The Irispire Portal

by Robinson Castillo

  "Okay well then let's get the F out of here," I say. "Also, do you have a spare thermal? Or maybe another pair of pants or something. I look like a jackass standing here like this."

  Kyle looks up at me and tries to hold back a chuckle. "Yes. Follow me."

  He leads me to another bare room with paint chipping off the walls, and provides me with a fresh, white thermal suit. He gives me back my Halcyon applicator that I attach to my hip, along with my paired wrist applicator and earbud, which are all connected wirelessly. I pick out a blue shirt, jeans, brown boots, and brown leather jacket combo for my image modulator to project onto my thermal, and away we go.

  Five minutes later and I am walking behind Kyle down a tight corridor, my shoulders barely touching the walls at our sides. I am sweating from the heat running through the steam pipes inches above my head. As we walk along, taking small turns, I notice that the floor dips, constructed with a strategic decline. Then from a few feet ahead comes the echoing sounds of flowing water through metal pipes. The smell, too, gets progressively more oppressive.

  "Where the hell are we, Kyle?" I ask coughing.

  We get to a closed door, which Kyle opens to reveal the side entrance to a sewer tunnel. The circular tunnel is twelve feet in diameter. There are three foot wide walkways along the sides with a river of fecal matter and water running down a central canal. There are small lamps about every ten feet, giving off an eerie white light, illuminating the moist sewer walls.

  "We are in the sewer system beneath District 7," he says. "And heading deeper into its belly. I used an enormous amount of energy so that you may live, Bearer. I needed somewhere close enough to Ashyanthinasi so that I could access it, but distorted enough so that my elven brothers and sisters did not find me quickly."

  "Well, I'm not the Bearer anymore,"

  "Hmm. I guess you're not," he considers. "Come," he says, before leading me into the sewer tunnel.

  I'm not the Bearer anymore. The thought lingers as we walk. I have been the Bearer for a very long time, and now I feel everything.

  The Destroying Angel used to take away the hurt. The bigger the pain, the longer it took. But even the most serious injuries won't last more than a day. It's the reason I've been alive so long. But it's the little hurts I feel now. These are the ones my sword used to wash away almost instantly after I feel them. It's the normal discomforts — nuances that make people ordinary. I shiver because there is a chill. When there is an itch or tickle on my skin, I scratch it, and the burning after my fingernail leaves the scratched area persists a few milliseconds longer than it used to.

  It's as if I've been living with a steady dose of morphine for centuries, and now it's gone. No wonder The Rending is so powerful. It's like going through drug withdrawal symptoms multiplied by a billion. I can't even imagine what it was like for my mother, who had the sword for nearly four thousand years before she went through The Rending. But now that I've gone through it, and come out the other side, I feel more alive in a way like the ex-smoker that can now eat and notice the subtleties of flavor in his food. I am now capable of dying, and the thought of it is freeing.

  "How much further?" I ask.

  "We have a ways to go yet," he says.

  We pass a four-way intersection where water from four tunnels fall down a central pit, and I assume it continues to another tunnel beneath us. The sound of the falling water is near deafening.

  "So how far are we?"

  "We are deep in the belly now," Kyle says, gagging. "The erolith cannot track us this deep. I cannot access Ashyanthinasi. So even if they did follow us, their powers would be suppressed as well."

  This is why elves love the great outdoors and hated claustrophobic locales like this place. Having uninterrupted contact with The Field gives them their strength.

  After a few more twists, turns, continued descents, and times where Kyle and I stop to puke due to the stench, I start to smell something else. Fresh air.

  We get to a T-Intersection, and he gives me the signal to stop. He puts a slender finger to his lips and lightens his steps as he turns down the left tunnel. We continue until another intersection and then stop. Kyle kneels, and I kneel with him. He opens his palm and begins whispering some words. The air hums around us as Field energy gathers around Kyle and concentrates into a tiny spinning diamond made of white light. The light hovers above his palm for a moment, while clouds of frost swirl around it. Then he snuffs out the crystal by closing his fingers.

  "We are getting close," he says. "I can access my magic. Now should anything happen, you are to run. You understand me?"

  "Nah, screw that. I'm not leaving without you," I tell him.

  "Well if you are determined that we should both escape, then ready yourself and be on guard."

  My muscles begin the tense and loosen cycle it usually goes through before a fight. Following Kyle's lead, I get on my toes and keep my eyes alertly shifting. I imagine what I am going to do. Visualization is key to winning a fight. As my eyes dart in every direction, I imagine what would happen if we run into an erolith soldier every time we approach an intersection or cross-tunnel. But what the hell can I do anyway? I'm crippled. I'm normal. I used to be able to do a lot of things, pull off fighting maneuvers without thinking because I had the confidence that my body was capable. There was no fear because I knew that if I get hurt, as long as I had my sword, I'd be okay. What the hell am I supposed to do? I can't take on any erolith in this state. I could die. What the hell am I thinking?

  My hands shake. I can't breathe. I try to inhale faster and heavier, but I can't get any air.

  Kyle turns around, grabs my shoulders, and looks into my eyes.

  "Calm yourself, friend," he says. "These are elves hunting us. You're going to have to be far more silent. Slow your breathing."

  "Wait. Just wait," I say, trying to get my breath back. "I feel...What is this? Am I nervous? I don't know if I can fight. I don't know if I can even..."

  "Okay, relax," he says. "As I said before, we can go our separate ways. They are not after you. You can go and live a normal life. The kind of life Azrael took away from you when it chose you."

  A normal life? I can live a normal life. I mean, I have money. I have a home. Kyle already set me up with a new identity. Nyyx Mara. That's who I am now. I don't have to be crawling through a sewer and smelling this bile. Maybe I'll meet someone like Emily. I can have a family again. I have the body of a man in his thirties, more than enough time to build something worthwhile. I can have everything back. The thoughts of normalcy calm me down.

  Then I look at Kyle's golden brown face, his green eyes, and spiked brown hair. I can't have a normal life. Not now. I wouldn't be able to live happily if I knew that my normal life came at the price of Kyle's death.

  "No, it's okay," I tell him. "I can go on."

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah I’m fine,”

  Kyle pats me on the shoulder. Then his eyes grow wide and he yells, "DOWN!"

  He covers my head and we both duck. There is a flash of warmth as a mote of flame flies over our heads, and crashes on a sewer tunnel wall twenty feet ahead. The flaming projectile splatters and fizzes as bits of it touches the wet sewer floors.

  I turn back. Four humanoid figures are running down the tunnel behind us. Their running footfalls are swift and light. They're wearing dark protective leather suits, lined with yellow trim. Along their armor runs glowing, orange, swirl patterns. Normally, I wouldn't be able to see the erolith's sharp elven features from this far out, and in this intermittent dark. But the crystals of orange light they are creating in front of them allows me to do so.

  "Run!" Kyle yells, pulling me from the ground and pushing me forward. I struggle to get my feet under me, but when I do, I run in a full-out sprint.

  "Where am I going?" I ask him.

  "Keep running," he says. "I will tell you where to go."

  I turn facing forward. A buzzing womp sounds behind me. I look back, and there is a hazy blue
barrier over Kyle’s forearm, which he holds up like a shield behind him as he runs.

  Then four bursts ring out in quick succession behind me as whatever magic the four erolith are hurling hit Kyle's shield. The blue barrier Kyle is holding up flickers with each hit. Then Kyle says some words in Elven and the air thrums around us to reinforce it. I look beyond Kyle. About fifty feet behind us, four little diamonds of orange light form in front of each of our pursuers. They are preparing for another attack.

  "Take your next right!" Kyle says.

  I turn right at the first intersection we come across, then turn left down the next one as per Kyle's direction. They make the turn forty behind us and launch four more flaming missiles in our direction. All four hit Kyle's shield. Kyle grits his teeth at each of the bolts impacting his arcane barrier. He's breathing heavier, and there is a slight limp in his running stride. He's fading.

  I'm fading too. My quadriceps are burning. Every time I propel myself forward with my right leg, there is a click and pull in my adductor muscles. Every inhale feels like a stab in the lungs. After relying on my magic sword to shorten my recovery time to seconds for centuries, I've now become a substandard athlete losing his wind.

  "Please tell me you have an exit strategy," I say to him, panting.

  "I did have an exit strategy," he says. "Then you persistently disagreed with it."

  Kyle gathers Field energy into his left hand, causing a floating crystal of white light to materialize above his palm. As it spins, chilling white frost smoke around it. Then Kyle turns around, slowing down enough to orient himself and run backward, facing our pursuers. While his left-hand holds up the shield, his right shoots out a beam of white light. The beam hits one of the erolith in the leg. The leg freezes, ice spreading from the point of impact. It immobilizes the erolith's leg and slows him down. His buddies have to move him out of the way so they could continue coming after us. Then Kyle turns back around and continues running behind me.

  "Take your next right," he says.

  I come to a four-tunnel intersection and turn right as directed. I have no idea where I'm going. I'm running slower and slower, unsure of my steps, my legs aching. Also, there are magic hurling elves coming after me. Before I get to the next intersection, two erolith enter our tunnel from an adjoining one. They look down one direction, then turn to ours. Their eyes open wide, surprised that we are so close.

  "Kyle! Up front!"

  I get down in a baseball slide. Kyle shoots another beam of ice at one of the erolith in front of us and hits her square in the face. I kick the other erolith in the knee as I am mid-slide, dislocating the joint. The erolith's leg flops out from under him as he howls in pain — human, elf, ogre — I don't care what you are. If you have knees, I am going for them. They are probably the worst designed joints on the body. Push them any which way, except the way they're supposed to bend, and they are toast.

  I get back up using my sliding forward momentum and continue running.

  "It's nice to see you still have some maneuvers," Kyle says to me.

  "Muscle memory, I guess."

  I look back. The two elves we downed are still on the ground. Then the one whose knee I messed up touches his leg. Eddying yellow light shines from his hand. He gets up. Damn elves, and their healing. The other elf, the one whose face Kyle froze, puts her healing hand to her pretty face. Then they both snarl at us and begin their chase. Their four comrades join them. And now there are six.

  "How much further?" I ask Kyle. "I'm fading fast."

  "Turn left at the next intersec—"

  Six flaming bolts strike Kyle’s shield. He is thrown forward by the impact and falls on the ground. His shield spell remains steady, but it is breaking down and is shorting out. I look down at him. Blood is dripping out of his nose.

  "Go," he says. His mouth is full of blood. "Leave me. I don't have much left."

  "Like hell," I tell him.

  I pick him up and get him to his feet. He's stumbling now. We are not moving fast. The six erolith are about forty feet behind us. I look back as they gather energy for another full attack. They launch. Six bolts of fire race towards us. The bolts strike Kyle's shield with a wild explosion, strong enough to send us hurtling forward fifteen feet. We crash on the wet concrete. I end up drinking some sewer water and immediately spit out what I can.

  "Leave me," Kyle says. "I only have enough for one more spell."

  "You idiot. I am not leaving without you. So either we both die, or we both live. Those are our options."

  "Fine," he says. "Take the next door to the left and then jump."

  I look up at our six pursuers. Two of them take the lead. The other four unsheathe shortswords. The two at the head of the arrowhead formation gather energy into glowing orange crystals in front of them. Then the air starts to move and twist around Kyle and me. Kyle's loading up for a spell of his own in the form of a radiant, spinning, maroon crystal in front of him. Then he hovers his hands around the spinning maroon crystal. Reality warps and bends around his hands. The magic crystal glows brighter, the spell intensifying.

  I get nervous. I've never seen Kyle do that before. I've only seen one other person do that with Field energy — one of the most dangerous people on the planet. Then Kyle unleashes the spell. A sphere of kinetic force launches from the maroon crystal with a loud vibrating WHOOMP. The walls shake as the force bubble shoots down the tunnel towards the six erolith, and sends them all flying at least thirty feet back.

  Kyle struggles to stand up. I put my shoulder under his arm and help him hobble forward.

  "What the hell was that?" I ask him.

  "This...is not...the time..."

  Then he presses the applicator button on his earbud. A holographic screen appears in front of him with a keyboard. He types in an alphanumeric password. Then a holographic main window with the words 'Halcyon' written in white lettering on a blue field appears like a floating screen in front of him. He slides across all his windows, finds the appropriate one, and presses a button marked 'send.'

  The words 'Triangulating....tracking..." appears, followed by two sets of numbers that look like coordinates. The numbers are counting down. Then he presses the button on his earbud, and the screen disappears.

  "Okay, let's go," he says.

  I smile at him. He smiles back before his eyes roll to the back of his head, and he passes out. I lift him over my shoulder in a fireman's carry. I run to the next door I see with Kyle draped over me. I open it to an access hallway — the same kind of access hallway we came in. My legs are done. The hallway ends after twenty feet at a door. There is an access panel on the side of the wall with a red line lit up at the top. Locked.

  I look behind me. Nothing. I kick the door. The door holds. The running footsteps of the erolith are coming up fast behind us. I kick the door again. It budges but doesn't break. An erolith opens the door to the hallway twenty feet behind us and shoots a firebolt. I duck and wait. I try to time the projectile. Then I bash the door with my shoulder in unison with the flaming missile. The door breaks open. Then I jump.

  Eight

  I'm falling. It's a thousand foot drop to the top of District Six's Buller Building — its tallest skyscraper. If I hit it, time to impact would be eleven seconds and some change. If I somehow miss it, as well as the other buildings jutting out of District Six, like thousands of sharp needles, and somehow fall to its street level, then it'll be around sixteen and a half seconds until I go splat on the pavement. Chances are, however, I'll become a bug on someone's windshield before any of those two possibilities comes to pass. Air traffic is light between districts, but once you get down to the district proper, cars are everywhere. Right now, in the soft summer twilight, District Six's traffic looks like a thick cloud of swarming metal — spinning, spiraling, looping, and swooping like millions of LED fireflies.

  When I jumped from District Seven's sewer systems, I had Kyle over my shoulder in a fireman's carry, but now he is in front of me, with me hugging his
waist as we both plummet. I orient myself, twisting in the air so that my back is to the ground, and I am looking up at District Seven. From far away, the undersides of Minneapolis' floating districts look like masses of torn up earth, or the bottoms of trees uprooted. District Seven is getting farther away, but I can still see the access door we jumped from. Our six erolith pursuers jump out of the same access door. They angle their bodies, decreasing wind resistance, and fall towards us fast.

  I reorient myself so that I am facing down with Kyle beneath me. District Six is getting dangerously close. Colossal, floating, holographic screens showing high definition advertisements are getting bigger by the millisecond. The closest one is showing a close-up of a beautiful brunette, winking. Then the camera pans out to reveal that the beautiful face is inside a helmet, then pans out, even more, to reveal that she's living in one of those eco-domes on Mars. Then the word 'Halcyon' appears in peaceful blue handwriting, followed by their motto: 'The future awaits you. We're already here'. After that, the screen goes back to its regularly scheduled program: The District Ten Bulldogs vs. The District One Twins baseball game. Go Bulldogs.

  I look back up. The erolith are falling in an arrowhead formation, with the two lead elves — the male elf I kicked in the knee, and the female elf whose face Kyle froze — forming the tip, and the other four arranged in a perfect V behind them. The front two elves form little diamonds of orange light in front of their faces. The swirling patterns on their black leather uniforms glow orange as well. They're loading up to hurl some more spells at us.

  I move my hands so that I can get access to Kyle's wrist applicator. I press the button to activate it, and a holographic window pops up, asking me for the password. I type in the alphanumeric code I saw Kyle type in earlier, and it gives me access to all his windows. I scan through and find the window showing two sets of numbers representing degrees of longitude and latitude, both counting down 3...2...1...0. I brace myself for impact, my arms tightening around Kyle.