Stavius

by Gregory Cholmondeley

  I had to admit that it seemed entirely possible after today’s classes.

  “There’s no way to tell,” said Malik. “They might be agents, but it is more likely that the Mearth agents are the ones who developed the curriculum, or ran the scientific study, or maybe even the District Superintendent of Curriculum. The point is that there is no way to tell and we all might end up in a situation far worse than a coma if we say something and they find out about Mark.”

  That shut us up. We all knew Malik was right and I now honestly believe Mr. Cranston is an evil Mearth agent.

  “Team Stavius needs to add math and science skills to Mark’s training since he’s not going to get it at school. And we need to find a way to get Jarius involved as well,” concluded Malik.

  I started to feel a little better. All I had to do was warn the girls on Mearth and get somewhere safe. I had three friends willing to help, and we had the beginning of a plan. I wished the guys could come to Mearth with me. I truly believed at that moment that the four of us could not only rescue the girls but that we could probably fulfill the prophecy too.

  Chapter 8

  Separation

  AUGUST 19, MEARTH

  Stavius was just about to set his soup down on the table when Mark returned. The sudden transition caused him to stumble and spill the entire bowl on his lap. The rest of the village thought this was hysterical.

  “Way to go, Stavius!”

  “Nice move, Stavius!”

  “That’s the guy who’s going to save us all? We’re doomed!”

  Stavius stood up and left in the middle of all the laughing and jeering. Everyone thought he was a klutz and scurrying off to clean up, but neither answer was correct. His accident was due to the sudden, unexpected rush of new memories from Mark and his departure was driven by a need to be alone.

  Rejoining with Mark was always an odd experience for Stavius. Mark would wake up, live his life, and begin dreaming right where he left off when he fell asleep. Stavius didn’t have those gaps. One moment everything was reasonable, and the next his mind was filled with a day, a week, or a month of memories from Earth. A third of the time this occurred while he was sleeping and, much like Mark, he woke up with new memories. Most of the rest of the time it struck when he wasn’t doing anything critical and, while it was jarring, it didn’t cause an issue. Once in a while, though, this sudden, unexpected rush of memories hit at a critical moment, and the momentary distraction was disastrous. That was why he spilled his soup today.

  The reason he quickly left the table was that he was furious with Mark.

  We all sometimes talk to ourselves and are occasionally mad at ourselves, but this was like nothing Stavius had ever felt. He’d sometimes been angry with Mark when they were both separate entities in his head but they were one now, and it was unfathomable that he could be so surprised and mad at himself.

  “What in Janus’ destruction is wrong with you, Mark?” he shouted to himself once he was far from the village. I cannot believe you would think that it’s OK if I die over here but that you instantly want to bail when you realize you could get hurt too!”

  “I’m sorry man,” he said back to himself, thinking as Mark. “I’m scared.”

  “I get that, I really do,” he yelled again, “but I can’t believe you’d willingly leave me hanging like that!”

  “I know. I didn’t think. I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry doesn’t cut it, Mark! This is true visitor privilege. It’s all just a dream or a game to you, and you’re more than willing to risk my life going on a quest that has killed hundreds of Mearthlings for thousands of years, but you want out when you realize you could get hurt. Thanks a lot. I thought you were a friend. I thought you cared. I thought you were someone I could trust.”

  Stavius knew that Mark understood and that Mark felt terrible because, well, Mark was a part of Stavius and Stavius understood and felt terrible. But Stavius wasn’t done being mad at Mark and couldn’t stop his tirade, even though he knew he should.

  “The risk of us failing is high, but it is a certainty if we aren’t merged. That means that I will die if you bail. And it probably means that my entire world dies. But, by all means, run away and hide. Just go and leave us all to perish. It’s not your problem after all. Our entire world and all of us living in it is just another fun dream for you.”

  Stavius’ Mark side had been quiet during his final tantrum, and it wasn’t until Stavius took a breath that he realized Mark wasn’t just quiet, he was gone. Not only were they no longer merged - Mark was no longer in his head at all. He looked around and realized he couldn’t see any illusions, no matter how hard he tried to turn on his illusion vision.

  “Sons of Mars,” he cried. “What have I done?”

  Staven saw Mr. Urtish leaving the table and raced over to ask him for help.

  “Mr. Urtish! Mr. Urtish! You have to help me. This is an emergency!” he yelled as he ran toward him.

  “Well Mr. Stavius I would love to assist, but I have a bit of an emergency myself,” Urtish said. “As you might notice, I’m heading towards the latrine at a rather brisk pace.”

  “But he’s gone, Mr. Urtish. Mark is gone!”

  “Nonsense, Stavius,” Urtish sighed, without slowing his pace. “Your visitor may awaken and return to his world, but fully-merged hosts will never be separate from their visitors until their next birthday.”

  “No, you don’t understand. Mark is completely gone. We aren’t joined anymore, and I don’t feel his presence at all!” insisted Staven. “You’ve got to help me. I don’t think he’s coming back.”

  Urtish paused and turned to Stavius after one last longing glance at the toilets to say, “OK, son. Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened? But make it fast.”

  “Well, he came back during lunch, which is why I spilled the soup and then we had a fight. I remembered some of his thoughts from his time on Earth and became angry. I mean I was really livid, and I yelled at him. I took it further than I should and said some things I shouldn’t, and when I was done, he was gone. He’s not here at all, and I can’t get him back.”

  “I’m sorry, Stavius, but that just isn’t possible,” Mr. Urtish assured him.

  “Urtish, you know what it feels like to be joined and what it feels like when you’re not,” Staven shouted. “You can always sense your visitor, even when he’s quiet in the background. I’m telling you. Mark is not here! I’m no longer Stavius. I’m Staven.”

  Urtish saw the panicked look in Staven’s eyes and knew he was telling the truth.

  “Keep trying, Staven. You have to rejoin. Our world depends on it! Keep trying! I’ll be back in a minute.” Then Urtish trotted towards the latrines, using a very awkward stride.

  “I’ll try,” Staven said to himself, “but I don’t think I’ll see Mark again unless he wants to come back. And that’s pretty unlikely, given what he learned on Earth and what I said to him here.”

  AUGUST 20, EARTH

  I woke up and knew something was wrong. I’d had the Mearth dream again, but it had abruptly ended during my argument with Stavius. I quickly sent a group text to the guys that said: “MEARTH EMERGENCY GET TO BUS STOP EARLY.”

  I got ready in record time, wolfed down my breakfast, and raced to the bus stop. I was, of course, the first one there and paced back and forth in a panic for several minutes until I saw Tyler jogging down the street. A minute later I saw Ethan running after him, and the three of us impatiently waited for Malik.

  I decided that Malik wasn’t going to make it in time and couldn’t wait any longer to share my story with the guys.

  “I think I broke the connection with Mearth,” I said. “I had the dream last night, but Staven and I had a big fight and then it just suddenly ended.”

  “What do you mean it ended?” asked Ethan. “Did you wake up?”

  “No, I had another, normal dream. You know, the kind that makes sense while you’re dreaming it but not so much when you remember it after you w
ake up.”

  They were staring at me, waiting for more details, so I continued. “I dreamt I was flying and landed in a gigantic bowl of cereal. Then a swarm of butterflies attacked me, and I fought them off with a magic marker. You know, a typical dream.”

  “Dude, you have some messed up dreams,” laughed Tyler. “But why do you think your connection with Mearth ended?”

  “Because I’ve never had a Mearth dream end until I woke up,” I replied. “Plus, I feel different. It’s hard to explain.”

  “Explain what?” asked Malik, who had just arrived.

  I then retold my story and added that my argument with Staven was about me wanting to abandon the quest.

  Malik stared at me for a long time before saying, “Well, he’s right, you know. I mean, I don’t know what you should do. It sounds like you got your wish and are safely out. The problem is that Staven and the Mearth girls are pretty much dead if you bail and we’re probably going to read about three more unexplained comas here on Earth too.

  “You know that the decent thing to do is to go back and not only warn the girls but also to try to fulfill the prophecy. But, dude, you’re thirteen! You’re not supposed to be going to war with a high chance of not surviving. I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t, in all honesty, know what I’d do. I really don’t.”

  I didn’t have an answer either and brooded on the subject the entire day. I finally made my decision sometime between dinner and brushing my teeth. I have felt more-fully alive, both here and in my dreams, since going to Mearth. Stavius is a part of me, and I can’t abandon him any more than I could leave my head. I have to go back, not only to warn the girls but to find a way to fulfill the prophecy. There wasn’t any decision to be made. Like it or not, I know I have to do this.

  AUGUST 22, MEARTH

  The entire village had been working with Staven for the past two days. At first, they performed test after test until everyone was convinced that Mark was no longer present. Then they began working on trying to bring Staven’s visitor back. Urtish researched all the old records but couldn’t find anything like this ever reported. Ms. Birquel tried all kinds of magical spells and incantations to no avail. Bor tried physically pushing Staven, hoping that straining him to the point of exhaustion would bring Mark back. Craan wanted to smack the boy in the head a few times, but Staven did not agree to this and kept a close eye on the big bully. Even Janus’ attempts to coax him back with magic produced no results.

  Staven was sitting cross-legged meditating with Mayre when Mark finally returned. He knew that her meditation had nothing to do with it, but there was no way to convince her. He opened his eyes and said, “He’s back!” Then he laughed and added, “And now he knows how I feel when I suddenly get a rush of new memories.”

  People were cheering and hugging Stavius. Mayre was dancing in circles, graciously curtseying and accepting the gratitude of everyone for her successful meditation, even though she was not currently conjoined. Urtish suggested that they have a celebratory feast and another cheer went up.

  But that feast never happened because that was when the centaur arrived.

  Someone saw the poor creature appear on the road leading into the valley, high on the hill and screamed. The centaur was so weak that he could barely walk and collapsed on the path after a few more steps. They grabbed a bucket of water, some apples, and blankets and ran to where he had fallen. He lifted his head, took a few sips of water and said, “The heroes have been captured and will be executed at Luna Fest,” before collapsing again.

  The villagers somehow managed to load the large creature onto a cart and bring him to the island, where he would be nursed back to health. Urtish explained to Stavius that all magical creatures required magical energy to live and that it wasn’t uniform on Mearth. Magical power seemed to pool in certain areas like this valley and around Septumcolis, where the talismans are located. Vast regions, nearly devoid of this energy, separate these pools and the centaur had made the week-long journey from Septumcolis in just three days. He was both physically exhausted and magically drained. Urtish assured Stavius that the creature should be fully recovered after a day or two of rest, food, and magical immersion.

  The trainers argued around the long table in the village square until late into the night. Stavius needed to immediately depart if he was going to have any chance of freeing the girls and fulfilling the prophecy. A desperate centaur pushing himself nearly to death might make the trip in three days, but it would take over a week for a hero to get there on foot. He’d be further slowed by needing to carry enough supplies to survive for a week in a dangerous region with no magic, and Luna Fest was celebrated during the first full moon after the fall equinox, which was only a few weeks away. In the end, they agreed that there wasn’t enough time for Stavius to finish his training, travel to Septumcolis, come up with a rescue plan, and free the girls before their execution. This attempt at fulfilling the prophecy was over.

  “No!” shouted Stavius as he stood up. He had been sitting by himself at the heroes’ table and had not even been allowed to be a part of the discussion. “This is just like the first day I was here when you decided not to train me. I was brought here to fulfill the prophecy, and I am going to Septumcolis to follow my destiny.”

  “No, this is not like your first day,” said Bor. “We have trained you, and you have learned more than any of us expected, but you aren’t ready for this. Your destiny won’t be to fulfill the prophecy if you leave now. It will be to die. I’m sorry to disappoint you, kid, but I like and respect you too much to let you do that. Besides, you’ll make a great fighting instructor for future generations of hero-trainees.”

  “Thanks, Bor,” said Stavius with surprise. “That’s, um, a nice offer and I’d like to take it up when I get back, but I’m still going. I know that some of you are heroes who failed at your attempts to get the talismans, but all of you tried. What kind of role model would I be as a fight trainer if I bailed out and didn’t even go?”

  “You’d be a living one,” said Urtish. “Even you know you aren’t ready. Your abbreviated training isn’t complete, and you can’t even do magic as well as a toddler. Face it, Stavius. You don’t stand a chance.

  “Believe in fate if you don’t like using logic. Staven’s side of you knows that everyone on Mearth believes in fate and destiny. Everyone here has dedicated their lives to work towards fulfilling a prophecy that has been echoing throughout history for thousands of years. We are confident that we will succeed someday, but it’s not going to be today.

  “The universe is telling you not to go, Stavius. It created you without the magical skills you need to succeed. It sent you here too late to join the others. It tried to stop you by splitting you and your visitor apart, which has never happened in recorded history. And now it has made your task impossible. Take the hint, Mr. Stavius. You aren’t supposed to go.”

  Stavius realized that Urtish was probably right. This was the excuse Mark needed. He had to admit that he was relieved knowing that Staven wasn’t going to die and that Mark wasn’t going into a coma. Mark would come back every few years when they were both in their primes, and they would have a good life. You got your wish, buddy, he thought. We’re safe, and everyone’s cool with it.

  Stavius looked at the faces of the people who had been helping him for all these weeks. They had become his friends, and he realized that they genuinely cared about him. Well, perhaps not all of them. He still neither liked nor trusted Craan. They all knew that a hero’s chances were slim, to begin with, but they couldn’t bring themselves to send a friend to his death. They also listened to the universe and were far better than Stavius at interpreting its messages.

  “Thank you, everyone,” he said as he felt his eyes dampen with tears. “You have taught me so much, and I have truly become a different person since I’ve been with you.”

  Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and a small laugh rolled around the table.

  “But I’m leaving in the
morning, with or without your help.”

  There was a gasp from the trainers.

  Stavius said, “I can’t safely rest here and let my fellow heroes die. I might not be able to help them, but I have to try. I swear I will turn around and come back if it is hopeless, but I’m starting to believe in fate as well. The gods wouldn’t have put me on this path with all these obstacles if I was only destined to be a trainer. I’m leaving tomorrow and would appreciate some help packing.”

  Then, without another word, Stavius turned and left the village square. He needed to go somewhere quiet. He needed to be alone. He needed to think about what he had just done.

  Stavius had been sitting in the center of the dark tournament field for twenty minutes when he heard someone approach. Janus walked up to him and began to clap and say, “Brilliant speech, Stavius. It almost made me cry and feel proud to be the Key. But they are right. You aren’t ready, and you’re going to die.”

  “Oh, thank you so much for your words of encouragement, Janus,” Stavius replied with bitterness. He considered adding Janus alongside Craan on his list of people he didn’t like.

  “Listen, I’m doing this to protect you. I can’t let you go out there without knowing how to use your magic,” said Janus as he waved his arm and the grass on the field began glowing with a soft green light.

  “Where have you been for the past several weeks, Janus?” asked Stavius as he stood up. “I can’t use my magic because I don’t have any magic to use.”

  “I’ve been hanging out watching you for the past few weeks, my friend,” said Janus before adding, “Eeeww, that sounds creepy. What I mean is that I’ve been watching you struggle to try to do Ms. Birquel’s cheesy magic tricks and you’re right. You really stink.”

  “Thank you so very much for pointing out the obvious, Janus,” groaned Stavius. “Do you have a point?”

  “Yes, I do,” answered Janus with an unnerving chuckle. “You might not be able to perform her tricks, but you do try hard.” He had walked over to a small sand pit on the side of the field and was contemplating it for some reason.