The First Kaiaru

by David Alastair Hayden

  Motekeru stepped up to Awasa and took both of her hands in one of his. That freed up Iniru, so she ran over and held Turesobei’s weaker white-steel blade against the other side of the beast’s throat.

  Motekeru pulled Awasa in so that their faces were only inches apart. Snarling, she struggled even harder to be free.

  “Look at me,” Motekeru ordered. “Look deep into my eyes.”

  She wouldn’t meet his gaze, so he kept repeating his command until finally she did.

  “Good. Now, I want you to listen closely. You are not the anger. You are not the rage. Those forces give you power, but they do not define you. Awasa, do you know what you want?”

  “I do,” she growled. “I want to break free. I want to kill them all. And I want to be left alone.”

  “Then you must harness and control your rage. And for that, you need the dark blade.” He pressed the sword toward her. “You need Fangthorn.”

  She shook her head and muttered something unintelligible.

  “Fangthorn, think of that name. Think of what it represents. Do not reject the dark blade. Embrace the control it will give you over the power within.”

  Awasa gave him a withering look.

  “The sword does not control you. The sword gives you control. Take the dark sword from me. Seize Fangthorn. Seize control.”

  Awasa looked as if she wasn’t buying any of what he was saying. But then suddenly, she ripped one of her hands free and grasped the handle. Motekeru let go of her other hand and stepped back.

  With a surge of strength, Awasa broke free from Kurine and Zaiporo. She whipped around and brandished the sword at Motekeru.

  An expression of surprise crossed her face, then she staggered backward. Zaiporo and Kurine moved in to restrain her again, but Motekeru waved them off.

  “Remember the secret fire,” Motekeru said.

  Turesobei had no idea what he was talking about.

  “The secret fire,” she muttered. “I control the anger. The anger does not control me.”

  “The mudra of calming.” Motekeru reached out and touched Awasa’s left hand. “Do it.”

  She contorted her fingers into position and immediately began to breathe deeply. The eight-pointed star faded from purple to violet, and her fangs withdrew.

  “Mudra of focus,” Motekeru commanded. Awasa did as he requested. “Mudra of awareness…mudra of identity.” She did each in turn. “Do you know the secret fire?”

  “I contain the flame,” she said. “But the flame does not burn me.”

  Awasa sighed, then lunged in and hugged Motekeru. She stepped back and rubbed a hand across his cracked and battered chest. “You’re hurt,” she said with concern.

  “I will be fine,” he replied.

  She turned Turesobei and the others. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

  The giant ape moved its hands and flexed its legs. Iniru stabbed it in the shoulder, but that only made it more angry. The kagi-ga began to thrash and tried to sit up.

  “We can’t wait any longer!” Iniru shouted.

  “Awasa,” Turesobei said, “I need an energy transfer—desperately.”

  “Got it!” Awasa said.

  She leapt up onto the beast. She formed her left hand into the complex mudra of draining, which Turesobei couldn't manage, then plunged Fangthorn deep into its stomach.

  Roaring with anger, the ape flailed and tried to knock her off, but Motekeru charged over and slammed both fists against its forehead. Stunned, the creature settled back, and then the life began to fade from its eyes as Fangthorn did its work.

  “If I stop now,” Awasa said, “Motekeru could finish it off and eat its heart. He needs to heal.”

  “No,” Motekeru said. “The transfer process is inefficient, so all the energy must go to Master. We have to leave here as soon as possible.”

  Awasa plunged the dark blade deeper into the ape’s gut, while maintaining the mudra. When the giant ape finally died, the corpse began breaking down immediately.

  Awasa jumped clear then sat down, panting. “Give me a moment. That wasn’t as easy as it looked, especially after going through what I did.”

  “Can we afford to rest for a few minutes?” Zaiporo asked.

  With a yawn that turned into a groan, Turesobei collapsed. “I don’t think we have a choice.”

  “Lu Bei!” Kurine ran over and picked up the diary, which Zaiporo had placed on a rock nearby.

  “He should be fine,” Turesobei said. “Bring him over.” She gave him the book, and he ran a finger down the spine. “He still has a pulse. Once I’m better, he’ll be okay.”

  Awasa gave Turesobei a puzzled look. “You don’t even have enough energy for Lu Bei to be active?”

  “I put everything I could into a spell of heaven’s wrath. I even siphoned off the storm overhead.”

  “That blast nearly fried me.”

  “Sorry about that,” Turesobei said.

  “It’s okay,” Awasa replied. “I’m sorry I lost Fangthorn. Without that blade, I’m a liability.” She touched the torc the Blood King had given her. “This only helps so much.”

  “What happened to you?” Zaiporo asked.

  “Once I got to the shore, I was way downriver. I held a mudra to keep myself focused, but the energy in this realm…it’s all violent and aggressive. It was too much for me to handle.”

  “We understand,” Kurine said. “We’re just glad you’re alive.”

  Iniru and Zaiporo both nodded their agreement.

  Awasa walked over and sat crosslegged in front of Turesobei. She placed Fangthorn on her lap and closed her eyes. She meditated a few moments, then with one hand she formed a mudra, while she touched Turesobei’s forehead with the other.

  “Your internal kenja is a depleted mess,” Awasa said to him telepathically.

  “I nearly died,” he mentally responded. “Zaiporo had to resuscitate me.”

  Awasa opened her eyes and, frowning, stared deeply into his for a few moments. He knew she could tell how much damage he had done to his kenja-heart and organs.

  “Turesobei…your insides are—”

  “I know,” he interrupted. “Please don’t tell the others how bad it is.”

  Awasa nodded. “If that’s what you want.”

  She closed her eyes again and took a deep breath. Then she placed her hand directly over his heart. “Okay…here goes.”

  A vibrant current of forest kenja flowed into him, along with a small amount of storm energy and a significant portion of Awasa’s internal kenja. While it helped his physical energy level a great deal, the conversion of forest kenja into the specific pattern that was his internal kenja was incredibly inefficient. However, added to what Awasa gave from her own reserves, it was enough to return his internal kenja to half its normal capacity.

  Awasa removed her hand and slumped back. She was sweating and breathing deeply, as if she’d spent the last hour running. “That’s all I can give. Is it enough?”

  “I think so. I’ll need to meditate for about fifteen minutes to properly sync this new energy to my signature.” He groaned as he stood. “It would be best to do that in the cave, where I can absorb a lot of the energy flowing into the heart stone.”

  “How much did putting everything into a spell cost you this time?” Iniru asked. “You’ve never gone that far before.”

  “I can’t say precisely.” Turesobei helped Awasa to her feet. “You know, I can only estimate based on the sort of—”

  “Oh, just say it,” Zaiporo said.

  Turesobei sighed. “Ten years…maybe.”

  Awasa gave him a piercing look. She knew he was lying.

  “Ten years of what?” Kurine asked in confusion.

  “You haven’t told her?” Iniru asked incredulously.

  He shook his head.

  “Sobei, what’s she talking about?” Kurine asked.

  He explained as they walked toward the waterfall. “Magic takes a toll—every spell, even the little ones, b
ut especially the big ones. It’s not natural for your internal kenja to be expended. The strain of doing so damages your organs, and your life force weakens. If I pass out casting a spell, that probably means that I’ve lost several months, or maybe even a year, from my potential maximum lifespan.”

  “But you don’t look any older.”

  “I am on the inside, though. My organs are all probably…thirty-five maybe?” It was actually more like fifty or sixty. “So I’m still young and vibrant now, but the outside will catch up eventually.”

  Kurine looked horrified. “That’s terrible! Why would you do that to yourself?”

  “It’s not like I have a choice. My maximum lifespan is pointless if something kills me today. And I don’t care what it costs for me to save you and the others from a certain death.”

  “But even the little spells…surely they all add up.”

  “A few minutes of lifespan here and there,” he replied with a shrug. “That’s just the price of being a wizard if you’re not a Kaiaru.”

  “You can’t undo the damage?” Kurine asked.

  “If I stopped doing magic altogether, or if I were to only cast a few minor spells from time to time, and if I were to live a clean, peaceful life with no stress, then some of it would repair.”

  “But you’re special because you’re Chonda Lu’s heir,” Kurine said. “Maybe that will make a difference.”

  Turesobei shrugged. “I hope so, but I doubt it.”

  Zaiporo remained outside, keeping watch, while everyone else stepped through the waterfall and entered the cave. The pedestal with the heart stone awaited them. Everyone sat down, except Kurine, who immediately began to search for the right pebble to add to her collection.

  After about twenty minutes of meditation, Turesobei felt strong enough to proceed. Unfortunately, the energy spike he used to shatter the force field drained his reserves, and he passed out. However, when he woke up a few moments later, he felt pretty good. He immediately realized why. Awasa had placed the heart stone on his chest.

  “So, was that another year of damage?” Kurine asked firmly, as she continued to search for her stone.

  “Maybe two,” he replied.

  “We have a problem!” Zaiporo shouted from outside. “A very big one, and it’s speeding toward us!”

  They ran outside. The thing flying toward them was the size of the giant ape and generally man shaped, with large horns and giant, leathery wings. Turesobei couldn’t make out any other features from this distance. But what he could see made him want to keep it that way.

  “Is that some sort of dragon?” Iniru asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Turesobei replied. “I’m pretty sure it’s worse than that.”

  Lu Bei fluttered back into his fetch form, took one squinty-eyed look, then shivered. “Oh no—oh no—oh no. It’s much worse than a dragon. We have to teleport out of here—now!”

  “Is that…” Zaiporo gulped “…is that Nazyraga, Lord of Monsters?”

  “Yes,” Lu Bei answered in a quiet voice.

  As he was about to begin the teleportation spell, Turesobei glanced around. “Where’s Kurine?”

  He ran into the cave, with the others right behind him, and found her once again searching around the pedestal.

  “Kurine, we have to go now.”

  “We can’t,” she said. “Not yet. Not until I get the stone for my collection.”

  “Just choose one, and let’s go!” Turesobei said. “The Lord of Monsters will be here any moment.”

  “No,” she replied as she continued to scan the ground.

  “Then I’ll have to teleport you anyway.”

  “No!” she cried.

  He began casting the spell. Awasa helped Kurine as she frantically searched the floor.

  Awasa closed her eyes and employed a mudra. “If it’s like the others you’ve collected, I should be able to sense it.” After a few moments, she pointed. “It should be right over—” a strange look crossed her face “—Iniru?”

  A tremendous roar pierced the drone of the waterfall. Then they heard the flapping of giant wings. Nazyraga was close, but he wasn’t going to reach them. Turesobei’s spell activated.

  As they arrived at the gate, Hannya said, “That took a long time. I was beginning to….” She scanned them as they all collapsed, one by one, to the ground, panting. “You all look like you delved into Torment.”

  Kurine sobbed in frustration. “I didn’t get it. I was right there, but I didn’t get it.”

  Awasa, however, was still pointing, and she was pointing right at Iniru.

  “She has your stone.”

  Chapter Fifty

  Fuming, Kurine stood. “You—you had it the whole time?”

  Iniru opened her fist, revealing a gray pebble with a blue-green spiral pattern. “I spotted it as soon as we entered the cave.”

  Clenching her fists, Kurine closed in on Iniru. “Why did you make me spend all that time searching? We could have been killed!”

  “In every realm, you get the exact same pebble. The only difference is the color of the spiral pattern.”

  “So?” Kurine asked.

  “I wanted to see how much it meant to you. I wanted to see what you would do if you couldn’t find it. Would you just choose another in a pinch, or would you be willing to jeopardize all our lives over something so seemingly innocent? Now we know you would. So the question is why.”

  “Can I please have the stone now?” Kurine asked with mock politeness.

  “What’s so special about these stones?” Iniru continued. “Why do you want them? What are you up to?”

  “There’s nothing special about them, except their sentimental value,” Kurine said defensively, “which is something you apparently cannot understand.”

  “Try me,” Iniru hissed.

  Kurine’s muscles tensed, as if she were ready to surge forward and take the stone by force. “I found the first one and thought it was pretty. When I saw the second and realized it was basically the same stone, I figured it would probably be present in every realm, which would make it perfect for my rock collection.”

  Lu Bei made a hinting cough, but said nothing. Turesobei could feel the fetch's gaze upon him.

  Iniru stepped over to Turesobei. “Do you know what she’s doing? Are you sure you can trust her? She might be working for the Blood King behind our backs.”

  Turesobei narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “I trust Kurine—completely. And I would think that after all we’ve been through, you would too.”

  Ignoring his argument and his anger, Iniru held the stone out. “Have you examined these closely?”

  “I have seen the stones while my kenja-sight was active,” Turesobei said. “There’s nothing unusual about them.”

  “Oh, come on,” Iniru groaned. “You don’t think it’s weird that despite the many centuries separating each realm that this pebble always appears in the cave and is the same size and shape every time, with only that little bit of difference in color?”

  “Yes, that’s weird, but that doesn’t mean they’re special or that they have some sort of sinister purpose.”

  “Sobei, one of the stones even appeared on the cliff in the Cloud Realm! Don’t you think it should’ve been buried in the earth, at the place where the cave would normally appear?”

  Turesobei shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?” Iniru scoffed.

  “Look, I can’t explain that, or why the pebbles are always basically the same. They do absorb more kenja than most rocks, but only a little. They are harmless.”

  Awasa nodded. “They seem perfectly normal to me, too.”

  Iniru shoved the stone right under Turesobei’s nose. “Look again—closely. Be certain.”

  “I trust what I’ve already seen,” Turesobei responded angrily. “And I trust Kurine.”

  “You hardly know her,” Iniru said with exasperation. “Use your kenja-sight now. Do it again…for me.”

  “No,” he
replied flatly.

  With a sigh of irritation, Hannya stepped forward. “This is tiresome. That is a koretu stone. They are rare—very rare. The dominant kenja in an area, especially if great magic has been worked there, will stain the crystalline patterns in a koretu stone. That is why the stone looks different in each realm. As to why you can always find it, I have no idea. And in case you are wondering, Lord Gyoroe is aware that she is collecting them, and he is not the least concerned about something so trivial.”

  “Koretu stones?” Lu Bei asked in confusion. Then his eyes went wide. “Oh! You mean sochai stones. Yes, Master had two of those, only they were much larger and shaped differently than these. I should have realized that’s what they were.”

  “Indeed, you should have,” Hannya replied.

  Scowling, with her ears turned down, Iniru opened her mouth to say something…but nothing came out. She threw the pebble down and stalked away. As she went, Turesobei thought he heard her mutter something about how they used to be a team.

  He knew the stones had irritated her since the beginning, but he hadn’t realized that they bothered her this much. But then maybe this confrontation was more about his and Kurine’s matching goshawk brands than anything else.

  “We're all tired and stressed,” Zaiporo said, trying to smooth things over. “And I'm sure Nazyraga is still after us. I think we should get out of here.”

  “Nazyraga?” Hannya asked with alarm.

  “He came after us,” Zaiporo replied. “We just barely teleported out of the cave in time.”

  “We have to go—now!” Hannya hurried to the gate, eyeing Iniru as she went. “I cannot believe you wasted precious time with ridiculous teenage drama.”

  She chanted, with Turesobei and Lu Bei providing a chorus. Before they finished, Nazyraga appeared on the horizon—heading their way with incredible speed, far faster than even the Storm Dragon could fly.

  “We teleported,” Zaiporo said. “How did he find us? How is he moving so fast?!”

  With a flash, the gate opened.

  “This is his realm,” Hannya said. “He is far stronger and faster here than anywhere else.” She nodded at the cylinder in Turesobei’s hands. “Of course, he should soon become a whole lot less powerful.”