“Is that what—”
“I was wrong okay?” she blurted out, “I shouldn’t have blamed you for leaving.”
“Is that it?” he asked.
Clem furrowed her brow. “No. I’m sorry,” she reached out and put a hand on his shoulder and her expression softened, “So incredibly sorry about what happened to your parents. They were good people. They didn’t deserve it.”
Oren looked at her without moving.
“Well?” she asked after a moment, “aren’t you going to say anything?”
“Shh.” Oren cocked his head, listening. “Do you hear that?”
He unsheathed his blade and raised it over his head. It clanged as it collided with the jet black blade of a hasai dropping from above. It landed with a throaty clicking noise, preparing a second attack. Clem yelped and fell back. The bones of its eye sockets protruded under the flesh covering them, and its black mouth was a blur, filling Oren’s head with twisted whispers. It cocked its head and listened. He glanced up and saw two more closing in, leaping from tree to tree.
“They’re in the trees! Run!” Oren shouted.
He attacked with mountain wind ascending, knocking the hasai blade away, then charged shoulder first into the creature, shoving it off balance. Oren turned and ran after Clem, who wasn’t far ahead. It didn’t take long for him to catch up to her.
“You have to drop your pack! It’s slowing you down,” he yelled as they weaved between the trees.
“Not a chance!” she shouted back.
Oren glanced behind and saw one of the hasai slow unnaturally mid leap, then speed up, rebounding off three trees in under a second. This is not good, he thought.
Oren finally burst into to the clearing where they had stopped to rest earlier, only to find Khalil battling two more hasai. He moved like water, evading their attacks and countering at just the right moment. The hasai attacked in tandem, one assaulting while the other delved for weakness.
Khalil leapt back, drawing them apart. As he did, the rear hasai slowed, gathering time. Khalil sprung diagonally past his closest attacker and pushed off a tree, changing direction. He landed next to the slowed hasai and spun, slicing horizontally with horizon’s edge. His blade cut clean through its neck, but before the head could topple, Khalil spun again with a roundhouse kick, knocking the severed head into the other hasai. It exploded on impact with a deep BOOM, and the second hasai was frozen in time, along with everything else in the small radius of the stasis bubble.
He turned to Oren. “Where is Clementine?”
Oren looked around urgently. “She was right behind me!”
A scream came from within the wood. They shared a worried look, and darted toward it. Oren’s heart pounded as he sprinted at full speed. There was motion up ahead. Fear gripped him at what he might find there. A few more steps put her in sight. She was struggling desperately, grappling with a hasai that was clawing at her coat. What she didn’t see was the second assassin with its weapon drawn, clinging to the bark above her.
They were too far away to stop it.
“NO!” Oren watched in slow motion as the hasai released its hold on the bark and descended toward her. She glanced up at the sound of Oren’s voice and saw the threat falling from above.
Clementine suddenly became distorted, as if seen through the bottom of a drinking glass. The light around her refracted and she vanished. The hasai she had been grappling with was shoved back by something unseen, and the one falling from above landed, slicing its black blade down through empty air.
Khalil and Oren stopped suddenly. They and the two hasai stood in shock. Oren quickly dropped his bow and quiver, which would only get in the way. He and Khalil squared up, taking the water faces rock form, and the hasai charged. Oren and Khalil fought with deadly grace. Khalil wore a calm expression as he defended, parried, and countered. Oren on the other hand, clenched his teeth, attacking furiously. He clashed with such ferocity that his opponent was forced to give ground. He knew he was leaving himself open more than was necessary, but he didn’t care.
“Control your fury, Sa’di,” Khalil’s voice came from nearby, but Oren wasn’t listening. His blood was on fire. He was going to make this abomination pay for trying to kill Clem. He leapt toward it, stabbing down with eagle dives for hare. It deflected the attack, but Oren was relentless, following immediately with hummingbird’s kiss. It deflected the first two darting attacks, but the third sank into its ribs. The ragged hasai hissed, enraged. Oren pulled the blade free and kicked the hasai hard, knocking it sideways. He leapt, raising his blade to finish it off with the headsman’s axe. As he launched toward it, his eye was drawn by movement directly ahead. Another hasai! Oren thought with panic. Its blade was inches from his face when a white arrow pierced its right eye. Oren’s blade continued on its course, slicing through the neck of his target. The whispers in his head went silent.
“Sa’di! Away!”
Oren looked up, then remembered his training and jumped backward just as another BOOM sounded all around him. The air solidified and motes of dust froze in place directly before his pupils. He landed on his rear and scrambled back, staring at the bubble of frozen time before him.
Khalil pulled him to his feet. He was furious. “Foolish tifl! I should never have allowed you to leave town. You are not ready!”
“I’m fine,” Oren said, trying to mask his fear and shame.
“Fine? If not for Clementine, you would have been skewered, or worse!”
Clementine twirled an arrow in her fingers with a smile.
Oren had never seen Khalil this upset, and decided not to push his luck. He nodded to Clem and brushed himself off. More faint whispers filled his head. “Do you hear that?” he asked.
“More come. Listen to me carefully, you must head north through the wood. When you reach a broad stream, follow it west until it bends sharply south, then cross it and turn north once again. Continue until you reach the river, and follow it upstream. You will come to a waterfall.”
The whispers grew louder. Khalil scanned the trees then continued, “There is a hidden stone path that leads behind it. Follow the path and you will find an entrance.”
“What about you?” Clem asked.
“I will hold them off. Now go!”
Oren hesitated, but Khalil had already turned and knelt down with his fists on the ground. He began to distort and blur, vibrating unnaturally despite remaining motionless. The hairs on the back of Oren’s neck stood on end and he took a step back. Without warning, the blurring exploded outward in a flash of light, sending leaves and small debris into the air. Oren blinked to clear his vision, and Khalil came into focus, kneeling in the same spot. Oren blinked again, rubbing his eyes. There were two other Khalils several feet away on either side of him.
The whispers were now so loud they threatened to drown Oren’s thought. He looked up and saw at least five more hasai leaping through the trees toward them. He turned to Clem. She was staring at Khalil with wide eyes, her mouth agape.
“How…they look just like him,” she stammered, looking back and forth.
All three versions of Khalil turned to them and shouted in unison, “GO!”
Oren grabbed Clem’s arm and yanked her into motion. They ran through the woods with the sound of clashing blades behind. It grew fainter as they put more distance between themselves and the fray. They pushed hard, doing their best to follow Khalil’s instructions, but these woods all looked the same. Oren peered up trying to gauge their direction; it was difficult to pinpoint the sun through the thick canopy. Eventually, they stopped to catch their breath in a clearing. Both Oren and Clem panted wildly with their hands on their knees.
“What...was that?” Clem asked breathlessly.
“Talk…later,” Oren responded, equally out of breath, “have to keep…moving.”
He took a drink from his canteen and handed it to Clem. She drank deeply.
Oren froze. “Listen,” he said.
“I don’t hear anything,” answe
red Clem.
“That’s just it. No birds, no wind…nothing.”
Oren felt a sickening tugging sensation in the pit of his stomach.
“Oh no,” he whispered.
Clem looked at him in horror. She too knew what it meant.
A deep throbbing hum filled their ears, and the forest around them became dim. They backed up unconsciously.
A voice whispered from all directions, “Yeeeesssss.”
They spun, searching desperately for the source of the disembodied voice, only to find inky darkness staring back at them from between the trees.
“Little, lost lambs without their shepherd.”
Oren had his blade out, though he didn’t recall drawing it. Clem held an arrow notched, trying to aim it in all directions at once. The air itself was oppressive. It weighed on them, urging them to give up and just lie down. It’s so much easier to just rest. Oren heard the thought as his own, but something felt wrong. His shoulders slumped.
A tiny voice yelled frantically in the back of his mind. He focused on it, clinging to the part of himself that still fought. In that voice he found something he’d always known was there, but the power of which he’d never truly understood, until now.
Defiance.
The feeling grew, strengthening him against the oppressive gloom.
“Show yourself!” he shouted. He was terrified, but his fear was overwhelmed by waves of pure outrage at the very existence of this being.
The whispering, guttural voice sounded amused. “The little lamb has teeth.”
“Big words for a coward hiding in the shadows!” Clementine looked surprised by the sound of her own voice. Their eyes met, and Oren’s resolve grew. If they were going to die, they would go out fighting, together.
A low growl joined with the thrumming, and a shape emerged from the blackness directly ahead. It glided forward into the clearing wearing long, hooded black robes embroidered at the bottom with thorny red roses. It slowed to a stop across from them, and pushed back its hood. The head that lay beneath was barely more than a skull. Its pale visage housed two large, blinding white eyes. Their stale, hollow light threatened to burn away the sanity of any who looked for too long. Within its gaping jaw were two rows of crimson teeth, permanently displayed in a lipless grin.
Oren felt himself shrinking back. Clementine’s shoulder pressed against his.
“Tell me, little lamb,” the words slid over each other like oil, “Will you scream as your mother and father did when I devoured their souls?” Its cold gaze bored into him, and it continued, “Their fear was almost too rich, dripping off them like the fat of a fresh, stuck, boar.” It slid a gray tongue along its bony white fingers.
Oren could listen to no more. He screamed and charged forward, embodying the advancing tide, the most aggressive form he knew. Clem took aim and released an arrow toward its face.
The creature raised its palms forward, and a wall of distorted, rippling air burst forth, encompassing them. Oren was locked in place mid-stride, his face contorted with rage. Clem’s white feathered arrow hung in the air, half way between her and her target. She too was frozen while reaching for another.
A grinding sound scraped across the surface of the thrumming hum. Oren thought it might have been laughter.
“I will enjoy ripping the life from your body, boy.”
Oren’s sword was torn from his hand, and flung aside. He heard it thunk into a nearby tree, and he began to slide forward. At the same time, Clementine’s arrow slowly flipped until the tip pointed at her forehead, and floated deliberately toward her.
Oren’s eyes bulged as he strained against the force holding him in place. It was pointless. The creature’s jaws opened wider, revealing a mass of black and red writhing flesh. He was now just a few feet away. A wretched chill clung to his bones. At this distance, he could see that what he’d thought were roses embroidered on its robes were actually tortured and twisted bodies, writhing in agony. They clawed at the black robes in hopeless desperation.
“Come, child. Bask in the dark glory of his eminence.”
Oren was pulled directly before the creature. It curled a white, clawed hand around the back of his head and slowly turned Oren’s face toward its own. Oren’s vision clouded over, revealing a battle for his very essence. He was being torn from himself and pulled into a pulsing, fleshy vortex. His scream was joined by a chorus of others as he fought to hold on. It wasn’t working. He clung desperately with the vestiges of his consciousness, but this was a losing battle. Fear and panic gripped him. This is it, he thought. Mom, Dad…I’m coming.
Oren was holding on by a single, solitary thread when a soft, warming glow filled his vision. Graceful, flowing winged patterns of gold undulated before him. They comforted him, easing the reunification of his mind and body.
Oren’s vision cleared. He had been pushed back, but still could not move.
“Get your hands off my Grandson!”
I know that voice, Oren thought. He kept grasping for the memory, but it slipped like sand through his fingers. Everything was blurry, confusing.
The terrifying creature was no longer grinning. It emanated rage and malice. Oren tried to shield his eyes, but could not raise his arms. A brilliant glow radiated from somewhere behind him, but he was unable to turn and look. His bones shook as the air itself vibrated at a fever pitch. The creature looked strained. It shimmered and warped, then solidified again. After several agonizing seconds, it exploded into a sphere of a billion tiny particles. They coalesced in front of Oren briefly, then imploded, releasing an enormous shockwave of energy. Oren was flung backward. He smashed into something hard, and all went dark.
16
The Burden
“Will he survive?”
“He will live, though he may never be the same.”
“What? Not the same, how? What do you mean?”
“Few survive the embrace of a Shaoh Mah.”
“Not to mention that knock to the head.”
“What else would you have had me do? By the time I arrived, it had nearly consumed him.”
“Shaoh Mah…they are thought to be extinct. How can this be?”
“Hush…he’s awakening.”
Oren slowly opened his eyes to the blur of lights above him.
“Uhnnngh,” was all he could get out. He lay in a bed of some sort. It was comfortable…luxurious compared to what he was used to. It might have been pleasant, if not for the throbbing ache pulsing through his body. Why did his head hurt so much? Three hazy, indistinct figures stood over him, two on each side.
“Shh, don’t try to speak. You are lucky to be alive, child.”
That voice. It was so comforting. I know that voice. Slowly, the figures became a little clearer. Clem was looking down at him, her eyes filled with worry. She had a bandage on her forehead.
“Hey…Clem. You’re…hurt,” he said breathlessly.
“She said not to talk you big dummy!” Clem said grinning. Had she been crying?
“Indeed. You would be wise to conserve your strength, Sa’di,” Khalil said. “Few would have survived such an ordeal. You are very lucky.”
“You’re…not…mad?” Oren could barely whisper.
“No, Sa’di. I am not angry.”
Oren smiled.
“Do not worry, once you have recovered, I will provide many opportunities for you to think on your…misjudgments.”
Despite the looming punishment, Oren’s smile lingered. For the first time in weeks, it felt like their little group was okay again. He looked to the fourth figure and gasped, squinting.
“M…Mom? Is that you?”
The woman standing over him looked like she had just been dealt a blow. “No. No, sweet child I am not your mother.” The voice was shaky. Slowly his Noni came into focus.
“You!” he whispered. Years of pent up emotion came bubbling to the surface. He was furious, as furious as he could be in this weakened state. He tried to sit up, but Khalil eased him back
down onto the bed.
“I warned you of this. You should go,” Khalil said to her. “He needs time.”
She took one last look at him with sad eyes, and walked out.
Oren turned his head to the side.
“Sa’di, you must rest. When you have regained your strength, we will discuss the path forward.”
With that, Khalil looked at Clem and they made their way out of the room. Oren didn’t have the strength to hold his eyelids open any longer, but he could hear them talking on the way out.
“Sa’di?” Clem asked, “Why do you call him that anyway?”
“It means fortunate one. When we first met, he was nearly…” Khalil’s voice faded as they walked away, and Oren drifted off.
***
Oren clung desperately to the side of the slippery cliff face. Ocean waves crashed violently hundreds of feet below, sending spray high into the air. Two thunderheads collided above, generating bolts of lightning and bone-shaking thunder. A figure stood above him, looking out from atop the cliff.
“Hey! Help me! I’m slipping!” Oren shouted.
The figure ignored him. He glanced down, looking desperately for an escape. The ocean had become a massive, swirling vortex.
“Oren!” a tiny voice shouted desperately from below. “Oren, help us!”
“DAD! Dad is that you?” He felt an uncontrollable panic bubbling up.
“Oren please! Get me out of here! I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe, get me out of here!” The terror in his mother’s voice was unmistakable.
“Mom! Dad! No!” He was utterly powerless. A low, grinding laughter filled his head, then everything went silent but for a whisper.
“Join us.”
A blast of cold wind knocked him from the cliff. He fell backwards into the abyss.
Oren’s eyes shot open. His heart was pounding wildly in his chest, and his sheets were soaked with sweat. He lay there panting, staring at the stony ceiling for several seconds. It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real. He repeated it in his head until his breath came more regularly and his heart slowed to a normal pace.
Light snoring nearby drew his attention. He squinted, and could just make out Clem, curled up in a chair across the room. Small mechanical objects were scattered around her on the floor. She stirred, stretching her arms and yawning.
Recreance (The Aeternum Chronicles Book 1) Page 21