Agate- Then and Now

by M. D. Grimm

  “NO!”

  The blade sliced deeply into Aishe’s back, right across his spine. His scream tried to shatter my eardrums even as it shattered my heart. He collapsed in agony on the ground as she tossed the sword away and sneered.

  “Let the games begin.” She vanished.

  I was at Aishe’s side in an instant, before the other dialen could come out of hiding. He writhed on the ground, his sobs and moans causing my hands to tremble.

  “Oh, baby. Aishe, my love.” I didn’t know what I said. I was too stricken by what I’d just seen. My mind saw fit to replay that moment again and again. I still had my night vision, and even as the rest of the tribe descended upon us, and their shouts and calls echoed through the forest, I pushed aside his tunic to see the damage done.

  “Morgorth,” Aishe whimpered. His fingers dug into the grass, the dirt, his body shaking from the shock and the pain. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry....” He just kept saying that.

  “Shhh,” I murmured. “You’re going to be all right. It’s going to be all right.”

  Panic and dread and empathy for his pain spiked through me. I slipped an arm under his neck, across his chest, to his side, so I could pull him closer, into my lap. His hands snapped around my arm, his face buried in the bend of my elbow. I pushed the tunic aside to see the blood pour out of him. I could see bone. That bitch had nearly sliced his fucking spine.

  “Aishe!”

  Nunya landed on her knees right in front of us while the rest of the dialen crowded around. Breyln stood behind his wife, his eyes stricken, terrified. Fray held Lucia who was crying openly with Amyla by his side, gripping his arm. Fray looked like he would faint while Wyn and Eulun stood to my left; Wyn looked murderous, Eulun looked dazed.

  “She nearly cut through his spine,” I said, my voice oddly calm. Maybe I was in shock as well?

  “Mae,” Aishe whimpered.

  Nunya stroked her son’s head gently before laying her hands over his wound, her hands soon covered with his blood. As mine were. I lifted my hand, looking at it, but not truly comprehending that I was covered in my mate’s blood.

  “Morgorth.” Nunya’s sharp voice brought me back to the moment. I met her gaze. “Hold him.”

  I was already doing that, but I nodded and slipped my other arm around his waist. He cried silently, his body trembling. I felt him bite the material of my sleeve to keep his sounds of pain silent. He was a warrior at heart, just not in skill. Not yet.

  A yellow light suddenly shone through the night. It blinded me and I looked away as the healing magick Nunya used knit Aishe’s skin back together.

  “It’s quite deep,” she said, her voice strained. “I can’t heal it all with one session. His body couldn’t take it. He could go into shock and die.” There was another reason she didn’t say. Healing magick came from the life energy of the creature using it. If she used too much, she could die. I saw the desire on her face to use as much as she had to for her son, but she knew that wasn’t the way.

  “So what can you do?” I asked, my voice tight.

  “Heal him slowly, with several hours in between. Give the body time to adjust.”

  I began to stroke his hair, trying to comfort him as best as I could. It was pitiful but what else could I do? Wait. There was something I could do for him. I stopped my hand, placing it firmly on the back of his head. With a gentle surge of will, the little bit of healing magick I knew and had competency with came to my mind. I put him into a gentle sleep, one that would counteract his shock, and ease some of his pain. He grew heavier in my arms, limp, his grip on me slipping. The yellow light disappeared and darkness fell again.

  “What did you—?” Nunya said.

  All I said was, “He’s sleeping.”

  She nodded. I tightened my hold on him before I stood, ordering my legs to support me. Despite being skinny and slightly gawky, there was still a lot of Aishe to hold.

  “Give me my son.” Breyln stepped up to me, his arms out.

  I nearly resisted. It was a gut reaction. I shook myself and gently placed Aishe into his father’s arms. Holding him while he was face down was awkward but it was risky to jostle him too much. With his skin recently mended, the wound could easily rip open again if we weren’t careful. Breyln held Aishe like he was something precious. My throat tightened. Eyes only for his youngest son, Breyln stepped past me and the rest of his children followed, then the tribe. I just stood there, staring at my bloody hands. My sleeve was damp from Aishe’s tears and saliva. My legs trembled so badly, if I took a step I knew I’d collapse.

  I hadn’t saved him. I didn’t protect him. I failed him.

  My muscles tightened as my hands clenched into fists. It didn’t matter that now I knew where his scar had come from, the one I noticed when I saw him bathing, on our hunt for Kayl. He told me he’d done something reckless, to prove himself. He was right.

  “Aishe,” I whispered. “I swear upon the Mother and Hunter, that I will get you justice. I will take it out of her hide.”

  Rage, darker and far bloodier than it had ever been before powered my magick, causing it to burn like a blistering fire in my veins. I wanted to kill with it. I wanted the blood on my hands to be Drasyln’s. I wanted to scatter pieces of her around the world. I wanted to flay her skin from her bones, to hear her screams of agony as I did so; to hear the snap of bones as I broke every single one in her body. Even then, I wouldn’t be satisfied. I would keep her alive for days, drawing out her agony, relishing her screams of pain until her voice broke. I’d done such things before—I could surely do them again. I had the motivation and the will, and the dark desire.

  Vengeance set, I turned in the direction the tribe had left in, to see Nunya standing silently, staring at me with sorrowful eyes.

  “There is such darkness inside you,” she whispered.

  I stared back, mute.

  “He needs your focus on him right now, Morgorth. Not on your vengeance.”

  I gave a nod. I walked past her and she followed me. Whether Aishe needed my vengeance for his wound or not, Drasyln was going to get it.

  Let the games begin, indeed.

  Chapter Ten

  “She’s licking her wounds,” I told Breyln. “She was never good at healing magick. Doesn’t have the calm mind for it. She’s stuck using traditional means. That gives us some time to prepare.”

  We’d reached the tribe’s other camping ground without incident. Tents were promptly put up and guards posted in every direction. They gathered the children close and gave them strict rules for safety. I’d put crystals in a large circle around the perimeter of the camp, to warn me if she was close, as well as to subtly influence the minds of travelers. The crystals would persuade strangers away from the camp’s area—the magick so subtle, it was nearly undetectable. I’d taken a cue from Puejuek, the peridot that resided in Happy Valley, the village in my territory.

  Now I stood with the chief inside the tent where Aishe lay, asleep. He’d woken only once during the journey, with a cry of pain. Nunya had given him some strange leaf that took the edge off his pain, and then he’d fallen asleep again from pure exhaustion.

  “Also, she didn’t look so well back there,” I said. “I’d say roughing it in the forest doesn’t agree with her. She was always one who demanded pampering.”

  I stared at Aishe as I spoke. He would have looked relaxed while sleeping if it weren’t for the grayish pallor of his skin, the strain on his young face. He lay on his stomach, one arm hanging off the cot he slept on. A blanket covered him, hiding the lengths of cloth tied around his slim waist. It was a precaution against the skin splitting again. Nunya had given him a bath, washing away all the blood. I’d taken my own bath, not wanting his blood on me any longer. But I still felt it, smelled it, like a phantom nightmare.

  “I went back to where we were attacked,” I said softly, “and burned his blood. Drasyln can’t use it against him.”

  Breyln finally removed his gaze from his son and looked at
me. I glanced at him and his eyes, full of exhaustion and worry, softened a little. “Thank you.”

  I nodded. “I owed you. And him.” I looked back at Aishe. “I won’t fail again.”

  “Fail?”

  “He was hurt because I wasn’t quick enough.” My hand clenched into a fist. “That won’t happen again. I swear.”

  Before he could say another word, I left the tent. There was another reason I’d gone back to that place. I stopped and pulled out a small vial from my pouch. I held it up and the sun glinted off the glass. Several leaves and grass were in the vial, covered with Drasyln’s blood. Aishe had made her bleed. His sacrifice would not be vain. I wanted to use it to cast a spell on her, despite the consequences. If a mage used hair or blood of another mage for an attack spell, then that spell would return on the caster threefold. And the spells I had in mind weren’t something I wanted to experience three times as hard. Mages had natural aura shields that protected us from such attacks. Hair and blood were used for tracking and that was allowed without consequences. Other creatures didn’t have such magickal auras, and that was why I’d burned any trace of Aishe’s blood or hair on that battlefield. I was sure the Mother had made such a rule to prevent we mages from killing ourselves off. We all had tempers and pride aplenty, and when wounded we came out swinging. There were many rules that applied to keep mages from warring, and not all were created by the Mother. She’d taken precautions when creating her youngest children.

  There was a loophole to that threefold rule, however. Skin to skin contact. If I got my hands on her, I could bypass her aura and cause her such pain it would rival my previous acts in my earlier years. A slow smile spread across my face as I imagined it. Craved it. I’d enjoy that a lot. I hadn’t tortured anyone in many, many years, but I never truly smothered the desire for it; the desire for complete control over another creature, to hold their life in my hands. It was heady, addicting, and I’d done it well.

  “Morgorth.”

  My smile vanished and I shoved the vial back into my pouch. Turning, I watched Nunya approach me. “Yes?”

  “I think it’s time you tell Breyln and me what you have kept silent about. Especially concerning our son.”

  I took a deep breath and nodded. “If you wish.”

  The three of us soon stood in the chief’s tent. I crossed my arms over my chest and stood tall. I wasn’t going to be intimidated by either of them anymore.

  “The stone Drasyln holds,” I said, “is Atcoatlu, the agate of time.”

  Breyln frowned. “Stone of time? There’s such a thing?”

  “Yes.” I took a breath. “I’m sure both of you have noticed my...attention given to Aishe.”

  Breyln’s eyes narrowed while Nunya nodded.

  “There is a reason for it. I’m not of this time.” Might as well just spill it. “I’m from the future.” It sounded bizarre and I saw the surprise in their eyes. They exchanged a look.

  “You are not of this time?” Nunya repeated softly.

  “No. A younger me is alive somewhere, out there,” which was freaky to think about, “but as I am now, I should be in a different time.”

  “And you know Aishe in your time?” Breyln asked.

  I swallowed hard. Whether I told myself not to be intimidated or not, I still was. A little. What would they say when I told them? “He is my mate.”

  Breyln’s eyes widened. Nunya looked pensive.

  “Is not time travel forbidden?” Nunya asked.

  “Yes, it is. Strictly forbidden. But Drasyln used the stone to come to this time, and I caught a ride with her. I tried to stop her but I wasn’t fast enough.”

  That seemed to be a failing of mine lately: not being fast enough. But the Mother had already written this, hadn’t she? I was supposed to be here. This all had a purpose. I waited for the next question. Breyln seemed to struggle harder with the realization that I was his son’s mate than Nunya. Her focus was on the time travel.

  “But what the Mother has written....” Nunya considered me. “You’re supposed to be here, aren’t you? You’re supposed to meet Aishe, here, now?”

  I shrugged. “I can only assume so. Certain events have happened that makes me think this is all a grand plan by the Mother. He and I, well, we’re supposed to be together. Our destinies are intertwined, in a way not even I could have guessed.”

  “Are you good to him?” Breyln asked curtly.

  I blinked. Now how was I to answer that without sounding arrogant? So I answered as honestly as I could. “I like to think I am. But with someone like him,” I shook my head, “whatever I do will never be good enough. He really is special.”

  Nunya smiled kindly at me and I could see Breyln had yet to make his mind up about me and his son.

  “He’s a warrior, you know,” I said, directly to him. “He becomes one of the best.”

  The chief’s eyes widened and he blinked in shock. He opened his mouth, I knew to interrogate me, but Nunya placed a hand on his arm. “No, my love. We cannot know more about the future than we do. It could upset things.” She looked at me. “But thank you, Morgorth. Your words have given us a great gift.”

  I nodded.

  “Chief!” a voice said from outside.

  “Enter.”

  A young dialen female walked in. I recognized her as one of the dialen who had assisted Nunya in bathing Aishe. “Aishe is awake. He’s asking for you.”

  ***

  I waited outside. It was hard. I heard voices inside the tent: Nunya’s melody, Breyln’s deep tones, Aishe’s small one.

  The desire to tell Breyln about the future and Kayl was unbelievably intense. I wanted to take Rambujek and toss it down a volcano. I wanted to spare Aishe the pain and grief he would feel in the future. I shook my head. Don’t think such things. Don’t consider them. To unwrite what the Mother had written would have devastating consequences. For all I knew, it could shake the very foundations of our world. The Mother created everything, this universe, this world, me. She’d created them with her love, her words. If her word proved false, if it was erased, then what would happen?

  Changing the course of history was far more dangerous than losing Aishe as a lover. For all I knew, to prevent Kayl from murdering Aishe’s tribe, Aishe might be killed himself. They could all be killed, just by a different mage, a more powerful one, one I couldn’t stop. There were so many unknown possibilities. I shuddered to think of what mayhem could be caused if I changed even one thing in the past.

  Someone suddenly nudged me roughly in the shoulder, causing me to stumble forward. I scowled darkly at the female dialen. She stumbled as well, her face flushing with embarrassment. “Please pardon me, I’m so sorry. Off in my own head, it would seem.”

  “Perhaps you should stay in this world,” I said.

  She wasn’t very attractive, but she wasn’t ugly. I guess I would call her average, normal, one easily looked over. She had a quiver and bow, and was dressed as a hunter. There were too many dialen faces to distinguish or recognize each one.

  “You’re right, of course. Again, I’m sorry,” she said, humbled and walking backward, her head bowed respectfully. Then she strode off. I watched her go, feeling something prick at the back of my mind. Something...odd. Nunya walked out of the tent, and I promptly forgot about the klutz.

  “May I see him?” I asked.

  “He doesn’t want to see you.”

  My heart contracted and my stomach tightened. “Oh. Right.”

  Nunya smiled and touched my arm. “But you should see him. He’s embarrassed and ashamed of his actions. He needs to see you.”

  Breyln walked out a moment later, his face tight. He gave me one nod before striding away. Aishe’s siblings were next to see their brother. Nunya led them in. Amyla was crying. None of them looked at me as they entered. I couldn’t resent them for blaming me since I blamed myself. I got some more looks from many of the dialen around. They probably wondered why I hadn’t been quick enough to save one of their children
, especially when I’d shown such battle prowess before. Well, Drasyln, the bitch, had been right about one thing: Aishe was my weakness.

  The children eventually left the tent. But Amyla stomped up to me, her face tight, her eyes shining. “Why did you not protect him?” she said.

  My throat closed. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  Her mouth trembled. “You’re the reason he’s hurt!”

  “Amyla!” Eulun gripped her hand and pulled her back. “Don’t. It’s not his fault. Aishe did a reckless thing and he deserved what he got.”

  My arm lashed out before I could stop myself. I gripped Eulun’s collar and lifted him off the ground, my magick flashing near the surface, snaking through my veins. I could see my own glowing self in Eulun’s wide eyes.

  “You think he deserved that? You think your brother deserved to nearly die? To nearly be paralyzed?” I shook him slightly. He gritted his teeth, hanging on to my arm.

  “Let him go,” Wyn said, stepping closer.

  I scowled at him. His eyes were hard but his calm demeanor helped get through my own rage.

  “Please, let him go. Aishe wouldn’t want this.”

  He was right about that. I glared at Eulun before I shoved him from me. He stumbled and fell, looking winded, dazed. Fray had his arms around Amyla and they both looked at me with fear.

  “Watch yourself, Eulun,” I said softly, my tone icy. “Family is all you have, and family is the only ones who will watch your back. Remember that.”

  Knowing what the future brought, I was harder on Eulun than I probably should have been. I didn’t know the details that brought him voluntarily, or not, to betray his tribe. At that point, though, I didn’t care. His words pissed me off. I then realized the rest of the tribe stared at us. I stood straighter before I turned and shoved aside the tent flap. I wanted to see Aishe. Nunya finished another healing session as I stepped in. Aishe looked at me briefly before turning his head away.

  “How’s the healing progressing?” I asked.