The Spark

by Taylor Gibson

  I dozed off soon after the first two hours of being carried, and woke up after George set us down to stop for breath. I don’t know if it was the birds chirping as loud as the fire roaring in my blood earlier, or if it was just the shift in position after being held for so long, but something inside me was definitely different. Better. I felt as though the world owed me more than life as a whole; as though I had done something incredibly munificent and revolutionary.

  “George,” I whispered, still weak from the fight, “are you alright?”

  With a smile of compassion on his face, he arrived at my side, on one knee. He placed a hand on my good shoulder; and with the other, he wiped the dried blood off of my cheeks that blended with the colors of my hair.

  “I am. Do you feel alright?”

  “Yes, I feel better than ever. I think killing those vile creatures set off a reaction in my body as a drug does to an addict. I want to kill more of those beasts, George; I want their blood to be spread across my body like a bath of death. I cannot understand why I feel so exhilarated, but there is nothing I would care to do more than steal another life from those evil sons and daughters of Jobik.”

  George’s expression dramatically sank into an almost disgusted look. As he stared at me, speechless, I tilted my head and asked him if he was alright once more. Not expecting a response to a repeated question, I knew that I had said something off-putting. Not only did I say it, but I could feel that there was a poison injected inside me through the wound in my upper arm. But George had no such dark desires. He was the one looking at me like I was a maniac. I turned my gaze away from him and cuffed my mouth. Feeling nauseous from the blood loss, I gave out a bit of my breakfast in the dirt, next to the tree I was leaning against. This caused him to back away from me, revolted by the sight. I knew for a fact that upchucking in front of him didn’t help him to understand the way I was feeling. He turned to the gnome who was standing there behind him, holding a piece of cloth that was fashioned of pure Shugato cotton, only found in the west lands of D’Guños. He approached me with the material, folded it and laid it on my wound with care. Within a matter of seconds, I could see that the wound was fully healed. A small light shone through the cloth and then it faded away into white specks of powder that ran down my arm.

  As much as I wanted to ask how he enchanted the featureless cloth, I could not speak a word after it faded to fine particles. Not by the fault of the cloth, something absolutely horrifying covered my upper arm where the wound used to be. It was a mysterious mark left by the demon that had cut me. The figure was about three inches in length and had a peculiar shape. I could not make out what the illustration could have been representing. Through general perspective it could have symbolized almost anything.

  The gnome’s reaction to this sudden mark was not assuring. His old, silver eyes gaped wide open and his jaw dropped low like a ship’s anchor. George didn’t know what it was either. Simultaneously, we asked in an eager tone, “What?” the gnome was silent for a bit, and after a few stutters and gasps for air, he began to tell us what he knew about the symbol tattooed on my arm.

  “That is a jauish brand you have there. This is not good, not good at all! You will start having meltdowns, uncontrollable outbursts of rage— and worst of all— a demonic voice shall chant endlessly in your head for the rest of your days.”

  Initially, I didn’t think I heard him correctly. After remaining silent for a while longer, I gathered his words in my head and asked him to repeat himself.

  “You’re under a curse, chosen one. He is too, I’m afraid,” he said sympathetically, pointing at us both.

  This was far too much to take in! The little man was standing over me, informing me about all of these horrific things similar to what George had experienced before we met. I looked over at him to see how he was reacting, and all of a sudden, before Bradel could open his mouth again, George stomped near the gnome’s broken foot and started yelling at him.

  “Hey, mild it a bit; take it easy on her!” George was trying to stick up for me, but he didn’t know that the gnome was not finished with what he was about to say.

  “Unless, you can find the cure, that is. There are far away lands where you can find all sorts of antidotes or magickal items to remove curse brands, but the easiest way is actually one of the hardest things to do: find the main cure.”

  “Just like our kiss, George; our first kiss was what broke the spell when we fell in love. There must be a significant moment we have to experience in order for this wretched thing to be removed!”

  “But you are branded as well, George.” The gnome said in a calm voice, “Once your wound heals, your brand shall be visible. You both have to find a cure before the curse takes full effect. First, you’ll start saying things in unknown languages; second, you’ll act only on your impulses and probably harm someone or worse; third, you shall experience these effects more often, along with hallucinations of apparitions that may be ghosts or figments; and finally, the fourth and last stage before your fate is sealed as a victim of the jauish brand, the voices of a million demonic beings shall ramble in your head forever and ever, and you shall be alone, invisible to all in the Fancore. Everything shall be a haze of colorless light and darkness. There shall be no salvation after that.”

  George and I exchanged stares of grief, for we had no idea what we were to do.

  Bradel said to us with a blank expression, “I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you.”

  If there was an antidote, then where was it? If there was a cure through some other means, then how could we obtain it? George kneeled down to my level and touched my face, as I lay against the tree, barely able to breathe. The enemy had taken his first strike at me through the use of his minions. As I had no idea what we were going to do from here, I nearly fell apart in a pool of horror.

  The only two things that were important to George and me became the second of our priorities. Äbaka was going to have to wait. George’s family shan’t see him like this and, surely, he could wait a while longer after all those years away from them. The main idea of the curse, I assumed, was to ultimately destroy my ego. It was the worst possible condition that I could ever be in, especially since I was barely ready to bare children and start a life with George.

  George was speechless and kept staring at the ground, expressionless. I looked at the brand on my arm and saw a type of sword wrapped in a darkness that could not break away from the blade. I considered that speculation to be the one I was sticking with because it made perfect sense. The swirling disease of hopelessness around the sword was slowing down its strike, and that in turn would be helping my enemy prevail. I couldn’t hold back a question that formed in my mind. “Is there a chance that the cure might be found in destroying the weapons that made the wounds? There has to be some sort of reverse effect, right?”

  My question made the gnome wonder. He had never thought of such a simple method to reverse the curse. With a few strokes of his beard, the little man nodded and asked, “Which one cut your arms like that?” I replied with a short response, “The female bow woman who had a magick energy sword. She was the one who put a gash in your arm, right George?” With a nod he replied, “But she did it with an arrow that she picked up off of the ground. We have two different weapons used against us. The only question is, how do I take a magickally generated sword from a dead jaqa when the weapon is no longer present; as dead as the wielder herself?”

  Bradel gave me an immediate answer as if it were obvious, “The only way is to harvest fresh blood from the wielder.”

  “Fresh blood?”

  “Yes, that means that you will have to go back to the slain jaqa to harvest her blood. It should still be fresh, but I’d hurry if I were you. It won’t stay for long.”

  I put my swords behind my back, jumped to my feet, and ran as fast as my legs could race to the area where we had fought. I had to get a phial full, so that I co
uld destroy the magickal energy. My only obstacle was a bad limp from the battle. I had twisted my leg and pulled a muscle. It wasn’t just our sanity that was on the line in these harsh jungles, as predatory animals prowled in the area.

  George carried the gnome and followed me so that he could retrieve the arrow that had sliced his arm open. It was a full mile jog through trees, roots, shrubs, and wild animals, intent on eating us and using our bones as tools. There were a few times a monkey got close enough to bite my arm, but I was quick enough to retaliate by punching it in the face. Roots seemed to be thicker and higher, as though the trees were trying to trip us off of our feet. The entire jungle was trying to stop us, throwing in obstacle after obstacle. Could it be that we were already in the third phase; hallucinating the animals that were coming after us and the trees trying to trip us? What was Bradel seeing?

  When we finally made our way back to the bodies, I immediately found the corpse of the hideous female lying on the ground with her jaw wide open and forked tong hanging like a two-headed worm. Observing her hand, I noticed that in between her two fingers and thumb, there was a small item strapped around her thumb and down toward her wrist. I unraveled the small contraption from her hand and took a moment to study it. When I squeezed it, just a bit, the whole thing transformed into a large, red sword that connected to my hand and wrist. It turned out that these weapons were not conjured though magick, but they were strange, new weapons that may have come from Galistar, the galaxy my forefather used to tell me about when I was a curious adolescent. It was actually the same place where the communication link my father gave me came from.

  George searched all the arrows scattered across the jungle dirt until he found one baring his blood on its jagged, steel tip. Holding it up, he looked over his shoulder at me and saw the large blade of energy extending from my wrist. As I turned to look at the gnome, he crawled over to me and started to speak in a low voice.

  “You both have the weapons that marked you; now, all you need to do is find is a way to destroy them.”

  I looked at the blade with bizarre interest. I knew that it was not near as reliable as Soba or the bow, but there was something telling me to keep it. But it wasn’t the fact that it was fascinating; it was a hesitation that George felt as well. Simply breaking the weapons seemed too easy. It was almost useless for them to have even cursed us in the first place if it was as easy as that. I released my grip on the small device and let the blade disappear into its tiny projector. At the first sight of my action, the gnome gasped and asked us, waving his hands about, “Why do you hesitate to destroy them? It only takes one spell to destroy an object! Surely you know it?”

  “We know,” I answered, “it’s just too easy. There has to be some sort of alter or shrine that we can throw them into. I think a cure would be made to take effort. The jaqae would not make this curse if the cure took no hardship to find.”

  Nodding his head in agreement, the gnome put out his hands in a sort of sign language; his right hand was completely open to reveal his palm and his left pinky touched his right hand with his left thumb sticking up. Neither of us was entirely sure of what it meant. I gave him a curious expression so that he could explain to us what he was trying to tell or ask us.

  “I wish to accompany you on your travels, chosen one.” He said in a firm tone, “You could use as much help as you can get. The battles ahead shall make the one that has transpired here seem like a game.”

  “What was your name again?” asked George.

  “I am Bradel, a war veteran of Lux Invicta.”

  “What is Lux Invicta?” I asked, scratching the back of my head.

  “What?” exclaimed the gnome, “you haven’t heard of Lux Invicta? Where in the Fancore have you been then?”

  He knew the word Fancore? It was so shocking because I thought my family and a few others were the only ones who knew of it. I was completely speechless and stricken with severe panic for the safety of Äbaka’s secret discovery.

  “That word, Fancore,” George inquired, “where did you hear of it, Bradel?”

  “Why, it is the very essence of life. It is the fabric of dreams and fantasies that our dimension, and other dimensions, think up in their minds. It is why our world is so diverse and far more complex than most others. The greatest thing about it is-”

  “Where did you hear it,” I asked, “not what is it?”

  “The Order of Fantasy, Lux Invicta, and the Sorcery Allegiance are the few who know of the Fancore,” said Bradel in a cautious tone, “now, if you wish to ask me any more questions, it is your time wasted. I know where you can destroy those weapons. So, am I welcome to join or not?”

  I had a great deal of questions about the groups he named, but they were to wait until after George and I got rid of our brands. “You’re in,” I said, “where are we to destroy these cursed weapons and be rid of this horrid curse, Bradel?”

  “I’ll show you. Follow me to Shimbia. We’re taking an airship across the globe, you see. Flamé, the continent of fire, awaits us; the place where the largest volcano on all the Imgan worlds sleeps. Its name is Hala King of Fire Mountains. Those weapons would make a fine offering to the gods who watch carefully over that area. If we attract their attention, they might release you from the stigma.”

  Knowing that there truly was no other way known to us, we sealed the deal and moved to the north. We planned on boarding a public airship in Shi Shii to land in the capital city on Flamé. As the jungle became restless, so did we. Even while all the animals tried to attack us, I stood my ground and showed little fear against the wilderness. If it wasn’t wildlife that was going to kill me, then it surely wasn’t going to be a damn, bloody demon like a jaqa and its foul curse! George, Bradel, and I finally made it to the city after three days, including breaks in between. Every day I checked in with my parents on the comlink, but I kept our curse secret in order to not create panic.

  Whatever was happening to us, it wasn’t about to last while I was still well enough alive. I tried to bring Soba and Loyal One back to their original forms, but I simply didn’t know how. No matter. I was armed and dangerous; a living threat to anyone who dared to stand in my way. But no matter how strong I felt, something inside of me kept screaming, and I knew for certain that it had nothing to do with the jauish curse.

  Chapter 9

  When they are harmed, do angels weep or do angels scream? Perhaps both, as they unleash their wrath. I always thought they’d forgive but, boy, was I wrong.

  ~George Gibson Goodwill

  About three days into the process of getting to Shimbia, with a two-hour break per day and five hours per night, the gnome and I were ready to just ask if we could have a day’s rest. But there was something burning inside of Sui that I could feel, but hardly comprehend. It was a deep, heavy energy that she had been holding in for a long, long time. I didn’t know what it was, but one thing was certain about it: it was lending her the energy she needed to keep trailing through the jungles with little to no rest. There were a few times we had a break, but we didn’t linger in once place for long. During one of our rest stops, I recall a story that Bradel was telling us while we were sitting by a glowing fire in the middle of the night.

  “Recently the followers of Jobik have given themselves a name. They call themselves Exitius, which in a certain language means eternal death. I assume it’s because they realize how much they are growing, and when something grows to be large enough, it is considered worthy of a title.”

  “Why are they so damn proud of themselves?” I asked. “It’s not right.”

  “Have you forgotten?” Sui asked bitingly, “we’re talking about Jobik and his followers. Since when have they been in the right?”

  I bowed my head in embarrassment. It’s just that I was so fed up with all that was happening. I didn’t want there to be any conflict, but that was the reality we were facing. I just wanted to settle with Su
i and become a father, and I was sure that Sui felt the same. Jobik was ruining everything between us.

  “But we are growing as well,” Bradel said hopefully, “Lux Invicta means redeeming light in that same language.”

  Sui and I nodded, bearing hope as well. But title or not, we would have to build up Lux Invicta and destroy this Exitius for what they were doing to the Fancore. We only rested for three hours before Sui stood and continued north. This was our last break before we reached Shi Shii.

  “George,” Sui called to me, “we have to keep moving now; the city is just a few miles ahead.”

  The end of the jungle was filled with life forms that couldn’t stop watching us. I could see the eyes of hundreds of nocturnal animals peering coldly at me in the early morning. The cool air was the worst of it all. The fog and the gentle breeze whipping down my spine gave me the most eerie feeling I had experienced in a long time. The brand upon our shoulders was gradually growing larger. My wound was three inches wider than it was before I went to sleep. Sui’s evil tattoo had also grown two inches wider and she had the same terror in her expression as I did. I prayed that Bradel knew what he was doing.

  I couldn’t hold in the deep, low yawn that came out, as I was dying to get some shuteye for once on this trip. We needed some sort of transport animal to take around like the crossicute that was shot down. The gash in my arm began to throb relentlessly, warning me that terrible things were sure to follow. In the hours we spent traveling that last mile, the air seemed to get cooler. That was how Sui knew that we were getting close to Shimbia. The trees of the jungle were shaped together like a green dome over the planet. When we finally reached our way out of the trees and onto the fields, I wondered if she recognized the shrinking of the trees as we moved closer to the northern edge.