by Noah Michael
“It is time for them to meet their doom!” The crowd cheered with approval. The Chief jumped down from his platform, flipping midair, and landed on his feet in front of Heathe. “We shall begin with the one responsible for creating these traitors! Look at me, coward!”
Heathe struggled to open his eyes. When he did, his gaze moved to his children and quickly away again. He had failed them. He turned to the Chief.
“I once gave you command of my mighty warriors and the chance for glory. When my warriors could not repay me with victory, they gave me the next best thing-honor. They died for all of us. You had the audacity to return, to bring dishonor to the tribe and to all those who’d fallen. You’ve raised your children in your ways, robbing one of our greatest warriors of a hero’s death. For that, you must suffer eternally.” Two servants lifted Heathe to his feet, turning him to face the mirror. They held him in place.
“Any last words from the coward?”
Yuran’s father turned his head to the right, taking one last glance at his son. With his last bit of strength, tears streaming down his cheeks, he whispered, “Remember... your... promise.”
The Chief lifted his leg and kicked Yuran’s father. The broken man flew at the mirror, crashing straight through it. He did not come out the other side.
“Father!” Yuran screamed. Mara shrieked in anguish.
The Chief grabbed Mara with his own hands. The crowd roared with approval. Despite the heavy chains, her feet dangled above the ground. “Yuran!” she cried out. The Chief launched her forward, sending her after her father. Then the Chief turned to Yuran, drawing his long, black sword. “The boy shall die at the sword of the Chief himself!”
Yuran’s legs felt broken. His arms felt broken. His heart was broken. But his spirit burned strong. He’d made a promise to his father. A vow. It came to his heart, mending together the broken pieces. It flowed to his arms, patching the wounds. It moved on to his legs, giving them strength to stand. Yuran stood up.
“I shall die by no sword!” The crowd grew silent, surprised.
“You shall die when I say you will die!”
“I, Yuran, from the tribe of Shadows, challenge the Chief to a duel. Execute me now and it is you who is the coward.”
“You are not worthy of a duel. It is like a mouse battling a lion!” But the roar of the crowd made it clear: no simple execution would satisfy their bloodlust now. They wanted battle.
Suddenly, someone from the crowd threw a sword down into the arena. Yuran looked up towards the man, dressed in a long, hooded cloak. To his surprise, it was Grith. He sent Yuran a slight nod and wink.
“Pick it up,” the Chief growled, motioning towards the blade.
The crowd went wild with excitement. The Chief stood solemnly in his royal armor, while Yuran stayed bare of even a shirt. Their eyes locked in a fierce glare, and the Chief drew his sword. “It is time for the son of the coward to die at the hands of the Chief!”
Traditionally, the challenger moved first. Yuran could hear only his heart, which beat for his sister and father, drowning out the sounds of the crowd. His heart beat for love.
His heart beat for vengeance.
Metal clashed as Yuran struck at great speed. The Chief parried, but only just in time, Yuran’s strength clearly surprising him. He spun with great might, thrusting Yuran’s arms to the side and striking at Yuran’s foot. Yuran fell to the floor but did not let go of his sword. He jumped back to his feet.
Yuran moved cautiously forward and the Chief lunged. This time Yuran was ready. Using the force from the Chief’s thrust, he flipped over the locked swords and struck the Chief in the left hip. When the Chief lunged back, Yuran jumped into the ground. Blood dripped slowly to the ground and the crowd gasped.
No one had ever drawn blood from the Chief.
The Chief roared and, after Yuran reemerged from the ground ten feet away, he charged rampantly. He struck blow after blow with incredible speed and power. Yuran parried each attack but struggled to keep up with the Chief’s stamina. His arm slipped, and the Chief grazed his stomach. If Yuran did not escape now, he would be finished. Their blades clashed, and the Chief roared as he pushed forth with all his might. Yuran once again took advantage of the force contained in the deadlock and used it to launch himself backwards.
He jumped into the ground. The Chief dove in after him.
The two shadows clashed. A violent whirlwind of dust formed as they battled in the second dimension. Yuran jumped out from the floor and into the air. The Chief jumped up and out as well, swinging his sword. Yuran parried, the Chief dove into the ground, reappearing on Yuran’s left, and slashed Yuran in the side. Yuran was thrown back from the impact. As he struggled back to his feet, the Chief walked towards him, limping.
“You think you can beat the Chief with no training, coward’s boy!? I have already given you more of my time and honor than you deserve.”
Crying with rage, Yuran swung his sword with the only strength he had left. The Chief dodged the blade and kicked Yuran’s stomach wound. Yuran dropped his sword and the Chief hurled him violently into the arena wall. Cheers filled the arena as the Chief approached to deliver Yuran to his death. Yuran’s head rang with searing pain. He couldn’t see. There was nothing left inside of him.
Mara...Her face, beautiful, happy, and caring, filled his mind. My father needs me, my sister needs me. That’s why I continue to fight. I am not a warrior. I am not a hero.
I am a brother. I am a son.
Yuran’s hands shot out, grabbing the Chief’s blade just inches from his chest. “This is for Mara.”
Yuran thrust the sword upwards with immense strength, knocking the Chief off balance. Before he could recover, Yuran spun with super-human speed, smashing his foot into the Chief’s stomach, launching him backwards. He soared through the air after the Chief, sword in hand. The earth trembled as they struck the ground in a storm of dust.
The crowd was silent. Yuran stood over the Chief’s body, the Chief’s own blade through his heart. He bowed his head in respect and went stiff.
And just like that, with one stroke, he had turned from slave to king.
Yuran’s heart filled with hope. The crowd began to chant. He looked around for Grith, but he was nowhere to be seen.
“Long live the Chief! Long live the Chief!” Yuran looked at the crowd in disbelief. They were cheering for him. They were his people.
He was their chief.
“Chief,” came a knock at the door, bringing him back to the present. “The mission was a success. The girl is on route.” Yuran opened his eyes, returning to the present. There was much to do, and he had to focus. According to legend, the only way to return from the mirror alive was to enter with a Surger, but they had all been killed off by the Following. At least that was what he had thought, until he had met Roko.
“When she arrives, bring her immediately to my quarters.”
“As you wish, Chief.”
Chapter Ten
Floor 176
Chicago
July 15
5:00 p.m.
Alia opened her eyes to find herself on a small, empty playground. Woodchips crunched beneath her feet as she stepped. The air was haunted by the eerie creaking of swings swaying in the breeze.
Alia didn’t like playgrounds.
Suddenly, a young girl appeared. She was attempting the monkey bars, her long, blonde hair swinging behind her. Alia took a deep breath to stave off an ominous feeling, when to her surprise, the girl fell off.
Alia watched with concern, prepared to run to the girl’s aid. But the girl stood up and brushed herself off. Approaching the bars again, the girl turned to reveal her face was stained with blood. She let out an ear-splitting shriek, forcing Alia to press her hands against the sides of her head.
“Stop!” The girl’s bloodied face morphed into that of Bella.
“Stop, I said! You are not Bella!” Alia shouted.
“Alia! Alia, help! I’m hurt!”
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nbsp; The memories were too powerful. Her head was spinning out of control.
“Alia, it hurts! Help me, Alia!” The girl continued to shriek, blood dripping from her tear ducts.
If I want to master the emotions of others, I must first master my own.
The girl stopped screaming and whimpered. “Alia, I need a hug. Come closer.”
“Don’t worry Bella, I’m here for you. It will be okay,” Alia answered. The girl limped forward a step, blood oozing from her eyes.
As Alia approached for an embrace, the girl extended a red-stained arm, hiding the other behind her back. “It’s going to be okay,” Alia said.
The girl’s face split into a sinister smile. She slid her hand out from behind her back, but Alia grabbed her arm, exposing a jagged, blood-stained dagger. The girl’s menacing grin melted to helplessness.
“It’s me, Bella. Please Alia, I am hurt. I would never hurt you,” the girl pleaded innocently.
Tears in her eyes, Alia peeled the knife from the girl’s grasp and stabbed her in the chest. The playground was replaced by a forest, the girl by a grown man. The only thing which remained was the dagger in his heart.
Alia moved through the grass, surveying the area around her and taking refuge behind a tree. She looked to her side, straight into the face of the bloody girl.
“Help me...”
Another Reader. Seems like he found me first. She grabbed the girl by the neck and pulled. The girl vanished, replaced by a long strand of grass.
Dammit, he’s already gotten to me. It’ll be impossible now to know what is real and what is fake, and I first need to see him to find his weaknesses. She looked around for any sign of the man.
To manipulate me, he must be talking to my subconscious, which means he’s close. She spun around and punched the tree as hard as she could. She shrieked in pain. It was a real tree.
Yet the tree shook. Two huge, menacing eyes and a mouth formed upon its trunk, and it let out a powerful roar. It swung its branches at Alia. She dove to the ground, dodging the blows. She concentrated with all her might on her surroundings and could just make out a voice. “The ground, it is hot. How can you stand in place? You can’t. You must run, run before your feet melt. There is a fire in the forest. All those who wish to live must run.”
She felt the ground grow hot, but now it was Alia’s turn to attack. “Run from what? A fire?” she said hypnotically. To her eyes, everything went back to normal. A man stood behind a large, nearby bush, staring at the tree with an expression of horror on his face.
“There’s a fire! There’s a fire!” he cried.
“It grows,” she said. The man took a few steps back and then broke out into a full-out run.
“It spreads. It encircles you.”
“I’m surrounded! Help, I’m surrounded!” The man stopped in his tracks, looking around.
“It consumes,” she said. The man fell to the ground, screaming in pain.
“Save...me...” The man choked the words out as Alia approached him. She bent down and took a gun from the man’s belt, pointing it at his head. “Save...me...”
Alia’s hand shook. She pulled the trigger.
She opened her eyes and was back in the machine, covered in sweat. A minute passed, and she grew impatient waiting for the lid of the machine to open. She was about to bang on the lid, when she heard voices.
“I’m starting to doubt if you’re even trying to bring Galaxius back at all!”
“James, I already told you...”
“I don’t want to hear it anymore! Why train her if we don’t even know if she could use the eye? I’m bringing Alia to the safe as soon as she is finished with this test and she will try on the eye!”
“Don’t forget who’s in charge here, James!” Roko snarled. “You are not my equal! We will do what I say we will do!”
Their relationship is deteriorating. When they diverge, Roko will have the upper hand, but James will use the element of surprise to strike first. The key to Roko’s trust will be stopping James.
Finally, the lid opened. Alia took off her glasses. Roko stood over her, offering her a hand. “You did very well for your first round of combat against a fellow Reader. You have good control over your emotions, which is crucial. Emotion is a Reader’s greatest weakness.”
“I’m working my hardest, as I’m sure you are too?”
Roko forced out a smile, scratching his white-haired head. “Your sister’s case is a complicated one, but it is only a matter of time until I’ll be able to transport her to the tower.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure. On a different note, I would like to invite you to a dinner tonight in your honor. I will be inviting many Enlai so that you can get to know them. It is time you see how big your family truly is.”
Great…I hate parties.
“That’s really sweet, but I was hoping to get some extra training in.”
“I’m afraid I must insist. You deserve it. I will personally escort you from your quarters at eight-o-clock tonight.” With that, Roko left. Alia rolled her eyes and walked over to a nearby sink, washing her face. She had been training for just under two weeks, but it felt much longer. In addition to the simulations, she had been given many books on the different tribes and their abilities to read and memorize. She noted, with annoyance, she was never given a book on the history of her race. Roko didn’t want her to figure out his lies.
Despite her dislike of Roko, Alia couldn’t help but feel a bit grateful for his many gifts. He’d given her clothes, food, a beautiful bedroom, and weeks-worth of experience in only a few days. His training was helping her develop greater control of her abilities, and, more importantly, of her emotions. Her sister was her greatest weakness.
But she is also my greatest strength.
Alia walked out of the room and strode out into the hallway, heading toward the elevator. She glanced at all the doors in the hallway. There were so many, and each of them held the tantalizing promise of secrets and keys to her past and mind. More than all the doors, however, one mystery especially piqued her interest. Floor 176.
“Alia to floor 112,” She told the elevator. She proceeded to her quarters on 112 where the walls were chocolate brown and the floor was covered by soft carpeting. It felt like a hotel. There were about 100 rooms on the floor and two lamps hung at either side of each doorpost. Alia had already met one of her neighbors, an Enlai by the name of Rotom from the Shifter tribe. It was a bit uncomfortable having a neighbor who could walk through walls.
Alia scanned her fingerprint at the door. The light on the handle turned green and the door slid open automatically. After she walked in, it closed itself behind her. Alia loved her room. Her bed was the most comfortable bed she’d ever slept on. The mattress scanned her body and electronically shifted its shape and cushion to fit her figure. The beautiful lighting and the calming colors of the room made her instantly feel at home.
After a shower, she made for the wardrobe. Roko had given her a wardrobe full of clothes. She’d never been faced with the dilemma of which top to wear. Now, she described to her wardrobe what fashion, function, and color she desired, and the wardrobe spit it out like a vending machine.
“Something for a fancy dinner party,” she requested. “A dress, I guess.”
The machine processed her request, presenting her a choice of ten different dresses. Alia chose a lavishly tailored, flexible, fabric sheathe dress. Putting on her hair and makeup, she looked at her reflection in the mirror and immediately missed her jean pants. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d looked so nice, or even worn a dress, and it made her feel uncomfortable. She slid a hand up her long, smooth arm, feeling the muscles which had begun to show.
What am I becoming?
Just as she slipped on her shoes, she heard a knock on her door. Roko stood in the doorway in a tailored grey suit with a white shirt and black tie. “You look beautiful.” he beamed. They walked into the elevator and rode it to 101.
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nbsp; There were only a few doors on this lavish floor, and each one led to a different ballroom. The room they entered was the size of an opera house. The ceiling was a great golden dome, sparkling in the light of a hundred diamond chandeliers. The walls were gold and featured depictions of different Enlai legends. A grandiose stage showcased golden robots playing beautiful music on a variety of instruments. Red draperies hung from the room’s golden arches, four on each side. There were ten rows of tables set with white and gold tablecloths on both sides of the room, divided in the middle by a red carpet. The carpet led to a master platform at the front of the room, upon which perched the most beautiful table of all.
The room was stuffed with people, every table was full. The main table was the only one with empty seats, a space at the head and one immediately next to it, clearly meant for Roko and Alia. The rest of the table was already full of people, most of whom Alia didn’t recognize. James was seated next to her. He was engrossed in conversation with the man seated to his right, who drew Alia’s attention. He was dressed in a golden suit, complementing his long, straight, blond hair and penetrating, yellow eyes. His voice was deep with a conspiring tone. As he conversed, his eyes never left those of James, until he glanced up at her.
“These are some of the more respected members of our family,” Roko told Alia. As they passed the table, the guests rose in respect, all except James. Roko signaled his guests to sit, then walked up to a podium situated beside his seat. He spoke into the microphone and the crowd silenced.
“My esteemed brothers and sisters. I know you have all been working hard towards the vision we share. A world free from the evils of human anarchy. For years, we have been working together as a team to bring back our heroes; the Fury, and, of course, the valiant Vespirus. We have just grown closer to achieving it. After years of searching, we have found a very powerful Reader, one willing to join us. It is my honor to introduce you to our new sister, Alia.”
The crowd applauded as he gestured her to come closer. When she stood beside him, Roko took her hand in his and raised it high for all to see. The applause grew even louder.
