The Lotus Effect (Rise Of The Ardent)

by Bridget Ladd

I remained conscious as I hit the water far below, my body so tired, barely able to make my arms and legs move to break the surface. Once above the freezing water, I tucked my legs to my chest, allowing the current to wash me away downstream. An angry voice yelled above me, but I ignored it, letting the sound of the water drown it out.

  I watched as the clouds made their own river path through the open sky, the dark tree line becoming their banks. I looked upon the clouds for an undetermined amount of time. It was soothing, painless as the cold water numbed my body, my mind.

  Pebbles dug into my back once the current slowed. The water level lowered, exposing my body to the air, leaving me shivering. Though I had stopped moving, my head continued its own stomach churning motion. The clouds above formed together, darkening my vision.

  A face.

  A gray beard with a short pipe lingered above me, masking out the sky.

  Move.

  At first I was irritated. This face was blocking the clouds, my peace. I sighed, too tired to care.

  I just wanted to sleep. Let this nightmare of unimaginable horrors end.

  ~

  I awoke startled, sweat pooled in the crevices of my shirt as I tried to calm my frantic mind. An orange glow emanated from across the room. At the sight I shot up and retched soundlessly over the edge of the thatched couch, emptying no contents. Sparks exploded behind my eyes as I blinked blearily around.

  I was in the cottage now.

  I was safe. My parents?

  No.

  I took two large calming breaths, realizing I’d only fallen asleep. Everything I had just experienced—every sickening, heart-deadening moment—was a dream.

  “Lily?” Xander whispered down to me, worry lacing his tone.

  When did I fall asleep? I was confused and slightly embarrassed, noticing I was now lying stretched across the thatched couch like an old bodger who had his fill of supper and decided to take a nap.

  I rose quickly, ignoring the dizziness that lingered. I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, attempting to clear my vision. When I looked again, I saw Teizel sitting in the wooden rocking chair across from me. He didn’t appear to have noticed my distress for he continued to smoke his pipe while gazing into the fire before him.

  “I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I . . . I don’t know how I could’ve fallen asleep. I was dreaming . . . it was horrible,” I breathed out in a rush.

  “Ah. My apologies, I forget the effects of the pipe on the . . . inexperienced.” Teizel said, turning around to face me. “You were only out for a short while, no need to hide your blush my dear. It happens.” He turned back to the fire. “To some of us, that is,” he added to himself.

  “The dream felt . . . it felt so real.” I sought confirmation in Teizel’s face as he sat amongst a cloud of bluish gray smoke.

  “Dreams . . . visions . . . they’re one in the same in the forest my dear. The trees have that effect on newcomers. The burning of the bark allows you to see what they want you to see. An evolution of the mind, body, and spirit with connection to the earth.” Teizel said this as if such information came naturally to him.

  “Visions? You mean to say that what I just experienced could’ve really happened?” I wiped a layer of sweat from my forehead. My heart still pounded a driving rhythm in my chest sprung from the horrors of the dream.

  “Sometimes life takes cruel turns before it’s able to find the light of the journey,” Teizel said with blurry eyes as he turned to look back at me. His face, though wrinkled, looked young as the firelight slid across it. The moment passed however and I blinked, staring once again into the deep crevices of an old man’s face.

  I continued to sit forward on the thatched couch with elbows on my knees, my hands in my hair. Xander’s jaw was tight. It was the first time I noticed something was bothering him. He said nothing as he slowly kneeled to my eye level.

  He released a breath.

  “Lily, it’s my fault you fell asleep. I should’ve warned you about the smoke. My lungs are used to its effects.” Xander stood, extending a hand and glancing somewhat accusingly towards Teizel. He turned his attention back to me. “I believe I promised you some fresh air,” he whispered.

  I stood unsteadily, accepting the offer of his outstretched hand.

  “We should get going while we still have cloud coverage. I also wanted,” He paused. “I wanted to show you something before we go.”

  Ignoring his words, I stared hard at his hand as it held mine. I had never noticed all its many details before. But now that I saw them—a wave of recognition hit me. The lines of each knuckle, the small scar beneath his ring finger, the tightened skin of a burned wrist . . . .

  It was the same hand that picked up the rock that was thrown into the cave. The same hand that brushed back the limbs and leaves as my dream-self fled through the forest. The same hand that was bruised and bloodied as I looked upon the remains of the fiery cottage.

  “It was you I dreamed about,” I gasped, covering my mouth with my own hands. “Your parents . . .”

  Xander froze.

  Keeping his back to me, he placed both palms flat against the door’s frame, leaning into them for support. His head bowed low between his arms, fingers tightening ever so slightly.

  I realized then that Xander was a true Outlander, rife with revenge. I could still feel his need for vengeance burning in my veins just like I could still feel his overwhelming sorrow at the loss of his parents.

  I understood that now with a depth and clarity I never had before. I understood, and with that understanding felt a fire light within me.

  Retribution was his to have. And, so too, was mine.

  Chapter 17

  Theodore Teizel ~ Ancient Voices

  We walked in silence back through the forest, Xander always in front, helping me over precariously placed rocks and stumps as we went. I gritted my teeth every time I accepted his help, knowing that I shouldn’t be so dependent on him. I gave in after he reminded me that pride wasn’t worth a broken leg just before the Barrage.

  Memories of the dream were heavy in my mind, and I believe they affected Xander too. As though, through me, he had relived an experience he longed to forget. I wished I could somehow lift his spirits, but could think of nothing to say. So instead, I asked quietly, “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see,” he said and nothing more. He pushed back heavy limbs so I could step through without getting pricked bloody by the vine’s vicious-looking thorns. After emerging from the brush, he continued walking, taking the lead once again, his eyes hardly ever leaving the moonlit path ahead of us.

  The silence was too much. It drifted like a thick cloud between us, pushing us further and further apart.

  Xander insisted the sole reason for coming here was to deliver medicines to Teizel, but I suspected otherwise. I suspected he wanted me to know, to feel what he had felt. He wanted me to live through the horror of that dream. To know why he fought as my partner. Not intentionally, but in his heart, he longed for me to understand. Longed for me to see what was stolen from not only himself, but from every citizen.

  Suddenly, my battle had become so much more real. I knew now that my initial rebellion had been nothing more than an adolescent’s lashing out against restraint; immature, at best. Then, with Mrs. Fawnsworth’s death, revenge had become my goal . . . an unfocused, unwieldy goal.

  Now everything had changed, deepened. The Outlands, despite everything the Council had told us, were real. Real and full of life in which the Council wanted to control or—if control proved impossible—destroy.

  The Barrage was about more than myself. More than my own rebellion or even revenge. I would fight for Xander and his murdered parents. I would fight for the murdered families of all those whom the Council chose to slay on a whim.

  I knew now that I would expose them; that after so many years, it would be I who would force the detriment of their lies back into the depths of their own soiled hearts.

  ~
/>   I watched Xander’s dark silhouette move in front of me.

  Always aware of his surroundings, his footfalls hardly making a sound as compared to my heavy steps over the deadened leaves and twigs. To my credit, the further along we went, the quieter I became for I began to mimic his every step.

  Still, he was too quiet. I couldn’t stand seeing the slight slump of his shoulders, the only evidence of him trying to hide his pain.

  “Who were those men that attacked you?” I risked asking. “They spoke with such harsh accents . . . a different language.”

  To my surprise Xander responded, though he didn’t stop. “A gang of thugs hired by the Council to live outside the Wall. They work for the Warehouse; accepting shipments as they come in from the Harvesters, apprehend those who . . . survive the fall. Only their leader understands English. The rest do not speak our language so they cannot correspond with those inside.”

  His pace slowed, and he turned his head slightly. “They don’t speak at all now.”

  My heart skipped a beat at his words, my forehead creasing as I slowed. A muscle in Xander’s jaw clenched as he continued forward, the only sign of him registering my shock. “Not all of them,” he amended softly. “Just the ones that count.”

  The ones from the vision.

  I caught up to him. “Xander, is that why you joined the Barrage? After seeing what happened to Mrs. Fawnsworth? Knowing that the same happened to . . . to your parents?”

  Xander stopped. “We both have survivor’s guilt. I know that. I just . . . refuse to let it go. That night, what I saw in your eyes, told me that you can’t either. So yes, that’s why I joined.”

  “Xander, for what it’s worth, I’m so extremely sorry for what happened to your parents.”

  He started walking again. “Teizel should’ve never showed you that,” he said coldly, looking over his shoulder at me. “It’s my burden to bear and mine alone.”

  “What do you mean?” I hurried to catch up, peering around him, trying to find his face. “I know he said it was a vision, which is even beyond my understanding, but for him to,” I couldn’t think of the proper word. “Conjure it up for me? That doesn’t even make sense.”

  “And it won’t ever make sense to you, to anyone,” Xander confirmed, turning to face me. “Teizel is the only remaining Elder of the city.” He continued before my mind had a chance to catch up. “He’s different. I’m not sure how he discovered the effects of the smoke. But I do know he’s lived a long time. Most of that time he has lived here, in the Outlands.”

  My eyes widened when my mind grasped what exactly he had just said. “You cannot be serious. You mean he’s the original Theodore Teizel? One of the founders of the city?”

  He nodded.

  I was so daft. How could I let a name like Teizel escape my memory? All those books I read of him as a child . . . .

  “But he has to be over a hundred years old!” I exclaimed. “He looks old, but not that old!”

  “He’s had one hundred and three namedays to be exact. An ancient bodger if there ever was one,” Xander said, his eyes seeming to brighten as with his mood.

  I was shocked. “They said he died from a contracted disease of the lung. Obviously another fabrication. So why did he leave?”

  Xander’s expression became unreadable again. “He left for the same reasons you’re fighting in the Barrage. He didn’t approve of the Council and their take on how Prosper should be governed.”

  I pushed a wisp of fallen hair from my face. “So he raised you after—” I began to ask, but thought better of it. “And he taught you all that you know? What did he mean by that?”

  Xander crossed his arms, turning and leveling his eyes to mine. “Pretty much like it sounds. He taught me how to fight. To survive. To train my mind. He wanted me to succeed where he could not—the Elders didn’t die from old age, Lily. The Council at the time killed each and every one of them. Teizel escaped, and like us, he blames himself too.”

  All the Elders killed? But why?

  I swallowed hard as I took in Xander’s strong features and the expression held therein. Not only did he fight for his revenge, but he also fought for the revenge of a city Elder. An Elder who established City Prosper.

  What an intense life he must’ve led under the direction of someone so influential. I wondered if Xander was ever allowed a moment to be a child after that fateful day in the forest. I knew the truth after remembering his feelings of fear and remorse. Xander had no time or desire to be a child anymore. That day, though still quite young, he left childhood behind him forever.

  “We’re here,” Xander said suddenly. I watched in confusion as he began unlacing his boots. “You can wait for me if you like. It’ll only take a moment.”

  “What will?” I frowned, still confused as he pulled his tunic overhead, leaving me to stare at the scars of his agile back wrapped tight with muscle.

  He hurried off past the rocks beside us. I blinked. “Wait! Where are you going?” I almost shouted at him, but caught myself and returned to a whisper. “Weren’t you supposed to show me something?”

  Xander turned, backpedaling away from me, swinging his arms in which now carried his hastily removed boots and tunic in hand. “Take a look. I am.”

  Chapter 18

  A Trance Interrupted

  “Xander, where—” I stepped towards the outcropping of rocks and froze. The closer I got, the quieter the little insect noises became, replaced with a familiar sound . . . a continuous, thunderous roar.

  The ground beneath my feet vibrated slightly as I approached, carefully and hesitant. My fingers grazed across the chilled surface of the rock that stood between myself and the sound.

  —My curiosity finally getting the best of me, I stepped past, gazing upwards into the immense power of another waterfall.

  NaRoo.

  My breath caught in my throat at the sight. Like the first one, this waterfall too rained in great sheets that pulled together to form one massive downward rushing wall of water. Plants scaled the sides of the brown rock face that neared at least two hundred feet high, their roots reaching deep into the dark pool below.

  I lifted the toe of my boot away as the mist created from the water’s onslaught slowly drifted towards it.

  “You look surprised.” Xander grinned as he placed his boots and shirt next to the boulder. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to get in. I just—after seeing you struggle in the well—I thought you’d might like to try,” his voice carried off and he looked away, realizing he probably shouldn’t have brought that up.

  Crossing my arms, I shifted nervously on my feet. “So this is why you told me to wear clothes that could get wet? To go swimming?”

  Xander smiled. “Not exactly. You can, if you want. There’s extra fuel I keep hidden behind the falls. I find that if I leave it with Teizel—things become problematic.”

  I chuckled in disbelief. “How so?”

  Xander repositioned the handle of a hidden dagger along the belt of his trousers and turned, an irked grin on his face. “He doesn’t like me coming back here—for him. He tampers with it.”

  My eyes widened. “He tampers with fuel? Fuel that keeps us . . . aloft?”

  Xander smiled slightly, looking to the ground. Innocent and somewhat shy—it nearly killed me seeing him like that after just reliving the horrors of his childhood. How did anyone find happiness, displaying it in something as simple as a smile after an event such as that?

  “Hope.” The word seemed to find me on the passing breeze.

  “Don’t worry. Last time he did, I had made it back to the hanger without incident . . . only until my pack cooled and I ended up with a week’s worth of gunk to clean from the jets. Oh, and the smell—you don’t even want to know,” Xander said, his voice releasing me from my dark thoughts.

  I made a face and nodded slowly. “I see.”

  Xander was looking expectantly at me then.

  “What?” I asked, feeling uncomfortable ben
eath his gaze.

  “Well? You coming?”

  Swallowing hard, I looked to the falling water, memories of being trapped in the water well surfacing. “You go ahead . . . I’ll catch up.”

  Xander noted my hesitation—it showed in his eyes—but he didn’t question, only nodded. He then graced me with his scarred back again—the puckered skin of knife wounds, bite marks, what I could only imagine to be claw slashes—and sprinted up the side of the Waterfall’s steep hill.

  With one great leap, he dove under the water.

  I waited for him to resurface. Fifteen seconds passed, and still, I hadn’t spotted him. I started to worry, but then I saw him, pushing himself up and onto the rocky ledge, dripping wet and enveloped by mist. He turned and gave a reassuring salute before disappearing behind the waterfall.

  Walking back to the boulder, I leaned my head against it and released a nervous breath. Come on, Lily. You won’t drown. You won’t.

  With a sigh, I rubbed my palms down my face and stepped away from the boulder. This may be my only chance to find out.

  ~

  Making sure Xander was completely out of eyesight, I unlaced my tunic, now revealing my brown tank-top and the tan shorts that I’d cut from a pair of tight trousers on a sweltering day while working on my first axe. I rubbed the sides of my arms, not against a chill for the air was temperate and comfortable—but against my feeling of outright nakedness. I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing anything less than a corset and a bustled skirt while at the Estate. In my mother’s eyes at least.

  Walking barefoot, I made my way past the outcropping of rocks. I carried my outer layer of clothing and boots in one arm and placed my other awkwardly across my chest, not completely sure what to do with it.

  Finding a dry patch of grass, I bent low and hastily arranged my clothes on top. My boots kept falling over so I chucked them to the side and started towards the water’s edge, walking on tiptoes to avoid the sharpest of stones. Looking hesitantly into the dark translucence, I saw my own face rippling across the surface. I tested the water’s temperature with my toe, breaking the reflection. It was cold. Keep going, my mind urged. This was a luxury I couldn’t pass up.