by Amanda Churi
Weak in both body and mind, Tah practically had to pull herself up the sand dune, her skinny calves begging to crumble the entire way. Lugging both her pack and entitled brother along, she reached the summit after what was far too long, gasping in awe. “Look, Toboé!” She harshly elbowed him in the ribs as both an incentive and form of revenge.
“Hey!” Toboé sharply stepped out of Tah’s reach, scrunching his nose and squinting his small eyes to gaze past the sun directly above. His jaw dropped after Tah’s.
The towering baked walls looked like they were floating via the sun’s mirages swimming across the sand. Elegant palaces and modest housing poked above the peaks, building on top of one another as the city grew with the mountain in height, a formidable, sparkling marble house of worship glistening and glittering at the tipity top. This city, Jericho… It had loomed just beyond her village her entire life?! Why had she not come here sooner?!
“Cool!” Toboé exclaimed. “Let us go!” He no longer needed his sister to lead him, scampering off down the dune and racing toward the city.
Tah lingered for a moment, smiling as she watched him go. It was so beautiful in comparison to the huts she slept in and famished land she hoed. She had already promised her mother that she would bring her the herbs, but afterward? She was sixteen, and although it was not favorable for a girl to go off on her own, especially when she was still able to rake in a fair dowry, who cared? She was already an outcast among the outcasts; where was the harm in furthering that status? In such a large city, there had to be some sort of place for her—something more fair and equal than what consumed her everyday.
Staring at the city’s walls kept her smile high, but when she decided to look a bit closer, her heart missed a beat and dropped down into her chest.
A camp—there was a camp and people outside the city, sharpening weapons and roasting lamb, all facing the walls in a threatening manner.
The challenge! Tah remembered with a jolt. Mother told me there was unrest in the city! “No, no, TOBOÉ!” Her legs were spinning, creating a sandstorm as she raced to catch up to her brother, who was too sheltered to properly understand just what a force like that meant.
She had already gotten such a late start in comparison to him, and the sand might as well have been dough, resisting every lift and pull of her legs. The harder she tried to run, the faster to move, the slower she went, nearly tumbling face-first and taking a mouthful of sand. “TOBOÉ! TOBOÉ, COME BACK! IT IS NOT SAFE!”
Tah’s desperation triggered something previously not functioning in Toboé’s brain, causing him to stop and face her. But by then, she slowed; she didn’t want to keep running and give the rebels a reason to attack once they realized what was happening, coming up behind her brother while bearing arms.
Toboé made the connection that something was off, turning around to face a tall, rugged man cloaked in weathered robes with wings of soldiers behind him. Toboé did not move, gawking and bug-eyed as the man leered and loomed over him, brown eyes slivers and face crinkled with suspicion. The child shook in the heat, the dusty air clogging his windpipe and eyes frightfully racing back toward Tah.
Tah threw her hands up and opened her palms wide. The flock of men beside the confronting soldier pointed their spears in her direction and readied their swords. “Please!” she cried, carefully advancing one step at a time. “We mean no harm! W-we just came to get some medicine for my father!”
“Why would you dare support the dealings in this wretched land of Canaan?!” The chief grabbed Toboé by his shoulders and shoved him back in Tah’s direction. Toboé squealed and raced into Tah’s arms with a crushing hug. “Go! We are at war with the Devil!”
Toboé was sobbing profusely into Tah’s flat chest. He blew his nose and wiped his snot over her body, but Tah paid no attention to him, intrigued by the man’s selective wording. “Devil? Could you be speaking of Satan?”
Her interest raised the man’s brows—his soldiers’ as well as they slowly lowered their weapons. “His influence that has spread through the land, yes.”
“As it has spread through mine!” Tah agreed with a frantic nod. “My village worships the death goddess Reeve and mocks me when I speak of our true savior!”
“…Yet you come to this unholy land to take the corrupted medicine within the walls—to save your father, who clearly seems to not be worth saving if he so openly defies the truth.”
Tah sucked in her lips. Oh, how little he knew of all that she wished she could do… “Yes, I do so for my mother and her safety.”
He blew a raspberry, spitting at his feet. “For whom you perform your acts of treason does not matter—you are disobeying Him! Now turn away!” He pointed at the huddled siblings. The men lifted their weapons. “I will command you once more: leave this holy battlefield, filthy creature. God is at the works, and you will not taint Him.”
Tah couldn’t believe it, pulling Toboé closer. “B-but sir…”
He lifted his robes, revealing a curved sword latched at the hip. “Do I have to repeat myself?”
“Tah,” Toboé sniffled. “Just do what he says…”
“Joshua! What are you thinking?!”
The man speaking for the army stiffened, looking over his shoulder with teeth clenched.
Tah lost her breath, her mouth wide as a woman confidently gaited forward. Her skin had never borne one burn from the sun, rather capturing its power; it made her skin a luscious, crisp bronze, but it bleached her hair a white-blonde in contrast. It was pinned up into a large, overflowing bun, and her oddly shaded amber eyes did not look at Tah but Joshua instead. Irritation smothered her lips and wrinkled her flawless skin, her brown robes frilling with a strong breeze that Tah herself could not detect.
“What do you mean, Maeve?” Joshua tensely replied as she stopped alongside him.
“Being a disciple is about saving those damned through bringing them to God,” she harshly reminded him. “The child does not come to speak blasphemy; she only wants to save her father, as should any loyal son or daughter. Do you dare deny her that opportunity? A girl who clearly sees the truth, bringing the gift of God’s giving life to her passing father?”
Joshua tucked his chin into his robes, huffing beneath his breath. “Maeve, the sun is almost directly above; it is nearly the sixth hour. We are about to proceed with the trumpets for the final march. Now is not the time to—”
“Given how long it takes to complete a full march and that we need seven of them, I have plenty of time. Besides, I will escort them to ease your worries. Trust me, they are not spies; they shall only get what is required and then leave—no fraternizing or anything of the sort.”
Tah gasped upon hearing the proposition, stumbling forward in a heap of emotions. “T-thank you, Maeve!” She threw herself into a bow, forcing Toboé to do the same.
Maeve smiled. “Think nothing of it. It is my duty.”
“Maeve,” Joshua stressed tightly. “I will not fight your word, but neither will I fight God’s and wait for you… Be swift. We will take down the walls with or without your presence.”
“Of course. I expected nothing less.”
With a haughty grunt, Joshua turned and went with God’s followers at his heels, leaving the children and courageous woman alone.
Tah remained down, waiting for her heart to burst from her chest. Maeve’s confidence was infectious—she wished that all women could see this amazing woman to get a taste of just what they should have been. Without a flinch, Maeve had stood up for what she believed in; without a shiver, she had immersed herself in a tribe of thousands, knowing perfectly well that she had a place in spite of her sex; without hesitation, she had spoken and spoken justly—even more, she was acknowledged, taken seriously. God was Tah’s Lord and savior, the ultimate role model, but in the flesh, despite how little she knew, Tah already had unwavering respect for the woman who so graciously came to stand beside a stranger in need.
“Rise, child. I do not need such honor; save
that for the Lord.”
“Oh, right!” Tah flew back up into a standing position, Toboé groaning and clutching his head to soothe the whiplash.
“Girls are so weird,” he mumbled.
“But it is part of what makes us special,” Maeve added with a smile. She approached the children and corralled them close with her arms, escorting them away from the soldiers who returned to their battle preparations. “Now, come. I know of a small breach in the walls to get in from, but we must be swift to get what you need and then get out.” She grabbed Toboé’s robe and yanked it down over his head, ignoring his protesting squeal as she moved onto Tah and tightened her headdress as well. “Stay concealed. This is not a generous area by any means.”
“Of course,” Tah said. “Thank you again, Maeve. This means more than you know.”
“I know it does.” Picking up the pace of her bare, shuffling feet, Maeve smirked, pulling on her own hood as they headed for a wide crack at the base of the walls. Her radiant eyes flickered temptingly in the bright light as they closed in on their location—it happened so fast that Tah wasn’t sure if it had even happened or if it was simply a part of the desert’s tricky mirage. But real or not, it was clear to Tah that whoever she entrusted with her task was going to be part of her future.
***
Cracks were racing across Mabel’s bones—sections of her organs were swelling and bursting with a heat that she had never known. For the first time in her life, she was burning up. The fire racing through her body no longer acknowledged who she was nor dared to control itself despite the clear, agonizing pain it brought her. But then again, that was the nature of fire… Destructive. It was just like she remembered Maeve telling her long ago during their only encounter: she existed to destroy, not heal.
And destroy it did, all while Mabel dangled in Eero’s arms, staring at busted ceiling tiles, stripped wires, and the remnants of the Proxez’s pillage. No, she could not say that she was with it, but from what she could tell, they had encountered little trouble getting back to the Encryption base—a run-in with a few Bots here and there, but like the undertow, the Encryption’s infiltration of the mainland sucked the enemy away from low-priority targets and sent them rushing toward the larger mass of threats, which thankfully left the trio in the clear.
Sparks of electricity were still spouting through the ruptured electrical system, drawing energy from the last drops of plasma in the power chambers. Their light rain showered above Eero, who too rarely glanced down at her—merely a flash of the eye to make sure Mabel was breathing, and that was all.
It stung to extents unprecedented. She knew that she had been harsh, but she was trying to get through to him… To dig deeper and see if maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that the real Eero was hiding under the skin. She had no way of knowing besides his lapses in memory and confidence; her only true evidence had been Eero’s one moment of resistance while fighting Satan in Hell, but how was she supposed to know if he was still there after the demon successfully tore back control?
“Justus’ workshop lies at the conclusion of the hallway’s embrace,” Embry announced. “Tis not in my realm of knowledge how much may remain, but with hope, you will discover what you deem necessary for proper reparations.”
“What’s not necessary is how long it takes you to get a point across,” Eero lisped.
She giggled in reply to his insult. “How rude! Differences should be admired, not scorned, blinded demon!”
He glanced back—eyes dark and serious. “Maybe, but imagine how much more efficiently you would run if you just gave it to us straight.”
Embry halted on her tippy toes, stunned by such revelatory information.
The only thing Eero had left to give her was a roll of the eyes. He looked back to the front and continued on down the hallway.
“W-wait!” Embry exclaimed. She regained functionality and pranced up before Eero, facing him with arms extended. “A-alright, you may proceed! But I wish to take Mabel for a moment.”
Mabel tilted her head a fraction of an inch, not sure if she heard right. What could—?
“Whatever.” She was in the air before she knew it, a shocked squeal bursting through her dry, crusty lips as she landed with a plop into Embry’s arms. Even with her sight blurred and struggling to resettle, she could still see Eero walk away into the darkness without ever looking back.
It didn’t matter how much she had dried and withered, a tear still pushed through as her worst fears gradually transformed into a horrifying reality.
“Hush, dear,” Embry told Mabel softly. “Come with me.” On her light feet, Embry twirled through the archway of a room, stopping once she was a few prances in. “Gaze.”
Cooperating was certainly not something Mabel felt like doing, but she did, letting her weak, burning eyes encircle the darkened, destroyed room. It took her aching brain a minute, but then, she clearly recognized where she was, especially when she saw the fragile, lively plants and shattered blue crystal next to Pinion’s torn, demented portal.
Embry turned so that Mabel did not have to waste precious strength, setting Mabel’s sight on a dismembered library. “All of these books… Lovely works… They are all Flye’s. Her ancestors were brave; they salvaged all possible pieces of past and future, so when Flye joined the Encryption, she gratefully relinquished her books for the cause—all but one.”
“H-huh?” Mabel wheezed. Embry brought her closer to the ransacked shelves. “Doctor Faustus? Paradise Lost? I haven’t… Ever heard of these…”
“Correct: they were born into Eero’s time, years beyond you. When the future morphed—twisted and fell—everything comprised within it was condemned to destruction as well. Flye’s far distant ancestor was a monk—one of few with the knowledge and skill to scribe in those times. He was ordered, amongst others, to copy every piece of knowledge from the future that Desmond deemed worthy before the original work disappeared with the vanishing timeline. The monk did just that, but he was deceitful, stowing away many copies for himself to preserve a truth that would otherwise crumble. Eventually, he grew apart from his holy creed, and he had his own children, trusting them to preserve and protect the works. Such is the reason Flye holds so much knowledge of a lost world.”
…This all seemed very out of the blue—interesting but unhelpful. “And…?” Mabel pressed, thinking that she was missing something.
Embry smiled. “Many of you humans see each of you as one-of-a-kind. You can argue such to a point, but in conclusion, you are a mixture of all that once was. Flye, as different as she comes off, continues to harbor her past selves through literature and knowledge. Justus bears so much love within him for his mother that he made me. Your father has influenced you, even your mother, though you don’t remember her, and most certainly Maeve.” She faced the doorway with Mabel. “Eero too.
“A piece of him shall always exist within you, no matter what may happen. It is within others that humans live on, even when names and memories of the past come to a close. You must hold that truth close.”
Mabel released a powerful cough, gasping for air. “So… You’re trying… To tell me that he’s still there?” Another cough.
Embry proceeded to step about the perimeter of the room, taking in everything that she could. “In you, certainly. His body? Of that, I can’t lie and answer something I don’t know… But if he is, know that he may very well be irredeemable.” Looking down, she overturned a torn leaf from a book, leaning over to help Mabel see.
The layout of the page was familiar, but even more recognizable was the art style—one that had been painted to form a creature identical to Eero in every way. “What…?”
“Pinion discarded many pages from the Book of Lore to preserve what she could of Eero. Holding too much knowledge is self-destructive for anyone, and Eero is no exception. Pinion removed the pages that she thought had the potential to trigger Eero’s true form—she did not want a repeat of what happened to Tah in the past.”
&
nbsp; Mabel veered her exhausted neck down to try and read into Eero’s old life, but Embry pulled her away. “Hey…! Why…?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she quickly explained.
“Then why take me here?”
“Two reasons.” Being extremely careful, she lowered Mabel and sat her upright against the wall before stepping back with a large smile. She put her hands to her chest, her fingers excreting light violet petals as she pried open her rib cage.
It was faint—oh-so-terribly faint—but snapped into the brackets where Mabel had once seen syringes was an entity that nearly made Mabel’s heart explode—one that she had forgotten entirely about.
Embry crouched, allowing Mabel’s trembling hand to grasp it. The once white petals were dry and brittle, most black and brown to blend in with the hardened stem, but the very roots of the petals retained their purity, desperately holding on.
The tears resurfaced, Mabel remembering the breathtaking cavern where Eero gave her the rose. She could see the sparks of light and pools of life, feel the uplifting magic that energized the air, but most importantly, she remembered him—Eero—his shy little self with hardly an ounce of muscle or fat then, handing her a rose with a hand so shaky that it should have fallen off.
“He gave it to me… To protect me…” Mabel breathed softly, finally finding a reason to smile. “It saved my life.”
“Hm… I don’t think that’s its only purpose.”
Confused, Mabel looked back at Embry, clutching the rose tight. “What?”
“It makes sense that he would not mention it,” the robot began with an entrancing smile, “but King de Vaux himself enchanted that flower. It does have protective properties, but most importantly, it is a symbol of love from the giver to the receiver. So long as there is color, life, love from one to the other has not died.”