by Matt Moss
Across the field of grass the five men ran, and countless numbers of Ungaki ran behind them. Arrows zipped by their heads as Arkin and the men fled. The horses were a good mile away so they wouldn’t give alarm, leaving the option of riding away out of the question. Arkin knew they were done. He knew this because his soul was tapped out and he couldn’t do anything about it. Even if he had a stone that he could use against them, he feared that he didn’t have the strength to wield it.
As the five of them ran, breathing deep and slowing with every stride, Arkin knew the Ungaki would soon catch them. With eyes cast at his feet so not to trip, he didn’t see the stranger standing in the distance.
The man was dressed in black.
Arkin knew who it was upon sight. Another gut feeling. Lucian. Hate seethed inside him as he saw his enemy, but he lacked the strength to confront him.
“Who is that?” Hobba yelled.
Before Arkin could answer, a beam of green light emerged from Lucian’s hand and shot straight into the sky. Behind them, the horde gained ground and was closing in on them. Arrows hissed by Arkin’s head and buried into the ground in front of his steps. He kept his eyes on Lucian.
The beam disappeared and the stone surged in Lucian’s hand.
“Get back!” Arkin told the men, motioning them to the sides. The five men parted ways, leaving a clearing, and Lucian extended his hand towards the horde. The ground rumbled and shook, but the Ungaki were lusting for the blood of their queen’s killers and paid it no mind. With a thunderous crack, the ground split and broke apart at the horde’s feet. Thousands of screaming men plunged into the ravine as the earth quaked with rage. As the dust cleared, Arkin and the four men looked to Lucian in awe.
Lucian walked to the break and peered down into the abyss. He tossed the stone into it.
Arkin walked to him. “Lucian. It was you inside the Whistlestop. I’ve been counting the days, waiting to confront you for the murder of my father.” Arkin turned the sword in his hand. “I’m going to kill you.”
Lucian turned to him. “Save your threats, boy. I’ve heard the same from more men than I can count, and none of them are alive to testify. Everyone of them thought as you do—thought that they were serving some greater purpose, some hand of justice. Can I offer you some advice?” He squared up to Arkin and looked him in the eye. “Be humble.”
Arkin clenched his jaw and felt the urge to feel Lucian’s bones break within his hands, but knew he lacked the strength. Surely he’s tapped out, as well, after using the stone. He tapped, ready to strike.
Lucian narrowed his gaze at Arkin. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You’ve barely anything left and wouldn’t last a minute against me. I don’t want to kill you, so don’t force my hand.”
In the tap, Arkin searched his power and found it to be incredible, still.
“Good choice,” Lucian noted.
“Who are you?” King Hobba asked.
“Nobody important. But for pleasantries, the name’s Lucian.”
“Another man of the west. It seems powers run strong from that region,” Hobba stated.
“From a few, yes. Nothing that you couldn’t learn to do yourself, though,” Lucian replied. He looked back to Arkin. “I’m here to take you home.”
“What are you talking about? Don’t come here and tell me what I’m going to do.” Still furious in recalling their past, Arkin stepped closer to Lucian, daring him to make a move.
Lucian didn't let ploy get to him. “Your mother requests your presence. And she asked me to bring you home safe. That’s what I’m going to do because what your mother wants, she gets.”
“The hell you are,” Arkin stated and raised his chin in defiance. “Make a move.”
Lucian grinned and clenched his fists. “Unconscious, if I have to.”
Hobba looked all around. “Look. We’ve done it,” Hobba said in amazement. “We’ve destroyed the Ungaki.”
Arkin turned his gaze from Lucian and met Hobba’s. “Does this mean the tribes will unite?”
Hobba nodded. “Yes. With the announcement from Emperor Xar declaring the Ungaki destroyed, the tribes will unite to fight against the threat to the west.”
“He has no proof that they’re destroyed,” Lucian noted.
Arkin glared at him, then turned back to Hobba. “He’s right. How will Xar know that we defeated the Ungaki?”
“He has our word. Word from us all. That will suffice,” Hobba stated. “And there will be no more attacks from the Ungaki. Everyone will see that.”
Arkin breathed a sigh of relief, then turned back to Lucian. “What of my mother? She lives?”
“Yes.”
“And she knows that I’m alive?”
Lucian nodded.
“Then why should I want to see her? She’s been out of my life and now I’m supposed to forgive her and take her back? If she knew I was alive this whole time, why didn’t she come to see me?”
“She thought you were dead, murdered in your first year,” Lucian replied. “Had she known you were alive, she would have sought you out long ago, trust me. She loves you. You owe her more respect than what you’re showing.”
Arkin shook his head. “I’m sorry. It’s just… I’ve never known her. All I have is my father’s memories of her that he shared.”
“Then get to know her. You’ll be sorry if you don’t,” Lucian said. He cocked his head as he gazed at Arkin. “You have her eyes.”
Arkin searched deep into Lucian’s eyes and found a soft side to them. They told truth, holding no deceit. In all of Arkin’s travels, he’d never met a man more sure of himself than Lucian. It was the way he carried himself, like a lion’s pride in the jungle—the king commanding his territory. To Lucian, the world was his kingdom, and everyone else was subject to his will. Arkin admired that about him, but he also loathed it.
Arkin was apprehensive and looked to Hobba for advice. The king put a hand on his shoulder. “Go home. The tribes will unite and I will lead them to join you.” He looked to Lucian. “Are you with us, or against us?”
“I don’t take sides,” Lucian replied.
“One day, you won’t have a choice. You’ll have to pick a side,” Hobba told him. “Arkin, farewell my brother.” He gripped Arkin’s hand.
“I never said I was going,” Arkin told the king.
“It is your path,” Hobba stated with a smile. He waved his hand in the air, telling his men to depart. “See you soon.”
Arkin watched the king and his men leave. He turned to Lucian. “I’ll go with you. But we still have a score to settle. After I meet with my mother, we’ll finish what you started when you murdered my father.”
“Fair enough. We’ll settle up then. Let’s go,” Lucian replied.
Arkin looked past Lucian and threw his hand out. “Go on. Lead me home, then.”
Lucian gave him a cautious glare. “Watch your tone around me. I promised your mother I would bring you home. I didn’t say in one piece.” His eyes solidified the promise before he turned and walked on.
“Whatever,” Arkin said. He fell in step with the man that would lead him home and deliver him to his mother. At long last, Arkin would return to his home land. He thought of Lyla and wondered how the Order faired in his absence. He wondered about Victor and how far the Religion had spread. He wondered if he would see Moses at the camp. Against logic, he knew his path was set before him. Arkin followed his instincts.
He followed the man in black.
FIFTEEN
The Order’s camp was no longer a refuge for the survivors. It was a war camp. Torin made sure that they wouldn’t cower in fear and despair any more. As the rain fell on a cold, gloomy day, he paced in front of the line, sizing up his recruits. He raised his voice so all could hear. “All your lives, you’ve worked the trades—blacksmiths, tailors, fletchers, doctors.” He stood proud in front of the people and crossed his arms. “No longer. Our past life is over. Now, we fight. Now, we take our freedom back. No more l
iving in the shadows, waiting on someone to save us. It’s time to save ourselves. It’s time to pick up arms.” He nodded, assuring himself of the words as much as everyone else. “And I’m going to show you how.”
“Ready,” Lyla instructed the group and held her bow staff poised. The people followed her every move with staffs in hand, imitating her actions as she showed them the basic moves of defense. “Block. Low block. High block. Stance.” She returned to a fighting stance and observed the trainees. “Keep your knees bent slightly, never lock them. Mind your feet. Often times, they determine the outcome of a fight.”
Torin picked up a staff and confronted Lyla in training. He spoke to the group as the two made ready to spar. “Never press the attack, unless you deem it to your advantage. Try to counter whenever possible.” He attacked Lyla at half speed so to demonstrate the moves. Lyla blocked while stepping back until she saw an opening and stopped the staff shy of Torin’s neck. She snapped the staff to her side and addressed the people. “More often than not, your opponent will make a mistake. Look for that and make them pay. Be patient. It will come.”
“Pair up and spar with one another. Practice what we’ve shown you so far and take turns being the aggressor,” Torin told them.
“I’ll go get some water for everyone,” Lyla said and jogged back to the camp. Who would have thought I would be training people on how to fight. She still couldn’t believe the way her life had gone, especially after visiting home recently and seeing how it could have been. It was strange to her that she could no longer picture herself living that sort of life. Part of her felt sad that, had Torin never showed up that one day, she would still be living there, oblivious to this new life she was leading.
Despite everything I’ve been through…that we’ve been through, I wouldn't change it for the world. She had hope, despite Torin’s objection to the matter. Hope doesn’t get you killed. She believed that they were doing the right thing and the universe would work in their favor. It was hope that lifted her up.
After filling half a dozen water skins, she made her way back to the group, smiling and feeling good about the future. Not even the thought of Cain betraying them could bring her down. She had actually gotten over her once-friend and his actions, and it drove her will to overcome Victor and the Religion even more. What’s done is done. We live with our actions. We learn, we move on.
We change.
Her introspection broke as an old friend came into view. She dropped the skins and ran to greet her master. “Joko! What a pleasant surprise,” she said in excitement.
Joko met her with smile. “Hello, girl.” He embraced her, then looked down, unable to look her in the eye.
She could tell he forced the smile to mask the pain. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. After the second time she asked, his emotions got the best of him. “I’ve failed again. Failed the Almighty, myself, and my master. Now he’s dead because of me.”
Lyla frowned and held Joko at arms length. “Who’s dead? What are you talking about.” Not Moses.
He raised his glossed-over eyes. “He made me run away. He made me…”
“Who made you? Joko…” Tears began to well in her eyes as she knew the name he was about to say.
“Grandmaster Moses. He willed me away. I would have stayed and fought. I would have died with whatever honor I had left. But now I have none, and he is gone.”
Lyla looked away, trying to act strong as she comforted him in her arms. “Who killed Moses?” she asked, but most likely knew the answer.
“The high priest,” Joko replied. “They tried to take the garden, but I fought his army off. I defeated them and his commander, but my power was not enough to defeat the high priest. Moses saved me and, in doing so, spent all of his strength. All to keep me alive.” He looked at Lyla with tears streaming down his face. “Why? I am not worthy of being saved. Why should someone as great as him sacrifice his life for mine?”
Without hesitation, she answered. “Because that is the greatest thing that anyone can do. That is the greatest gift anyone could give. And he wanted to share that gift with you.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t want it.”
“It’s not your choice, Joko. It was his. Take a breath,” she told him and breathed deep herself. “Feel the world around you. It’s alive. His sacrifice was a gift to you. And if you deny the gift of life, you shame not only yourself, you shame him, too.”
He stared at her wordlessly for a moment before casting his eyes to the ground and walking ahead. She stood there, sad for him, and sad that Moses was gone. Though she only met the man briefly, she knew that he was a great man. A pure man. I just wish that I had the chance to know you more.
She caught up to Joko. He stopped walking and spoke. “You’re right.”
“I know,” she replied.
He turned his head to her and grinned.
She giggled. “I’m glad to see you again. Seeing you makes me smile.”
“Likewise,” he replied.
“Come. We’ve just started training and could use your help.”
“Training?”
“Yes. We’re preparing to wage war against Victor.”
Joko stopped and looked her in the eye. “Do not go to war with him. He is too powerful. Even a thousand soldiers would be no use against him.”
She rested a hand on her hip. “Well, we can’t just sit back and do nothing. Soon, the Religion will reach this place, along with the rest of the kingdom, and they’ll put everyone to the sword who doesn’t convert. I would rather strike first instead of lay in wait. His numbers grow every day.” She gazed at the trainees ahead. “Let’s hope Arkin returns soon.”
“Arkin. He is the one Moses sought out to train?”
Lyla nodded and they began walking again. “Moses sent him to unite the clans.”
“That is good. Let us pray that he has focused on his training and will bring all the help he can get.”
They approached Torin as he gave instructions to the group. “Down. Up. Again. Again. Do not stop until I tell you to stop. These exercises are not fun, and they’re not supposed to be fun. They are designed to make your body strong, hard—able to last in a fight. If you can outlast your opponent on the battlefield, the odds are stacked heavily in your favor. Here’s where you put in the work. And if you do the work, I promise you will see the fruits of your labor.”
“That is the way of the universe,” Joko added, greeting Torin with a smile.
“Baldy! How the hell are you? It’s been awhile,” Torin replied and shook his hand.
“Yes, it has. I have been better.”
“Moses is dead,” Lyla said, speaking for him.
Torin’s face dropped. “No. I don’t believe it.” Joko looked into Torin’s eyes and gave a solemn nod. Torin turned around and put his hands on his hips. After taking a breath, he turned back around and spoke. “I’m sorry, Joko. I know he meant a lot to you. His brother, Paul, was a mentor to me and I miss him every day.” He put his hand on Joko’s shoulder. “Just know that it gets easier. At first, it feels like there’s a hole inside of you; like something was ripped away that you didn’t even know was there. The world becomes dim, doesn’t make sense anymore. Thoughts become dark. But then time passes and all that’s left are the good memories. Sad feelings are replaced with joy and thanksgiving because, in the end, the ones we love never leave us. Not really. Their souls remain imprinted upon our own and we carry them with us. And that’s a very comforting feeling.”
Joko thought about the words, then grinned at Torin. “You know, you are wiser than you look.”
Torin scowled and gave Joko a shove. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Joko rolled off the shove and held his hands up, as to fight the big man, bobbing and weaving in jest. Torin addressed the people as he pointed at Joko. “Do not fight like this man. He knows nothing.”
“Ha,” Joko laughed.
Torin stepped to the group. “And who said it was break tim
e? Go on, now. Finish strong. Up. Down. Good. Now keep going until I say stop.” He turned to Joko and Lyla. “Let’s go. We have much to catch up on.”
“What about them?” Lyla pointed. “You just told them to not stop until you said so.”
“They’ll figure it out,” Torin replied and marched off towards the camp.
“Forgive the mess,” Torin told Joko as they entered his command hut.
Joko saw the splintered and broken wood that lie scattered about. “Looks like a bull was loose in here.”
“Cain stole The Path of Man from us. Victor has it now,” Lyla said in a cold tone and pulled out a couple of boxes that were still left in tact for them to sit on.
“Is this bad?” Joko asked.
“Yeah,” Lyla replied, scratching her head. “There are secrets hidden inside the book; secrets that Cain and I had recently discovered. That’s when he took it.”
“What secrets?”
“Like how to soul tap into other levels of power.”
Joko cocked his head. “This is no secret. Moses has passed this knowledge along.”
“Really? Why haven’t you shown me? You could have at least told me about it,” Lyla replied.
He shook his head. “You were not ready.”
Torin spoke. “Look, we’re not here to discuss the book or soul tapping.”
“But if we could learn this power…”
Torin cut her off. “We’re here to discuss what to do in moving forward. We need a plan of attack.”
“Knowledge is power,” Lyla grumbled and looked away.
Torin breathed deep. “Yes. And maybe Joko can enlighten us on the higher aspects of soul tapping after we devise a plan.”
“Will you?” Lyla asked her master. “Please. We’re running out of time. It could make all the difference in the war.”
“I still don’t think you are ready, but yes. I will show you.”
She clapped her hands in excitement and turned to Torin. “Alright. So, what’s the plan? I say we ride into Kingsport, march right up to the high priest, and make him beg for his life.”