw lass,” Mikaal said, his own eyes moist, “I’m more sorry than I can say. Yer da was a good man, one of the best. This world is poorer without him.” “Thank you,” Artemis whispered. “Though,” Mikaal cleared his throat, “while we’re on the subject of our loved ones, have yeh word of my boy? Much of the news pertained to him, and none of it is anything I’d want to put much stock in.” “Your son lives,” Artemis said, “though he is not well. He is at the Solarian monastery, from what I’ve been told, and he appears to be... well...” ****** “Sleeping?” Maeri T’Ken repeated. She sat at the kitchen table with her husband, Pym Kenar and Artemis, who had just related the news as she knew it for the second time that day. “What do you mean, he’s sleeping?” Mikaal stood behind his wife and lay his hands on her shoulders. “He sleeps without waking,” Artemis said, “and no one can determine what is wrong. Pym and I,” she indicated the young speedster, who was currently on his third helping of breakfast, “travel to the Great Wood, where I have been told the Sisters of Luna will offer their aid in saving Kael from whatever has befallen him.” She gripped Maeri’s hand, looking into the older woman’s eyes, “I promise you, I will do whatever it takes to wake him from this slumber.” “I know you will, sweetheart,” Maeri T’Ken smiled at the exiled princess, “I know you will. Now,” she said briskly, rising from the table and dabbing her eyes with the hem of her apron, “if everyone has had their fill, I’m sure you’d both like to clean yourselves up a bit.” Pym looked up from his eggs and bacon, hovering protectively over his plate, “Does that mean I have to stop eating?” Later, after a long bath, Artemis stood in one of the guest rooms, looking out of the window over the sunlit fields of the T’Ken farm. Maeri was outside, hanging Artemis and Pym’s clothing on a line to dry. Artemis ran her hands over the simple gown she’d been given to wear. “Kael must have been a big kid,” Pym said from the doorway, “I could fit two of me in these pants. Though the holes in the shirt make for a nice breeze on my back.” He grinned when Artemis turned around. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to look any younger,” Artemis laughed. They stood and looked at one another a while, and Pym entered the room. “That guard knew me,” Pym said, “on the train.” Artemis nodded. “And you saw something in my mind that shocked you.” “Yes.” “Artemis,” Pym asked softly, “who am I?” Artemis sat down on the bed, patting a spot next to her. Pym came and sat. Artemis closed her eyes, took a deep breath and looked over at her friend. “Some of this will not be pleasant,” she warned. “I understand,” Pym said, “but I need to know.” “Okay.” Artemis sat quietly a few moments. “First,” she said at last, “you aren’t from Drego.” “Then where-” “You were born and raised in a small village in the Nazean Land,” she told him, “Your parents were members of a secret underground resistance. When your powers manifested, they encouraged you to use them to help people and for years you did just that, fighting the occupation and protecting your people from their conquerors. You came to be known as the ‘Ghost Wind’ in your village and those nearby. No one ever saw you, but they always knew you were there. Eventually, however, the Nazeans sent someone to catch you,” Artemis swallowed and looked away. When she looked back, she took his hand between her own, “They did. You returned from your patrol of the local villages to find your house ransacked and your parents bound. Nazean soldiers and a Brain Master were there. The Brain Master forced his way into your mind and...” Pym sighed, looking down, “He discovered that I prefer boys to girls. And we know how the Nazeans feel about that.” Artemis nodded, “They’d come to take you in, likely with the intention of turning you to serve them. When they found out,” her voice dropped to a whisper, “they... they needed to ‘re-educate’ you. They...” She shook her head, “I can’t. Pym, you don’t want to-” “Yes I do,” he said, “whatever it is.” Artemis drew a deep shuddering breath, “Okay,” she said softly, “okay. The Brain Master turned off your speed, they tied you to a chair and slit your mother’s throat. They made you watch her suffer,” The words were coming quickly, as though a pause would cause them to cease, “and when she was finally dead, they took your father and they... they,” she closed her eyes, “after breaking his arms and legs, stripping him naked and shoving broken glass under his skin, they took turns brutally raping your father while you watched, hoping the memory would prevent you from enjoying sexual pleasure with men.” She stopped talking and looked at him. He stared straight ahead, tears streaming down his face. She reached out and gripped his shoulder. He shook his head. “I’m okay,” he whispered, “I’m okay.” She forced him to look at her, her own eyes wet, “No you’re not,” she told him, pulling him to her, “No you’re not.” She held him for a while, and he wept into her shoulder. Then, “I want the memory back,” he said, his voice ragged. She shook her head, “No,” she said, “no, I’m not letting you see that.” “It’s my memory, Artemis,” he said, sitting up. “And your own mind has hidden it from you,” she told him, “That, and worse than that.” “Worse than that?” “Aren’t you curious as to how you escaped?” “I just thought-” “When they were done with your father,” she told him, “they just dropped him on the floor. He was... begging to be killed, but they didn’t care. They were going to burn the house down with him in it and take you back to the Nazean Land for...” “Further ‘re-education’,” he spat. “Yes. But they never got the chance. Something happened that they didn’t expect.” She stood and crossed to the window, “Stress makes you speedy, right?” “Aye,” he said, not quite understanding. “Well, you were clearly under a great deal of stress that day. Despite the Brain Master’s efforts, your speed kicked in. You... went crazy. You killed the Brain Master first, then the rest of the soldiers. You...” she rushed back to him, taking his hands in hers, looking deep into his eyes, almost pleading with him, “Pym, you have to understand, he was suffering. He’d been savaged by three professional soldiers, his injuries were already killing him, he... he begged you, Pym.” “NO!” Pym shouted, pushing her away, “No! I wouldn’t do that! I couldn’t do that!” She grabbed hold of him, pulling him into her arms and not letting go, “But you did, Pym,” she sobbed, holding him tight as his weeping became a long keening wail. “You killed your father.”

  The Great Wood

  It was early in the morning when Artemis woke in an empty bed. She had passed most of the previous day with Pym in her arms, drying his tears and soothing his mind. When evening came, she held him gently until he fell asleep. She kept her connection to his mind open as she slept, and the two shared each other’s dreams. At some point prior to
dawn, Pym must have woken and left the house. Their connection remained, and she could sense him outside. She rose, splashed some water on her face and dressed in her old clothes. The hems of the wide pant legs had frayed terribly, but the gown was clean and Maeri had even sewn the holes in the sleeves. She strapped on the leather bracers as she walked to the kitchen. Maeri was busy at the stove. “Is that joltbean tea I smell?” Artemis asked, adjusting her leather vest. It, like her gown, had been a gift from her father on her last birthday. He’d wanted her to have something pretty to wear, but knew she’d want something fit for battle. Maeri turned to her and smiled, “Made a fresh pot this morning,” she said, “I know you can’t start the day properly without it.” Artemis got a mug down from the cabinet, spooning in sugar and a dollop of cream before filling it with the steaming black liquid. She stirred her tea idly while looking out the window toward the barn. “Your friend is outside with Mikaal,” Maeri said, “He was up with the sun this morning and determined to be of help around the farm.” She laughed and shook her head, “With that speed of his, he gets more chores done than any five hands, and in half the time! I don’t think even Kael moves that fast.” Her eyes darkened at the mention of her son, and she busied herself with breakfast. “Can I help with anything?” Artemis asked, breaking the mood that had settled over the kitchen. Maeri indicated a bowl on the counter with a nod of her head, “You can stir that batter for me if you like.” Artemis set to the task, and for a while, neither woman said anything. Then Artemis spoke, “Thank you,” she said, “for putting us up last night. I apologize for not-” Maeri shushed the younger woman, “Nonsense. You are welcome here any time, Artemis, you know that. You’re almost family, and Pym seems like a nice young man,” she looked out the window as well, “I hope you were able to help with whatever was bothering him.” “So do I,” Artemis whispered. “Don’t fret,” Maeri said, smiling, “Mikaal is out talking to him now, and I’m sure he’ll soon put the boy to rights.” Outside, near the barn, Mikaal and Pym rested against the fence of the corral, watching a mother and her foal. Pym had just finished telling Mikaal all he’d learned from Artemis the night before. Mikaal nodded and thought a while. “Well now,” he said finally, “that’s an awful thing to happen to a lad, no matter his age. You and yer folks were close, I take it?” Pym nodded, “I’ve started to remember,” he said, “and the memories are good ones.” “Aye,” Mikaal said, “Well, at least you have that.” “But what I did,” Pym said, “I just sat there, helpless, while they murdered my mother, and then, what I did to my father...” “Now son,” Mikaal said gently, putting his arm about the boy’s shoulders, “what you did for your da was a mercy, and he knew it too. Oh, I’m sure he’d have given anything not to have to ask you for it, but he knew you’d do right by him, and you did.” He tipped Pym’s chin up so they looked eye-to-eye, “And from all I can see, you still are.” Pym nodded, “Aye,” he said softly, “I guess.” Both men were quiet, each lost in their own thoughts. “Hard as it may be to believe, I know how you feel,” Mikaal said, breaking the silence, “I had to kill my own da, years ago.” Pym’s eyes widened, “You did? Why?” Mikaal sniffed, looked up and then sighed, “Well now, are you familiar with Alzem’s Malady?” Pym shook his head. “Nasty bit of business, that,” Mikaal explained, “takes hold of some folks as they get old, stealing bits of their mind, until one day there ain’t nothing there.” He cleared his throat and scuffed the ground with his boot, “It came on my da real sudden, some few years after Kael came to us. At first it was just little things: couldn’t keep his thoughts straight, would forget words, had trouble remembering new faces. But, as time wore on, he started forgetting more and more. Got to where he didn’t even recognize me, kept calling me Dolaan, after his brother.” Mikaal was silent a few minutes, and there was a slight catch in his voice when he resumed speaking, “Sometimes, though,” he said, “sometimes he’d be his old self, you know? Sharp as a nail, and fully alert. Those times got fewer and farther between as the Malady wore on, but it was during one of those times he made me promise him something,” Mikaal looked over at Pym, his eyes wet, “Made me promise I’d do him in, it ever got so bad he needed tending like a baby. I promised him, more time passed and... well,” his voice broke, “it got that bad. So, I led him out into the woods yonder,” he pointed to a copse of trees at the edge of the property, “I had my gun with me, and once I’d led him far enough away from the house, I raised up my gun and I...” he cleared his throat again, “I...” then again, “Well, you can guess what came next, don’t need me to say it.” He passed an arm across his eyes, regaining his composure, “Point is boy, I know what yer feeling, and I’ll tell you now that for all that it was the right thing to do, that guilt you got squatting in yer gut ain’t never going away. It’s been over 20 years now for me, and I still feel it.” He looked out over his land, “Always will, I figure,” he said. Pym lay a hand on the older man’s arm, and the two stood together in silence, watching the mare chase after her foal. It was many hours and two whole meals before Artemis and Pym were ready to resume their journey. Mikaal had offered to guide them to a place where the Great Wood bordered his land rather than get them back on the train to Terminus. “It’s good fortune you two never made it to the end of the line,” he told them as they rode his cart away from the farm, “Lots of Nazeans over by the Terminus station. Soldiers mostly,” he said, “though some strange-looking folk with even stranger machines too, by all accounts I’ve heard. Near as I can tell, they have orders to destroy the Wood itself.” “Can they do that?” Pym asked, wide-eyed. Mikaal laughed, “Son, there ain’t a man born nor machine made can do one lick of damage to a single tree of the Great Wood.” He shook his head, “No, they’ll chop and they’ll saw and hammer and burn, but it won’t do a thing. The Wood can take care of itself, have no worries on that score. And, should they be so foolish as to actually enter the Wood, well...” he chuckled, “that’s the last any will see of those folks, and good riddance to them, too. But,” he went on, “it’s still best you two keep well away from that group.” “Mikaal,” Artemis asked, her voice full of concern, “you and Maeri will be okay, right? I mean, if there are so many Nazeans at Terminus...” “Ah,” Mikaal waved her concern away, “don’t waste any worry for us, Artemis. A few bully boys come ‘round the farm to collect our ‘taxes’. We pay what we owe, and they leave us be.” He grinned, “And by the time they got around to really bothering us, you’ll have sorted them out.” “You can be sure of that,” Artemis promised. Mikaal pulled back on the reins, bringing the cart to a stop. “Okay,” he said, “this is as far as I can take you. Just follow this path here into the forest. You’ll come to the Wood soon enough.” “How will we know when we’re there?” Pym asked, hopping down from the cart. “Oh,” Mikaal chuckled, “you’ll know. Trust me, you’ll know.” Artemis reached over and hugged her future father-in-law, “Thank you again for everything, Mikaal. You and Maeri stay safe until we get back, okay?” “No worries there, lass,” he said, “I wouldn’t want to miss the sight of you and Kael kicking the Nazeans from one end of Amorlia to another, now would I?” He hugged her tight before letting go. “You tell that boy of mine I want to see him when he gets back, soon as he’s able,” he said. “I will,” Artemis assured him before she jumped down off the cart. Mikaal looked down at Pym, “You remember what we talked about, boy,” he said, “and be sure and mind what Artemis here tells yeh, understand?” “I will, sir,” Pym nodded, “and thank you.” “Any time, lad,” Mikaal smiled, “And we’ll expect to see you back at the farm before too long as well, y’hear?” “I’m looking forward to it.” They all said their final goodbyes, then Mikaal turned the cart around and headed back toward his farm as Artemis and Pym walked along the trail into the forest. The forest was young for the first few miles, which made sense, coming as it did on the edge of cleared farmland. But, as they walked further in, the trees grew taller and bigger around. Their branches twined together to form a canopy of green that nearly plunge
d the forest into night and thick lush foliage covered the ground beneath them. Massive roots grew out of the ground and arched over the trail, sometimes forcing the travelers to climb over, other times tall enough for them to pass under. They came upon one such arched root after walking for some time. Standing beneath it was a man clad in the colors of the forest, a bow and quiver of arrows slung across his back. He hailed them as they approached. “Artemis Vega and Pym Kenar,” he called out, “I am Ajax the Huntsman, and I am charged by the Sisters to guide you to the Sacred Grove. Enter freely, and be at peace.” He offered his hand when the two were close enough, and Artemis took it, grasping the Huntsman by the forearm. He repeated the greeting with Pym before turning and beckoning for them to follow. “Then, we’re really here?” Pym asked, gazing about in wonder. Birds and animals called to one another from the branches and brush, and the wind rustled its own greeting through the leaves. “Indeed you are, young Master Kenar,” Ajax answered. “When you passed under that arch, you entered a land beyond the reach of those who would harm you, a land that was old when men were little more than beasts. I bid you both welcome,” he said, raising his arms to encompass the magnificent ancient wilderness around them. “Welcome to the Great Wood.”

  The Sisters of Luna