by Zy Rykoa
‘Why didn’t we see them coming?’ yelled Alkon, hitting the desk in such fury that most of the pens and other items on top fell onto the floor. ‘Is our radar worthless?’
‘It appears so, General,’ said Liet. ‘But what I find of more interest is how they knew we were here.’
Alkon seemed too enraged to hear him. ‘We can expect more attacks! Make sure all positions are manned at all times. I will not have any more deaths under my command. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, General, it is how it should have always been.’
‘My mind flies faster than any fighter right now, my friend, please do not insult me. The High Council will not be pleased with this. It is the first blemish on my record, my first failure!’
‘They will be lenient. You still have the chance to prove yourself at Waikor. This may even work to our advantage.’
Alkon calmed, taking his seat and looking into nothingness, his mind’s eye becoming his only vision. ‘Advantage…?’
‘Indeed. We are now able to call for reinforcements. Our claim is simply that more than half our force was killed in a freak attack. No general could have suspected such a thing in these circumstances.’
Alkon’s eyes jerked upward at Liet. ‘Do you not know how many men have died? Do you not realise the amount of loss we have suffered? You are a heartless man, Lieutenant. Soldiers are not replaceable machines! This is not our advantage!’
Liet remained without expression, waiting, and Alkon’s features soon lost their hardness.
‘I apologise, my friend, I am still a little shaken. You are right … you mean not that we are to simply replace them, but that we must do what we must to ensure victory. The force given to us was too small. I will call for reinforcements.’
‘Ask for ten thousand,’ said Liet.
‘Ten thousand! The Alliance cannot afford to give us ten thousand more men!’
‘The war with the island of Cralun has been won. There is a force awaiting deployment.’
‘How can you know this?’ asked Alkon.
‘My sources are to remain private, General. Please accept my apology, but I cannot jeopardise their lives.’
Alkon nodded as he raised his elbow onto the armrest and put his head against his fingers. ‘Very well. You make the call. I will take no responsibility for the High Council’s wrath when they refuse.’
Liet bowed, and Alkon sat in silence, deep in thought.
‘General, there is still the matter of how they knew our location,’ said Liet.
‘What?’
‘How did the enemy know our position?’
‘I do not know. A lucky guess?’ asked Alkon, making random circles in the air with his hand. ‘Scouting crafts? I cannot say. Scouting crafts would not have brought such weaponry, unless…’
‘What is it, General?’
‘I have only just now seen Kobin. He seemed more interested in degrading our men than his own safety.’
‘You think him a traitor?’ asked Liet.
‘He betrayed his people, why would he not betray us?’
Liet was thoughtful. ‘Perhaps the question is why he would betray his people, only to betray us a day later.’
After a moment’s contemplation, Alkon gave a final wave of his hand. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘There is no sense in it, but I still do not trust him. Have him put under continual surveillance. I want to know his every move.’
‘Yes, General.’
‘You may go, Lieutenant.’
Liet bowed and exited. As the door closed behind him, Alkon sat forward and leaned on the desk, burying his face in his hands where he remained for the rest of the night, dreading the coming weeks and the next report he would give to the High Council.
Chapter Eleven
The journey is long only until seen from the end.
January 17, 997 R.E.
Jaden’s heart sank as he watched the last of the blue-flamed jets disappear over the mountains, his hopes of the force being sent by his father vanishing with it. It had flown east, the opposite direction to the way his father would have gone. They must have been of the Resistance, too far from Callibra to send any troops by land.
The jets had brought him some peace with their attack, at least. The Alliance had been punished for their crimes. But now he realised no punishment would ever seem enough in his eyes. They had taken everything from him. All that he had left now was the desire to fight, to wage war against the Alliance until his own death.
He took a final look back over his shoulder at what was once his home, and then made his way down the hill and up toward the mountain. He took the path slowly, in no hurry to get where he was going. The other survivors had been captured. There was nothing left for him here anymore. He could only have managed a little damage without help, not nearly enough for the revenge for which he had yearned. It seemed there was only one option remaining; make his way to Corsec and join the fight against the Alliance. With their military might, he could have a chance at the victory he could not achieve alone. The journey would be long, but he had no other choice.
Like him, his father had failed in his mission, too.
After two hours, he reached the cave high on the mountain, but he would not stay. He had come this way only so that he could say goodbye to the last remaining piece of his childhood. Lowering his eyes from staring into the darkness, he turned and walked around the mountainside and then made it to the top. Here he sat in contemplation, looking toward the horizon that the jets would have disappeared over. There lay his destiny, far beyond where his eyes could see. To his right, he could see the coastline. To his left, he could see vast mountain ranges. Each seemed as devoid of human life as the other. It did not matter which route he took, they would both lead him to where he needed to be most—away from this place, away from the memories—but only through the mountains could he find the Resistance.
In the faint light of the rings peering through the clouds, he began to plot his path. There was dense wilderness, entire forests standing in his path. If he did not take care, he would get lost easily. The first destination point was a clearing in which a large rock protruded just over the trees. He decided he could perhaps climb it when he got there and use it to better see the way he needed to go. After that, there was nothing more than the thicket of green he would have to push his way through to get to the mountains ahead, to the two highest peaks he could see straight ahead of the clearing.
The two highest peaks…
If he followed the path directly toward the two highest peaks and tracked the stream north, he would reach a mountain. That was where his grandfather had wanted him to go. Vennoss had said he would be safe there.
Jaden thought hard for a moment. He was not sure if safety was what he wanted anymore. He had felt a burn inside him ever since the attack, an energy that needed to be released somehow, by fighting—seeking revenge against the Alliance. But he didn’t like to disobey his grandfather's advice, and now that all were gone, it was the last bit of direction he had left. He would not stay where his grandfather had told him to go, nor would he explore too far for the cure to his illness. He would go only so that he had not disobeyed his grandfather, and then he would leave.
Hours passed. Jaden remained seated on the mountainside until first light before laying the rifle down next to him and then taking off the backpack. He needed to shed any excess weight before he went any further. Anything that he couldn’t use on the way he would discard. Opening the top, he found that the grenades he had taken were no longer there. He had thought he had felt them roll out when the soldier had hit him, but at the time he hadn’t been sure. Underneath were the rolls and clips of ammunition and various tools he didn’t recognise. He tossed most of these aside, keeping only some ammunition for the rifle. He would need a means of defence for his travels.
In the side compartment was what he was hoping for. Folded neatly inside was a soldier’s uniform—clean, dry clothing to replace his torn, wet and blackened Callibri
an garments. He quickly changed into it, leaving the jacket aside, keeping only the black undershirt and the dark green trousers, which he had to roll up around his ankles. The uniform appeared to be for one of the smaller soldiers of the Alliance, but it still seemed big on Jaden.
He checked through the last compartments, finding a flask of water and some rations of dried meat. He drank as much as he could, then put the flask down and sat back as he chewed on the dried meat. The spices burnt his tongue and throat, but the flavour was not unpleasant. It was the first time he had eaten anything since the attack.
He took another drink of water to cool the burning and then looked toward the shoreline. He could hear a hum in the distance. Something was behind the trees. He began to edge forward to take cover behind a rock, unsure what could be out here. Whatever it was, it could not have been friendly. Seconds passed, but still there was no sign of anything. Jaden held his breath, as if to wait for it to make the first move.
Suddenly he saw it, a black helicopter rising into the air but keeping low. Patrols, he thought, searching for him, to take him prisoner or even kill him. He had to run, to find a better place of cover. He had gotten up but stopped as he turned to see the helicopter was travelling eastward. It stayed low the entire way, until it disappeared from sight on the horizon, leaving Jaden confused.
Where was it going?
He didn’t want to stay to find out when it returned. Putting what he needed into the backpack, the rations, water flask, ammunition and his old clothes, he readied to leave. A light breeze traced over his cheeks, whispering what almost sounded like words to him. He remained still for a moment, listening to the strange voice, as if somehow able to understand it. Realising he could not, he began his way down the steep, rocky slope, trying to think as little as possible about the attack and the patrolling helicopter along the way.
He felt drained of energy, sick from the emotion that had tormented him over the past days. He had never felt so much hate, so much anger or so much grief before, and now it seemed he had no more tears to cry.
He travelled most of the day at a leisurely pace, changing the position of the rifle several times along the way so that it did not seem so heavy. The cloud cover kept him cool as he went, but he stopped at any stream or waterhole that he came across, splashing water onto his weary eyes and refilling the flask. He reached his first destination point several hours after nightfall. He had not wished to risk losing direction by resting for the night, and using what little moon and ring light there was, he had managed to navigate through the remaining forest. The clearing was great in size, being almost one hundred yards in length, with the large rock at the opposite end slanting to the left, as if it had been pushed over by some divine force but defiantly fell no further.
To Jaden’s right, there was a stream gently trickling down from the rock, seeming like glistening sapphires rolling over the earth as it made its way into the forest. He walked to it over the many small stones and knelt down on the pebbled beds to refill his flask, then scooped up some water to drink and splash over himself with his hand. His thirst satisfied, he stood and walked along the stream to the rock. It was too dark to see the way to the two highest peaks this night, and his body ached from the distance he had travelled already. He would climb it in the morning, he thought, but for now, he would rest, if he could find a place of comfort.
Circling the rock, he found his way to where it slanted above ground, creating an open cave-like area. He threw the backpack and rifle against one of the smooth white and gray ledges and then hopped up onto it, lying back and using the backpack as a headrest. From here, he was able to stare back to where he had entered the clearing, thinking of how far he had come. He had never been so far from his home before. He had never seen what was outside of the valley. Under different circumstances, he may have been able to take solace in the beauty, but in this moment, it meant nothing to him. He was content simply to be able to lie down and close his eyes, forgetting that anything else existed, and drift into a deep sleep.
* * *
Abruptly, Jaden sat up straight. He was ready to run, his eyes searching for anything near. He had felt something, something close … something alien. It was sharp, almost to the point of inflicting pain. It almost felt like a spear such as there had been at the waterfall in Callibra.
His eyes darted right. He had seen a flicker. They darted left, this time he had felt something move. He stood up and backed away from the rock, trying to keep his eyes focused on everything before him.
Silence.
He remained on edge, but soon relaxed. There was nothing there, not even a creature stirring nearby. He was alone.
He shook his head. His tiredness had allowed his imagination to overcome him, a simple traveller’s error his father had told him about. Often on the road, his father had spoken of times he found himself seeing and feeling things that were not there, just as Jaden was now. It could easily have made a man go crazy if he were not careful. His father had then said to find something else to focus on, something outside of one’s mind—a stone, a scent, a sound, or even the sky. This would stop the mind from wandering to places it shouldn’t.
With a deep breath, Jaden searched for something he could focus on. There was no sound, all creatures were silent, and so he looked at the rings through the clouds. They were beautiful, as always, but he found no comfort in them, feeling strangely small underneath their vast size and height. The stones around his feet had the same effect, but made him feel the opposite, as if he were too big to be standing on this world, leaving him dizzy and slightly nauseated. Quickly he searched for a scent, anything that could take his mind away from whatever was going on, but could find nothing. He paused, standing completely still with only his eyes moving.
Something wasn’t right.
He couldn’t smell anything. This didn’t worry him too much, except that he could no longer hear anything either, even the stream had somehow silenced. He backed away, wishing for nothing more than to leave this place as soon as he could. It felt wrong. It felt evil. It felt … strangely attractive.
He continued to move away, resisting the temptation to walk back toward the large rock. A flicker caught his attention to his left, and then again to his right almost instantly after. This time he was sure he had seen blue flares floating briefly in the air before disappearing less than a second later, like fireflies of another realm visiting only briefly before returning home, or shooting stars that sped across the ground before fading into the atmosphere.
As he stepped out of the clearing, there was a low groaning sound, the first to break the silence, and what little colour there was in the darkness drained from the plants, stream and rocks, leaving them gray but with a blue tinge. Suddenly there was a flash, and he turned away as it knocked him to the ground, causing him to hit his head hard against a fallen tree trunk. His head bounced off and landed heavily onto the ground. The last thing he was able to remember was seeing a gray silhouette glide slowly past him before his vision faded, and he was left in absolute darkness.
Chapter Twelve
One can travel only so far without wonder.
January 18, 997 R.E.
The ashen grasses of Jaden’s dream fell forward, crushed under the gale-force winds ravaging the land. They were stranded—helpless against the storm’s might as their fight for survival was threatened by what should have brought them life. Jaden walked on, trying to find shelter, powerless to do anything for the grasses. Like them, he was alone in this unforgiving place. Even the sunlight had disappeared from this world. The sickening orange glow had gone beyond the dark ocean, replaced by a cold gray that devoured any remaining light there was. The sky bore a giant scar, a great tear through its fabric. It was the source of the cold gray, a jagged strip of luminous white that stretched as far as he could see.
There was only suffering here, no refuge to be found. Everything was dying, and all that he could do was watch it fade before him.
He started t
o panic. He could feel the pressure building in his chest. He had to do something, get somewhere. With each step he took, it became harder and harder to breathe. He had to get away, had to break free of the chains that held him here. The spirits of old that seemed to dwell in these lands would not allow him rest while he remained. But no matter how far he ran or how much he wanted to be free, he was met with only more fields of broken grasses, more of the barren wasteland, more of the danger that lurked around him.
He began to cough violently as he reached the familiar hill, but this time he failed to remain standing, feeling strangely weakened as he collapsed onto his knees. Determined, he crawled forward a little before more fits of coughing took over him. A shadow passed above, blanketing out even the light in the sky, and the earth began to tremble. The wind howled as it gained in strength and a rumble became so loud it deafened him. He fought hard to look up, to hold back the coughing and see what was around him.
A chance at survival.
The young boy with black hair had returned and was standing several yards ahead with his back turned. Jaden had to get to the boy, to tell him to stop what he was doing, to find peace somehow and allow all else to exist. He couldn’t destroy all that there was for his own hate.
Jaden tried to crawl forward, managing a couple of feet before needing to rest. The winds had changed direction, now blowing against him. He had to use all of his strength just to move an inch. But no matter how hard he tried, they would not allow him to move any further forward, the elements boasting far greater power than he did.
Suddenly his heart felt as if it had been gripped in a vice. His chest seemed to be collapsing from the pressure. He tried to cry out, to scream in agony, but no sound came. The invisible bonds that had turned the blood in his veins to ice had paralysed him again, melting seconds later and allowing him to stand. A powerful blast of wind knocked him high into the air. He rolled down the hill, sustaining little injury as the grasses padded his fall. Kneeling as he held his chest with his left arm, he looked back up the hill. He could only just make out the figure of the boy ahead.